#but even in its best moments it never managed to capture me completely

[mikimeiko]

The Last of Us | Season 1 (2023), Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann

[ririblogsss]

what if Danny give no fu-ks

Ok hear me out, Dannys obsession has never truest been confirmed by the show itself (that I remember) I've seen a lot of people say his obsession comes from wanting to help / protect people. But what if he feels as though that he is now doing more damage than good, after all there are a lot of people getting hurt as colateral damage from the chases he has to go on. Or simply when he has to run away from getting captured.

What if one night he was up late and saw a post about a tragedy that happened because he slipped up (it wasn't even his fault, but he still blames himself for everything). And then he starts looking at all the bad comments against him ignoring all the good ones saying how much Danny Phantom has helped Amity. Because Danny is still human and confirmation bias is real. Imagine how he felt the moment he realized that he was causing people to get hurt instead of keeping them save.

Image the desperation clawing at him with the realization that he has never been able to fully manage his obsession. it makes him sad, desperate, angry.

His entire self is filled with too many emotions at the sametime he isn't even able to identify them and catalogue them properly like Jazz taught him.

and then everything stops and he feels nothing.

Completely and utterly numb.

Like his whole reason to keep going suddenly disappears.

And it has.

He gave up on his obsession and now he has to make / get a new one.

But it's not that easy.

This drastic change could've ended any ghost as they run on (live off) emotions.

Luckily because he's a Halfa, so that has given him the upper hand. Unfortunately it makes it so that he is completely devoid of any emotion.

Months go by and people immediately notice changes, the more drastic one is that Phantom went missing, and eventually a lot of ghost that where coming in looking for him stop. Amity Park is no longer populated by ghosts, and slowly the GIW started to retreat from Amity going to another place following a lead that says there are more ghost activities up north.

But those changes aren't the only ones noticeable. Dannys classmates and teachers can vouch that Danny has changed. Most say he was always quite , and others say he looked down right depressed. Danny didn't do much in classes not that he paid attention before. Its just this time it seems that its not out of being sleepy or anxious about another ghost attacking the school instead Danny looks like he coundn't give less of a fu-k about anything.

He never smiles anymore not even when his favorite subjects (mechanics and space) are brought up. Not even a quirk of a smile. The school decided to contact his parents about Dannys new behaviors. That includes skipping classes, not handing in work, not doing the assigned work in class ect....

And its not like his parents havent noticed, they've had more time in their hands since they aren't using hours of the day/night going out hunting anymore. and they have witnessed their son become a shell of himself. They don't know what to do, and they don't want to worry Jazz about it because she's at collage and needs to focus on her studies.

So when the school contact them and told them that the behavior is the same in school they decided major changes needed to happen. Starting with a change of environment.

Maddie and Jack decided that Amity park was too big of a city with too many people. They could nearly see the stars at night because of the light pollution, hence they decided to move next door to Alicia, Maddie sister, home in SmallVille.

They decided it was the best choice, Danny would be surrounded by nature and he could do online classes that would go the pace he wanted. The move was immediate, the day off they packed everything sold the house and moved.

They only stopped to say goodbye to Danny's friends. A small bye and hug later they were on a 7 hour road trip to their new home.

When they got there the old resident handed them the keys of the home and told them to ignore the their neighbors 'The Kents' as they often made a lot of noice and had group gatherings every month.

The one thing Jack and Maddie forgot to double check was if the house was an actual house or a farm house. Sounds similar, but completely different as they now had 2 cows, 16 chickens, 1 rooster, and 3 pigs to take care off.

Danny was put on duty of taking care of the animals, such as feeding them on time and making sure they were healthy. Jack and Maddie made more of the heavy weight as to re building broken fences and fixing the questionable roof.

(The first thing Danny did when meeting all the animals was name them. After all this was about all the interaction he was going to do.)

Danny didn't have time to think about his lost obsession or his lack of emotions as he was now too busy making sure each animal was taken care off.

Marcy and linda (the cows) were danny's favorite they were very gentle and he felt that they could understand him when he spoke to them the stories of his vigilante past.

On the other hand The Chickens were a nightmare, Glinda was cool as she never chased him down. But Matilda and Bethany were a nightmarish duo spiteful too when he was seconds late to the finding time. Mark the rooster was chill he mainly acted as of he was part of the group that needed protection.

Marice, Betty, and Miss Piggy were the chillest of the bunch never gave Danny any trouble when feeding them and always made a point that they loved their new mudbath installation that Danny made for them on his first 2 days on the farm.

A month after arriving at the farm house Danny noticed that mark was missing. Danny looked everywhere around the property and saw him from afar, at the road. So Danny did the sensible thing anyone would do when spotting a run away pet, and that is call their name at the top of your lungs whilst running after them.

naturally Mark the escape artist run the opposite direction. By the time Danny caught up to him Danny didn't recognize the house he was infant off. So with Mark comfortably in his arms He swears he can see a smug look on marks face. Danny turned away from the house to start his walk back to the farm, but he was met with a kid his age looking at him with distrust.

"Ehhh look kid Im sorry to have crossed the properties border but Mark here" Danny made a point to acentuate Mark in his arms "Runaway from me this morning and I've been trying to catch him ever since, anyways I need to go feed the girls"

The kid starred at him for a second "OMG your from the new family in Mr.duncans farm right? in Aver ST.?" and wow the kid was like a ray of sunshine.

"Yea-" Danny could even finish his sentence before the kid cut him off by starting to talk a mile a minute about how he was so exited to meet people his age that lived near by and how farm chores were harder that normal house chores.

"Jon, give him time to respond. Im Damian this is Jon" Danny jumped he hadn't noticed the second kid at all

"Oh yeah... sorry about that what's your name?" The kid (Jon) slightly less enthusiasm, a bit embarrassed if his tone of voice was anything to get by.

"Danny, Im 15" he responded before he started walking away after all he did need to get in time to feed the chickens unless he wants to suffer their furry. Danny shuddered at the memory that popped up in his head.

"Wait!!! I just thought we could be friends cause we live close by u know" Jon said catching up with Dannys steps. Damian was following from behind.

"Sure kid I don't care" Dannys voice was monotone much like it had been for months.

"Hey were not kids for your information, Im 14 and Damians 16 soon to be 17, so if anything you night be the actual kid!" Danny chuckled slightly it was more similar to releasing air from his lips than a laugh.

Soon a quite and enjoyable science encompassed the group as they went to Dannys home.

"Hmm... you're hold on Mark is adequate and the your determination for getting home in time for feeding is acceptable" Damian spoke up after a while of the passive silence.

"yeah and what is It to you" Danny was slightly urked by Damians default setting speach. He told him as such.

Jon blanched before erupting into giggles that sent him to lay down on the grass uncontrollably laughing. Damians right eyebrow quirked up in what Danny assumed was amusement.

Thus a new friendship grew that day.

They often gathered at Dannys or Jons yard to have picnic in the weekends (as Damian and Jon has school in Metropolis on week days) and hangout with the animals. Danny found out that Damian was a vegetarian and that he had various animals at home. One time he brought his Great Dane Titus, who bodied Danny on sight to give him kisses.

Also Damian was Damian Wayne as in bruce Wayne, Batman sugar daddy. When he said that, Jons milk flew out of his nose and Damian choked on his cucumber wrap. Even Titus gave him a judgemental stare.

Slowly Danny started to smile more, laugh every so often. And things were feeling so much better after not being able to feel anything for a while.

Jazz, Aunt Alicia and especially Maddie and Jack felt so relived to see that Danny was slowly coming back to them.

Danny to this day backs the fact that Mark knew something and planned the whole thing.

[ponderingmoonlight]

I'd love Obanai + Sanemi saving reader from a demon (like in the first episode??) You are awesome, thanks!

This escalated so quick damn, but hey, there you have a full on fic hehe - hope you enjoy <3

Sanemi saving your ass even if you don't want to

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: You knew what you got yourself into when you let a demon capture you instead of your beloved friend. Little did you know that help already arrived, viewing you as nothing but a damsel in distress until suddenly, you turn into much more...

Warnings: (y/n) fell but I fell harder, just saw the movie and it's so AHHH, honestly Sameni's voice is so mezmerizing omg, however this includes violence and language, might incluce spoilers for the movie but if you haven't seen it already you don't know what's going on anyway lol, like all my demon slayer fanfics this includes ai pics of reader so if this doesn't sit right with you, I'd suggest to not read it

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED MORE SANEMI CONTENT

Your dirty cold feet pound against the muddy floor, haunted eyes darted towards nothing but sheer darkness. You still don’t know how you managed to keep the demon from kidnapping your best friend, how you’re still alive when at this very moment, this frightful creature his hunting you down like its prey.

So many innocent young women, one after another disappeared from your village nearby. Why did you never even think about the possibility that you or even worse, a person you love could be next?

Not until now. Not until you stared into the demon’s stone-cold red orbs when it began to run after you. Not until you were the one threatened to get eaten alive.

“Run! Run and don’t look back!”

“But (y/n), you’ll get killed-“

“I won’t. Leave it to me, tell everyone to lock their doors, just don’t come back!”, you screamed on top of your lungs.

“I’m getting impatient, stupid girl. You know you will get killed, right?”

Blood rushed through your ears, body threatened to fail you.

“If you want to kill me you have to get me first, stupid demon.”

How long have you been running for? Minutes, hours? You lost track of time completely with your body screaming, begging you to stop and take a break. The bitter taste of iron covers your whole mouth, blood sticks to your new Yukata like a second skin. Your mother will completely lose it when she sees the crimson discolouring on the white fabric.

“I’m having enough.”

If you ever see her again.

With a swift motion, the demon swings you over his shoulder, his claws digging into your flesh so roughly that you cry out. No, this can’t be the end. You can’t allow yourself to die like this: in the arms of a demon, without even fighting back. No one ever told you what to do, you were always able to stand up for yourself. Today will be no exception. Even if you get killed, you will fight back with everything you have.

“Shinazugawa…Something’s not right.”

Sanemi can’t help but look around, eyes meeting the countless demons around him. What the hell is this place?

“Yeah, I don’t like this, either. I’ve never seen demons swarming around like this.”

“Let me go!”, you yell, fist banging roughly against the creatures’ back while it drags you into what looks like a haunted mansion.

Your eyes widen when you feel multiple pairs of red orbs laying on your body.

“Demon slayers…”, you hear your kidnapper hiss through gritted teeth, turning his head over his shoulder.

Demon slayers? You’ve heard of them before, how they behead every demon coming their way, how desperately they fight for humanity. But…where were these demon slayers when all the girls from your village got kidnapped? Where are they when you need them the most? How absoluteley useless.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Is it the anger, the grief? With a rapid motion, you dig your nails into the eyes of the demon until he lets you fall to the ground abruptly, groaning out in visible pain.

Everything hurts, a trail of blood follows you as you drag your body against a rotten wall. You feel your body giving in, all the stress, agony and exhaustion rushing over you like a wave. But no, you can’t give up right now. Not when there’s still a slight chance for you to survive.

“You little bitch. Eat her, I will leave and get her little friend.”

Suddenly, the urge to puke becomes almost unbearable. Countless demons come near you, their teeth exposed to the harsh moonlight. No, this is not how you want to end. You can’t die getting eaten alive by these creatures. But what else are you supposed to do? There is no way out of this living hell.

Except for the destroyed window a few steps away. This is your only chance. You drag yourself up, sprint over the rotten wood underneath your naked feet and jump.

Floors into the depths.

Away from the demons, into another certain death.

“Where is the girl?”, Sanemi questions harshly, sword oh so ready to behead that bastard of a demon in front of him while heading down.

Screw this strange place and the countless demons around him, he needs to find you, needs to carry you into safety.

“The girl? She jumped out of a window in order to safe herself. She’s probably dead by now.”

He lets out the breath he didn’t knew he was holding, blank eyes staring at the stone ground his blade has crashed instead of the demon. What was this place?

No, he can’t think about this right now. As fast as his body carries him, he gets out of that cursed mansion, eyes instantly finding your falling body.

Only metres away from crushing into the ground.

Oh, how much you wished it wouldn’t end like this. But maybe this was everything you could do, dying like this is still better than getting eaten up by a demon. Where are those demon slayers? You close your tired lids, enjoy the weightlessness for a brief second. It doesn’t matter now. Hopefully, the demon is long dead before you. At least you're dragging his ass with you…

“Hey, you aren’t dead, are ya?”

That voice…A male voice, without any doubt. So harsh and tempting at the same time that you can’t help but open your eyes in confusion.

Only to be met by purple ones. Male ones, to be exact. Are those...his arms wrapped around your trembling body?

“Let me go!”, you shriek.

It seems like all power that left your body appeared again while you miserably try to fight yourself out of his arms. Who is this man? Another demon, maybe?

“I won’t let you eat me!”

“Eating you? Are you dumb, woman? I’m a demon slayer”, the man in front of you barks, his hands roughly holding onto your arms in order to stop you from hitting him again.

“A demon slayer?” you repeat.

“Yeah, the wind hashira to be exact.”

Your gaze falls from his face to his exposed chest, his toned abs. He breathes heave while still holding onto your arms. Suddenly you feel so…hot.

“You are a demon slayer.”

With a swift motion, you free one of your hands and slap him so hard that he sees stars.

“It sure took you some time to get here! What about all the other women who died here, the countless young girls that were killed by demons you did nothing about? Why did you save me!?”

“I’m wondering that too”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

Did you actually go inane? The way you look at him with your eyes completely furious, face and yukata smeared in your own blood. You can’t be serious about that, right?

“You should be thankful”, he finally hisses.

“Thankful!? YOU should be sorry!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for saving you…you…you ungrateful thing!”

“I could have saved myself”, you argue.

“Oh, is that so?”

No, absolutely not. You would have died if it wasn’t for the wind hashira.

“Everything was under control”, you snap at him.

Nothing was under control. This was your last way out of your misery.

“Is it so hard to just be thankful?”, he argues.

“Who’s your new friend, Shinazugawa?”

“We aren’t friends”, both of you reply at once.

Your heavy breath hangs in the air, hands still clenched into fists. Deep down you know how wrong it is to snap at him, that the demon slayer corps aren’t responsible for the countless lives the demons took in this area. But still…Why does it have to be you they saved? Why not the girl next door who would have married the next day or the girl that was supposed to leave only days after she got killed? It’s not fair, it’s not enough, it’s-

You take a heavy step back when your vision starts to get foggy.

“I won’t catch that brat if she faints now”, the wind hashira grumbles.

“We both know you will.”

The last thing you see are his purple eyes before you fall straight into deep darkness.

-a few days later-

“She’s awake now, Shinazugawa. And she asked for you.”

He hates the way his heart skips a beat by hearing those innocent words from Shinobu. You didn’t leave his head. Despite the state of Oyakata-sama, despite the hashira training, despite the stinging fact that the king of demons himself will come for them, you were always on his mind. You, with your strong but feminine eyes. You, who jumped out of a window into certain death only to keep your body away from the mouths of these demons. You, who straight up slapped him. Was it your attitude that caught him off guard? He never experienced a woman saved by him being this ungrateful. Aren’t you aware of the fact that you would have died that night if it wasn’t for him?

“What do you want, brat?”

His words come out harsher than anticipated while your sight simply takes his breath away. Since he can remember, Sanemi was never interested in any women romantically. No, love is nothing but weakness, women mean nothing but trouble. But even though you glare at him with venomous eyes the second he enters the room, he can’t help but feel drawn towards you.  

“You’re a hashira, right?”

Your words sound just as harsh as his, your gaze meeting his with so much strength that it is him who starts to feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I already told you that-“

“Train me”, you interrupt him.

“I want to become a demon slayer and kick your ass.”

“You, kicking my ass?”

You grab the fabric of his uniform so roughly that he isn’t able to react, suddenly so close to you that he can feel the heat radiating from your body.

“Train me.”

“Fine brat. I’ll train you. But don’t think I’ll go easy on your ass.”

-bonus-

“Try to keep up, (y/n).”

His katana clashes into yours over and over, makes it hard to stand your ground. But still you fight back, your hands holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. You just have to win. There is absolutely no way you’ll lose against your master again.

Especially since he’s your lover.

“Are you tired yet?”, he teases you with a smirk.

“Absolutely not”, you press out while dodging another hit just in time.

This won’t help. If you continue to fight like this, he’ll sweep you off your feet like all these countless times before. But what are you supposed to do? It almost seems as if Sanemi has no weakness.

Except you.

“But you’ll be when I’m done”, you purr.

That sudden change of mood catches him completely off guard, forces him to hesitate for the split of a second.

Enough for you to sweep him off his feet, your body resting on top of his while your blade hangs into his face.

“I won”, you announce triumphally.

“You cheated”, he protests underneath you.

“Demons play dirty as well. You need to be prepared for everything-“

All it takes his one swift motion for him to position himself on top of you, body forcing you onto the ground before you’re able to catch a breath.

“Imma show you how dirty playing really works, then.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @ryva @baku2345 @komelrebi-san

[callmeagardengnome]

˚ʚ paint my world ɞ˚ | SONG MINGI

pairings ᯓ idol!mingi x painter! fem!reader

genre ᯓ soulmate au, one-shot

synopsis ᯓ you’ve been seeing in black and white for all your life - until a popular idol comes in and changes things

w.c ᯓ 2.7k

author’s note: make sure to like and repost!!

not proofread!

masterlist

blue. you’ve never seen blue before.

you stood in front of the clothing rack in shock, trying to process what you were looking at.

from the moment you were born, you were cursed by your soulmark. colour was something that was foreign to you, something that didn’t seem real. you never understood why your friends would fight over certain crayons or when people looked up to the sky, admiring its beauty - it all looked the same to you.

as depressing as it sounds, seeing in black and white wasn’t too bad. you weren’t distracted by the things around you and you could actually focus in school for the most part.

sure, you had a few awkward moments. like when you wore a completely mismatched outfit - highlighter yellow shirt paired with murky orange pants and pastel pink shoes. if anything, it taught you a learning lesson to always ask your parents for fashion advice.

ironically, you became a painter after you graduated. you were always a creative kid and being colourblind wasn’t going to hold you back from releasing your works into the universe.

you slowly rose to fame, with your artworks capturing the eyes of millions around the world. you even managed to earn a lot of money from it, leading you to buy more supplies for your job.

you stood up from your chair, cracking your back. you’ve been working on this certain art piece for at least 7 hours and you decided to finally take a break. it’s been a while since you’ve painted - you took a short holiday to one of your favourite countries which led you to forget the long hours of sitting down.

you reached for your phone, dialling your best friend’s number.

“hello?” your best friend’s voice echoed in the room.

“i’m boredd,” you groaned out, flopping onto your bed. “can we do something?”

she chuckled. “i’m guessing you’re done painting?”

“i’m taking a break,” you said, shifting, making yourself more comfortable.

“if you want, i can pick you up and we can go shopping?” your best friend suggested, her voice sounding more excited.

“you know me so well,” you replied, hanging up almost immediately. you ran to your closet and picked out a simple outfit, one that you knew matched each other.

you scrolled through your phone, waiting for your best friend to text you. when she finally came to pick you up, the both of you went to your favourite shopping centre, looking at the different stores.

that was what led you to.. blue? pink? yellow?

in all honesty, you had no idea of what colour you were looking at. when your best friend decided to stop at a random clothing store, you thought that it wouldn’t hurt to look around a little bit. while she was in the women’s section, you went over to the men’s section - you never know if they have better clothes.

you browsed through the selection of clothes mindlessly until a shirt caught your eye. “ayo what-“

you went closer to the shirt, one that stood out in a vibrant colour against the monochrome background. you touched the sleeves, the material. it was alien to you. for all of your life, everything was in greyscale. you’ve never seen anything as bright, or beautiful as this shirt that was in front you. you took a moment to inspect the shirt, wanting to imprint the colour into your mind. after all, you never know the next time you would see actual colour.

“‘____’?”

you turned to look at your best friend, who stood a few steps away from you, looking confused.

“…are you okay?” she asked cautiously, not knowing why you looked so stunned.

“dude-“ you coughed out, glancing between the shirt and your best friend. “i can see colour.”

her jaw dropped. “wait- really? can you see the colour of my shoes?” she pointed at her shoes eagerly, nearly dropping the pile of clothes she was carrying.

“well- no..” you replied, disappointed. “but i can see the colour of this shirt..?”

“hm..” your best friend hummed, moving closer to you. she awkwardly reached into her pocket, before starting to google about your soulmark.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

when mingi found out that ATEEZ was going on tour, he wasn’t exactly thrilled. of course, he was happy that he got to meet the international ATINY, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that he couldn’t properly enjoy the trip.

to him, he didn’t really see the fun in leaving the country, or even going outside. everything looked the same to him. no matter what, he couldn’t see the true beauty of the things around him - so what was the point of feeling excited to go overseas?

mingi flinched when the lights shined intensely in the plane. he slept throughout the entire plane ride, not even bothering to look outside the windows. he absentmindedly followed his group, trailing behind everyone as they got off the plane.

“what..?” his thoughts echoed in his head as he looked around at the airport.

it was.. bright. unusually bright.

it was almost comical how bright the airport was - it even hurt his eyes. he had to blink a couple of times to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating.

he stopped following the group, taking in his surroundings. was this what normal people saw?

everything was so.. vibrant and bold. he couldn’t even comprehend that people could see this on the daily and not talk about it more. sure, he bumped into a few people by stopping suddenly, but that didn’t matter - in fact, nothing else mattered. mingi could see colour, and he wasn’t planning to stop anytime soon.

“dude are you okay?” yunho snapped his fingers in front of mingi, finally catching his attention.

mingi furrowed his eyebrows, hitting yunho’s hand away from his face. yunho looked at mingi, concerned. “we’ve been calling you for the past five minutes, why are you standing in the middle of nowhere?”

mingi turned away from yunho, shifting his eyes around the airport. “i can see colour.”

a collective ‘WHAT’ was heard from the group as they gathered around mingi, attacking him with questions.

“i don’t know, maybe this airport is just.. different?” mingi said, unsure.

“does that mean your soulmate is here?” wooyoung asked, looking at his members curiously.

“maybe,” seonghwa shrugged, typing in his phone. “i just googled it, apparently you can see colour of the objects your soulmate touches or the places they’ve been in often.”

yunho whistled. “that means your soulmate in the same city as us,” he said, nudging mingi.

mingi smiled, running his fingers through his hair. “how long are we staying here again?”

“..four days?”

“i only have four days to find my soulmate?” mingi exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. “how am i supposed to do that?”

“i mean.. we have one rest day..?”

mingi groaned, his face in his hands. he was so caught up with the thought of finding his soulmate that tour completely left his mind. he had spent all of his life in black and white and he didn’t want to return back to that.

mingi asked his members to teach him the different colours. he ended up learning that colour can have different hues, brightness and he didn’t want to stop being surrounded by these colours.

unfortunately, they had to leave the airport due to their packed schedule. everything became ten times more boring. the cars passing by, the trees, the pavement, nothing interested him anymore.

his member’s obviously noticed his change in mood and did a small detour to a nearby shopping centre. they wandered around, going to different stores, looking at the different items the city had to offer.

mingi cheered up a bit when he entered a clothing store that was his style. he made a beeline to the men’s section and tried on a shirt that he liked. unluckily, his manager had to drag him to the car, preventing him from buying the shirt.

luckily for you though, fate brought you to the shirt. you unhooked it from the rack, bringing it closer to your face.

“what colour is this?” you asked your best friend.

“it’s blue,” she answered with a wide grin on her face, barely containing her excitement.

you nodded, unable to take your eyes off of the shirt. “where is blue found?”

“the sky,” she said eagerly. “the ocean too, it’s really beautiful.”

she added, “blue is normally used for sadness though. a lot of films portray it that way.”

you didn’t know that a beautiful colour like blue, could be associated with such a depressing emotion. it didn’t make sense to you.

however, you put off your feelings of confusion. now wasn’t the time to question these sorts of things. now was the time to find your soulmate.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

it was day 3 of ATEEZ being in your city. with each day passing by, mingi felt more and more anxious. he hated the fact that he didn’t have time to find you and how he had to spend most of his time performing.

obviously, he was extremely grateful that he got to meet his fans, but there was a part of him that always felt irritated.

not only that, on the day that he was planning on resting, he got interrupted.

“shouldn’t you ask someone else?” mingi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“no one here likes art,” hongjoong groaned, sitting next to mingi. “i get that you’re colourblind but pleasee accompany me.”

hongjoong was begging mingi to follow him to an art museum. there was art exhibition going on that was intriguing to hongjoong - but unfortunately, was not interesting to his members. this led to hongjoong asking his colourblind member as a last resort to follow him to the museum.

“maybe you can find your soulmate there,” hongjoong mentioned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“i doubt it,” mingi scoffed. “but you know what? i’ll follow you.. cuz i’m a good friend.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes before running off to get ready for the art exhibition.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

you looked at yourself in the mirror, debating what outfit to wear. should you go casual? formal? after a year of working on it, the launch of your art exhibition was finally here. it was an important milestone in your life and you did not want to mess it up.

you sighed, walking over to your closet. your eyes immediately landed on the vibrant blue shirt hanging on the side of your dull wardrobe. was this the right choice? it was a nice shirt, and it did feel nice to know what colour you were wearing for once.

after considering it, you grabbed the shirt from the rack and hurriedly put it on. you needed to make it to the museum quick - after all, you didn’t want to be late to such an important event.

you booked a taxi to the museum, going over to where your artworks were stationed. you looked at your art pieces in pride, unable to stop yourself from smiling wildly at them.

mingi and hongjoong reached the museum slightly later than they wanted to. they had to squeeze through the swarm of art enthusiasts crowding at the front of the exhibition.

when the two men finally reached the start of the exhibition, they’re eyes widened in shock. while hongjoong was impressed by your artistic talents, mingi’s jaw was on the ground for a different reason.

it was fully coloured.

he’s never seen a coloured picture before, let alone a painting. when he glanced over at the other art pieces, he noticed that they were too, coloured vividly.

“why- why is this coloured?” mingi muttered to himself, moving closer to the painting.

“you can see this?” hongjoong asked in surprise.

mingi nodded, walking over to another painting. “yeah.. all of the paintings actually.”

the two of them stood in silence, both thinking about what this could mean.

“dude- is the artist your soulmate?” hongjoong exclaimed, staring at mingi with wide eyes. “you can see colour of the objects your soulmate touch right?”

“uhuh..”

“you need to find her,” hongjoong said, squeezing mingi’s arm. “it’s the first day of the exhibition, she’s 100% here.”

mingi wasn’t prepared at all to meet you. the idea of even being in the same area as you terrified him. he was thinking about finding you on their last day in the city, he hadn’t even finished planning out what he wanted to say to you.

unfortunately, hongjoong pushed mingi away, forcing him to look for you.

mingi had zero clue of what you looked like - he had no idea of who he was looking for. after a while, he noticed that one of his shoe laces were untied and kneeled down to tie them. that was when he noticed something strange.

he saw blue-coloured footsteps littered all over the ground. he quickly stood up, looking around the room like a madman. at first, he was was searching for you without any real evidence of you being at the museum, but now, everything changed.

you were actually there, and he was going to do his best to find you.

as creepy as it sounds, mingi followed your footsteps, trying to trace where you were going. it was obvious that you were frantically running around the museum, for reasons that he did not know.

while mingi was trying his hardest to find you, you were trying your hardest to prevent any issues from happening. there had been certain entry problems or people requesting you to explain some of your artworks, which led you to scurry around the museum.

your eyes were glued to your clipboard that had all of the things you needed to take note of jotted down. you were so focused that you accidentally bumped into someone.

“sorry-“ you apologised quickly.

mingi picked up your clipboard and handed it to you. not expecting much of the interaction, he almost immediately moved away from you until.. you made eye contact.

the world around you seemed to stop.

the colours came in gradually at first - the blush of red in your cheeks, the rich colours in your eyes, the vibrant blue of your shirt. it was like the first brushstrokes of a painting, the colours spread and bloomed, saturating everything around you.

you blinked, staring at the man in front of you. the moment you locked eyes with him, you knew. he was the one - your missing piece. your soulmate.

“hey,” he spoke up, his deep voice surprising you slightly.

“hi..” you replied, barely above a whisper.

the both of you stood up, the universe revealing itself to you. for the first time, you saw the world in its true beauty - it was alive.

the museum held different hues, different shades of colours you could barely recognise, each colour filling you with a joy you didn’t know you could feel.

mingi smiled. “i can’t believe it,” he said softly. “it’s so.. beautiful.”

you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, your emotions bubbling to the surface. “it really is,” you said, unable to pull your gaze away from him.

mingi wiped the tear rolling down your face, pulling you closer to him.

“you’re so pretty..” he muttered, studying your face.

there was a pause - one that was comfortable. the two of you stared into each other’s eyes, not wanting to look away.

“can i try something?” mingi asked, tilting your jaw up.

your heart raced as a blush crept up to your cheeks. “sure,” you replied, feeling a flutter in your chest.

mingi leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to back away if you wanted to. but you didn’t. instead, you closed the distance between the two of you with your lips meeting in a tender kiss.

the world around you seem to overflow with colour, with the blue in your shirt mixing with the brown of his jacket. the colours in your paintings swirled, creating a beautiful illusion of contrast.

the both of you pulled back, smiling at each other. you saw his warm brown eyes, his hair and how his cheeks were dusted with a light pink.

“i’m so glad i found you,” he said, tracing his thumb across your jaw. “i don’t feel so blue anymore.”

any and all feedback appreciated <3

other fics

series taglist [OPEN] - @jiwoongsblondehair @hwasbabygirl @chngbnwf @passerbyforfun @butterfliesinthesky @ismelllikechlorine247 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @forever-atiny @arki-sha

[syndullqs]

pull me out from the depths — anakin skywalker

summary — you were friends before the darkside enticed you. you meet again and are forced to come to terms with reality.

warnings — sith!fem!reader, fluff, mentions of violence, angst, jedi!anakin

requested by — anon <3

YOU REMEMBER IT SO CLEARLY, the day you let the dark side wrap its spindly fingers around your heart. you went from feeling powerless and insignificant to powerful and important. the pain that held residence in your soul was replaced by the soaring feeling of power. for a moment, you were unstoppable.

the jedi never fell to the hand of the chancellor, instead, he ran, escaping to a far-off planet to build his empire. he took you with him since you swore allegiance that day to the monster behind the curtain. as powerful and full as you felt, there was a void in your soul. before you accepted the dark side, you and anakin skywalker were friends. you trained together and completed campaigns together. except he was the chosen one, the one who was believed to destroy the sith. he was kind, and fearless, but had a gentle touch. you loved him, and it brought about your downfall.

you’ve had many encounters with your old friend since that day. lightsaber duels, harsh words, even barely missing each other whenever you were both on the same planet.

you were on the same planet now, and you were saber locked with the handsome jedi in front of you.

his saber was a bright blue against your angry red. your eyes bore into his, attempting to read his mind, get into his head a little, but you knew anakin. you knew he spent a long time putting up mental blocks so his mind couldn’t be read, you knew that he prided himself in the ability to ward off attacks on the mind. he was a strong warrior, but so were you.

“give up, skywalker, we all know you almost did,” your voice comes out as a hiss, pushing him off of you. you watched as he took a step back, and in that moment of vulnerability, you swung towards him, capturing his saber in another lock.

“i wasn’t the one who fell,” he seethed, using all of his strength to stay upright. he wouldn’t deny it; you’d gotten stronger. your hands wrung your saber as you bore down on him, your pain and your hatred a driving force for your duel. he hated to see it, he hated how much pain you were in and he didn’t even know it. you were right, though, anakin was tempted by the pleasures of the dark side, but he didn’t fall into them. you did, and his heart broke for you.

your sabers separated again, and you engaged in more of a duel. the loud crashing of sabers filled your head, pushing you forward. your steps were deliberate, filled with menace and malice. his were light, intent, and defensive in every step he took. your expression was wrung into anger and confusion, pain swimming in your eyes. memories flooded your mind as you swung at anakin, anger making your moves sloppy and predictable.

anakin swung, his saber crashing down on top of yours. you stumbled, losing your footing. you wouldn’t be seen as weak, you couldn’t. you pushed back, arms straining as you fought. you gritted your teeth, hissing through them as anakin’s strength prevailed.

“i don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” his voice came through like a whispering wind, warm and comforting. it was supposed to be inviting, and for a time it was, but times changed. you had changed.

“i don’t believe you,” you seethed. anakin bared his teeth, pushing you down. he wished he had the power to change fate, but he didn’t. no one did. your footing slipped, and you cast a glance down. fighting on the edge of a cliff wasn’t the best idea, especially when the depths below were welcoming you, beckoning you closer.

you answered that call once before.

you managed to gain your footing, only in time for anakin to crash his saber against yours, sending you backwards. the wind whipped around you, and with a final pull, you used the force to bring anakin with you. if you were going down, he was too. your heart was thudding in your ears, fear taking over your body. you watched as anakin fell, his expression laced with fear. he looked like a boy, someone who was vulnerable and needed to be cared for. in that moment, which you believed were your final moments, you caught a glimpse of what could have been. if you hadn’t fallen to the dark side, if you hadn’t fallen for the emperor’s tricks.

reality slammed into your chest, literally. your back slammed against the ground, knocking the wind out of you. as you choked on air, clawing at the air around you, you watched anakin hit the ground too. as breath filled your lungs again with a dramatic gasp, you gathered what little strength you had to sit up and look around. the night sky was littered with stars and two moons hung. a glow was cast on the beach, a whisper riding the wind across the sand. this was different. where were you?

“anakin?” you called out, panic rising in your tone. a very familiar tone, anakin would say. he looked around, the pain in his back spreading. he heard your voice, your tone flashing him back to a time where things were simpler. you were you, not contaminated by the dark side.

“i’m alive, thanks,” he stated, rolling onto his side. as he sat up, he watched you. he should be bitter, knowing your intent. you tried to kill him, taking him down with you.

you sat there in silence, your body relaxing into the sand. your eyes were cast out to the waters, watching as the glow of the moons rode the waves. it was mesmerizing and soothing, like ointment on a burn.

“why?” anakin asked you, bringing his eyes to look at you. your physical appearance changed, looking stronger and more menacing. your eyes weren’t the same beautiful color as they were before, instead an angry red color.

his question would haunt you for the rest of your life. you had your reasons and you thought they were good reasons.

“i had my reasons,” you stated plainly.

“what reasons? what was so important that you had to give up on the jedi and join him?” anakin argued, facing you now. he still sat away from you, making sure space was between you in case you got up and tried to kill him. again. he stunned you with his line of questioning; he made a valid point.

“i was powerless, anakin. my master died, and no one wanted to take up my training. so, i never finished it. no one believed i could do it, and i saw so many people die. my family was slaughtered, my friends, i couldn’t watch it anymore,” you started, the memories pooling to the surface, “he offered me a way to cope, and it sounded better than what i was getting,” you added softly.

anakin knew about the death of your master. it was a brutal death, he knew that. you never told him the details, explaining that ‘it was not a jedi’s role to dwell on the past.’

“what happened?” he asked you, scooting a little closer to you. so, you told him. you told him about grievous capturing you, about watching your master die in front of you, and about how you did absolutely nothing to help. it wasn’t like you could anyways; you were bound in chains.

anakin sat there, stunned. he’d heard the story, but he didn’t know you were the padawan left behind. he didn’t know that you dealt with the pain and guilt by yourself. he turned away from your eyes, looking down at the sand. he always hated sand, how it got everywhere, but it wasn’t the most important thing right now. he turned back to look at you, meeting your eyes. they weren’t an angry red color anymore, they were the beautiful hue they were before the dark side poisoned you. you were you again, at least getting there.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered. he was right next to you now, and you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. he was warm, he always was. you sighed, letting your shoulders sag. the anger behind that day drove you for so long, the guilt ate you alive. you were tired, and whatever planet you were on was making you see that.

“i’ve let the guilt eat at me for too long,” you admitted. anakin watched with hope in his eyes, begging you to come home.

“we didn’t help,” he confessed. if he’d known, he’d try to. others did know, the council, his master, they all knew but didn’t help. he tried not to let his own anger kindle.

“no, but i didn’t say anything either,” you agreed. silence sat between you, the feeling of wanting more sitting in both of your chests. you wanted to go back, but would they take you? anakin wanted you to come home, but would you take his hand?

after a while, anakin stood up. he offered you his hand. you flicked your eyes from his hand to his eyes, seeing the kindness and warmth in them, traits that made you fall in love with him at the temple. you took his hand, and he helped you stand up.

“water looks nice,” he commented. you raised an eyebrow at him.

“what does that-” you were cut off by anakin running full speed at the ocean, you in tow. you’d be laughing if there wasn’t one small thing: you never learned how to swim. yes, they had swimming lessons at the temple and they were a part of your training, but it’s been a while and you didn’t do that well, to begin with.

“anakin, wait-” you called as the water hit your body. it was cold, washing over you and opening up your senses. it enveloped you, thrashing you around. fear rose in your chest as you were cast underwater, panic sitting in your stomach as air failed to reach your lungs. this was nature’s revenge, wasn’t it? you’ve committed atrocities for so long nature wanted to get even. you didn’t blame her, you weren’t the kindest to mother nature.

a hand grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled you above the water. panic rose in anakin’s face as he watched you inhale, gasping for air. your hands softly closed around your throat, tears brimming your eyes as you tasted the sweet flavor of oxygen.

“i thought you could swim!” anakin said, pulling you both to shallower water.

“i never said that,” you snapped back, now freezing. your arms wrapped around yourself as you stood in thigh-deep water, watching as anakin recovered. he thought he lost you, for real too. he ran a hand through his wet curls, nodding as he came to a decision.

“then it’s time i teach you,” he stated. you gave him a look, raising your eyebrows and scoffing.

“no,”

“come on, y/n, it’s a life skill,” he teased. it felt natural, all of this. you felt like friends again, teasing each other after sparring sessions. you felt normal, and it filled you in all the right places. it’s what you’ve been missing.

“fine,” you agreed, not being able to help the smile on your face as you watched anakin pump his fist at his side. for the next hour, you think, he taught you how to swim. treading water, using your arms and your legs to propel you, and even how to control your breathing. it was the hardest when anakin’s hands were on your waist, helping keep you afloat whenever you’d falter.

after a while of practicing, you were finally able to swim on your own. as embarrassing as it felt, you didn’t feel judged by anakin. he’d tease you here and there, but it was normal.

“see? i told you you could do it,” anakin met you, a smirk growing on his face. you rolled your eyes as you treaded water with tired legs.

“yeah whatever,” you scoffed. you felt light, as if nothing could touch you. your eyes flicked over anakin, watching the glow of the moon reflect in his eyes, casting a beautiful hue to his skin. he was beautiful, he always was.

“what?” he asked softly.

“nothing,” you covered up, “let’s get back to the shore, i think we forgot we don’t know where we are,” you added. you found your way back to the sand, trudging up to where you were once sat. anakin followed behind you, sitting next to you.

“y/n,” he started. he looked over at you, sensing the turmoil in you. the light was pulling you back, he could see it. he wanted you to come back home, to come back to him. you turned to face him, your expression soft and inviting. there you were.

“i never thought you were helpless,” he commented, “i always thought you were strong, kind, and adaptable,” he finished. when he looked at you, he saw strength, he saw kindness, he saw someone struggling. his chest heaved with deep intakes of breath, realization settling in. his affection for you, his love for you, never subsided. even when you left, turning away from him and the light side.

you didn’t know what to say to him. you just looked at him, feeling your hard heart melt. you slowly took his hand, and with his other he caressed your face. warmth exploded in your face, stretching down your neck and your body. he’s always had this affect on you.

“can i kiss you?” he asked you. you were appalled, but you did want to. you wanted him to kiss you until your days were up.

“yes,” you answered simply, and as you finished saying the word, he pressed his lips to yours. he tasted of the ocean, of warmth. his lips fit against yours, pulling you in closer. you wanted to stay there forever, held by his lips and his arms, but you couldn’t. you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“come home,” he asked you, begged you. there was that tug again, the voice inside your head.

“ok,” you whispered, letting anakin pull you out of the depths of your own soul.

good golly this was a long one. i sort of deviated from the request a little (so sorry anon!!) but i hope you still enjoy! it’s been a minute since i’ve written a fic on here, but i hope it’s still worthy material LOL. enjoy!

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 14/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, teasing, Language, age gap

Word Count: 7612

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and despite the overwhelming sensations you had just experienced, your desire for him only grew.

“I need to be inside you”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

Jensen knew exactly what his words did to you, and he relished the effect he had on you. With a teasing grin, he sat back, pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his toned body.

He stood up from the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off the rest of his clothes. Each piece of clothing he removed revealed more of his perfect physique, leaving you in awe of his raw masculinity. His movements were slow and deliberate, giving you ample time to admire every inch of him.

Jensen stepped back towards the bed, his erection standing proud and commanding your attention. The sight of him, so raw and powerful, sent another surge of desire through you. But as your eyes traveled down his body, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of intimidation. You remembered how intense it had been the last time, how Jensen had stretched you out until it hurt in the most delicious way.

Sensing your hesitation, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that was filled with both reassurance and hunger. “I’ve got you”, he murmured against your lips.

With a gentle but insistent grip, he spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. He took a moment to caress your thighs, his touch sending shivers up your spine. “Ready?”, he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of passion and concern.

You nodded, your breath coming in short, excited gasps.

He grabbed his dick by its base, the heat of it juxtaposed against the slickness of your folds as he let it slip through them a few times, teasing and preparing you. Each pass made you shiver, the anticipation building with each tantalizing touch.

Then, with deliberate care, he lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes meeting yours as he started to inch forward. The initial pressure made you gasp, but the sensation was intoxicating. However, as the pleasure took control, Jensen lost himself in the moment and sank inside you with one deep, powerful thrust.

You cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders as he filled you completely. The sudden stretch was intense, but the way he fit inside you felt perfect. Jensen groaned loudly, the sound filled with raw pleasure as he felt your tightness envelop him.

“You’re so tight", he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Feels incredible”.

The fullness and pressure sent waves of sensation through your body, making you arch against him, seeking more. “Jensen”, you moaned, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all.

Jensen started to move, his thrusts instantly setting a rougher pace. Each powerful, deep stroke made your pelvis rock against his, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot with unerring precision. The intensity of the sensation made your head spin.

“You feel so good”, he groaned, his voice rough with desire. “So fucking tight around me. You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?”.

Your stomach churned at his words, making you even wetter. Your hands clutched his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh as you tried to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensation. This was the first time Jensen had gone rougher with you, and the intensity was almost more than you could handle.

As the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level, you instinctively closed your eyes, trying to manage the onslaught of sensations. But Jensen wasn’t having it. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Keep your eyes open, sweetheart”, he commanded, his voice low and authoritative.

To emphasize his point, he thrust into you hard and deep, the force of it almost painful but overwhelmingly intense. Your eyes flew open, locking onto his as the pleasure and slight pain mingled into something even more powerful.

“That’s it”, he growled, his eyes burning with desire. “I want to see you when you come. I want to see everything”.

The way he looked at you, so possessive and hungry, sent a fresh wave of arousal through your body. His hips moved with a relentless rhythm, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

You moaned his name, your voice raw with need. “Jensen… please…”.

“Please what?”, he asked, his thrusts never faltering. “Tell me what you want”.

“I want to come”, you begged, your body trembling. “I need it”.

Jensen’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Then come for me”, he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Come for me, right now”.

His words, combined with the intensity of his thrusts, sent you spiraling into another orgasm. Your body convulsed around him, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Without giving you a moment to catch your breath, Jensen pulled out of you, his movements swift and determined. He turned you onto your stomach, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising grasp as he pulled you up onto your knees. The sudden shift made you whimper, a mixture of surprise and anticipation coursing through you.

“Stay right there”, he commanded, his voice husky with arousal. His hands slid up your back, caressing your skin before returning to your hips, positioning you exactly how he wanted.

You felt his hard length pressing against you again, the heat and urgency of his need almost overwhelming. Jensen didn’t waste any time, thrusting back into you with a force that made you cry out. The new angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, each powerful stroke hitting deep inside you.

Jensen’s pace was relentless, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drove into you over and over.

He paused for a moment, his mind racing with desire. Then, with a firm but gentle grip, he tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled your head up, testing your reaction. The initial pull was gentle, a tentative check to see if you enjoyed it. You responded with a breathless moan, the sensation heightening your arousal.

Taking your reaction as encouragement, Jensen tightened his grip, pulling your head back further. The mix of pleasure and the slight edge of pain made you gasp, your body arching into the sensation. “I knew you weren’t that innocent”, he groaned teasingly.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel your arousal intensify. Jensen’s grip on your hair was firm, the control he had over you pushing you closer to the edge. His other hand moved to your waist, holding you steady as he resumed his powerful thrusts.

“You like it rough, don’t you?”, he murmured, his voice low and rough. “You like it when I take control”.

“Yes”, you moaned, your voice barely audible as the pleasure overwhelmed you. “I love it”.

Jensen’s grip tightened even more, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. The new angle sent jolts of pleasure through your body, each stroke hitting your most sensitive spots. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensation.

“Good girl”, Jensen whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

Jensen’s hips slapped against yours with each powerful thrust, the sound mingling with your moans and the wetness between your thighs. By now, you were just a moaning mess, your body completely at his mercy. Your pussy ached from the intensity, your head spinning with the overwhelming sensations. The only thing you could think about was his thick cock splitting you in half with each deep, hard thrust.

Jensen knew exactly what he was doing, each movement calculated to hit the perfect spots inside you. His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you back against him, his chest pressing against your back.

Your only response was a series of breathless moans and gasps, your body arching back into him, desperate for more of the intense pleasure he was giving you. Jensen’s free hand moved from your waist to your clit, his fingers expertly rubbing and adding another layer of sensation that made you cry out.

You gasped, your breath coming in ragged, desperate bursts. “I can’t… I can’t anymore”, you whimpered, the intensity overwhelming you. But Jensen could feel how close you were, your body clenching around him with every thrust.

“Yes, you can”, he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I know you can. You’re so close, baby. Just a little more”.

His words spurred you on, your body responding to his command even as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of what you could handle. Jensen’s fingers on your clit moved faster, his thrusts growing even more powerful as he drove you towards another orgasm.

“Come for me”, he urged, his voice filled with raw desire. “I want to feel you come again. I want to feel you squeeze me so tight”.

The combination of his words and the relentless pleasure he was giving you pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed as you came hard, your climax crashing over you with an intensity that left you shaking. You cried out his name, the sound filling the room as your body tightened around him.

Jensen’s restraint was evident in the way his muscles tensed, in the way his breath hitched.

Your body went numb, your ears ringing and your breath burning. Jensen held you close to his chest, preventing you from collapsing forward.

“You did so well, baby”, he murmured breathless. Jensen’s hands roamed gently over your stomach, caressing your skin as you shivered in his arms. “Just breathe”, he whispered, his lips brushing your temple. “I’ve got you”.

Gradually, your breathing steadied, the ringing in your ears subsiding. You felt the strength return to your limbs, though your body still tingled from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Jensen kissed your shoulder blades, his lips leaving a trail of warmth across your skin. One of his arms was wrapped securely around you, his hand cupping your left breast, squeezing it softly. The gentle pressure sent another shiver of pleasure through your already sensitized body.

“Okay?”, he asked raspily after a while, his voice filled with both concern and desire.

You nodded weakly, your hands gripping his arm around your waist, trying to steady yourself. Jensen gave you a few more moments, his touch gentle and soothing, before he carefully pulled out. He sat back against the headboard of the bed, giving himself a few pumps as he looked at you expectantly.

Realization dawned on you, and you felt a wave of nervousness wash over you. You had never been on top before, and the thought of taking control in such an intimate way made your heart race. Jensen must have sensed your hesitation because his expression softened, his eyes filled with reassurance.

“It’s okay”, he murmured. “We’ll go at your pace. There’s no rush”.

His words calmed you a bit, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You moved slowly, straddling his hips and feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against you. Jensen’s hands rested on your thighs, offering support and encouragement.

You bit your lip nervously as you gently took Jensen’s length in your hand, feeling its warmth and solidity against your palm. In your grasp, it looked larger than it did in his own, adding to your sense of anticipation and nervousness. Jensen watched you closely, his gaze fixed on your face, studying every little movement and expression.

“I don’t want to hurt you”, you whispered, voicing your concern as you shifted slightly.

Jensen chuckled softly, a hint of cockiness in his demeanor as he gripped your hipbones firmly, his touch both reassuring and possessive. “Trust me, baby”, he murmured, his voice low and filled with confidence. “You won’t hurt me. Just relax and let go”.

His words eased some of your tension, and you nodded, drawing another deep breath to steady yourself. Slowly, you positioned yourself over him again, guiding him to your entrance. With a mixture of nervousness and determination, you began to lower yourself onto him, taking him in inch by inch.

Jensen groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as his grip on your hips loosened slightly. The sound of his pleasure sent a thrill through you, bolstering your confidence. You paused for a moment, savoring the sensation of him filling you partially, still not completely lowered.

The anticipation built within you, a mix of nerves and desire driving you forward. You took another deep breath and continued to lower yourself onto him, feeling every inch as you took him deeper. Jensen’s breathing grew heavier, his hands caressing your thighs in encouragement.

“That’s it”, he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. “Take your time. You’re doing so well”.

You bit your lip again, focusing on the sensations coursing through your body. Inch by inch, you descended further, until finally, you were fully seated on him. The feeling of fullness was intense, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure that made you gasp.

You swallowed hard at the new angle, the intensity of the sensation leaving you momentarily afraid to move. Jensen’s eyes met yours, filled with a mix of desire and reassurance. He reached up, gently pulling your shirt up and over your head, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His fingers deftly unhooked your bra, sliding it off your shoulders and letting it fall away.

His hands moved to your breasts, cupping them gently and rolling your nipples between his fingers. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp.

You started to move your hips slowly and carefully, the sensation of Jensen inside you intensifying with each subtle movement. Jensen’s breath hitched, the strain of restraint evident in the way his veins stood out on his neck.

His hands continued to explore your breasts, his touch both tender and possessive. He gently squeezed and kneaded, his thumbs brushing lightly over your sensitive nipples, eliciting soft moans from your lips. The combination of his touch and the slow, deliberate rocking of your hips sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

You adjusted your movements, experimenting with angles and rhythms, seeking the perfect balance of pleasure for both of you.

Jensen raised a brow, watching you with a mixture of tenderness and amusement as you bit your lip in concentration, still trying to find the right rhythm and angle. Despite your efforts, your lack of experience and the fatigue in your knees from previous orgasms made it challenging to maintain the smoothness you desired.

“You’re not often on top, are you?”, he grinned, his voice tinged with playful affection.

Your eyes met his instantly, and you felt a wave of insecurity and a touch of shame wash over you. You tried to overplay it, giving him a small, forced smile. “Is it that obvious?”, you replied, attempting to sound lighthearted.

Jensen licked his lips, the sight of your vulnerability and willingness to learn clearly turning him on. His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and affection. “It’s a bit obvious”, he admitted with a playful grin, “but I think it’s incredibly sexy”.

Your forced smile softened, turning more genuine as you absorbed his reassurance. “Let me help you”, he whispered.

His large hands moved to your hips, adjusting your position with a gentle but firm touch. He bent you slightly forward, the new angle immediately changing the sensation. Your breath hitched as you felt the head of his length brush against your G-spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Oh”, you gasped, your eyes widening at the intensity of the new sensation. Jensen’s hands held you steady, guiding your movements with a tender but confident touch.

“Just like that”, he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. “You feel that? That’s your sweet spot”.

You nodded, your heart pounding as you adjusted to the new angle. Slowly, you began to move again, this time more sure of yourself as Jensen’s guidance helped you find a rhythm that felt incredible. Each movement sent ripples of pleasure radiating from your core, building a delicious tension within you.

Jensen’s grip on your hips tightened slightly, his own breath becoming more ragged as he watched you take control. “You’re doing amazing, baby”, he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. “Keep going. Just like that”.

You moaned in response, the pleasure building within you almost overwhelming. “It feels so good”, you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you rode the waves of sensation.

“Look at me”, Jensen murmured.

You opened your eyes, locking gazes with him. The intensity in his eyes, a mix of raw desire and deep affection, sent another shiver down your spine.

“Let me show you something”, Jensen murmured, his voice filled with promise. He shifted slightly beneath you, his hands steadying your hips as he helped. “Move just like this”.

Following his lead, you rocked your hips in the way he demonstrated, feeling the sensation change immediately. It was deeper, more intense, and you could tell by Jensen’s reaction that it was hitting the right spot for him too.

“Yes, that’s it”, he groaned, his eyes closing for a moment in sheer pleasure before reopening to lock onto yours.

Jensen had been with women who knew exactly what they were doing, women who moved with practiced precision and confidence. But there was something incredibly arousing about your hesitation, your innocence, your struggle to keep up with his size. It was your genuine effort and eagerness to please him that turned him on more than anything else.

Your palms flattened against Jensen’s shoulders, your lip constantly between your teeth as you moved your hips against him. The sensation of your tightness around him was almost too much for Jensen, and he had to hold back to maintain control. His face dropped against your chest, his lips trailing down towards your nipples, each kiss sending shivers through your body. You held him close by his hair, savoring the intimate connection.

But as the intensity built, your movements began to slow, exhaustion starting to take over. “Keep moving”, Jensen urged, his voice slightly rough and strained with need, his lips brushing against your breast. The urgency in his voice sent a renewed wave of desire through you, but your body felt heavy, each motion requiring more effort than the last.

Sensing your struggle, Jensen’s grip on your hips tightened. He began to guide your movements more forcefully, his hands urging you to keep the rhythm. “Don’t stop”, he groaned, his need evident in every word.

As you rode him with everything you had, Jensen’s face dropped back against your collarbone, his hot breath fanning your skin. His lips trailed up your neck, delivering soft bites and kisses that sent electric shivers through your body.

“Jensen”, you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper as you felt the build of your climax becoming inevitable. His name on your lips seemed to push him closer to his own edge.

With one final, powerful thrust, you felt your orgasm crash over you, your body clenching tightly around him. You cried out his name, the intensity of the sensation leaving you trembling and breathless. The way your body squeezed him was too much for Jensen, and with a guttural moan, he released deep inside you, his hot cum filling you as he pulsed through his climax.

Both of you were left panting, your bodies spent and intertwined. Jensen’s face rested against your collarbone, his breath heavy and warm against your skin. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as you both came down from the heights of your shared pleasure.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your synchronized breathing and the comforting warmth of his body against yours. Jensen’s lips found your neck again, this time in a soft, loving kiss. He lingered there, his breath warm against your skin as he planted a trail of gentle kisses up to your jawline. You could feel the smile forming on his lips as he nuzzled into you, clearly enjoying the intimate aftermath of your shared climax.

“Still got some energy left in you?”, he teased, his voice a low, playful whisper against your ear. His breath tickled your skin, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

You swallowed, feeling the lingering effects of your intense climax. Your legs were still shaking, and a pleasant dizziness left you feeling unable to sit up anymore. But you didn’t want to admit that, not wanting to seem weak. “Of course”, you replied, trying to sound convincing.

Jensen could tell you were lying. His teasing smile widened, and he pressed another kiss to your neck, his hands still caressing your back. “Really?”, he murmured, his voice laced with playful skepticism. “Because you look like you’re about to collapse on me”.

You tried to maintain your composure, but your body betrayed you, trembling slightly as you tried to hold yourself up. Jensen’s hands moved to your hips, supporting you as he continued to nuzzle your neck. “I’m fine”, you insisted, though your voice lacked conviction.

Jensen’s chuckle was low and knowing. “You don’t have to pretend with me”, he said softly, his tone gentle but firm.

You didn't say anything.

“You’re so stubborn,” he murmured teasingly, his breath warm against your ear. “But I kind of like that about you”.

You managed a weak smile, trying to maintain your composure, but Jensen’s persistence made it difficult. He kissed his way up to your jawline, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling back slightly to meet your eyes. “I can feel how exhausted you are”, he said, his voice a playful growl. “And I think it’s adorable that you’re trying so hard to hide it”.

You bit your lip, trying to keep up the pretense, but your body was giving out. Jensen’s hands shifted to your thighs, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin.

You sighed, finally letting the last of your defenses down. “Fine, you win”, you admitted, your voice soft but laced with affection. “I’m exhausted”.

Jensen’s smile widened, a mixture of cockiness and sweetness. “I knew it”, he said triumphantly. “But that just makes me want to take care of you even more”.

Before acting too fast, he looked around, spotting the tissue box on your nightstand. He reached over and pulled out a few tissues, then gently eased you down onto the mattress. He moved with care, ensuring you were comfortable.

When he gently pulled out of you, he quickly caught his leaking cum with the tissues, his movements tender and considerate. “Just relax”, he murmured. “I’ve got you”.

You watched him through half-lidded eyes, appreciating his thoughtfulness. Jensen cleaned you up with gentle strokes, his touch soothing and filled with affection. Once he was satisfied that you were comfortable, he discarded the used tissues and let himself sink beside you, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him. He gently pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace.

“I wasn’t that bad, right?”, you asked hesitantly, your voice clearly unsure. The uncertainty in your tone made Jensen chuckle softly. He kissed your forehead, a tender gesture that made your heart swell with affection.

“Do you want the sweet answer or the honest one?”, he teased.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a pang of anxiety. “Honest”, you mumbled quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jensen’s smile widened, and he bent down, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing on your skin. “Honestly”, he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw desire, “yours is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked”.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, both from the intimate confession and the intensity of his tone. You felt a rush of warmth and pride, your insecurities melting away in the face of his genuine praise.

Jensen smirked down at you, enjoying the sight of your blush spreading across your cheeks. Your eyes were half-closed, looking completely spent, yet filled with a quiet satisfaction. He couldn’t help but tease you a bit more, his voice playful and affectionate.

“The old man really did wear you out, huh?”, he said, a grin spreading across his face.

You laughed softly, the sound a mix of exhaustion and contentment. “Maybe just a little”, you admitted, your voice still breathless from the intensity of your shared experience.

Jensen’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Just a little, huh?”, he teased, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. “I think I did more than just a little”.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his touch and the playful edge in his voice. “Okay, maybe a lot”, you admitted, smiling up at him.

Jensen’s expression softened as he gazed at you, his eyes filled with affection. He gently lifted your head, looking at you for a moment as if committing the sight to memory. Then, he bent down slightly and softly laid his lips on yours.

You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer. The exhaustion you felt seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of his embrace and the gentle pressure of his lips against yours. Jensen’s hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his affection and tenderness into the moment.

As the kiss deepened, Jensen's embrace grew tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips moved with a slow, deliberate passion, conveying emotions that words couldn't capture.

When he finally pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, Jensen's eyes searched yours with a mixture of adoration and wonder. "You're something else", he whispered against your lips, his voice husky with emotion.

Your heart fluttered at his words. "So are you", you replied softly, your fingers trailing gently along his jawline.

Jensen kissed you once more, his fingers tracing gently over your lower back, sending delightful shivers through your body. His touch was soft and reverent, as if he was savoring every moment. As his lips moved tenderly against yours, he mumbled, “Your skin is so smooth”, his voice filled with awe.

You chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, your own twinkling with amusement. “You’ve told me that a million times”, you teased gently, remembering how he had praised the smoothness of your skin during your last night together.

Jensen grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “And I’ll say it a million more times”, he replied, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration of your back.

With a gentle tug, he pulled you flat onto his body, your chest pressed against his. The warmth of his skin against yours sent another delightful shiver through you. You nestled into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

He looked down at you. “Comfortable?”, he asked, his voice a playful whisper.

You smiled up at him, feeling completely at ease in his arms. “Very”, you replied, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I could stay like this forever”.

Jensen’s smile softened, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. “I wouldn’t mind”, he murmured against your lips. “Not one bit”.

You laughed softly, the sound a mix of contentment and affection. “You’re such a sap”, you teased, though your heart swelled.

“Only for you”, he responded, his hands gently roaming over your back, drawing lazy patterns that made you feel even more relaxed.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

For a while, you lay there in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the closeness and warmth of each other’s presence. The world outside ceased to matter, and all that existed was the two of you, wrapped up in a cocoon of love and intimacy.

Jensen’s voice broke the silence, soft and filled with tenderness. “You know, I never thought I’d find someone like you”, he said, his fingers still tracing gentle patterns on your back.

“Someone like me?”, you whispered teasingly. “Like someone who makes old man jokes?”.

Jensen’s expression shifted from tenderness to mock offense, and before you could react, you felt a sharp but playful slap on your ass. “Hey!”, you yelped, both surprised and amused.

“You ruined the damn moment”, he said with a grin.

“I’m sorry”, you said, still smiling, but Jensen shook his head. “Nuh uh”, he replied, his grin widening.

“Please, come on”, you said, your tone turning playful and a bit pleading. “What is it you wanted to say?”.

Jensen just shook his head again. “Nope, you had your chance”.

Determined, you propped yourself up on your elbows, pouting and looking at him with big, pleading eyes. “Pleeeaaase”, you whined softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his jaw. “Tell me?”.

Jensen’s resolve seemed to waver as you continued to kiss along his jawline, your lips trailing soft, teasing kisses. “Please, Jensen?”, you murmured against his skin, your voice a soft, seductive whisper.

He groaned softly, clearly enjoying the attention but trying to hold on to his playful stubbornness. “You’re not playing fair”, he muttered, his hands sliding up your back.

You smiled against his skin, knowing you were getting to him. “I never play fair”, you whispered, continuing your kisses, moving closer to his lips. “But I really want to know”.

Jensen sighed dramatically, pretending to be exasperated, but the fondness in his eyes gave him away. “Alright, alright”, he said, his voice softening as he looked at you. “What I wanted to say was… I never thought I’d find someone who makes me as happy as you do”.

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart racing like crazy at his words. Overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings, you pressed your face against his chest, seeking refuge in the comforting warmth of his embrace. Expressing such deep emotions was something you often struggled with, even though your heart was overflowing with love for him.

Jensen chuckled softly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your hair. “You’re blushing”, he teased, his voice soft and affectionate. “You’re so adorable when you get all shy on me”.

You mumbled something unintelligible against his chest, feeling both embarrassed and touched by his words. Jensen’s fingers continued to comb through your hair soothingly, his touch grounding you and helping to calm your racing heart.

“You know”, he murmured softly, his voice a gentle murmur above your head, “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”.

You felt your heart flutter at his words, a mixture of warmth and nervousness filling you. “You really mean that?”, you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen’s hand stilled in your hair for a moment. “Absolutely”, he said with conviction. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before”.

“I’ve never felt this way either”, you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.

You pressed your face harder against his naked, slightly sticky chest, seeking the comforting warmth of his skin.

Jensen’s hand resumed its soothing motions in your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring. “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?���, he said softly, his voice a gentle rumble you felt through his chest. “Finding someone who makes you feel like this”.

You nodded against him, the words too heavy and meaningful to speak aloud. Instead, you let your actions convey what you felt, your arms wrapping tightly around him, holding him close.

He kissed the top of your head, before he shifted slightly, adjusting your position so you were more comfortable against him. His hand continued to stroke your hair.

As you lay there together, you realized that this was just the beginning.

“Thank you”, you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen pressed another kiss to your head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he replied, “For what?”.

“For being you”, you replied honestly.

A smile tugged at the corners of Jensen’s lips, his eyes softening with affection as he gazed down at you.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, the intensity of the moment hanging between you. Without another word, Jensen leaned down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

Jensen gently turned around with you, shifting his weight until he hovered above you. His lips never left yours, the kiss deepening with each passing moment, filled with a mixture of passion and tenderness. As he moved, his hands explored your body with gentle caresses, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

His lips began to travel down your jawline, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your skin.

As his lips continued their journey, they found the sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp softly. Jensen’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture as he kissed and nibbled his way down to your collarbone.

The feeling of his lips on your skin was both intoxicating and comforting, a blend of familiarity and excitement. You arched slightly beneath him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, wanting more of his touch.

Jensen’s kisses grew more deliberate as he moved lower, trailing down over your collarbone and toward your breasts. His breath was hot against your skin, his touch gentle yet insistent. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, seeking silent permission to continue.

You nodded, your eyes half-closed with desire, and Jensen’s lips found their way to the sensitive skin of your breast. He pressed a kiss just above your heart before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it with exquisite care.

A soft moan escaped your lips, your body responding to his touch with a fervor you could barely contain. Jensen’s hand cupped your other breast, his thumb and forefinger gently teasing your nipple, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, urging him to continue. Jensen responded by lavishing the same attention on your other breast, his lips and tongue working in harmony to drive you wild.

As he continued to explore your body, his kisses trailed lower, moving down your abdomen with the same tender care. Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to the deep connection and affection you shared, a promise of more to come.

Jensen paused just above your navel, his eyes meeting yours once more. The look in his eyes was one of pure love and desire, a reflection of the bond you had formed.

Slowly, he moved lower, his kisses trailing down to your hips. With gentle hands, he spread your legs, his touch tender and reverent. He started to kiss your inner thighs, his lips brushing against your skin with a delicate intensity that made you shiver.

His eyes remained locked with yours, the connection between you deepening with every glance.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Jensen’s kisses grew more insistent, his hands gently caressing your thighs.

He moved closer to your core, his breath hot against your skin, and you could feel your pulse quicken in response. Jensen’s eyes never left yours, his gaze a steady anchor in the overwhelming tide of sensations. “Trust me”, he whispered. “Just let go”.

With that, he dipped his head lower, his lips finally finding their way to your most intimate spot. The first touch of his mouth against you was electric, a jolt of pleasure that made you arch your back and gasp his name. But instead of diving in with his tongue, Jensen took his time, savoring the moment. His lips moved with exquisite gentleness, placing featherlight kisses on your most intimate spots.

Your breath hitched with each gentle kiss, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as the anticipation built to a fever pitch. “Jensen”, you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”.

His response was a soft hum of acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued his tender exploration. The kisses grew a little firmer, a little more insistent, but still maintaining that featherlight touch that was driving you wild with desire.

Just then, Jensen’s phone on the nightstand rang, the screen lighting up with Jared’s name. The sound cut through the haze of pleasure, making you momentarily aware of your surroundings.

“It’s Jared”, you mumbled breathlessly between soft moans, your body still thrumming with the anticipation of his touch.

Jensen grinned mischievously, his lips hovering just above your clit. “Answer it”, he murmured, his breath hot against your most sensitive spot.

Your eyes widened in surprise, a shiver running through you at the unexpected suggestion. “Are you serious?”, you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of shock and excitement.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled as he nodded. “Yeah”, he said, his voice a low, seductive growl. “Answer it”.

With a shaky hand, you reached for the phone, your heart racing. You swiped to answer, bringing the phone to your ear just as Jensen’s mouth found its mark again.

Jensen still didn’t use his tongue, just his lips, placing featherlight kisses. You answered the phone, your voice trembling as you tried to maintain your composure. “H-hey Jared”.

Jared chuckled on the other end of the line, his tone light and teasing. “So you’re answering his phone now, huh? Where is he?”.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as Jensen’s kisses grew more insistent. “He’s, um, he’s right here”, you managed to say, your voice breathy and uneven.

Jensen’s eyes met yours, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he continued his gentle assault, his lips never leaving you. He seemed to take pleasure in your struggle to maintain control, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Right here, huh?”, Jared’s voice was full of curiosity. “What’s he doing? Can I talk to him?”.

You fought to keep your voice steady, each kiss from Jensen sending waves of pleasure through you. “He’s a bit… busy right now”, you replied, your breath hitching. “Can I take a message?”.

Jared laughed, clearly amused. “Busy? What’s he doing that’s so important?”.

Jensen’s eyes gleamed with playful defiance as he pressed a particularly insistent kiss to your clit, making you gasp. You struggled to find your voice, the sensations overwhelming. “He’s, um, helping me with something”, you said, barely managing to get the words out.

Just then, Jensen flicked his tongue out, finally adding a new layer of sensation that made you nearly lose your grip on the phone. The intensity of his touch sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making it even harder to maintain your composure.

“Oh really?”, Jared’s voice came through the phone, still amused. “What’s he helping you with?”.

You bit your lip, your body trembling as you tried to focus. “It’s, um, kind of hard to explain”, you replied, your voice shaking.

Jensen’s tongue continued its exquisite exploration, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes that drove you wild. You could barely think straight, let alone keep up with the conversation.

The heat between you and Jensen intensified with every stroke of his tongue, each movement designed to bring you closer to the edge. Despite Jared’s voice still on the phone, you struggled to maintain any semblance of composure.

“It’s, uh, a project”, you managed to stammer out, your voice wavering as Jensen’s mouth worked magic on you. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your thighs, adding to the overwhelming sensations that pulsed through your body.

Jared chuckled lightly, clearly entertained by your distracted responses. “A project?”, he replied. “Sounds like quite the project”.

You could sense Jensen’s grin against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. He intensified his efforts, his tongue finding just the right rhythm that made your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat.

“Yeah”, you managed to say, trying to focus on the conversation while Jensen’s touch pushed you closer to the brink. “A… special project”.

Jared’s laughter echoed through the phone. “Well, tell Jensen he’s a lucky guy”. he said. “He should call me when he’s ‘free’ again”.

You struggled to respond, Jensen’s skilled ministrations overwhelming your senses. “I will”, you managed to utter between gasps, your voice strained with pleasure.

Jared chuckled knowingly. “Alright then”, he said, his tone lighthearted. “Have fun with your… special project”.

Before you could reply, Jared hung up, leaving you alone with Jensen and the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. Jensen’s lips and tongue continued their tantalizing dance, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

As Jared’s voice faded from your mind, you surrendered fully to the pleasure Jensen was giving you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on as your body trembled with the intensity of your arousal. Jensen responded eagerly, his actions driven by a combination of passion and a desire to please you completely.

The room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and soft moans, punctuated by the wet, intoxicating sounds of Jensen’s mouth on you. He brought you to the brink and held you there, expertly teasing and pleasing until you shattered into a blissful release.

With a shuddering gasp, you reached your peak, your body trembling with the force of your climax. Jensen’s movements slowed, his touch gentle and soothing as he helped you ride out the waves of pleasure washing over you.

As you came down from the euphoric high, Jensen eased himself up, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You lay there, catching your breath, your body still tingling from the intense pleasure. When you finally managed to look at him, you sent him a playful deadpan glance, raising an eyebrow at his mischievous grin.

Jensen hovered above you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You did so well”, he teased, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe you should think about a career as an actress. You managed to keep it together pretty impressively with Jared on the phone”.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and breathless. “You’re evil”, you said, shaking your head. “That was so hard”.

Jensen chuckled, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. “But you did it”, he murmured against your mouth. “And you looked incredibly sexy doing it”.

Jensen licked his lips, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked down at you. “Think you can handle another round?”, he asked, his voice a low, seductive murmur.

Your eyes followed his gaze to his impressive erection standing proudly between the two of you. The sight sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your body, and you felt your breath hitch in anticipation. You bit your lip, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you looked back up at him.

“Do you even have to ask?”, you replied, your voice filled with a mixture of teasing and genuine desire.

Jensen’s smirk widened, his hands gently caressing your sides as he positioned himself between your legs. “Good answer”, he said, his voice a husky whisper. He leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his body pressing against yours.

While kissing, Jensen grabbed his erection, lining himself up with your entrance. With a shaky groan against your lips, he let himself sink deep inside you, the sensation overwhelming both of you. “Fuck, (Y/N)”, he mumbled, his voice thick with pleasure.

You gasped at the feeling of him filling you completely, your body arching to meet his. Jensen paused for a moment, allowing both of you to savor the connection before he began to move.

He started with slow, deliberate thrusts, each one drawing a soft moan from your lips. His forehead pressed against yours, eyes locked in a shared moment of intimacy and passion.

Another round later, as your breathing slowed and your bodies relaxed, Jensen gently rolled to the side, pulling you close against his chest. You nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. His arms wrapped around you protectively, holding you as if he never wanted to let go.

You smiled against his chest. “No cleaning me up anymore?”, you teased softly.

Jensen chuckled tiredly, his voice warm and deep. “It’s unnecessary anyway”, he mumbled, his words a mixture of affection and exhaustion.

You tilted your head up to look at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “For someone who seems to enjoy coming inside me, you never asked if I’m on the pill”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 15

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Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2

[daisybianca]

pairing: lewis hamilton x yn

summary: lewis is kind of a mafia type of guy here, but he still remains the best f1 driver in history with 8 championships (!). mafia means that he kinda kills people. he's always hot put now he is double hot. idk if that's even possible, but anyway. you're his girl, and he sees that someone made a bruise on your hand. spoiler alert: i doesn't end well for the guilty man.

warnings: lots of cursing words, sexual actions, mentions of death, etc

(a/n): it is written in 1 pov, from his point of view. though it couldn't get any hotter? nah, it can.

WHEN I UNLOCK my mansion's door and come see my girlfriend crying, three completely different options pass through my mind.

One. Killing someone.

Two. Making someone regret.

Three. Doing both of those after kissing my woman's tears until the don't exist anymore.

I rush to her on the couch, not even bothering to shut the door behind me. "What happened, baby?" I get on my knees and try to hold her close to me. She doesn't meet my gaze. She's hidden her face behind her little hands, but I can still take a glimpse of her scorching hot, red cheeks. "Hey, y/n, talk to me." I try to persuade her, even though it seems impossible.

"P-please," she stutters, and something dark and colorful captures my attention on her left wrist.

Fuck.

It's a bruise. A fucking bruise. A huge one to be exact.

I try to compose myself. It's not even enough. I think my jawline starts to tremble, and I don't even notice at first. "Y/N," I force her to look at me, forcing her hands away off her beautiful face. Her features are soft but her precious eyes have turned swollen and her lips are tighter than ever. "Who did this to you?" The words come out sharp. I don't even think about them to be honest.

She is my fucking woman. These are the rules. Nobody is allowed to touch her in a way that she doesn't want to. Not even me.

I cup her small face with both my hands. "Who hurt you, baby?"

I hear a soft cry and then she tries to speak again but doesn't manage to do it properly without stuttering.

Fuck, I won't look good in jail clothing.

I bit my lip in order to not lose it just at this fucking moment. My fists become a ball. My girl notices and places her little ones over my hands to stop the shaking.

"Baby, please," I mouth. "Tell me who the bastard is, and I swear, he'll never see sunlight again to touch you." Forcing myself to stand up, in a matter of seconds, I sit on the couch, and she's moved on my lap. I think I'm losing my mind each time she looks at me, and I don't know who to kill. "Just tell me a name, Y/N."

She finally stops crying. Fuck.

My heart jumps each time she attempts to speak but is unable to due to the silent sobs.

A few seconds pass.

A few more, too.

Eventually, I feel a hand pressing on my chest and immediately blood rushes straight to my cock.

Damn it.

Of course, my dick doesn't get the whole situation. It has a whole brain of its one. In fact, we are under hard circumstances right now. And surely, there can't be anything harder than that at the moment.

She hides her face in my neck. I place my hand on the back of it and wait.

I think my blood pressure is on its fucking limits when she turns to face me. "It's my ex." She blurts out suddenly. I want to laugh but I don't.

Oh this fucking bastard again... Though we were done with him by the time I threatened him with his life if he ever got close to my girl again. But he definitely isn't the type of guy loyal to anything. Not to promises, not to threats, not even to his ex-girlfriend.

"He asked to meet me. I said no, but he wouldn't understand. He was waiting outside my place this morning, claiming he'd like to talk. I wanted to get away from him, but he grabbed my arm and..." her voice breaks.

I hold her for a few seconds as the sobs initiate again. Afterward, I get up and make a very important call. Returning, I am very pleased to meet a much-better-looking, without-any-tears woman sitting on the couch and scrolling through her phone.

Noticing me, she looks at me. I try to smile. "He'll be dead till midnight." Sitting next to her, I take her on my lap and kiss the dry tears off her cheeks.

And then I start undressing her, not because my dick is asking for it since one hour ago, but because she seems in the mood for it.

"I just want you to fuck me, Lewis." She says as I press my palm around her neck and spread wet kissing along her breasts. "Fuck me like you hate me."

I smile. "Baby, I could never hate you."

"Just do it for an hour," she moans against my ear. "Please."

I stop to look at her, laughing. "An hour?" I rise my eyebrows. "Love, you underestimate me."

She laughs too, and we're off to upstairs, where one of the mansion's bedrooms is located.

I want to make love to her, truth to be told. Passionate and delicate. But she asked for a rough fuck.

She knows I'm a man capable of doing both. So I proceeded to doing them.

[ltghosty]

If only you would have trusted me (Simon "Ghost" Riley ﾒ Female "Cobra" Sergeant)

A/N: MW 3 broke me, don't talk to me

Summary: Makarov blackmailed you into joining his army and Task Force 141 thinks you betrayed them without hesitation. Once Ghost and Soap find Milena and you, Ghost finally confronts you about letting him down.

Warnings: curse, angst, guilt, fight, betrayal,

Wordcount: 4.7k

”I thought I was someone whom you could trust because you can be sure as hell that I still trust you with my life. Whether you like it or not."

You knew this moment was coming once Laswell had let you know that Makarov escaped the gulag and was on the move.

You didn’t want it to happen but your job wasn’t famous for making guarantees. Especially with crazy terrorists who wouldn’t stop until the world fell to its knees in front of them.

And Makarov was just like that.

Ruthless, smart, cruel and unpredictable.

While running from location to location, you started to feel getting lost. There were too many dead ends while Makarov was playing with Task Force 141 as he’d wished.

Ghost noticed how much you’d changed since Makarov broke out and wasted no time in getting his hands dirty.

You’d heard stories of him before Price and Soap managed to capture him once 4 years ago which ended in agony and cost a lot of innocent lives. You’d dealt with all kinds of criminals who wanted to build their throne out of corpses but Makarov was by far the worst and most dangerous one.

 With each mission you’d went to with the others, the less your voice could be heard. You were silent and kept checking every corner while wondering how could you finally make a step forward.

There were times when you were seated with Ghost and his favorite sniper to watch the others’ back, and while laying on the ground for hours, the lieutenant tried to get you to talk but you weren’t too bulged.

You hadn’t noticed because you were too focused on your task but Ghost always kept an eye on you when you were in his sight. He’d seen this kind of dedication before, so he understood where your change of heart had come from but he didn’t want you to completely forget who you truly were before.

He’d hated to admit but he would have done anything to bring you back to the surface. It’s been too long since he had heard your laugh or seen your beautiful smile. Hell, he even started to miss those moments when you’d happily join Soap and push his buttons while making fun of Brits.

Ghost couldn’t stand your silence, he liked listening to your voice even while you were only making small chats with him through the coms.

What Ghost had never expected – or anyone else for that matter – was you suddenly disappearing without a word and hearing from a source that you’ve been seen on Makarov’s side.

At first, he was confused and kept denying it but when Price told him that it wasn’t some sort of plan for you to get involved with the Russians, Ghost felt like someone punched him in the chest.

You’d left willingly without a word, and the next thing he knew, you were working under the hands of the enemy.

He was overwhelmed with your betrayal, he was sad, furious, and desperate to find an explanation for your treachery.

What Ghost and the others didn’t know was that Makarov had his eye on you since he escaped from the gulag. Firmly, because you knew Milena from before, and she knew that you were an unstoppable sergeant.

Makarov wanted to break Task Force 141 from the inside before he would grab a gun to put a bullet into everyone’s head, so he ordered his men to do their research on you.

It didn’t take them too long to find your family, even though you tried your best over the years to make it seem like you didn’t have them. You’d never once talked to anyone about your sister and mother who always waited for you to go home, who were always worried about you whenever you departed and had been gone for months while fighting terrorists.

For the first time in your life you didn’t know what to do, you wanted to tell Price and the others that Makarov had captured your family and gave you no choice but the Russian’s intentions were crystal clear. If you’d told anyone about this, he’d kill your family and would blame it all on Task Force 141.

You even thought about telling Ghost that Makarov had found you and backed you in the corner but you knew if the lieutenant would have found out about any of this, he’d never let you go.

Ever since you joined Makarov, the guilt has been eating you from inside, especially whenever your friends’ name was thrown around as Makarov was planning his next move.

Makarov has been calling you ’Rynda’ ever since you gave yourself up to him which you absolutely despised. Since you were his only living connection to Task Force 141, he’d given you the task of always letting him know what the special forces’s next move might be.

”Like the bell ringing when danger is around the corner,” Makarov had said back then with a wicked smile on his lips. ”I don’t want you to disappoint me, Rynda.”

”I won’t.”

Your words might have caused satisfaction in the man but your tongue was burning with the forced promise you’d had to make to him. Your skin was crawling each time he touched you and his voice crept through your ears like venom.

You hated being Milena’s present. Makarov didn’t want any women on the battlefield but he admired your strength and skills, so he ordered you to always stick to Milena and watch her back. Without his financial support, he would have had some problems getting into this whole capture-or-kill scenario.

Milena always made a sound of her whines about how she hated that you were practically babysitting her. Don’t worry, I hate it too, you’d thought.

Whenever you were alone you missed the guys, missed Price being a father figure to you, missed Gaz making fun of your looks after a horribly executed plan, missed Soap teaching you Scottish, and missed Ghost for… for being himself and keeping you under his wing.

”I admire your dedication, really,” Milena called from the other side of the room.

”Do you?”

Milena glanced up from her papers and searched your face.

”Yes, I’m surprised you betrayed your people right away and did everything Vladimir ordered you to.”

”He didn’t give me much of a choice, did he?” you asked and crossed your arms. You hated that she was able to think that you betrayed your second family easily while in reality, it was wearing you down in every way possible.

You were sure you’d never be able to look into their eyes if you saw them again.

”He knows how to win people over.”

You cleared your throat and narrowed your eyes.

”Or to force them to do something that would benefit him.”

Milena was one delusional woman, you were sure of that. You hated how spineless she was and how easily she could get under your skin within seconds.

If Makarov wasn’t so intimidating then you would have already punched her whenever she said a bad word to you. You would have enjoyed it for sure.

Gunshots and shouting emerged from the other side of the building which made you tense right away.

”What the hell?” Milena asked as she stood up and walked to the wall where the security cameras were shown.

You took a few steps, examining the figures that appeared, and felt the color drain from your face.

You wished you would have mistook them for someone else but after serving with them for years, there was no way you wouldn’t recognize them.

It was Soap and Ghost.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, and your stomach turned when you saw Soap getting closer and closer to the door that stood behind you.

With trembling hands, you grabbed your gun and spun on your heel just when the Scots opened the door.

”Special forces, show your hands!”

Raising your guns at the same time, you faced your best friend whose eyes softened the second they found you.

”Cobra…”

It’s been so long since anyone called you that, you almost dropped your gun.

Then you forced yourself to remember your family whose life was on you and how you act now, so you tightened your grip on the cold metal.

”I’d advise you to turn around and leave, Soap.”

Soap lowered his gun while his face dropped in sadness. Your voice was cold and distant, something you’d never used toward him before. You’d only given this treatment to your enemies.

”That’s not going to happen, you know it.”

”I’ll shoot you,” you said, trying to hide your nervousness as he kept your stare.

”You won’t.”

Gritting your teeth, you took a step forward, keeping the gun at him as Milena looked at you in fury.

”What are you waiting for? Shoot him for fuck’s sake!”

No matter how hard you tried, your finger couldn’t touch the trigger. Your heart didn’t let that happen.

Memories flooded and invaded your mind as you looked at John MacTavish who was your favorite partner in crime. Moments of him making you laugh and calming you down after losing a battle made your hands shake in defeat.

You didn’t want to do any of this but you had no choice.

When Soap realized you were not going to shoot him, he let out a small sigh, grabbed one of the chairs, and pushed it forward, his eyes finding Milena.

”Sit.”

You didn’t want to admit but you missed the way Soap could talk coldly to those who were on the other side.

”Fuck you.” Milena spat in hatred.

Soap kept his gaze and gun firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

”Sit down, Milena.”

Milena gave you a deadly glare before dropping her hands and taking a seat. You couldn’t say a word, it seemed like your voice ceased to exist.

”Where is your boss?” Soap asked sharply.

”I don’t have a boss. No one tells me what to do.” Milena said and you almost scoffed. Only if her words were true.

Soap glared at her for a while before turning around when heavy footsteps broke the silence. You lowered your hands, sweat appearing on your skin as you noticed a familiar tall figure moving in the shadows.

Soap turned around when Ghost walked through the door with a laptop in his hand.

”She’s not talking.”

As Ghost’s familiar dark eyes met yours, he stopped walking and you felt your heart skip a beat. Just like every other time he’d looked at you, you felt exposed and small.

Ghost’s eyes never left you as you tried to catch your breath. His eyes held many emotions, such as surprise, melancholy, and distance.

You hated the way he was looking at you like you were someone else. Like you weren’t someone who was close to him like you weren’t the sergeant who was never afraid to be honest and open with him.

Before you could realize that there was nowhere to run from him, he blinked and walked over to the table.

”She’s about to,” he grunted and put the laptop down on the table, and walked to the other side of the room.

Not wanting to look into his eyes again, you focused on Soap who opened the white laptop and extended his hand to Milena who was sitting still like a rock.

”Give me your hand.”

”Why? Or else you’ll cut it off?” Milena asked.

”Your friend over there knows that it’s true when I say to you that it’s not my style,” Soap said glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. Then tilted his head in Ghost’s direction. ”He might.”

Milena seemed to lose her patience with each second that passed by.

”Why the mask?” she snapped.

You almost rolled your eyes at the question you seemed to hear a million times.

”To hide my face.” Ghost answered with cold eyes.

You were surprised he answered even though it was an obvious and useless response.

You felt Ghost’s eyes finding you again, making your skin burn as you dropped your gaze. You were intimidated by his presence and not because you were afraid of him but because you knew for sure that you hurt his feelings when you left.

You wished you weren’t here to live through this unwanted confrontation. A part of you was happy to see them but your heart was aching by the disappointed and hurtful looks you received from them.

”Cobra.” Ghost called after you as you turned your head away. His voice reached your bones immediately and you hated how much you missed your callsign falling off his lips.

”Don’t call me that,” you said dryly, turning back to him.

Ghost gave you a challenging look as he pushed himself away from the wall and closed the distance between you two. With each step he took, you felt your chest tighten with anticipation and guilt. You wanted to look somewhere else but he firmly held your gaze.

He always did and that hasn’t changed.

”How about we give these two birds a few minutes to find a way to cooperate with each other?” Ghost asked and you felt your eyes widen.

”I’m not leaving Milena.”

Ghost gave you a meaningful look and took the gun from your hand with such ease that wasn’t surprising to either of you.

”Yes, you are.”

Remembering that you weren’t supposed to leave Milena’s sight for even a second, you felt panic and annoyance wash over you.

”You can’t just order me around. Not anymore.” You said in a cold tone that made Ghost shift in his place.

Without saying a word, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you with him as he made his way to the other door that led to another empty room.

”Hey! Get your fucking hand off of me!” You shouted in frustration and tried to free yourself from his grasp but Ghost easily dragged you with him through the door and kicked it shut with his foot.

You let out a desperate groan as you grabbed his wrist, trying to pry it off of your arm which seemed tiny compared to his.

You bit into your lower lip as you tried your best to move his fingers but he wasn’t moving an inch.

”Cobra…” his voice was calmer and more thoughtful now that you were alone with him.

You didn’t look at him, only let out a defeated sigh and stopped fighting, your skin slightly aching.

”This hurts.”

Ghost glanced down at his hand still holding onto you and let go of you the second you’d admitted your physical pain. Hurting you was something he never intended to do.

Hissing, you brought your arm to your chest and touched it with your other hand, and turned away from him. You didn’t trust yourself when he was alone with you.

”What are you doing, Cobra?” Ghost asked from behind you and you closed your eyes. Hearing confusion and disappointment hiding in his voice made you feel guiltier than before.

”That’s none of your concern anymore, Ghost.” You replied still facing the wall.

Taking deep breaths you tried your best to collect your thoughts as you heard him walk closer to you, dropping your gun to the table standing next to you.

”It is.”

His voice circled around you like clouds darkening the sky before the storm.

”Why did you leave?”

You pressed your lips against each other and turned around. You got used to his menacing presence coming firstly from his height. You felt small and weak because you knew he could see right through you.

”People change, Lieutenant. You better get used to it.”

”People change that’s for sure. But don’t betray and stab others in the back just like that. A decision like this never comes from a single thought.”

You hated how much he tried to get into your mind, still trying to find answers to his questions that have probably been burning in him since the day you left.

”I refuse to believe that after everything that happened, you’d willingly just switch sides, I know you. And I know how much you despise traitors,” his eyes never left you as he was speaking.

You didn’t say a word, not when you were on the edge of breaking down.

”Talk to me, Cobra.” Ghost said, his voice quiet.

”I can’t,” you shook your head. ”Why don’t you just do your job and get out of here?”

”I’m not leaving until you say something to me.”

”There is nothing for me to say, especially to you.”

Ghost felt his chest tighten at your coldness. He would have never expected you to speak to him this way. Not after how long it took for you two to finally let your guard down around each other.

”Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

”I do, Ghost. Believe it or not, I’m not part of the special forces anymore, so either shoot me or get out of my face.”

”You really think I’d hurt you?” he asked, his voice low and sad.

”You eliminate targets and now I’m one too,” you crossed your arms, trying to look confident.

”I know why you’re pushing me,” he narrowed his eyes. ”And I know for sure that you didn’t betray us because you felt like you could. I know there is something behind all of this that you refuse to tell me.”

You didn’t answer and that was more than enough for him to confirm his theory about you.

”What happened, Cobra?”

”I left and now I’m one of Makarov’s people, that’s what happened!”

You were desperate to try to get him out of here because your heart was breaking with each word that was exchanged between you two.

”No, don’t even say that. I know who you are.”

”You don’t, Simon. Just get over it and let me go,” you snapped and his gaze dropped for a brief second. You didn’t even realize at first that you called him by his real name until you saw the change in his eyes.

It seemed like your words had made a final straw in Simon’s heart. You hated yourself for talking to him like that and you wished you could go back to them, to him, and forget about this nightmare you’d fallen into.

”I thought I was someone whom you could trust because you can be sure as hell that I still trust you with my life. Whether you like it or not."

His words made more impact on you than they should have. They meant the world to you and knowing that even after turning your back on him, he still trusted you and wanted you to go back.

”I trusted you.”

Trusted you. Past tense which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

”You didn’t if you could leave me like I was nothing to you.” Ghost confronted you with raw honesty, not even hiding the fact of how much your decision had pained him.

”It wasn’t easy,” you admitted, hugging your stomach and your eyes filling with unwanted tears. You hated if someone saw the vulnerable side of you, you hated being vulnerable but around Ghost, you knew he wouldn’t use your pain against you. Never.

Ghost stepped closer to you, making it impossible to look at anything else but him. When he heard your voice tremble and saw your eyes become glossy, he knew he meant something to you after all.

Lifting his hand, he put his index finger under your jaw and made you look at him. His eyes mirrored his emotions as he watched you slowly letting go of the invisible mask you’d hidden behind.

”You don’t need to keep anything from me, Cobra. Have I ever broken your trust and let you down?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as a lonely tear escaped and rolled down on your hot skin.

When you slowly shook your head, he dipped his to your level.

”Then tell me. Please.”

Swallowing your doubts, you took a shaky breath, his hand still on you.

”He’ll kill me.”

”I won’t let that happen,” Ghost promised it without a second thought.

The words were on the tip of your tongue, almost jumping down. You hated to keep secrets from anyone, especially from Simon who had proven himself worthy of your trust more than once.

”Cobra, I can’t help if you don’t let me,” he continued with sad eyes and wiped your face.

It surprised you how a tall giant like him who had a name for his ruthless methods and interrogation scenes, could act so soft and careful with you.

It was hard to believe that the hand that was confronting you and wiping away your tears had killed so many people before.

With your lower lip quivering, you felt your fear taking over you, making your knees shake. Ghost watched you with worried eyes as you let out a sob you couldn’t hold back anymore and jumped into his arms, hiding your face into his neck.

As you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, you felt the heat coming off of his body, his tenseness slowly fading away once he’d realized what you were doing.

Ghost embraced your hug, his big arms wrapping around you like a shield, silently promising to keep you safe. He felt your scent filling his nose and his heart slowing down as your bodies pressed against each other’s.

”He has my family, Simon. He’ll kill them if I don’t obey his orders,” you sobbed in pure panic, your small hands holding onto him.

Ghost exhaled and tightened his grip around you, his head dropping onto yours with ease.

”Shh… I’m here,” he scooted you as you let your tears fall onto his gear.

”I couldn’t tell anyone and he made me swear to leave you or else…”

Ghost didn’t say it was okay or that it would be all right. Because he wasn’t sure if he could keep his promise if he’d told you something you wanted to hear at the moment.

So, he just kept you in his arms and rubbed your back while his heart came to peace now that he knew the real reason why you left them.

”I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

”Hey, hey…” Ghost pulled you away slightly so that he could look into your eyes.

When you glanced up at him, his eyes didn’t make you feel anxious like a few minutes ago, they made you realize you weren’t alone and that he wasn’t blaming you for anything.

”Don’t be sorry, family comes first.” Ghost answered. ”You did what you have to, I understand.”

”But you’re also my family,” you whispered in a defeated tone and his eyes softened.

”It’s okay, Cobra. I’m not mad, I could never be mad at you,” he admitted and pulled you into his chest, his hand caressing your hair.

You sniffed and hid your face in his chest, wishing you could wake up from this nightmare.

But unfortunately, you were awake. You have been this whole time and there was no turning back from now.

”I wish you would have told me without running away,” he said quietly. ”I understand why you did it, I just wish you would have told me.”

”I wanted to,” you admitted, your voice small and vulnerable.

”Why didn’t you then?” he asked, still holding you against his chest.

You sighed and wiped your flushed face, your other hand still around his waist.

”I was afraid you wouldn’t have let me leave.”

”You’re fucking right I wouldn’t have let you do that,” he agreed immediately, causing you to giggle.

Ghost felt warmness fill his chest at your almost laugh, making it easier for him to breathe now that you were in his arms and let yourself smile.

He missed you, a lot.

”I trust you, Simon. You know, I do.”

He hummed as he let his fingertips dance on your skin a little.

”It was hard to believe otherwise when I woke up to you missing one day.”

The familiar feeling of guilt made your expression drop and your brows furrow. You really wished things would have been different.

You hated yourself for making Ghost feel like he didn’t mean anything to you. You hated yourself for making him almost lose his faith in you.

”I’d tell you that you’re coming back with us but something tells me you won’t.”

You stepped away from him, letting go of his torso with defeated eyes.

”He’ll kill them, I can’t go with you,” you said sadly. You’d never felt so lost and desperate before and Simon could see that in your eyes.

”So, what…” his voice trailed off. ”You’re just going to stay by his side and do whatever the fuck he wants you to?”

”It’s not like I want to work for him, Simon. But I have no choice.”

”We’ll figure something out,” he replied.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair in frustration.

”You can’t, you know it.”

Ghost shook his head. ”No, there has to be a way… We have to do something before he kills you.”

”I appreciate your concern but there’s nothing you can do for me,” you whispered in a hoarse voice.

Ghost stared at you while hundreds of thoughts had run through his mind, wondering if there was a way he could help you. Hoping he could say or do something that would make you feel better.

”I have to do something… I can’t lose you again, I won’t.”

His words made your heart almost jump out of your chest while he massaged the back of his neck. You felt physically weak at the plea of his voice while he was trying to find a solution.

But there was none.

Not when Makarov had his chains on you like on a dog.

”I’ll be fine, just go.”

Ghost looked at you with hesitation.

”I can’t, Cobra. What if I won’t see you again?”

Wiping your eyes, you took a shaky breath. Him trying to get you out of this just made the whole situation more unbearable.

”We knew what we were signing up for when we joined the special forces, Lt.”

Ghost felt his heart starting to ache in sadness as he took your defeated and exhausted sight in. You weren’t the woman who once made a race with him about getting more kills on a mission or not.

You were only a shadow of yourself and he hated to see you this way.

He would have done anything to be able to take you back with him to the base and never let you go.

It terrified him how lost he’d felt when you left the team, he could still remember how he’d stare at the ceiling of his room, wondering if he’d ever see you again.

”Don’t talk like that, Cobra.” Ghost scolded you. ”Now is not the time.”

”You know I might end up getting killed after all.”

”Don’t.” Ghost said in a stern voice, his body tensing at your words. ”Nobody is dying. Not on my watch and I’m going to keep my word.”

It made you feel better to know that Ghost didn’t hold anything against you. Your soul found peace now that he knew the why behind your decisions and betrayal. It killed you that you couldn’t go home with him and Soap.

Ghost stepped closer to you and waited for you to look into his dark eyes that led you directly to his soul.

”I’m going to get you out of this, Cobra. I promise. I’m not leaving anyone behind, especially you.”

His promise made you forget the danger that was around the corner and just for a brief second you were happy to let yourself believe what Ghost was saying.

”You better not to, lieutenant.”

Ghost huffed and touched the side of your face, his thumb softly caressing your skin. Closing your eyes, you leaned into his touch and forgot how to breathe for a moment.

Simon Riley was famous for a lot of things and keeping his promise was one of them. That was the only thing that helped you come to peace with the things you were forced to do in order to protect your family.

[3xen]

hihiii can I req a aamon x reader where's it's like arranged marriage au typa vibe?? both from different kingdoms n are very different but manage to yk bond n stuff 😖😖

asunder; aamon since the marriage ceremony, he's been unseen in his own home. you only feel its right—if you're the person to confront him.

n. i was hitting that poetry shit in this one omg. and please, good lord, i just wanna believe aamon is canonically british. please. i tried to capture ur req as best as i could!

c. arranged marriage au, unrequited love, ooc(?)

aamon deliberately meddled himself into his work and duties more often than he would have. he found consolation within his office—so he never left it. each day would be scheduled with meetings, inspections, and business matters. he immediately became weary of it. but he didn’t halt with his bearish intentions. 

it was the fourth week that you resided in his home. each week passed without his presence. it became most apparent that aamon was dodging your entire existence. 

a feeling of transgression and inhospitality poked at the back of his brain—a pot of poison stirring in his fleshy stomach. he was glued to his chair, stuck in a boundless hex. 

and you still hadn’t had a clue on what his intentions were. nonetheless, you tried to not make much out of it—marriage life was hectic and you decided his feelings couldn’t be misheard.

it was an overwhelming decision, even more, a forced decision by your kingdom. you never intended to settle for marriage so soon, given, prior to your engagement; you remained committed as a solitary princess. 

it was an unexplored aspect for the both of you. 

“aamon-“ you entered the unoccupied space, a cold breeze running through your feet. aamon’s usual lively office was completely empty. 

it took a few moments of reflection before you entered his office. hadn’t your curiosity got the best of you, you surely would have left as quick as you came. you flicked the lights on, bringing the interior of his room to light. 

it was plain—modernized to a suitable extent. wooden bookshelves outlined the outer walls of his office, besides them were file cabinets. he had one large desk in the center, file folders and miscellaneous papers sloppily scattered around the surface of the desk.

a large window faced from behind his desk, gaining a considerable source of light—allowing either the sun or moon to glimmer off the reflection of his desk. 

you anxiously approach the desk—your fingers running along the cluttered articles. as your eyes watched the tips of your fingers graze the tough surface, you caught a glimpse of an opened paged journal noted with ‘entry iii’. 

you moved any unwanted objects out of the way, your own consciousness growing more intrigued as moments passed by. you took the article in your hand, eyes darting to meet each word to match your mouth. 

entry iii

     her countenance deceives me, whereas her actions lighten me. if i were to write a report to her peers, i would think she was a bewitching maiden. her mere presence creates an altercation between herself and i. my perception of that woman is scarcely comparable to one of a few things. it has me bound at my will. i want to ultimately refuse her propositions of companionship. thenceforth, i will avoid that woman of great mystery. 

a visible frown was placed upon your lips. you had been good. throughout your time here, you have been nothing but good. what could aamon hold so much against you? what was his ulterior motive? 

a fit of rage threatened to surge from you—it can’t be. you shifted your eyes downward from the page and instead of falling to your feet—your pupils focused on a small fonted phrase. 

princess, i’m afraid i can no longer fool myself.

your breath hitched as the journal fell from your hands. “i see you’ve explored my study.” aamon cocked his head to the side—almost in disbelief. he entered the room with a heavy presence and it went completely unnoticed by you. 

“aamon.” your entire body felt numb as you stood like a deer in headlights, unable to move forward from your spot. 

aamon chuckled in amusement—he seemed the least offended with the intrusion. it didn’t take long until your body finally found its motion and you discreetly walked away from his desk. 

the prospect of it all felt impudent—to his letter of criticism, and lastly; his judgment of you. you received his disregard as something that would soon pass. or maybe, it was a plain misconception to you. 

“have you read my letter?” he inquired. 

“yes.” 

he nodded in acknowledgement as he moved to sit comfortably into the chair behind his desk. “it’s exactly what it says,” 

your eyebrows dug into your forehead. he spoke calmly, with a steady expression. “excuse me?” 

“the letter.” i blink in disbelief. 

“you intrigue me, princess.” the glint in his eyes meant more than what he said. his commendation of sanction captured you in his essence. 

once he played your game—maybe you would play his.

© 3xen

[streets-in-paradise]

Hope - Clay Miller x Reader

Friday 13th (2009) Oneshot

Warnings: Some cringy dialogue ( let's face it,the group are all cringy stereotypes lol). Allusions to Jason's story and some grim warnings regarding him. I'm also expanding the new rule introduced in the 2009 film, where sense of familiarity with his past not only distracted him but also made him spare a life for a while.

Summary: You are the only person who has given Clay any hope on the desperate search for his sister. Unlike most of the locals he had approached, some mysterious reason keeps you convinced that she could still be alive and on this determination you join forces with him.

Nobody else seems to mind about it and when the blatant disrespect from a tourist really pisses you off, you stand up for Clay giving him a frightening show exposing why he should care.

Tags: @drum-bot-brian

It was weird for Clay to find a self presented volunteer when the entire community was ignoring him, but when you approached him with the missing poster in hand offering your help he felt slightly relieved. At least he wasn’t completely alone and although you were a bit odd, you had a strong will to support him. Looking at Whitney’s picture, you simply stated that she looked like a sweet girl and that could possibly mean she could still be around. When asked about it, you acted as if some intuition based on practical knowledge would be telling you that. You wouldn’t tell him why, but you were convinced that she was still to be found. 

Of course, it was not going to be easy and the shitty attitudes you would find in the way were unnerving. The handsome, soft tempered boy you were following had the patience of a saint, but you wouldn’t stand it. The tone deaf blond guy at the gas station was the moment when you knew you had enough. 

After a very brief argument Clay was just going to leave, but you had other plans.  

“ He will wreck you.” You casually told the stranger in a sinister tone. “ Mock us while you still can, blondie. I believe his sister has a chance ... You? Not so much."

Everyone was weirded, but he thought you were just looking for a fight. 

“ Yeah, I don’t think so.” Was his self satisfying reply. “ You, him and who else?” 

It made you chuckle and you struggled for it not to turn into a full loud cackle.  

“ You aren’t from here, aren’t you? " You followed, giving a few steps closer to him with a weirdly intimidating demeanor. “ People don’t get to be jerks here and walk out harmless, the forest has eyes and its guardian loathes people like you the most..”

The asshole clearly didn't get to fully comprehend the meaning of your words. Still, you managed to creep him and his girlfriend, what was enough vengeance for you. The most inmediate reaction you obtained for Clay was a bit of hard to hide laughing, probably thinking that you were just messing with the guy, but he did capture some underneath intentionality in your strange warning.

He trully thought it was a joke, untill he later referenced it again in a lighter note and your face let him know it wasn't a funny little scheme he should feel thankfull for.

" You don't have to thank me, it's all real. " You cutted him off. " Weird things happen arround here, the kind that nobody would believe. People go missing to never be found and we pretend is not our problem … I need to help you because i really like you and you HAVE to get out from here as soon as possible. "

Your hand was shaking and he held it as as a reassuring gesture before inviting you to continue.

" If you know anything that could make this easier, please share it. "

Your soft look adquired a glimpse of skepticism.

" It doesn't matter. Even if i try to explain you, it would be impossible to make you understand. One does not believe it untill you see it and very few survive to tell the tale. "

He smiled and you couldn't help to internally melt to the softness in his expression.

" I promise i will believe you. Or at least I will do my best, anything that may help me understand would be amazing ríght now. "

The indirectly mocking tone in the last part made you smile back, then you swallowed hard ríght before starting your tale.

" To many persons he can mean different things, but I see him as a guardian of the forest. Not necesarily of the enviromental care type, but we know he hunts down people for doing stupid shit. It's a sort of local legend: a bullied kid who died back in the old summer camp and now remains as an undead watcher of the area. Legend says that once triggered he can't be stopped, but i believe different and that's why i feel your sister could be alive. "

He wasn't getting it, but kept himself loyal to the promise and didn't question you. His guess was in myth and reality mixing up to end up covering the activity of a serial killer whose victims were attributed to the legend by the locals.

One way or another, it wasn't the hopefull take he once expected.

" What made you think that? Besides from an obvious bias coming from your interest in me."

You felt a bit embarrased, but it didn't ruined your disposition to continue.

" I believe he is capable of sparing a life only when coming across things he finds familar. I saw it happening with my own two eyes. "

It wasn't easy, but you had to tell him the truth.

" Back in highschool I wanted so badly to belong, to feel how was like to be a part of something. I was hanging out with people who just wanted to make fun of me, fooling myself into believing someday i could be friends. "

You began to cry, pausing for an instant untill the sobbing would be slow enough to allow you finish.

" … They are gone and i'm still here. Common sense would be thinking i just hid myself well, i fooled him. I didn't, i can't help thinking he just pretended not to spot me. The pathetic, lonely, bullied looser must have have hitted close to home. "

You hugged him out of sudden and he didn't protest about it. Of all the weird things you said, he only understood you were admitting to be the only survivor of a massacre.

" Your sister seems like a lovely girl. If i'm still breathing, you can count there is hope for her. "

He had no words that could possibly express any processing of what you just told him, but trully appreciated the deep comfort of your embrace.

[mommyymunson]

Enemies with benefits

Warnings:: 18+, minors stay away or I’ll call your parents, f oral receiving, daddy/sir kink, first time writing smut

The long stripe of muscle along the quivering flesh that oozed ecstacy was pure filth. This was simply a game of give and take. Both parties receive endless amounts of pleasure in the long hours of the night; and once the sun rotates back, their hatred for each other comes back into play. Even calling you both 'friends with benefits' was a ginormous stretch. Enemies with benefits is more like it. He was the town freak and you were the good girl. Never did drugs, only had sips of alcohol that your parents gave you, and always stayed away from Eddie Munson. 

"Screaming on my tongue huh…Your windows open, your whole neighborhood is gonna hear you be such a dirty slut for me," his voice cooed mockingly as his tongue continued its delicious assault on your clit. You could feel him smirk against your skin, "Scream louder." 

The moment his demand rang though your ears, his lips puckered and he feverishly sucked your clit with immense force. He didn't even need to bark his orders at you because the pleasure that warmed your entire body made your back arch to the point it cracked. The scream that ripped through your vocal cords cracked under the sudden volume, your neighbors could definitely hear it; and you'd be lucky if the cops weren't called. 

"Oh yeah? Feels that good huh?" 

You were too blissed out to even register his teasing, this was already your third orgasm and it didn't seem like he was letting up anytime soon. Raising a shaky hand, you placed it on top of Eddie's wild curls and started brushing through them, releasing any knots that started to build up. 

"Can I have a turn now?" 

His head shot up at your words, the lower half of his face soaked and practically dripping from a mixture of sweat, spit and your arousal. He cocked an eyebrow and maintained eye contact as his mouth continued with his small, kitten licks. 

"You wanna suck my cock that badly, whore?" 

He wanted the validation, he wanted to hear you say those words and then he'd know for absolute sure that you were completely wrapped around his finger. Still, you only weakly nodded your head in response, trying to still recover from his hour long gratification. He tsked under his breath but it was still loud enough for you to hear it. His mouth finally left the warmth of your dripping pussy and started crawling up your naked body. Leaving dark, purple hickeys on any skin he can manage along the way, he abruptly stopped at your tits; presented nicely for him to take whenever he desired. 

"You know quite well that that isn't the answer I want, sweetheart." 

His teeth suddenly grazed your left nipple, it's bud hardened and buzzing for any attention. 

"Now say it, be a good girl for Daddy." 

His voice rasped as his lips captured the skin around your breast and bit, hard. You moaned out in delight and shock, the pain too irresistible to shove away. But Eddie was growing impatient, so the longer you took to answer, the more intense he'd suck and the deeper he'd bite. 

"Please, sir...let me suck your fat cock, I'll make you feel so good you'll never want to leave this room..." 

With your best pleading eyes you could manage, you started palming at his erection through the confinement of his jeans. The skin that was wrapped around his wet tongue popped out of his mouth. He rose, using the palms of his large hands as support and just stared down at you. This was a personal favorite angle of him, in your eyes he looked like God; deciding whether or not to show you mercy. The thrill of it sent more of your wetness pooling down your thighs onto the bed below. His cockiness and confidence was something that made you freely offer yourself to him in anyway he wanted. 

His eyes glinted in the moonlight as his signature smirk enveloped his lips. Licking his lips, he kneeled before you; grabbing his cock through his boxers and played with himself for just a moment. The action made you drool but he spoke too soon before your mind could wander.

"Why didn't you just ask, silly?"

[juminsswife]

my thoughts on Netflix's ATLA live action

As an adult who watched this show growing up and was there for the countdown to the comet (iykyk!!) I have thoughts!

Best: Zuko. angsty, teenage boy depression, father issues, determined to a self-destructive degree. The actor is great at capturing all these facets of Zuko's conflicting, complex character. Really great with the choreography/martial arts too. Its not easy to pull off Zuko's mostly shaven but with a ponytail haircut, but this actor manages it. And yes, the opening scene with him seeing the beam of light from the iceberg and saying, "Finally." did give me some chills. Honestly the actor just captures Zuko really well. Great casting.

Worst: Katara. has the personality of an elegant yet unassuming well watered house plant. Its more because of the writing than the actress… she's doing her best with this depressing egg whites version of Katara she's had thrusted upon her. It's not going to be convincing when Toph comes along next season and calls her sugar queen.

Aang: never has any fun. spends every episode staring into the distance being sorrowful and melancholic. *teardrop rolls down cheek* he is a depressed 40 year old in the body of a 12 year old. He has no fun side to him anymore- an important side for a 12 year old kid to have! Also spends the entirety of season one (you know, titled "water"!) and doesn't learn a lick of waterbending, not even from Katara, who spends a lot of it learning from the waterbending scroll!! Why??? However the actor is doing a great job and I think he captures Aang's essence really well. He is young and I think next season he will improve a lot.

Sokka: I almost forgot to write thoughts down for him, which I think says more than anything else. He's essentially been boiled down to the same old overprotective big brother, but now he comes complete with daddy issues. It's a little hilarious that Katara's worst memory is watching her mom get burned alive by a firebender soldier while Sokka's is hearing his dad say he's disappointed with him. Kind of ruins the moment tbh. They really took all the fun aspects of the main Gaang and dulled them down completely, its sad. At least he's cute though- and imo, the chemistry with Suki's actress was there.

The previous avatars: every single one meets Aang just to berate & yell at him and tell him he shouldn't have friends and where has he been for the past 100 years without giving him a second to speak. What?? Sadly it seems any dignity, grace, or wisdom the previous avatars had in the original, has been completely wiped out in this live action. Also, this idea of them telling Aang about things that are going to happen makes no sense. Did no previous avatar tell Roku his friend was going to betray him, let him die on the island, and start a 100 year long war? Also the idea of Aang being able to communicate ONLY if he's in one of their temples is stupid. What is the point of the avatar state, then? Will Roku be able to teach him anything at all?

Princess Yue: yes I wrote an entire paragraph about her lol. She is one of my favorite minor characters. I think they wanted her to look so accurate to her original counterpart that she just looks too much like a cosplayer, with such a stiff and lifeless looking wig. This is the one and only time I will concede I prefer M. Night's version of Yue as far as costuming goes, though both funnily enough forget her eyebrows shouldn't be dark. The actress was fine. But this version of Yue is quite a different person from og Yue, I can't really compare. Plus, it feels like we see her for a good 10 minutes before she dies for the moon spirit. I couldn't buy into her and Sokka having feelings for each other because it felt like they knew each other for a good 2 hours at most. Ideally, I think these two versions kind of fused together would be perfect.

Azula/Mai/Ty Lee: Grouping them together because. Azula is the most unconvincing out of the characters for me. I don't buy that this girl is supposed to be the princess Azula for a second. I'm neither intrigued nor intimidated, and that's pretty bad as Azula was one of my top favorite characters from the original. The costume is fine, the wig feels cheap, her dialogue is horrendous, the actress can't convince me. Azula isn't smart or cunning, sharp, or collected, and her "working with Zhao" just made her look dumb when the entire plan flopped. She is a whiny, petulant little girl stamping her feet in every other scene. It's not for me. Also, the way her relationship with Ozai is depicted here makes Ozai look like a loser, too. It's like they want us to not be afraid of either of them.

As for Mai and Ty Lee. Ty Lee is fine. She looks okay, the actress is fine for how little we see her. On Mai, the wig is just so bad I don't get what happened. It's like they're struggling on the line of being realistic with the styling, or leaning completely in cartoon-character-came-to-life. I don't think the actress for Mai here was a good choice.

Dialogue: the worst part of this show. When they're not completely quoting word for word from the original, it's.. just bad. Everything is always exposition and thats not good. The few moments that aren't are just... idk.

CGI: not bad. I was expecting worse. Fire, earth, and air all look great. Water feels a little slow, mostly when its just water and not ice but that can be improved I assume. Koh was pretty cool, as was Wan Shi Tong.

Settings: Beautiful!! Omashu looked great. South and North water tribes looked great. Ozai's throne room looked incredible and I was annoyed every time we see it, he is just standing around and not sitting on his throne. It just reminded me how amazing the buildup to Ozai and Azula's reveals were in og season 1.

Costume: Its either a hit or a miss. There's strangley not much in between. Aang, Katara, Sokka, Zuko, Iroh, June, Ozai, Jet, Suki, the Kyoshi warriors, all look pretty great. Then you have characters like Azula, Mai, or Yue, who just look like half decent cosplayers. It kind of takes you out of the moment when it looks like the person is a cartoon character, rather than just a normal person. For example, compare how Katara looks compared to Azula.

Music: of course it was fantastic. A lot of it (I think most) was from the original show, which has one of the greatest soundtracks an animated show has ever had imo.

Final thoughts: Ultimately, it was kind of what I was expecting. You can't condense 20+ episodes worth of development into 8 and expect it all to flow perfectly. However, there are also a lot of changes that really don't make sense to me. I am very curious to know how on earth they will do seasons 2 and 3, as season 1 is the slowest in pace compared to the next two seasons. The original's finale was split into four episodes! Unless they add more episodes for next season, it's going to be a big jumbled mess of lore being shoved into our faces. I am also concerned about Toph. The Gaang so far has been stripped of their fun/unique personality traits. Is Toph going to be the same?

[a-vampire-culturelover]

Rotten Eggs - A Sonic What-If Fanfic

Chapter 2

After taking up Eggman’s deal, Miles found his life had improved. He was given countless things to tinker with and help modify, the Doctor’s robots now deadlier than ever in the best of ways, and most of all he was given somewhere far better to live than the worn down Workshop that was already on the brink of collapsing if left unchecked for long enough.

Not only this, but as promised Flutter was given a way to overcome their possible death and sickness through a Badnik; a Buzz Bomber Miles had modified to allow Flutter to be more than just a living battery. Despite that being an odd thing, Robotnik argued that it was much more renewable than any oil or electricity, and that the animals inside were left unharmed, something technically true, although most badniks that weren’t Flutter were obedient without free will.

Despite the Doctor’s nefarious ways, Miles basked in comfort and acceptance, as the two made plans to seize Westside Island not just to conquer; but to find a power source known as the Chaos Emeralds, something Robotnik once saught to obtain.. but obviously could not due to a certain rotten little hedgehog. How he hated him!

It was two weeks after Miles had been taken in and treated for his injured tails, and on the day of the attack on Fox Village, Robotnik presented him with a gift;

A robotic backpack that attached to it were two long, metal arms with sharp claws, with a built-in feature that allowed its user to fly with them as well like a chopper. This brought Miles to tears from the thoughtfulness of it, as he had only know Robotnik for less than a whole month or year, yet this human was given him something that he never would have dreamed he’d have again after his Bullies attacked him..

Fox Village stood no chance against Miles, or “Tails” as he had begun dubbing himself due to his new enhancements, and his army of Badniks which included Flutter. If they had just listened to him and taken his ideas into consideration, maybe they would be technologically strong enough to fight back, but were met with Wooden Jungle Zone being almost near burnt, and several of its people being captured, few managing to escape and run off towards the coasts of Emerald Hill Zone. Tails had cornered his three bullies at his old workshop, the only part of the Village not completely burnt or currently burning yet. ‘How ironic’ Tails thought, the place that they resented and went to for the sole purpose of hating him was now where they decided to run and hide? How pathetic.

“P-please Miles! Show mercy!” One bully stuttered.

“Y-yeah! We never even meant to take your tails!” The other muttered.

The third one was too shocked and terrified of the turned tables to even speak, something Tails relished in.

It would be fun taken them back to the Death Egg to be roboticized like Robotnik had explained to him. Now they’d listen to him and finally respect him after all these years. At that moment, just as he loaded them up with others captured, a strange blue blur crashed into the Storage Pods keeping others hostage, setting free captured villagers. Tails' rage boiled over, having a hunch that this blue blur was none other than- "Sonic is here to rescue us!" A mother that lived in the village squealed, as those who broke free from the Storage Pod cheered Sonic on. "So Egghead's back to his old schemes, huh? You'd think he'd give it up after I kicked his butt last time." Sonic quipped at the sight of Wooden Jungle Zone burning down, hoping it would be able to recover after this whole ordeal blew over. He then realized the angry, young fox above him standing twice as high as him with his Big Arms-Pack, a sneer on their face. "You must be the Rotten hedgehog he told me about; and it's Dr Robotnik you stupid Needlemouse!" Tails tried his best at quipping back at Sonic, hoping he seemed menacing enough to intimidate him. All it did however was make Sonic chuckle, and then ask Tails a question: "Man, how much did Eggman pay to get his own sidekick? man I should really get my own..." Sonic trailed off, before Tails used his Big-Arms to thrash sonic to the ground, wiping the smirk off his blue little face. That'll show him.. "Ok, I can clearly see you aren't in the mood for jokes. You wanna fight, little guy? Fine, we'll fight." Sonic muttered to the Fox, taking note of how young he was and how..angry he looked. If Eggman was attacking this village and capturing it's people, why did one of its own side with him??

After the following battle, both seemed to be a little tired. Sonic was doing his best to keep up with Tails' Big-Arms Pack and it's attack speed that matched his own, yet Tails' Pack was almost out of juice at this point. He can't give up, not when the Doctor would give him so much praise for being able to capture his greatest enemy. "Look kid, you seem like you're a nice guy when you're not trying to bash my skull in with metal like you did twenty seconds ago, but don't trust Eggman. He's worse than you think." Sonic warned Tails, knowing the dangers of Eggman before. For Chaos' sake, he tried using time traveling rocks to take over an entire planet! If that isn't nuts, then Sonic didn't know what was. "Shut up, SHUT UP!" Tails yowled at Sonic with all his might, his Pack nearing it's last percent of power. Knowing this was a battle he couldn't win, he hit an emergency button that skyrocketed him out from the cooling Wooden Jungle Zone, now left to recover and repair from the Wildfire caused by Robotnik's forces. At least Tails managed to get his stupid bullies on board the Death Egg for robotization... serves them right. He felt a little nervous to face Robotnik again, with fear that his first failure would leave him kicked out and his Big-Arms Pack confiscated for his insolence. Expecting Anger, he was suprised that Robotnik stayed calm and collected. He knew from the Doctor's foaming rants over Sonic that he despised him with all his heart, yet he understood completely why Tails had failed to defeat him. "It may take me years if i'm lucky to capture that little blue pincushion! You were lucky to even have knocked him down at all." Robotnik reassured, overseeing the placement and production of Badniks all over Westside Island, and even hoping to reclaim Metropolis Zone after losing it in a short battle with Sonic before he had the idea of taking over Little Planet. Tails was relieved at this sudden calmness, knowing that from Robotnik's own fuming failures to Sonic that it wasn't as easy as catching Flickies and Pickies in a net. He had been making sure on the side that Flutter was not sent out to battle Sonic anytime soon, fearing that he may lose them again or that they'd get lost if broken out of their robot shell. As much as he had been waiting for his Bullies to finally kneel to him, he'd found the process of roboticization to be a little sickening to his stomach, even though he had no qualms with Robotnik over it. After all, he'd likely be overseeing them and dispatching them to guard whatever Zone Eggman took as his own as many inhabitants of the Island scrambled to evacuate or hide.

He thought for a moment about Sonic, how he hated that Hedgehog. Or at least Robotnik did, he thought the blue rat was annoying but somewhat fun, almost like a Rival. He did mention about wanting a sidekick.. but a Rival he'd have to make due with, that meddlesome hedgehog!

[weltraum-vaquero]

Just finished my rereading of Fuze & friction and came to tell you how fucking amazingly written it is, youre a very talented writer and these fics keep me alive till season 2. I love how you capture viktor as a character IMMACULATELY, as a reader it simply feels like you understand him. Nothing ever feels ooc for him n i die for that in fanfics. Convergence was what actually got me into Viktor x reader, its the first fic i found and gave a shot and i binged it all in one night. Also skimmed thru ur jayce fics and while i am not a simp i am a jayce apologist (you characterize him wonderfully btw) and will defend him at a moments notice. Last thing i wanted to mention is that i love ur portrayal of slav viktor, i wish i saw it more often but i cant really write it myself either as i am not slavic, but imglad to see the professionals have it covered. Ur books/fics are the gods gift to this earth

I am honestly so thrilled that you liked my writing enough to read stuff about a character you weren’t even interested in romantically. And it makes me so happy to hear that even after it’s been such a long time since I posted fics like convergence and f&f, they’re still getting so much love.

I feel pretty bad about never getting to finish those fics, but people like you, who find such enjoyment in them as they are anyway, make it feel like writing them was worth it, even if I never managed to complete them. Thank you for that!

Ps: if you like slav viktor, why not give portraying him a go? Representation can come from many places, not just the group themselves. I’d also be very happy to help out to the best of my abilities, and I’m always open to having a little chat, anon! If you ever want to give it a go, I’d love to see where it takes you.

[yubinism]

effie, im so sorry for not reblogging this earlier. i just finished my finals and i couldn't arrange the time to read this beautiful piece of art. i just finished reading too crowded, and i had to sit with it for a while before i could even start to write you because, honestly, i’m kind of speechless. you’ve done something so special with this, and i’m struggling to find the right words to express just how much it resonated with me. as an avid reader, i’ve come across so many stories, but yours always find a way to hit differently, to make me feel in a way that other stories don’t.

there’s this quiet, almost understated power in how you explore the themes of love, family, and the passage of time. the way you dive into the idea of change—how people grow, how relationships evolve, and how we’re forced to reconcile the people we used to be with who we are now—really struck me. it’s such a universal theme, but you’ve made it so deeply personal. i think that’s what you do best: you take something that could be familiar and make it feel completely unique, like we’re experiencing it for the first time through your characters.

the undertones of the story are so layered. there's this tension between the joy of love and the ache of separation—whether it’s distance between two people, or the realization that things will never quite be the same. it’s almost bittersweet in its portrayal of intimacy; you show us the warmth and the closeness that comes with love, but you also remind us of the quiet sadness that can accompany it, too. that contrast is what makes it so real. relationships are rarely just one thing, and i think you’ve captured that perfectly. there’s no sugarcoating here, but there’s still so much beauty in the messiness of it all.

and lee know- he’s written so thoughtfully. the way you show his internal struggle, his hesitations, his silent longing—it feels like you’ve really gotten to the core of him. there’s a rawness to how he deals with the complexities of his emotions and his relationships, and i think that speaks to how you approach the theme of self-discovery. it’s not just about romantic love, it’s about understanding who you are and who you’re becoming, and you’ve done such a beautiful job of weaving that into the narrative.

i also love how you portrayed the idea of home and belonging. there’s this underlying question of what it means to be “home,” and i think you’ve explored it with such depth. is home a person, a place, or is it something we carry within us? it’s subtle, but it’s there, and it left me thinking long after i finished reading.

your writing, as always, feels like a conversation—one that’s personal and honest and real. you manage to capture these fleeting, intimate moments that feel so relatable, yet they’re never cliché. you really let the characters breathe, and because of that, they come to life in a way that feels almost tangible. i don’t know how you do it, but you’ve created something that’s both tender and thought-provoking, with an emotional weight that’s hard to shake off.

your writing is such a gift to me and im so grateful that you use your talent of writing to deliver such beautiful and thoughtful pieces. thank you for writing this, my babi 🤍

TOO CROWDED.

Lee Know x reader. (s,f)

Chapters: Wrong crowd / In the crowd / Crowded

Synopsis: Years of marriage haven’t fully prepared Minho for the arrival of a new family member or the changes that come with his growing family. As he navigates these new challenges, he realizes that love and family are constantly evolving in ways he never expected. (19,3k words)

Author's note: To the Crowd enthusiasts, thank you for patiently waiting & hope you enjoy this one too ♡

It’s Saturday, yet Minho wakes up early as usual, his internal clock refusing to let him sleep past 5:30 a.m.

The first thing he does is shift closer to your side of the bed, slipping his arm around you and gently pulling you into his embrace. His lips press a soft kiss to your cheek, careful not to wake you. You deserve more sleep. For a moment, he enjoys the warmth of your body against his, spooning you, before placing another kiss on your bare shoulder and quietly slipping out of bed.

Next, he pads across the hall to your daughter’s room, slowly pushing the door open. Peeking inside, he smiles when he sees Byeol still fast asleep, clutching her blanket tightly. The sight of her peaceful face always fills him with a deep sense of contentment—knowing she feels safe and loved. He brushes a gentle hand over her cheek, then quietly leaves, letting her sleep a little longer.

Minho heads downstairs to the kitchen. As the coffee brews, he washes up, brushes his teeth, and makes his way to the rooftop to water the potted plants. Returning to the kitchen, he pours himself a cup of coffee and settles at the dining table, handling bills and a few business emails.

By 7:00 a.m., he’s pulling ingredients from the fridge to prepare breakfast, not forgetting to pack a lunchbox for Byeol. Halfway through stirring pancake batter, he catches sight of you wandering into the kitchen, your hair a tousled mess and a sleepy smile on your lips.

"Morning," you mumble, slipping your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your face against his back. You cling to him for a while as he works over the stove, only moving to kiss his cheek before grabbing his mug and refilling it with more coffee for yourself.

Minho glances at the clock, then at you. "Enjoying your coffee?"

"Mmhmm," you murmur, savoring the warm drink.

"Can you go wake up our daughter?" he asks, focused on flipping a pancake.

"I thought we're cool parents," You groan playfully, holding your mug. "It’s Saturday. Let her sleep!"

"Today’s the school trip." He reminds you.

"Oh, shit!" you grumble, setting down your coffee. You tie your robe and shoot him a quick grin. "Wish me luck!"

Minho smiles as you head to Byeol’s room, knowing it won’t be hard to wake her. She’s been talking about the trip all week, and sure enough, it takes you less than five minutes to have her running to the kitchen for breakfast.

"Here’s your delinquent daughter, sir," you joke, pulling out a chair for her.

Minho places the last pancake on the growing stack. He brings the plate over to the table, feigning seriousness as he addresses Byeol. "Young lady, you’re sentenced to live with us until you're of age and eat all these pancakes without any maple syrup or strawberries."

Byeol doesn’t even blink at her father’s odd sense of humor. She knows exactly what it means: they’re out of her favorite toppings.

"How about bananas?" she asks innocently.

"We’re out of bananas!" you call from behind the counter, pouring yourself more coffee.

Minho pats his daughter’s shoulder. "Tough luck."

But you come to the rescue, placing a bowl of blueberries and whipped cream next to her plate. "We’ve got these, though."

Byeol beams, picking up her fork. "Thanks, Mommy."

It’s never a competition between you two when it comes to earning Byeol’s affection, but with work keeping you busy most of the time, Minho likes creating little moments where she can bond with you. It’s just another way he shows how much he loves his two girls.

Minho points his spatula at you, narrowing his eyes. "I’ll let you have this win."

You make a face at him, and he turns away to hide his laughter.

The morning quickly becomes hectic as you both scramble to get Byeol ready for her school trip. Minho helps her pack while you diligently apply sunscreen to her.

"We’re not going to the beach. Why do I need sunblock?" Byeol complains.

"Because I don’t want you coming home looking like a blob of slime," you reply without missing a beat, finishing her legs. "Do you want to be a blob of slime?"

"No," she mutters while giggling.

"Good!" You adjust her socks and tighten her shoelaces, then let her go.

Dropping Byeol off at school is usually stressful—other moms often stare at him—but with you by his side, he feels more relaxed.

The parking lot is packed as parents say goodbye to their kids. Minho carries Byeol’s backpack while you walk hand in hand with her. When it’s time for the trip, you kneel down to Byeol’s level, fussing over her ponytail and clothes, unable to help yourself.

"Be good, okay?" you say softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Listen to Miss Sara, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask."

"Okay, Mommy," Byeol nods.

You pull her into a hug, holding on like you’re sending her off to war rather than a school trip.

"Don’t forget to drink water, eat your lunch, and—"

"I’ll be okay, Mommy," Byeol assures you with a smile.

You sigh, reluctantly letting her go. "And have fun!"

Minho chuckles quietly at how grown-up your six-year-old is acting. He bends down, hugging her and planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

"We’ll pick you up later," he reminds her.

"Yes, Daddy."

After a quick wave, Byeol boards the bus. You both stand watching until the bus pulls away, your hand slipping into Minho’s as you turn to head back to the car.

"It’s a beautiful day," you sigh contentedly, gazing up at the sky. "And we have the whole afternoon to ourselves."

He grins, watching how relaxed you suddenly look. "What do you want to do?"

You swing his hand playfully, thinking. "How about we grab some take-out and have a picnic?"

"Sounds good," Minho says, unlocking the car.

"We can get your favorite pudding for dessert," you add, already planning the afternoon.

As you buckle your seatbelt, you turn to him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Or…"

"Or what?"

You place your hand on his knee and grin. "Or we stay home and make babies?"

Minho raises an eyebrow at the sudden suggestion, amused but not surprised. He doesn’t mind the idea at all, but with how nice the weather is, staying inside seems like a waste.

You squeeze his knee gently. "So? What’s it going to be?"

Minho glances between you and the road ahead, the decision already made. He pulls the car onto the street, heading in the direction of home.

-

Everyone in the parlor has asked for the weekend off to enjoy the summer, so Minho granted it, leaving the parlor downstairs closed until Tuesday.

This also means you and Minho have the whole building to yourselves and you obviously going to make the most of this rare moment. You push him onto the sofa, straddling him without hesitation, your mouth crashing against his. Your body moves on its own, hands frantically unbuttoning his shirt while your hips grind against his crotch. Your lips continuously press against his, breath heavy and hungry.

He holds you close, one hand resting on the small of your back while the other tangles in your hair, fisting it as he tilts your head to the side, giving him access to your neck.

“Honey, not a hickey, please?” you mutter breathlessly as his teeth graze your skin.

He drags his lips up to your ear, playfully biting at it. “Why not? You look good with one,” he teases, his words punctuated by a wet kiss on your jaw.

“We still have to pick up your daughter later,” you remind him, not wanting to give the other parents something to gossip about.

“Afraid they’ll be jealous of you?” he murmurs.

“You think you’re that hot, huh?”

His hand slips beneath your dress, fingers teasing your clothed sex, tracing over your clit. The pressure makes you gasp as he rubs slow, deliberate circles. His smirk is devilish, eyes dark with lust.

“I know I am,” he says confidently.

You can’t deny the heat pooling inside you as his fingers work their magic. “Honey…” you whine, though you don’t truly mind.

Suddenly, he shifts, gently lifting you off his lap and laying you down on the sofa. His shirt falls to the floor, exposing his toned chest. With a heated gaze, he pushes the hem of your dress up, tugging at the waistband of your underwear. He pulls it down slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving yours. He parts your legs with his hands, lowering himself between your thighs without a word. His mouth trails wet kisses down the inside of your thigh before he dives in, pressing his mouth to your wetness.

A whimper escapes your lips as his tongue expertly teases you. You can’t help but close your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation as he takes his time savoring every inch of you. Occasionally, you glance down to see his head buried between your legs, his tattooed arms wrapped around your thighs. The sight alone sends waves of arousal through you.

“Honey, oh…” you moan as he sucks on your clit, your body trembling with need.

Minho lifts his head, his mouth glistening with your essence. He flicks his tongue against your sensitive clit, his dark eyes watching your every reaction.

“Oh, God…” you moan loudly, unafraid, knowing you’re alone in the house.

His lips close around your clit once more, sucking gently as he slides two fingers inside you. The dual sensations have you gasping, eyes rolling back as your grip on the sofa tightens.

“Oh, honey… that feels so good,” you mutter breathlessly, barely able to think as pleasure overwhelms you.

Your noises only encourage him, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony, pushing you closer to your high. Your hands tug at his hair, legs trembling as he holds them open, keeping you steady as he pushes you toward the edge.

It doesn’t take long until you cum against his mouth, your body trembling as Minho eagerly drinks in your release. His tongue moves with precision, lapping up every drop of your essence as you ride out your climax, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. He doesn’t shy away, savoring you completely as you come undone beneath him.

Breathless, you feel the need to return the favor. Without a word, you push him back slightly and reach for his shirt. You peel it off, revealing his inked body, each line and curve of the tattoos forever captivating you. Your lips trail over his skin, kissing his chest, neck, and down to the waistband of his jeans, inhaling his natural, intoxicating scent along the way.

Dropping to your knees, you deftly undo the button and fly of his jeans, the sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet room. His growing arousal is clear as you take his hardening length from its confines. You wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly while locking eyes with him, savoring the way his breath hitches in anticipation.

Minho leans back into the sofa, head resting against the cushions as his body relaxes into your touch. He gives you all the room you need, a silent invitation to take control. You waste no time, your mouth closing around his length, warm and wet as you begin to pleasure him.

His hand gently moves to your hair, brushing it out of the way as he watches you intently. "Keep going, honey," he murmurs, his voice soft yet commanding, his thumb brushing your cheek affectionately as you take him deeper.

Your lips glide smoothly along his shaft, your hand stroking the base while your mouth works the rest. His quiet moans and gasps fuel your movements, encouraging you as you bring him closer to the edge. You feel him tense beneath you, his release fast approaching.

Moments later, his body shudders, and he spills into your mouth, his cum spilling onto your tongue. A few drops land on your lips and chin, painting your skin. Minho gazes down at you, his dark eyes full of desire as if admiring his handiwork.

"I know it’s a lot, but I want you to swallow it for me, honey," he whispers, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

Obediently, you close your mouth and swallow, your throat working to take him in. You open your mouth again afterward, showing him that you’ve done as he asked, a mischievous glint in your eye.

A satisfied smirk plays at the corner of his lips, and he pulls you up to straddle him once more. His hands find your waist, holding you firmly as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he can taste himself on you.

For a while, the two of you simply sit there, your bodies pressed together, enjoying the rare and uninterrupted intimacy. There's no rush, no need for words—just the quiet, perfect moment shared between you.

This moment here is yours and yours only.

-

To cool down from the heat of the day, you grab two cans of cold beer from the fridge and hand one to Minho before plopping down beside him on the sofa. Without a word, you take his arm and drape it over your shoulder, snuggling in as close as possible. His presence is comforting, and today, you crave it more than usual.

“To making babies!” you chime, raising your can.

“To making babies!” Minho echoes, clinking his beer can against yours. You both take hearty gulps, the cold liquid instantly refreshing as it runs down your throats.

For months now, you and Minho have been trying to have another child, but despite your best efforts, the results haven't come. You both decided to stop stressing about it and just enjoy the process. And right now, enjoying the process is exactly what’s on your mind.

You softly trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips, feeling the light stubble there. “This mouth still knows how to make me feel good,” you mutter, your words laced with affection.

Minho smirks faintly at your compliment. “This mouth always takes me well,” he teases back, making you laugh softly.

You smile, leaning into him. “I think we’ve been working really well on this baby-making thing.”

“We make a great team,” he remarks, his hand snaking around your neck as he pulls you toward him, placing a kiss on your lips. His lips are warm, a reminder of the connection you both share.

“But honey…” he murmurs as he pulls back just enough to gaze at you, “We haven’t even started making babies yet.”

You narrow your eyes at him, catching onto the playful glint in his gaze. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.”

What happened earlier was just the warm-up, the teasing foreplay. The real fun, the true attempt, is still ahead. You take the can from his hand and place it on the coffee table, along with yours, before climbing onto his lap. Your arms loop around his neck as you straddle him, the closeness already setting your skin on fire.

Minho’s hands are quick to move, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of your dress. He tugs it down, the soft sound of it parting filling the quiet space. You help by pulling the dress over your head, tossing it onto the floor before pressing your body against his, skin to skin.

His lips capture yours in a slow, deep kiss, one that sends shivers down your spine. His hands roam your body, one sliding down your back until he reaches the curve of your rear, giving it a firm squeeze. You melt into his touch, sighing against his mouth.

“Let’s make cute babies, mmh?” you whisper, your lips brushing his before kissing him again.

“Yeah, let's make another little shit,” he jokes, a playful grin on his face as his hand lands a firm slap on your ass.

“Honey!” you shriek, though your sly smile gives away how much you’re enjoying it.

Maybe it’s the rare freedom of having the house to yourselves that makes Minho loosen up more than usual. He’s rougher, more intense, and you don’t hold back from showing how much you love every moment. Your moans fill the room as he thrusts into you, deep and purposeful, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you.

But then he slows down, deliberately pulling back just as you’re nearing your release, letting the tension slip away. He’s done it more than twice now, and it’s starting to drive you crazy.

“Minho, quit playing,” you grumble, gripping his shoulder, your frustration clear as your body aches for release.

“What?” he asks, playing dumb, a smirk plastered on his angular face.

“We have to pick up Byeol soon,” you remind him, your voice breathless. “We can’t be late.”

“Don’t worry, honey,” he reassures you, his words followed by a hasty kiss as he continues thrusting into you. “We’ll finish just in time.”

Minho always has his way, and you know it’s impossible to stop him when he wants something—especially this.

-

Later that night, you stand in the kitchen, watching the microwave hum as it cooks the popcorn. Your eyes drift toward the living room, where Minho and Byeol are sitting on the sofa, engrossed in a movie. Byeol, as animated as ever, is eagerly explaining something about the plot to her dad, her little hands moving in excitement.

It’s such a simple, everyday sight, yet it fills you with a deep sense of contentment. You can’t help but smile. Moments like this remind you of how lucky you are to have this life. But at the same time, a small voice inside asks: Do I really deserve all of this?

The microwave beeps, snapping you out of your thoughts. You grab the bowl you’ve prepared and carefully rip open the package, letting the freshly popped kernels spill into it. The warm, buttery scent fills the air as you carry the bowl to the living room.

You place the bowl of popcorn on Byeol’s lap, earning a sweet, “Thank you, mommy,” from her.

“You’re very welcome, honey,” you reply, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head before settling down next to Minho.

One arm wraps around his back as you nestle closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. You’ve always loved the way his tattoos curve along his neck, but what you love even more is kissing him there. So you do, placing a soft, lingering kiss on his skin, breathing in his familiar scent.

“How do you do it, honey?” you ask in a low voice.

Minho slightly turns his head, meeting your gaze as his hand moves to rest on top of yours, which lies comfortably on his chest. “What?”

“Act like you didn’t rearrange my guts hours ago on this very sofa?” you tease, a playful giggle escaping your lips.

He narrows his eyes at you, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You can tell that the memory of your earlier activities is playing through his mind just like it is in yours. Instead of answering, he leans in and kisses you, his tongue sneaking past your lips in a move that’s definitely risky considering Byeol is just a few feet away. But Minho loves to push boundaries, and you love him for it.

Just as the kiss deepens, Byeol speaks up, her voice pulling you both back to reality. “Mommy, you have to watch this!” she pouts, her tone full of urgency. “This is the best part!”

You break the kiss with a soft laugh, one of those inevitable interruptions that come with being parents. You grab a handful of popcorn and turn your attention to the screen. “Okay, okay, Mommy’s watching,” you promise, your voice light as Minho keeps his hand laced with yours on his chest.

In moments like these, you realize something important: whether or not you ever have another child, you’re already blessed. Byeol is everything you could have ever asked for, and Minho—he’s been more than a great partner. He’s been a wonderful father and an unwavering source of love. Your marriage has been nothing short of bliss, and every day with them feels like a gift.

This is your family. Your little slice of forever. And you love them more than words can ever express.

-

It’s another day in Minho’s life, waking up early as usual. He stretches with a groan, then instinctively scoots closer to your side of the bed. His arm snakes around you, and he places a soft kiss on your neck, but something feels off.

Frowning, he props himself up on one elbow and gently moves the hair away from your face. The sheen of sweat on your forehead makes his concern grow. Minho presses the back of his hand to your neck, confirming what he fears—you’re burning up with a fever.

In an instant, he’s out of bed, hurrying to the medicine cabinet to grab the thermometer. When he returns, he presses the tip to your ear, waiting until the beep confirms it—you definitely have a fever.

“Honey,” he calls softly, his voice laced with worry as you shift under the covers. “You’re burning up.”

Your eyes flutter open, wincing as though it’s painful to wake. “I don’t feel well,” you croak.

“I’m going to get you some aspirin, okay?” Minho says, already half-jogging back to the cabinet, grabbing both the medicine and a glass of water.

He helps you sit up, watching closely as you take the aspirin and wash it down with a big gulp of water. Gently, he tucks you back into bed, pulling the blanket up to your chest.

“You’re not going to work today, okay?” Minho says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You nod weakly, your eyes already closing as you curl up, trying to get more rest.

Minho sighs, hating to see you like this. Looking so pale and fragile, it makes him feel helpless. But all he can do is be there for you.

“Just rest, mmh?” he murmurs softly, patting your head tenderly. He fixes the blanket again before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. As he closes the door, he hopes you’ll get the peace and rest you need.

His morning routine is thrown off, but he shifts focus, knowing he needs to get Byeol ready for school. He moves through the kitchen, preparing breakfast and her lunchbox, making sure everything’s packed and ready.

“Where’s mommy?” Byeol asks, noticing the absence at the breakfast table.

“Mommy’s not feeling well,” Minho explains, making a mental note to call your assistant and inform them that you won’t be able to work today.

“Mommy is sick?” Byeol’s face is full of concern, even with her mouth full of food.

“Yes, honey.” Minho places the lid on her lunchbox and tucks it into her bag.

Before leaving, Byeol insists on checking on you. She tiptoes into the bedroom, softly resting her head on your arm and placing a kiss on your hand, even though you’re fast asleep.

“Bye, bye, mommy,” she whispers. “Get well soon!”

If only you could see it, you’d know how much your little girl cherishes and loves you.

Minho follows suit, bending down to kiss your head. “I’ll be back soon, honey,” he whispers.

The whole morning passes while you sleep, and by the time Minho returns from his work downstairs, he finds you sitting up in bed, talking on the phone, probably informing the office about your sick day. He checks your temperature once more, relieved to find that the fever is starting to subside. Sitting next to you, he feels your head rest on his shoulder the moment you hang up the call.

“Feeling better?” he asks softly.

“Still feel like shit,” you mutter bluntly.

“You haven’t eaten anything,” Minho gently scolds. “Want me to make you something?”

You nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, taking a moment to think. “You know, I suddenly crave your fried rice.”

“Fried rice?” He raises an eyebrow, expecting you to want soup or something light.

“Mm-hmm,” you confirm, “and make it a little spicy.”

“Spicy fried rice?” Minho asks, slightly surprised, considering your low spice tolerance.

“Yes,” you insist, and he can’t help but smile.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, giving in easily. He lingers a little longer, enjoying your warmth as you snuggle into him.

As he cooks in the kitchen, Minho is surprised when he sees you walking out of the bedroom. Slowly, you make your way to the sofa in the living room.

“I was about to bring it to you in bed,” he says, pouring the freshly made fried rice onto a plate.

“It’s okay,” you wave him off, sitting down with a sigh. “I needed to go to the bathroom anyway.”

He brings the food over, along with another aspirin and a glass of water. Sitting beside you, he watches as you take your first bite.

“Oh, God! This is so good,” you gush, as though tasting his fried rice for the first time.

“It’s not too spicy?”

“Actually, it’s not spicy enough,” you tease, which makes him laugh since he knows how low your spice tolerance usually is.

Time passes quickly, and soon, it’s almost time to pick up Byeol from school.

“Don’t forget to take your medicine after,” Minho reminds, kissing your head before standing up.

“Honey,” you call sweetly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask for more fried rice before you leave?” You flash him a playful grin.

How could he say no to that? “Of course, honey.”

When Byeol arrives home, she runs straight to you, burying her face in your chest, clearly happy to see you looking a little better.

“Mommy, don’t be sick!” she mumbles with such concern, it tugs at your heart.

“It’s just a fever, honey. Mommy will be okay,” you assure her, rubbing her back softly.

Minho watches the scene, understanding just how much you mean to Byeol and how much it affects you to see her worry. He heads back to the kitchen, preparing some snacks for her before his next appointment at the parlor.

“Take care of mommy while Daddy’s working, okay?” he says, giving Byeol a little responsibility.

Two hours later, Minho returns to find the two of you still in the living room. Byeol is busy working on her homework while you’ve fallen asleep on the sofa.

“Shh... mommy’s sleeping,” Byeol whispers as soon as she notices him approaching, her finger pressed to her lips.

Minho steps back with his hands raised. “Okay, sorry,” he whispers with a chuckle.

Still speaking in a hushed tone, Minho asks, “What do you want for dinner?”

Byeol thinks hard, a hand under her chin just like you do when making decisions. “Hmm... soup dumplings?”

Minho smiles. “Okay, soup dumplings it is.”

“Can Mommy eat soup dumplings when she’s sick?” Byeol asks, her thoughtfulness touching his heart.

“I think so. Mommy would love them,” he assures her.

Byeol smiles, content with the answer, before returning to her homework.

As Minho watches the two of you, he feels that familiar sense of determination. There’s nothing he loves more than taking care of his girls, but seeing one of you get sick? That part he hates. And it only makes him more resolved to do everything he can to keep you both safe and happy.

-

The next morning, it’s as if the fever never happened. You wake up a little later than Minho, feeling refreshed after a shower and getting dressed for work. There's a bounce in your step as you head to the kitchen, the scent of coffee drawing you in.

"How do you feel?" Minho asks as you nonchalantly steal his mug and take a sip of his coffee.

"I feel good," you reply with a smile, leaning in to press a lingering kiss on his lips before heading off to Byeol’s room.

You help your daughter get ready, brushing her hair and helping her pick out clothes. Together, you return to the dining table, where Byeol beams up at Minho, already dressed and ready for school.

"This looks delicious, daddy!" she chirps, eyeing the breakfast spread.

"Then you'll have no problem finishing it, right?" Minho teases, earning a giggle from her.

He serves you a fresh plate and pours another cup of coffee before sitting down for a quiet breakfast together. You take your first bite of scrambled eggs, but something’s off. Almost immediately, you feel your stomach turn, and you slap a hand over your mouth, quickly excusing yourself to the bathroom.

"Is mommy sick again?" Byeol asks, her voice tinged with concern.

"Daddy will check on mommy," Minho reassures her, getting up to follow you.

He finds you bent over the sink, splashing water into your mouth, trying to calm the nausea. Worry flickers across his face as he steps inside.

"Honey, are you okay?" he asks gently, handing you a towel.

You nod, still rinsing your mouth, though the nausea lingers. "I’m fine," you manage, though the look in his eyes tells you he’s not convinced.

You snort, spitting water into the sink as a small smile breaks through. He rubs soothing circles on your back, but the concern doesn’t leave his face.

"You didn’t have any trouble swallowing the other day," he jokes, his voice low and teasing.

"Maybe you should take another day off work," he suggests.

"I’m okay," you say, more to convince yourself than him.

"You sure?"

"I’m sure," you nod, smiling faintly.

Still not entirely convinced, he squeezes your shoulder. "I’ll drive you to work today."

You stay in the bathroom for a moment longer, trying to shake off the odd feeling, while Minho returns to Byeol, who’s nearly finished her breakfast. He packs her lunch, sliding it into her school bag just as you call for him from the bedroom.

"Minho…" Your voice trembles slightly, and he’s at your side in seconds, worry clouding his eyes.

"What’s going on?" he asks, noticing the strange look on your face.

You raise your hand, holding something small and unmistakable—a pregnancy test. "I’m pregnant," you announce, the words filled with joy as a slow smile spreads across your face.

This is the moment you've both been waiting for, what you’ve been hoping would happen after months of trying. You should be celebrating together, but as the realization sinks in, you notice something shift in Minho’s expression. There’s happiness there, but it’s shadowed by something else—uncertainty, perhaps—and it’s enough to make your smile falter.

You look away, turning to Byeol instead. "Mommy is having another baby," you say, keeping your tone light and cheerful.

Byeol looks as confused as Minho, though hers is an innocent curiosity. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Mommy doesn’t know yet," you chuckle softly, kneeling beside her. "But you’re going to be a big sister."

"Who’s going to be a big sister?" Felix’s voice echoes from the doorway. You turn, spotting him leaning against the frame, his eyes bright with curiosity.

It’s a conversation you know will be public knowledge soon enough, so you smile and tell him, "Byeol is going to be a big sister."

Felix gasps, his eyes going wide. "Oh! You’re pregnant?" he asks, just to make sure he’s hearing correctly.

"Yes," you nod.

"Oh my gosh! Congratulations!" Felix exclaims, immediately pulling you into a hug. Heis genuinely thrilled, his excitement infectious, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy it. But in the back of your mind, the comparison stings—this was the reaction you had hoped for from Minho.

A deafening silence fills the car on the ride to work, an unspoken tension hanging heavy between you and Minho. After dropping off Byeol at school, neither of you speaks, and the quiet lingers, almost suffocating. It's only when the car pulls up outside your office building that you finally break it.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face him. “Minho,” you say softly, your voice carrying a weight that makes him immediately focus. He lets go of the steering wheel, giving you his full attention.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to work without us talking about it,” you admit, addressing the elephant in the room. Your fingers find his, loosely lacing them together. “You can tell me what’s really going on.”

Minho shifts, clearly aware that his earlier reaction might have come across the wrong way. He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “It’s not that I’m not happy,” he starts, his voice quiet, “I’m just… worried.”

Your brows furrow, and he continues, his eyes softening as he speaks. “You remember when you gave birth to Byeol? You went through so much pain, and… you lost a lot of blood.”

The memory seems to weigh heavily on him, and you can almost see it playing out in his mind as he talks. “Seeing you sick is enough to make me worry, but I can’t bear the thought of you going through that again.”

For a split second, he lets down his guard, allowing you to glimpse the deeper, more fragile part of him. The part that cares for you more than anything else in the world.

“Oh, honey…” you sigh, the sadness in your voice mixing with a fond smile as you lean closer. “You just love me so much, don’t you?”

Minho shrugs in that nonchalant way he does, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal. But you can see through it.

You chuckle softly, squeezing his hand tighter. “Honestly, I’m scared too,” you confess. “But I’m not when I’m with you.” You rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in deeply, letting the warmth of the moment settle between you both. “With you, I feel like I can do anything.”

You shift slightly, meeting his gaze with a smile that’s full of reassurance and love. It’s a smile that tells him you’re ready for this, that you both are.

Minho looks at you for a moment, then, unable to help himself, he jokes, "When it comes down to you or the child, just know… I’ll choose to adopt Felix."

Your eyes widen in playful disbelief, pretending to stammer, "Uh... okay?" before you both break into laughter.

He cups your face gently, his thumb brushing your cheek as he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s not just any kiss—it lingers, slow and deep, conveying all the love he has for you, the excitement that’s starting to bubble beneath the surface now that his fears are laid bare.

When the kiss ends, you whisper, “Just close your eyes, Minho and I'll tell you when the scary part is over.”

And for the first time since the news, Minho lets go of the weight on his chest. He chooses to believe in the good things, in the joy that’s coming, and almost can’t believe it—his family is getting bigger.

-

Four months have passed, and your baby bump has grown. Minho can't help but admire how your pencil skirt hugs your figure, accentuating the curve of your belly. It’s a constant reminder to him that you’re carrying his child, and the thought stirs something primal in him. Moreover, you’ve been carrying the pregnancy well, glowing with that unmistakable maternal aura that only makes him fall for you more. But beyond admiration, it also ignites a deeper, more physical desire in him.

The rooftop of the tattoo parlor, where the Oddinary crew often gathers, is buzzing with laughter as they celebrate Yoon’s birthday. Pizza boxes and cans of beer are scattered around, though you and Byeol stick to bottles of juice.

"This is from us," Minho says casually, handing Yoon the gift as if it's no big deal.

Yoon lights up as she accepts it. "Thank you so much!"

"Happy birthday, Yoon!" you add with a smile, comfortably sitting on Minho’s lap.

"Can I open it?" Yoon asks, her excitement barely contained.

"Go ahead!" you encourage. "We hope you like it."

Yoon eagerly tears through the wrapping, revealing a brand-new iPad. Her old one had seen better days, and she’d often complained about needing a new one for her tattoo designs now that she was taking on more clients. Her eyes widen, and she clutches it close to her chest. "Oh, thank you! I really needed this."

Felix, with Byeol on his lap, glances over with a playful pout. "You guys didn’t get me that game console when I asked it as a birthday gift," he mutters.

"That’s because you already play too many video games," you scold, slipping effortlessly into a motherly tone.

Felix turns to Minho for support. "Hyung?"

Minho grins. "I’m afraid she’s right."

Felix lets out a dramatic groan, "Not fair!"

Meanwhile, Sujin hands Yoon a necklace, adding to her growing collection as she likes to stack multiple necklaces around her neck on daily basis.

"So, where are we going out tonight?" she asks, likely already texting her husband with plans.

Minho shakes his head, his decision firm. "I’m sitting this one out tonight."

"Why?" Yoon asks, her brows knitting together.

Minho retrieves his wallet from his back pocket and hands Yoon a credit card. "You all have fun. It’s on me."

Yoon pretends to consider. "Great! I’ll use this to pay my phone bills then," she jokes, holding the card with both hands.

Sujin steps in with a playful roll of her eyes, taking the card from Yoon. "Don’t worry, I’ll keep everyone in check."

After tucking Byeol into bed, Minho joins you in the bedroom. He finds you in the bathroom, already dressed for bed, applying lotion to your arms as part of your nightly skincare routine. Without a word, he slips behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as his hands rest gently on your baby bump.

"You know, I don’t mind if you went out tonight," you say, catching his gaze in the mirror. "Or any night, really."

Minho nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling the soothing scent of your skin. "It’s okay. I have something better to do anyway," he replies, his voice low.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you lean into his touch. "And what’s that?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

His lips brush against your neck as he murmurs, "You."

For the last few months, Minho has been cautious, knowing it wasn't safe to be intimate in the early stages of your pregnancy. But tonight, the careful distance he’s kept melts away. He needs you, craves you.

Later, you lie at the edge of the bed, propped on your elbows, your eyes locked on him with the same hunger that burns in his. Minho stands, positioned between your legs, moving with slow, deliberate care. His hands are planted on either side of your waist, and he leans down, pressing soft, heated kisses on your skin.

"Honey…" you moan, your voice a breathless whisper as his lips trail over your neck.

You tilt your head, seeking his mouth, and he gives in, kissing you with an intensity that feels like a lifeline. His movements are measured, filled with restraint and passion, but you can feel him starting to lose control, both of you teetering on the edge.

"I’m so close," you whimper, your hand gripping his arm tightly.

Minho threads his fingers through yours, his voice a soft promise. "I’ll give it to you, honey," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

With one last push, the tension between you snaps, and Minho groans deeply as he releases, filling you completely. His lips find yours in a deep, breathless kiss, his body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

As you both lie together afterward, the room quiet except for the sound of your breathing, Minho pulls you close, his hand resting tenderly on your belly. He peppers your skin with soft, fluttering kisses, his heart full, his love for you overwhelming.

"I love you," he whispers, the words carrying a weight that fills the room.

You smile, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "I love you."

And that’s how Minho ends his day—wrapped up in you, content and at peace, his heart overflowing with love for the family you’re growing together.

-

In the middle of the night, Minho stirs from his sleep as he feels the bed shift. His eyes blink open just in time to see you slipping out of the bedroom. A wave of sleepiness pulls him to stay put, but curiosity wins over. He pushes himself out of bed and follows you.

Quietly stepping into the kitchen, Minho catches sight of you standing by the fridge, sniffing a jar of pickles. "What are you doing?" he asks, his eyes squinted in the dim light.

Startled, you nearly drop the jar, letting out a sigh of relief when you realize it’s just him. "Minho, can you not—" you begin, a little exasperated, but the words trail off.

Minho approaches, his footsteps soft, mindful not to wake Byeol, who’s fast asleep in her room. It’s not the first time he’s found you sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack, and he understands it. Pregnancy cravings don’t adhere to normal schedules.

"Are you hungry?" he asks gently, placing a hand on the small of your back.

"Yeah," you reply sheepishly, setting the pickles aside.

"What do you feel like eating?" Minho opens the fridge, glancing at the contents inside.

You scratch your chin, reminding him so much of Byeol when she’s deep in thought. Then, with a grin, you suggest, "Grilled cheese?"

As Minho works in the kitchen, keeping the noise to a minimum, you curl up on the sofa, munching on some of Byeol’s leftover snacks and catching up on your favorite show. It’s comforting, the familiar routine of it all, even at this hour.

Soon enough, Minho walks over with a plate in hand. You reach out eagerly, but the sandwich is still too hot to touch, causing you to hiss in surprise. "Honey, can you—" you begin to ask, but Minho, anticipating your next request, hands you a bottle of honey before you can finish the sentence.

"Thank you," you beam, wasting no time drizzling the honey over the grilled cheese.

Minho watches with a mixture of amusement and fondness. You didn’t have any unusual cravings during your first pregnancy, but this time around, honey seems to find its way onto everything—toast, fruit, milk, even pizza. It’s strange, but as long as you’re happy and eating, he’s not about to question it.

"Good?" he asks, eyes twinkling.

You nod, unable to answer with your mouth full of food. He can’t help but smile as he watches you enjoy every bite.

"Do you want me to make you another one?" he offers as you near the end of the sandwich.

"If I keep eating like this in the middle of the night, I’m going to get so big," you grumble, pausing to add more honey to the toast.

Minho tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Why is that a bad thing?" he asks, his voice soft. "That just means there’ll be more of you for me to hold."

His words make you smile, and with a playful glint in your eyes, you shove the last piece into your mouth. "In that case, I’ll take another one."

While waiting for the second grilled cheese, you switch up your approach, tearing it into pieces and dipping them in honey. Your attention shifts between the food and the TV, but then you suddenly blurt out, "We don’t know the baby’s gender yet, but I think we should have a pet name."

Minho chuckles. "Got any ideas?"

You pause for a moment before laughing at your own suggestion, "Honeypot?"

Minho grins, playing along. "How about ‘little shit’?"

You surprise him by laughing and agreeing, "I like that. Because he’s being a greedy little shit right now," you say affectionately, your hand resting on your baby bump.

Minho watches you with a warm smile, finding it adorable how you scold your bump with such endearment. It hits him, too—this little one is his little shit as well.

"We’ll have to be careful not to say that around Byeol though," you add with a grin.

-

Third trimester is where things get a little rough.

Your baby bump has grown even larger, and your protruding belly button makes it nearly impossible to find a comfortable sleeping position. Swollen ankles and feet, constant trips to the bathroom every hour or two, and an aching back keep you tossing and turning through the night. Worse, your body radiates heat, and Minho, sharing the bed with you, often wakes up drenched in sweat. But no matter how uncomfortable it gets for him, he knows you’ve got it much worse.

It’s the weekend, and Minho’s first thought is to let you and Byeol rest. He starts cooking breakfast a little later than usual, hoping you’ll get some extra sleep. The smell of food wafts through the apartment, and soon, you shuffle into the kitchen, sleepily rubbing your eyes.

"Morning," you mumble, slowly making your way to him, one hand supporting your belly as you lean in for a soft morning kiss.

"Morning," he replies, still whisking the batter for French toast.

"What’s for breakfast?" you ask, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder.

"French toast," Minho answers, focused on the task at hand.

"Yum!" you hum, your voice filled with satisfaction as you gently let go of him to patiently wait for breakfast on the dining table.

Sitting down, you grab your phone and begin to check work emails, your mind briefly occupied. As you concentrate on typing, a sudden sneeze bursts out of you.

"Oh?!" You gasp, feeling something unexpected. Your eyes widen, and you glance toward Minho. "I think I just pissed my pants."

Minho freezes, whisk in hand, turning to you with wide eyes. "Are you serious?"

"I don’t know," you laugh, frustration mixing with amusement. "I can't see it."

Your belly is too big to check on your own, so Minho walks over, pulling your chair back to give himself a better view. He bends down and takes a look.

"Nice!" he says, chuckling as he spots the wet patch on your shorts.

You narrow your eyes at him, clearly unamused. "You're having a good laugh, huh?"

Minho’s grin widens, unable to hold back the laughter. "Want me to help you clean up then?"

"Just hurry up with breakfast! I'm hungry!" you huff, half laughing, half exasperated, giving him a light push back toward the kitchen.

He turns back to the stove, still smiling as he flips the French toast, and a few minutes later, he places the plate in front of you. You can’t help but eye the delicious breakfast with anticipation.

Minho leans down and presses a quick kiss on the top of your head. "Eat well, pisspants," he teases, smirking.

You groan but can’t help smiling as you take a bite of the French toast. Even with the little mishap, moments like these make everything easier to handle—his teasing, his care, and the love that fills your home.

-

Minho only has one appointment today, and once he's done, he heads up to the third floor. He finds you napping on the sofa, the TV still on in the background. The sight makes him pause, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He knows better than to wake you—you’ve been struggling to sleep at night, and the rest is much needed.

Settling down beside you, Minho glances at the TV. It’s one of those shows you love, the kind that he could never get into, but he watches it anyway because you do. After two episodes, though, he starts to get bored. He leans closer, unable to resist the urge to press soft kisses against your cheek, then your forehead, and finally the tip of your nose.

"Honey, wake up," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he playfully tugs your nose between his lips.

You stir in your sleep, letting out a groggy groan as you weakly push at his head, trying to go back to sleep.

"Wake up," Minho tries again, this time burying his face into your neck and planting a series of ticklish kisses along your skin. "I’m bored."

"Go play with your daughter," you mumble, eyes still closed, your voice heavy with sleep.

"Your parents are taking her fishing, remember?" Minho reminds you, his tone soft but teasing. "You’re stuck with me."

The words sink in slowly, and you finally crack your eyes open, squinting up at him. "What do you want to do?" you ask, half curious, half resigned to whatever he’s planning.

Minho grins, shifting on the sofa to make himself more comfortable. "We can ride a roller coaster."

You chuckle, still drowsy. "I don’t think they let pregnant women ride roller coasters."

"Okay, fine. Haunted house?"

"Also, pregnant," you remind him, closing your eyes again.

He huffs, feigning frustration as he thinks. "How about a horror movie?"

You consider for a moment before mumbling, "Sure, put one on. I’ll watch it with you."

"No," he counters, shaking his head. "We’re not watching it here."

That gets your attention. You open one eye, giving him a suspicious look. "You want to go out and watch a horror movie?"

"Yup," Minho nods enthusiastically.

You sigh, staring at the ceiling as if contemplating how you ended up married to someone this persistent. "Fine, give me a minute to get ready."

The real reason Minho wanted to take you out wasn’t just boredom. He knew things would change soon, with a second child on the way, and he couldn’t remember the last time it was just the two of you. You deserved a break, and he wanted to give it to you, even if that meant taking you to see a horror movie you’d likely sleep through.

Later, after the movie, Minho waits outside the women’s restroom with your bag slung over his shoulder. When you emerge, you’re grumbling under your breath, your face scrunched up in discomfort.

"My feet," you mutter, pausing to adjust your swollen ankles in your shoes.

Minho glances down and sees how tight the shoes have become, your feet swollen from the pregnancy. Without missing a beat, he suggests, "Let’s get you a pair of sandals, yeah?"

You nod, grateful, as he leads you to a nearby shop. Inside, he doesn’t hesitate to kneel down, taking off your shoes and replacing them with a more comfortable pair of sandals. While he’s down there, he gently rubs your ankles, soothing the swelling.

"Better?" he asks, looking up at you with a smile.

"Much better, thank you," you sigh, relief washing over you as you take his hand, helping him to his feet.

On the way out of the store, you pause to admire a cardigan on display, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric. Minho notices, stepping beside you.

"You want that one too?" he asks, already reaching for his wallet.

You hesitate for a moment before slipping it off the hanger. "Does it look good on me?"

"I think it fits you well," he simply answers.

Minho buys it without a second thought, handing it over to you with a smile. He knows you can buy it for yourself, but he enjoys spoiling you in little ways when he can. It’s his way of showing his love, in gestures that remind him how lucky he is to have you.

As you both make your way to your favorite Italian restaurant, Minho buys a flower from an elderly lady selling them on the street. He hands it to you with a soft smile, the simple gesture making you raise an eyebrow.

"Okay, you can tell me now," you say, taking the flower but eyeing him suspiciously.

"What?" he laughs, feigning innocence.

"You know I wasn’t suspicious until you gave me flowers," you tease, poking at him with your free hand. "So what’s this all about?"

Minho grins, leaning back in his chair, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh. "I just felt bad for the elderly lady," he explains with a shrug.

You narrow your eyes, skeptical. "The last time you gave me flowers, you were apologizing for lying to me."

He chuckles, taking a sip of water as if stalling.

Leaning in, you lower your voice conspiratorially. "Did you sell the building to pay for your secret gambling debt?"

"No!" Minho laughs, shaking his head at your wild guess.

"Did you kill someone and need my help to bury the body?" you continue, your tone playful but serious.

His lips twitch into a smirk. "You’d help me bury the body?"

"Depends on who you killed," you joke, tearing a piece of bread and popping it into your mouth. "Whoever it was probably deserved it."

Minho’s laughter fades into a thoughtful smile. There was, in fact, something he needed to tell you, something he’s been holding back. After a moment, he clears his throat, turning more serious.

"You remember Hyunjin?" he asks.

You tilt your head. "The beautiful, tall guy with long dark hair and a rose tattoo on his finger?"

Minho narrows his eyes, pointing at your baby bump. "Be careful, you're already cheating on me with that little shit."

You laugh and put all of your attention on him, "Go on, what about Hyunjin?"

"He invited me to do a guest spot at his parlor," Minho says in a rush, blurting out the words.

You blink at him. "You want to do it?"

He nods slowly. "Yeah. I think it’d be... fun."

You smile softly, seeing how much he wants it. "Then you should do it."

Minho hesitates, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh. "But I can’t leave you. Not when you’re…"

"Yes, you can," you cut him off gently, placing your hand over his, "And you will."

"But I’ll be away for two weeks," he protests, his voice softening with worry.

"That’s fine. I’ll be on maternity leave anyway," you remind him, tearing another piece of bread. "It works out."

Minho stares at you for a moment, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. "You’re okay with it?" he asks, still unsure why he hesitated so much in the first place.

"Look, Minho," you begin, squeezing his hand, "You’ve done so much for me, for us. I want you to be able to do your thing too."

The simplicity of your words hits him harder than he expected. He looks at you, feeling overwhelmed with how lucky he is to have you as his partner, someone who understands him without him needing to explain. You give him the freedom to be his own person while still being a devoted father and husband.

"I don’t want you to hesitate to tell me the next time you have something you want to do, okay?" You add, your voice soft yet firm.

Minho nods, the smile that spreads across his face filled with love and gratitude. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

-

The apartment feels quieter than usual with Byeol spending the weekend with your parents. Despite the peace, a slight ache of longing tugs at your chest, so you call her to hear her voice. After a sweet chat, you hand the phone to Minho so she can talk with her dad.

“We’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay?” he says softly to your daughter. He smiles at something she says, his voice tender as he adds, “Sleep well. Goodnight!” He hangs up, and you sigh, shifting for what feels like the hundredth time beside him.

“The little shit won’t stop moving,” you mutter, rubbing your belly in frustration.

Minho puts your phone away and leans against the headboard, patting the space between his legs. “Come here.”

You shuffle over, leaning your back against his chest. His arms wrap around you, and his hands instantly find your swollen belly, rubbing gentle, soothing circles over it. His touch has always been your comfort.

“I think little shit can’t sleep because of the horror movie we watched earlier,” you murmur, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

He chuckles softly, his fingers tracing patterns beneath your camisole, feeling every tiny kick and movement. “No, I think little shit is just excited.”

The sensation of his hands on you, tender yet firm, is grounding. Slowly, the tension eases from your body. You melt into his warmth, your eyelids growing heavier with each caress. Minho presses a series of soft kisses along your temple, quiet and full of affection. His hand reaches for yours and he slips his fingers in between.

Knowing that he's noticing your swollen fingers, you say, "I need to take the wedding ring off."

Without saying anything, Minho takes it off for you and slightly struggling doing it. Once he successfully takes it off, he safely places the ring on the bedside table.

“How can I leave if you’re like this, mmh?” he whispers, his lips brushing your skin.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Minho," You smile sleepily, your eyes barely open. "I’ll be okay.”

"No, I mean, leaving you and you're not wearing the wedding ring..." he says with a playful smirk.

Your laugh vibrates through him, "I don’t think people would try to flirt with pregnant woman."

"I do," he shamelessly admits.

"That’s because you're deranged," you teasingly say and look over you shoulder at him, "my deranged husband."

His arms tighten around you, and though he knows you’re right, the thought of leaving still tugs at him. But as he feels you relax completely in his embrace, he remembers that if there's one thing he learned from years of being married to you is that you're stronger than you look.

-

It's 3 a.m., but Minho can’t bring himself to move. He lies there, watching you sleep peacefully beside him, your belly softly rising and falling with each breath. Part of him wishes he could stay, to spend the whole day with you. After a while, he reluctantly leans in, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your cheek before carefully pulling himself away.

He slips out of bed, moving quietly around the room, trying not to disturb you. The first flight out of the city awaits, and he needs to be at the airport in less than an hour. Minho takes his suitcase downstairs, leaving it by the door before heading back upstairs for a proper goodbye.

He steps into Byeol’s room, pausing at the edge of her bed, watching her little form snuggled under the blankets. She looks so peaceful, and it tugs at his heart.

“Daddy will be back,” he whispers, brushing a few stray hairs off her forehead. Leaning down, he places a soft kiss there. “Love you, my little star.”

He makes a quiet exit from her room but freezes when he sees you standing in the doorway of your bedroom, your hands resting gently on your growing bump, a sleepy but warm smile on your face.

“You think you can get rid of me that easily, huh?” you tease, your voice low and playful.

Minho grins, walking over to meet you, and together, you head downstairs just as the taxi pulls up outside. The driver steps out to help with the luggage as Minho turns back to you, double-checking everything.

“Got your wallet? Flight tickets?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Got them,” he confirms, patting his jacket pocket.

“Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything?” You ask again.

There’s a sly smile on your lips, and Minho hesitates, trying to remember. You squint, holding up his phone that you’d swiped without him noticing. He smiles, taking it from you and tapping on the screen, only to see that you’ve changed his lock screen to a photo of you and Byeol.

“So you remember you’ve got a wife and a daughter waiting for you at home,” you say with a playful smirk.

Minho laughs, but when he unlocks the phone, he finds another surprise—a rather provocative picture of you, posing in a way that makes him flashing you a mischievous grin.

“Just a friendly reminder of what you’ll be losing if you even think about flirting with anyone,” you warn him, your tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness.

Minho tucks his phone away, stepping close to you, though your belly stops him from getting as close as he’d like. He places a hand tenderly on your bump, rubbing it in slow circles. “Keep this little shit inside until I get back, okay?”

You chuckle, your hand covering his. “I’ll try.”

His other hand cups your face, pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. There’s something tender, something a little desperate about the way he holds you, as if this moment is too precious to let go.

“I love you,” he whispers between kisses, his voice low and full of feeling.

“I love you,” you murmur back, your smile soft against his lips, your forehead resting against his.

With a final kiss, Minho lets go, though his hand remains intertwined with yours. He traces his thumb across your cheek, as if memorizing your features one last time.

“Take care, and be back safely,” you say, your smile bittersweet.

He nods, but his legs feel heavy. This is the first time he’s leaving his family, and it’s harder than he anticipated. His body doesn’t want to move, like it’s rooted to the spot, not ready to let go.

“And don’t forget to enjoy yourself too, mmh?” you add with a warm smile.

Minho swallows the knot in his throat, forcing a smile. “I will.”

Finally, he turns toward the taxi, walking slowly as if each step pulls him further from you. He doesn’t look back—not yet—because he knows he’ll run straight back into your arms. Only when the taxi starts driving away does he glance back, watching you wave until he disappears down the street.

-

The red traffic light seems to stretch endlessly, making every minute feel like an hour. You glance over at the passenger seat, where the carefully packed dinner is growing colder by the second. As soon as the light turns green, you press down on the gas, navigating through the streets at the maximum speed allowed. There’s no time to waste, but you remind yourself that it’s better to make it home in one piece.

With a deep breath, you haul everything out of the car and begin your slow ascent up the stairs. Each step is a challenge with your swollen baby bump, and by the time you reach the third floor, you’re panting.

"Felix, I’m so sorry," you blurt out the moment you open the door to the apartment, "The traffic was horrible..." You trail off as you hurriedly place the bags on the dining table, relieved to finally be home.

The balance between work, pregnancy, and taking care of Byeol has become a juggling act without Minho around, and everyone in the parlor has been taking turns in helping you doing one of them.

As you catch your breath and turn towards the living room, you can’t help but chuckle at the sight before you. Byeol is perched on the couch, happily tying Felix’s long bleached hair into tiny ponytails, adding hairpins and colorful stickers to his face.

"It’s okay, we’re having fun," Felix says, staying as still as possible so Byeol can work on his hair. "Right, rockstar?"

"Mm-mmh," Byeol hums in agreement, her focus entirely on securing a final hairpin in place.

You laugh softly, “You two look like you’re having a blast.”

Once she finishes with Felix’s hair, Byeol runs over to you and hugs your waist, her small arms barely reaching around your bump. "Mommy’s home!" she giggles.

You smile down at her, stroking her hair gently. "Let’s have dinner first, alright? You must be hungry."

Her eyes light up as she eagerly asks, "What’s for dinner?"

"It’s your favorite—soup dumplings," you announce, watching her face brighten. "Go wash your hands first!"

Byeol scampers off to the sink as you turn back to Felix, who’s gently pulling the last hairpins out of his hair.

"Are you staying for dinner?" you ask while unpacking the food.

Felix shakes his head, running a hand through his now free-flowing hair. "I’ve actually got dinner plans with a friend, so I’ll head out."

"Sorry for keeping you," you say apologetically, glancing at the mess of stickers still plastered across his face. You step closer, helping him peel the last of them off.

Felix chuckles, grabbing his jacket. "It’s no problem, really."

"Byeol, say goodbye to Uncle Felix," you call as she finishes washing her hands.

"Thank you for playing with me, Uncle Felix," she says sweetly, running over to give him a hug.

"You’re very welcome, rockstar," Felix replies, hugging her back before standing up to give you a hug as well.

After he leaves, you feel the weight of the past week without Minho settle in. It’s been tough managing everything, but tomorrow marks the start of your maternity leave, and the relief is almost palpable.

"Have you done your homework?" you ask, wiping some leftover sauce from Byeol’s mouth as she finishes her dinner.

"Mommy, I don’t have school tomorrow," she giggles.

"Oh, right! Mommy forgot," you chuckle, realizing it’s school break. "Do you want to do something fun tomorrow?"

Byeol’s eyes widen with excitement. "Mommy’s not working?"

"Nope, no work!" you confirm with a smile.

Her face lights up even more. "I want to go to the aquarium!"

You pause, recalling that she’s already been there recently, but you quickly realize she’s asking for something more—time with you. With another baby on the way, your one-on-one moments with Byeol have been scarce.

"You know what? Tomorrow, we’ll go to the aquarium, and we’ll do whatever else you want. How does that sound?"

"Really, mommy?" she asks, her voice full of wonder.

"Really," you reply, smiling as you brush a hand over her hair.

The next morning, Byeol wakes up buzzing with excitement. She puts on her best clothes and even helps you pack a few things for the day. When you arrive at the parlor downstairs, Byeol is bursting with anticipation.

"Where are you going, superstar?" Sujin asks, opening her arms for a hug.

"I’m going to the aquarium with Mommy!" she declares proudly.

Sujin playfully pouts, "Can Auntie Sujin come too?"

"No," Byeol shakes her head, giggling as Sujin pretends to be offended.

Felix joins in, "What about me? Can I come?"

"No," Byeol repeats, still giggling. "It’s just me and Mommy!"

With everything packed and Byeol bubbling with excitement, you wave goodbye to the parlor crew and head out for a day that’s all about your little girl.

At the aquarium, Byeol is in awe of everything, dragging you from tank to tank, her tiny hand gripping yours as she points excitedly at the sea creatures. "Mommy, look!" she exclaims every few minutes, her eyes wide with wonder.

After hours of exploring, you stop for a quick lunch, letting Byeol take charge of ordering for both of you. She confidently hands over your credit card at the window, beaming with pride.

"So, what do you want to do next?" you ask between bites of fries.

She thinks for a moment before asking, "What about you, Mommy? What do you want to do?"

Caught off guard by her question, you blink a few times, then chuckle. "How about we get our nails done? Or we can watch a movie, or go shopping. What do you think?"

"I want to paint my nails too!" Byeol says, her enthusiasm never faltering.

You smile at the thought. "Alright, why don’t you pick the color, and we’ll have matching nails?"

No one knows your daughter best than you, she likes playing soccer instead of with her dolls, she always prefers to look scary for Halloween instead of dressed as princesses and recently, she mentioned that she wants to take a taekwondo class, you always thought she leans toward such things but you realize that there's so many sides of her that you just haven't discovered yet. A person can be so many things, there's no limit to what they like or what they interest in, for all you know, Byeol can be anything she wants.

Byeol takes the task seriously, carefully scanning the color options before choosing a vibrant purple. The two of you sit side by side at the salon, giggling as your nails are painted, Byeol opting for colorful flower designs on hers.

By the time dinner rolls around, you’re both exhausted but happy. As you head back home, Byeol suddenly dashes toward the elevator.

"Please hold the door! My mommy is pregnant, and she can’t walk fast!" she calls out to the person inside.

The lady smiles kindly and holds the door open. "What a thoughtful little girl you have," she says, patting Byeol’s head as you finally catch up.

"I’m lucky," you reply, pulling Byeol close as the two of you step inside.

As you reflect on the day, you can’t help but feel immense pride in your daughter. She’s growing up so fast, learning and becoming her own person in ways you hadn’t even noticed. You smile to yourself, knowing that no matter what, Byeol is already shaping up to be someone wonderful—someone strong, caring, and unafraid to try new things.

-

As you enter Byeol’s room, the weight of the day settles in, the ache in your feet reminding you of just how much you walked. Still, your little one inside won’t let you rest, kicking incessantly since you got home.

"Ready for bed, starshine?" you ask, watching Byeol eagerly climb under her covers.

"Yes, mommy," she replies, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

You wince slightly as you sit down beside her, gently tucking her in, and she notices immediately.

"Are you okay, mommy?" she asks, her voice full of concern.

"Mommy’s okay," you assure her with a smile. "The baby just keeps kicking."

Byeol, curious and excited, places her small hand on your belly, waiting. Her eyes widen when she feels a kick, and she grins up at you.

"So, did you have fun today?" you ask, softly brushing her hair back.

"I had so much fun!" she says, cuddling into your chest, her voice brimming with joy.

"We can do it again tomorrow," you say, leaning down to kiss her head.

"Mommy’s not working tomorrow?" she asks, her wide eyes hopeful.

"No, mommy is on maternity leave," you explain.

"What’s that?" she questions, her confusion evident.

"It means mommy doesn’t have to work until this baby pops out," you explain simply.

She brightly smiles when she hears it. She throws her arms around you and hugs you tightly as she says, "I love you, mommy."

Your heart shakes from hearing the earnestness in her words, you feel tears forming on the corner of your eyes. You blink them away and put on a smile as you say back, "And mommy loves you too."

You pull the blanket to cover her body and softly pat her head, "You must be tired. Let's get to sleep, yeah?"

She nods as drowsiness starts taking over her, "Goodnight, mommy."

"Goodnight, my shining star," you murmur with a lingering kiss on her forehead.

In your bedroom, you take a moment to sit on the bed and just process everything until you get overwhelmed by the emotions of the day. Tears prick at your eyes, but they’re a mix of joy, exhaustion, and love. Just as you start to wipe them away, the phone rings, and Minho’s name flashes on the screen. You quickly take a deep breath, not wanting to let him hear your tears, and answer the call.

"Hi, honey," you greet him with forced cheer.

"Hey, pisspants," he teases, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"How are you?" you ask, smiling despite yourself.

"I’m surprisingly fine without you," he jokes, and you roll your eyes, "Byeol?"

"All tucked in, not a chance of escape," you say with a playful chuckle.

"And the little shit?" he asks, referring to the baby.

"Practicing kickboxing in here," you say, rubbing your belly as the baby kicks again as if on cue.

"How was your day?" you ask, settling deeper into the bed, "No, wait, unless you tattooed someone’s buttock, I don’t want to hear it," you add with a laugh.

"Sadly, no," Minho replies with a grin in his voice.

"Then ask about my day," you demand, feeling a little more playful.

"Okay, how was your day?" he caves, amused.

You launch into the story of your day, telling him every detail from the morning to the aquarium trip, to Byeol ordering food at the drive-thru, and you can hear his smile through the phone as he listens. He interjects every now and then, keeping up the light banter, and for a moment, it feels like he’s right there with you.

"That sounds fun. I’m jealous," he says when you finish.

"It was," you sigh happily.

It’s moments like these, his teasing, his calm presence, that you miss the most. Your chest tightens with the ache of missing him.

"I miss you," you admit quietly, the tears from earlier creeping back up your throat.

"I miss you too, honey," he says softly, and you can feel the sincerity in his voice.

Even though he’s miles away, in that moment, you feel connected to him, the distance fading as you share the quiet agony of longing for each other.

-

The moment Minho steps off the plane, the cool airport air hits him, a welcome contrast to the hours spent in the stale cabin. He rolls his stiff shoulders, grateful to be on solid ground. He pulls out his phone, ready to text you, expecting to wait for a ride.

But as he walks toward baggage claim, he stops in his tracks, his eyes widening. There, standing just past the barrier, are you and Byeol.

His heart stutters, caught between surprise and overwhelming joy. He wasn’t expecting you to come all this way, especially with your swollen belly and how much you’ve been juggling at home. But here you are, and you’ve brought Byeol, her small face lighting up the second she sees him.

"Daddy!" Byeol yells, her voice cutting through the hum of the crowd as she breaks into a run toward him.

Minho barely has time to drop his carry-on before she’s in his arms, her little body crashing into his with all the force her excitement can muster. He lifts her easily, despite the weariness from the long flight, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

"Hi, honey," he murmurs, pressing his lips to her head, his heart swelling in his chest.

Then, his eyes lift to meet yours. You're standing there, smiling softly at him, looking beautiful and tired all at once, your hand resting on your rounded belly. The sight of you—the woman he loves, the mother of his child, the one carrying their second—hits him harder than he thought it would. Something about seeing his family, all here, waiting for him, fills his heart to the brim. His throat tightens, and before he can stop it, he feels the burn of tears behind his eyes.

"You came to pick me up?" His voice cracks, and he immediately feels a bit ridiculous, blinking away the moisture threatening to spill over.

You nod, your smile warm and knowing as you step closer. "We couldn’t wait to see you," you say softly, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek.

He closes his eyes at your touch, leaning into it, savoring the warmth of your skin against his. Byeol wriggles in his arms, pulling back to look at him with a beaming smile.

"We missed you, Daddy," she says, her bright eyes reflecting her joy.

"I missed you too, shining star," Minho says, his voice thick with emotion.

You step into his other side, wrapping your arms around both of them, and he feels it—the peace, the love, the sense of home that he’s been missing. His arms tighten around you both, holding onto the moment, grounding himself in the comfort of your presence.

It’s not just relief from the long trip or the exhaustion of work; it’s the realization of how much his heart aches when he’s away from you two. Being here, now, with his family, everything else fades.

"I’m home," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the airport.

"And we’re so glad you are," you reply, your lips brushing against his cheek as you pull him into a deeper embrace.

For a moment, he lets himself feel it all—the happiness, the gratitude, the love. His family, his home, right here in his arms.

-

Minho is finally home.

Everything feels familiar, but there’s an undeniable shift in the air. His eyes sweep across the apartment, noticing the small yet significant changes—there’s a crib in the corner of the bedroom now, baby clothes draped over the armchair, bottles, and toys beginning to clutter spaces that once held nothing but the quiet simplicity of your shared life. A reminder that soon, his family will grow by one more.

He makes his way into the bathroom where you're standing at the sink, gently rubbing cream on your face. He watches you through the mirror for a moment, taking in how radiant you look, despite the exhaustion he knows you've been feeling. You catch his gaze and smile softly.

"Getting bigger," Minho comments, his eyes tracing your reflection as he walks up behind you.

At first, you assume he's talking about your growing belly, especially with how close you are to your due date. But when his hands slide around your front, you burst into laughter as they make their way up to cup your breasts.

"Just how you like them, huh?" you tease, glancing at him in the mirror with a grin.

He smirks, placing a sweet kiss on your neck. "Always," he murmurs against your skin. But then, with a softer smile, his hands move down to your belly, cradling it from underneath, lifting it gently as though taking some of the weight off you.

You let out a small, relieved moan, closing your eyes as you lean back into him. "Why can't you do this for me every day?" you joke, though the gratitude in your voice is clear.

It’s been months of carrying this weight, of swollen feet and sleepless nights. And yet, somehow, in these small moments with him, it all feels worth it.

Minho presses his lips to your shoulder, lingering in the warmth of your skin. "I missed you," he whispers, but it’s not just missing you physically. There’s a depth to his words, like he’s been holding his breath, and now that he’s back, he can finally exhale.

His lips trail down to the crook of your neck, and before long, you find yourself in the bedroom, lying on your back, your head resting on the pillow as he hovers above you. His movements are gentle, careful, as he enters you. Not too deep, just enough to feel you, to remind himself of what it’s like to be with you this way.

You laugh softly, a contented sound that fills the room. "I can’t see it, but it feels so good," you say, your hands tracing the lines of his tattoos, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers.

Minho smiles, his heart swelling at your touch, your voice. He moves slowly, cautiously, not wanting to push too far, not wanting to hurt you or the baby. His hands brace beside you, propped against the mattress, keeping himself steady.

Your hands find his face, pulling him down to kiss you, and he’s lost in the sensation of your lips against his, the sound of your quiet moans urging him on. He missed this — missed the intimacy, the connection, the feeling of being one with you.

"Honey," he breathes, his voice thick with longing. He presses his lips to your neck, your chest, savoring every inch of you.

You moan his name softly, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him, and that’s all it takes for Minho to reach his release, his body tensing as he comes, his seed spilling inside you. He pulls out just a second too late, but he doesn’t care. In this moment, all that matters is you, the life you’ve built together, and the one growing between you.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leans down to kiss you deeply. When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, your eyes locked on his. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that surprises you, and it hits you just how much this moment means to him.

The weight of his emotions threatens to overwhelm him, but Minho lets it all out, lets himself feel it all as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice low and raw.

"I love you too," you reply, your voice filled with all the love you’ve carried for him through the years, through the ups and downs, the changes and the constants.

Tears slip down your cheeks as you kiss him again, both of you lost in the tenderness of the moment, the unspoken promise that no matter what, you’ll always have each other.

-

Minho doesn't have much to do around the house as you’ve already tackled most of the chores. He knows you like to keep yourself busy, but watching you move around, especially with the baby almost here, makes him a little anxious. Seeing you now, carrying a full laundry basket down the stairs, only increases his concern.

“Slow down, or you’re going to piss your pants again,” Minho teases, leaning against the doorframe.

You chuckle, setting the basket down on the carpet. “I’m doing alright, honey,” you assure him, lowering yourself onto the sofa with a small sigh.

Before you can start folding the laundry, Minho steps in and grabs the basket from you. “Nope. Not today,” he says, replacing the basket with a plate of sliced fruits. “Take a break. You can do the laundry later.”

You sigh in defeat but take the plate from him, nibbling on a piece of apple dipped in peanut butter. While you sit back and relax, Minho quickly handles the laundry, but when he returns, he catches you making another attempt to escape.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“I don’t want to piss my pants again,” you shout with a laugh, already halfway to the bathroom.

Minho shakes his head with a grin and waits in the living room until you come back. But when you return, your expression isn’t playful anymore—it’s tense, and there’s a weird look on your face.

"You didn’t make it to the bathroom right on time?" Minho jokes, trying to keep things light.

You sit slowly on the sofa and lean back, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure… but I think… I just lost the mucus plug,” you say, biting your lip.

Minho feels the tension in his chest as your words sink in. Though he stays calm, he knows what this means. It’s one of the first signs that labor is near, and while he doesn’t want to alarm you, he’s on high alert now.

He moves closer, his hand gently resting on your belly. "Are you okay? Do you feel any pain?"

"My back is always in pain,” you answer with a sigh, “but I’m good for now."

"Should we get ready to go to the hospital?" Minho asks, his hand moving to rub your lower back in soothing circles.

“It could be a false alarm,” you say with a faint smile, “but just in case, yes.”

Minho nods, appreciating how calm you’re trying to stay. Luckily, thanks to your meticulous planning, the hospital bags were packed weeks ago. All he has to do is grab them from the closet and put them in the car.

"Do you want to go now?" he asks as he notices that you've been getting contractions.

You nod but don’t say anything, your expression showing you’re trying to breathe through the pain.

The drive to the hospital feels like an eternity, even though Minho is breaking every speed limit. He glances over at you, your hand resting protectively over your belly, your breathing uneven as you try to power through the contractions. He reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it gently.

“We’re almost there,” he reassures you, his voice is calm but tight with worry.

Minutes later, you’re arrived at the hospital. Nurses are already waiting with a wheelchair, and Minho quickly helps you into it. His worry is more apparent on his face now.

"It’s going to be okay," you tell him as you squeeze his hand.

"I know," he says, flashing you a faint yet genuine smile.

Your journey through labor has begun, and Minho is right by your side, ready for whatever comes next.

-

After labor, you drift in and out of consciousness for what feels like hours. It isn’t until the nurse enters your room to check on you that you start to come around, your senses slowly gathering themselves.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” the nurse apologizes softly, noticing your eyes flutter open.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you say with a weak but warm smile. Your body feels heavy, but there’s a lightness in your heart knowing what’s coming next.

Shortly after, they bring you a meal to help you regain some strength. Hospital food is always hit or miss—sometimes it’s surprisingly good, other times it’s bland. But today, the pudding is exactly what you need, a small but satisfying comfort.

Minho had to leave to handle a few things at home and will return soon with Byeol. For now, you’re alone, savoring the quiet until the nurse returns, this time pushing the bassinet small into the room. Your heart skips, and a soft smile pulls at your lips, knowing you’re about to meet your baby again.

When you first met your little one in the operating room, it had all been a blur—tears, sweat, and a whirlwind of pain. You hadn’t been able to focus through the intensity of it all. But now, as the nurse gently settles the bassinet beside your bed, the moment feels much more real.

“You might want to start with breastfeeding initiation,” the nurse suggests kindly, helping you get comfortable before carefully placing the baby in your arms.

“Thank you,” you mutter, your voice soft, eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in your arms. His little face is peaceful, his cheeks flushed and warm. As soon as the nurse leaves, it truly hits you: he’s yours. This little boy was inside of you just hours ago, and now, he’s here, cradled against your chest.

“So it’s you, huh?” you murmur in awe, brushing your finger along his tiny hand. “The one who’s been kickboxing inside mommy’s tummy?”

His tiny forehead crinkles, and your heart swells as a tear slips down your cheek. He’s so beautiful. Fragile, yet so full of life. You can’t stop smiling through the tears, utterly captivated by him. Then, he lets out a soft cry, his little face scrunching up. You remember what the nurse said about breastfeeding and shift him into position, unsure if you’re even producing milk yet.

It takes a moment, but he begins to nurse, and the world seems to still around you. You forgot how intimate this moment feels—how sacred it is to have your baby so close, sharing this connection. As he feeds, the overwhelming emotions settle deeper into your chest, filling you with love, gratitude, and an inexplicable sense of completeness.

Not long after, the quiet of the room is broken by a familiar voice.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Byeol calls, her excitement spilling into the room as she bursts through the door.

You glance up and see her little feet moving quickly toward you. “Oh, honey, you’re finally here!” you exclaim, a broad smile breaking across your face. “Mommy missed you.”

“I missed you too, Mommy!” Byeol beams up at you before holding up something in her hands—a small, stuffed bunny.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously, your heart swelling as Minho steps into the room behind her, his eyes locking onto yours. He’s holding your hand before you know it, the unspoken emotions passing between you as you both look down at the baby in your arms.

“This is for the baby!” Byeol announces proudly, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

“That’s so nice of you, honey,” you say, feeling tears prick your eyes again, this time from the tenderness of the moment. “Come sit next to Mommy.”

You shift over on the bed to make room for Byeol, and Minho helps her climb up. Once she’s seated beside you, her gaze locks onto her baby brother, her little hands twitching, eager but hesitant to touch him.

“He’s so tiny, Mommy,” she giggles, eyes wide with wonder.

“Do you want to hold him?” you ask softly.

Byeol glances at Minho as if seeking permission, then nods at you, her smile growing. Together, you and Minho help her hold the baby carefully, cradling his weight between her small arms and your supportive hands.

“Meet your little brother, Haneul,” you whisper, introducing the two of them for the very first time.

Byeol’s eyes light up as she gazes down at him, the gentle awe never leaving her face. After a moment, she bravely reaches out and pokes his chubby cheek. “He’s so squishy!” she declares, making you laugh softly.

“You can kiss him if you want,” you encourage.

Without hesitation, Byeol leans forward and plants a sweet kiss on Haneul’s cheek, giggling as she pulls back. “He’s so cute, Mommy,” she whispers, resting her head close to him, her protective little arms still cradling him carefully.

Your heart feels like it might burst at the sight of them together—your children. You squeeze Minho’s hand, overcome by the love you feel for your family. As you turn to look at him, tears glisten in your eyes, but they’re happy tears—grateful, joyful tears.

Minho smiles softly, a quiet understanding in his eyes. He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

In this moment, everything feels perfect. Your family has grown, and with this new little life, your world feels more whole than ever before.

-

For the rest of the day, both your families come to visit you at the hospital, offering congratulations and warmth to the new addition to your family. As the evening settles in, the Oddinary arrive, right after the tattoo parlor has closed for the day. Their familiar presence fills the room, bringing laughter, chatter, and of course, food. They even bring pizzas to celebrate the occasion.

As Sujin gently holds little Haneul in her arms, she studies him with an appraising look while Felix peers over her shoulder in awe.

“Babies are ugly, but this one…” Sujin starts, narrowing her eyes playfully as she shifts Haneul in her arms, “…this one is beautiful. Props to you, girl!” She flashes you a proud, almost approving smile.

“Thank you,” you manage to respond, cheeks flushed as you take another bite of pizza, appreciating the warmth of her compliment.

Minho, feeling somewhat left out, leans back in his chair and shoots Sujin a mock offended look. “No props to me?”

Sujin doesn’t miss a beat, throwing him a teasing glare. “She’s the one who carried him for nine months.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Which is kind of unfair,” you add. “I carried him for nine months, and he came out looking just like his dad.”

Minho had never been overly concerned with whether the baby was a boy or girl—he’d love them no matter what. But when he saw Haneul for the first time, he was struck by just how much the baby resembled him. It had been a delightful surprise, one he hadn’t expected but welcomed wholeheartedly.

Felix, ever curious, rubs a tattooed finger gently over Haneul’s cheek, marveling at how soft the baby’s skin is. But Haneul’s reaction is immediate—his tiny face scrunches up, and he starts to cry.

Felix’s eyes go wide in surprise, his hands freezing in place. “Why did you touch the baby with your greasy hands?” Sujin hisses at him, swatting at his arm.

“I— I didn’t mean to!” Felix stammers, holding up his hands in surrender, his face a mix of guilt and panic.

“It’s okay,” you laugh, waving off the commotion. “It’s about time I feed him anyway.” You finish your slice of pizza quickly and hold out your arms, signaling for Sujin to hand Haneul back to you.

Sujin carefully places the still-crying baby in your arms, and as you begin to unbutton the front of your shirt, everyone else takes it as their cue to leave the room.

“We’ll give you some privacy,” Sujin announces with a smirk before gathering the rest of the Oddinary. Felix, still looking slightly guilty, waves awkwardly as he trails behind the others.

Once Minho sent everyone off on their way, he takes a minute to call his parents to check on Byeol. She’ll be staying with them until you’re discharged from the hospital. When he returns, he’s greeted by the sight of you cradling Haneul in your arms, a soft, loving expression on your face. In this moment, with the room bathed in the gentle glow of the hospital lights, you look absolutely radiant to him. He’s struck by how serene and beautiful you seem, completely immersed in your maternal role.

Without a word, Minho moves to tidy up the room, throwing away the empty pizza boxes and soda cans before washing his hands. Then, he comes to sit beside you on the bed, leaning in to get a closer look at your son.

“He’s so beautiful,” you whisper, your eyes glancing up at Minho with a smile.

“He has your eyes, your lips…” you murmur as you gently caress Haneul’s cheek with your knuckle. You pause, then give his tiny nose a playful boop. “Even your nose.”

A wide smile spreads across your face as you bring Haneul a little closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I think I’ve fallen in love…” you admit, your voice filled with quiet wonder.

Minho watches you closely, recognizing that you’ve been wearing that same smile ever since you first laid eyes on Haneul. He knows he feels the same, though he’s always been better at concealing his emotions. Still, he can’t hide the warmth that spreads through his chest as he watches you with your son.

Just then, Haneul begins to coo softly, his tiny hand rubbing at his face, his features scrunching up again as if he’s about to cry.

“You want Daddy, mmh?” you guess softly, glancing up at Minho before carefully handing Haneul over to him.

Minho quickly sits beside you, taking Haneul into his tattooed arms. It’s only the second time he’s held his son today, the first being the moment of skin-to-skin contact just after Haneul was born. As Minho holds him now, he’s struck again by how small and delicate the baby feels in his arms.

You wrap your arm around Minho’s waist, resting your chin gently on his shoulder. Together, you both gaze down at Haneul, your hearts overflowing with love and gratitude for this little life you’ve brought into the world.

You press a soft kiss to Minho’s neck and murmur, “We made that.”

Minho turns his head to look at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “We made it,” he echoes softly.

As Minho holds Haneul close, a sense of responsibility settles over him. The weight of being a father to two now, of being a husband and the head of a growing family—it all becomes real in this quiet moment. He knows that he must strive to be the best father, the best husband, the best version of himself for you, for Byeol, and now for Haneul. And as he looks back at you, the love he feels for you both is unmistakable, filling him with an unshakable sense of purpose.

-

It's another day in Minho’s life, except that his routine has shifted just a bit, revolving around the new addition to the family. For Minho to keep up with the tattoo parlor during the day, you insisted on taking care of baby Haneul during the night, allowing him the rest he needs. Yet, Minho can’t help but sacrifice some of his sleep to wake up earlier than usual, cherishing these moments with his newborn son.

As always, he begins his morning by cuddling up to you. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek before slowly slipping out of bed. His first stop is Haneul’s crib, where the baby sleeps soundly, his tiny mouth making faint sucking motions as if he’s dreaming of breastfeeding. Minho smiles at the sight—how peaceful, how precious.

After washing up, Minho moves to prepare a bath for Haneul. His hands, trained from years of precise work as a tattoo artist, move skillfully as he fills the tub. His calm and steady touch proves invaluable during moments like this. Even when Haneul wakes up, startled and crying from the disturbance, Minho remains calm.

"It’ll be done soon," Minho murmurs softly, his voice soothing as he bathes his son.

Once Haneul is clean and dressed, Minho already has a bottle of breastmilk prepared to settle him back down. He cradles him gently in his arms, swaying and lulling him back to sleep as he feeds, planting a gentle kiss on his son’s cheek. Soon enough, Haneul’s little eyes flutter closed again, and Minho carefully places him back into the crib, brushing a hand over his soft hair before moving on with his morning routine.

Minho heads to the kitchen, starting with a cup of coffee to fuel the rest of his tasks. He waters the plants, then begins cooking breakfast. His steady rhythm in the kitchen feels like second nature now—cooking for the family has become one of his favorite parts of the day. He doesn’t forget to prepare Byeol’s lunch either, tucking in a little note with a doodle like he always does.

Just as he’s finishing up, you emerge from the bedroom, looking sleepy but determined to join him for breakfast.

"You stopped asking what's for breakfast," Minho remarks with a smile as he plates the food, setting it on the table for you.

"At this point, I’ll just eat whatever you give me," you reply, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips.

Minho chuckles, leaning down to place a kiss on your temple. It’s these little moments, the small exchanges that feel so intimate and warm, that fill him with a sense of contentment.

Soon, Byeol comes bounding into the dining room, full of energy and eager to tell you both about her excitement for school. As she slides into her chair, she chatters on about her favorite subject and what she can’t wait to learn today. Minho listens, glancing over at you with a small smile, feeling like these moments of normalcy are truly where life happens.

When it’s time to leave for school, Byeol rushes over to give you a big hug and kiss before heading to Haneul’s crib to say her goodbyes to her little brother. Minho watches the scene with pride swelling in his chest. He’s always been amazed by how naturally Byeol has taken to being a big sister.

Minho doesn’t leave without his own goodbye. He pulls you close, pressing a quick but loving kiss to your lips.

“See you soon,” he murmurs softly, his forehead brushing against yours for a moment before he stands, guiding Byeol towards the door.

"Bye, bye, Mommy!" Byeol chirps, waving as Minho holds the door open for her.

"Have a great day at school, my shining star!" you call back, waving with a smile that’s tired but full of love.

As Minho buckles Byeol into the car and starts the drive to school, he finds himself reflecting on how different his life is now. It’s not the grand gestures or the monumental events that have shaped him, but rather the small, quiet moments like this—breakfast with his family, goodbyes before school, the peaceful early morning routine with his son.

These little slices of heaven, day after day, are what fill his heart with gratitude. And in these moments, he knows there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

-

Motherhood is exhausting.

It’s not just the lack of sleep or the endless list of physical discomforts. There’s the emotional rollercoaster no one warns you about—the way joy and sadness seem to come in waves, sometimes crashing over you when you least expect it. After Haneul was born, you were overwhelmed by the strangeness of no longer carrying him in your belly, missing the sensation of him kicking even as you held him in your arms. It’s a bittersweet adjustment.

But Minho makes it easier. He’s always there, making sure you never feel alone. He doesn't hover, but his presence is steady, and the little gestures of love—his way of checking in on you, or simply wrapping you up in his arms—give you a sense of comfort. Today is no different.

As you change your clothes, Minho catches you in the act, watching from the edge of the bed. You’re in the middle of swapping out a blouse, frustrated as your breast milk has leaked through again.

"You look good today," Minho says casually, a sly grin forming on his lips as he admires you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I smell like a mix of sweat, barf, and diaper disasters.”

His smirk is playful. “Exactly my type.”

You finish buttoning your blouse and turn to face him. Despite everything your body’s been through—stretch marks, swollen feet, exhaustion—he looks at you like he always has, with a mixture of admiration and affection that never wavers. It’s comforting.

"Come here," he beckons, arms outstretched in invitation.

You don’t need to be told twice. You move into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he pulls you close. His lips find yours, a slow, affectionate kiss that lingers, melting away the day’s fatigue.

"I guess you also smell like desperation," Minho teases as he places a kiss on your neck, his voice a low murmur against your skin.

You gently slap his chest in protest, half-heartedly. "You’re so annoying."

He only smirks and kisses you again, this time more softly. It’s moments like these that remind you why he’s your partner through all of this—his humor, his warmth, his ability to make you feel like yourself even when motherhood makes you feel anything but.

"How about I make lunch?" he asks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "What do you feel like?"

"Hmm... I’m starving," you sigh dramatically, leaning your head against his chest. "A big sandwich would be perfect."

"Big sandwich, got it," he replies with ease.

"And make sure you add lots of love." You laugh softly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Then it’s going to taste sour," he jokes, his hands sliding down to your waist.

You laugh, enjoying the easy banter. "I don’t mind that at all."

Minho kisses your cheek and makes a move to get up, but you tighten your arms around him, not ready to let him go just yet.

"No, stay," you whine, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "Let’s stay like this for a bit longer."

He chuckles softly and gives in, holding you closer. His tattooed arms wrap securely around you, the warmth of his body grounding you as the two of you sit quietly in the calm of the moment.

-

It’s surprising how often your baby boy needs to be fed throughout the day. As Haneul stirs in the other room, his soft cries reach your ears, and you let out a tired sigh.

“Alright, alright, give mommy a second,” you murmur, hurriedly unbuttoning your shirt. “You’re just as impatient as your daddy, huh?”

Minho enters the room again, Byeol trailing close behind him. She immediately clambers onto the bed, settling next to you and watching her baby brother feed.

"Honey, do you mind if I go out for a bit?" Minho asks, grabbing his wallet from the bedside table.

"Where to?" you ask, opening your arm for Byeol to snuggle into.

"Need to grab something from the convenience store," he answers, pulling on his jacket.

"Okay," you say, a bit distracted by Haneul feeding.

"I won't be long," he assures you, walking over to plant a kiss on the top of your head and giving Byeol a quick tickle, which sends her into giggles.

Once Minho leaves, Byeol settles beside you, gently playing with Haneul’s tiny fingers.

“Mommy, the baby’s here now,” she says thoughtfully, her small fingers brushing over Haneul’s tiny hands. “Does that mean you’ll go back to work soon?”

“Well, yes,” you answer carefully, “but not too soon.”

She looks up at you with wide, curious eyes. “Can mommy stay home every day?”

Her innocent question tugs at your heart. You hadn’t realized how much she missed these moments with just the two of you. You blink away the sudden sting of tears and stroke her hair gently.

“There’s nothing I’d love more than staying home with you and your brother, but there are people out there who need mommy’s help,” you explain softly. “And if I can help them, I should, right?”

Byeol contemplates this for a moment, her young mind trying to understand the bigger picture. Finally, she nods. “Right.”

You lean in and press a soft kiss to her forehead as you say, “But no matter what, mommy will always be here—driving you to school, watching your soccer practices, getting burgers at the drive-thru, painting our nails together.”

She beams at that, her smile making your heart swell and you continue with the most important thing you want her to know, “And mommy will always love you. So much.”

“I love you too, mommy,” she whispers, resting her head against your chest.

You hold her close, savoring the tender moment. “You’ll always be mommy’s brightest star.”

When Byeol finally drifts to sleep beside you and Haneul’s feeding comes to an end, you find yourself unable to move without disturbing them. Minho comes back into the room, his smile softening when he sees you snuggled with both children.

“I’ll carry her to bed,” he whispers, gently lifting Byeol in his arms and carrying her off to her room.

Relieved, you carefully place Haneul in his crib, your body aching from the long day. As Minho returns, he notices you massaging the back of your neck and quickly steps behind you to help, his strong hands working out the tension in your shoulders.

“Honey, I know you’re tired, but...” he begins, his voice low and soft, “Can we talk for a few minutes?”

You tense at his words, immediately wondering if something’s wrong. “Depends on what you want to talk about,” you joke, trying to mask your unease. “Is it about a secret gambling debt or a dead body you keep in the trunk of your car?”

Minho laughs, burying his face in your neck. “Close, but not quite.”

Curious, you follow him to the kitchen, your tired mind racing with possibilities. It’s not until you see the cake sitting on the table that you realize—it’s his birthday. And you forgot.

"Oh no, it’s your birthday," you whisper, feeling a wave of guilt crash over you.

"It’s not yet," Minho reassures, pulling you into his arms. His smile is soft, teasing, but without any hint of disappointment.

You bury your face in his chest, tears of exhaustion and guilt welling up in your eyes. "I’m so sorry," you sob, embarrassed that you, of all people, forgot his birthday.

Minho holds you tight, his hands gently stroking your back. "There’s nothing to be sorry about, honey," he murmurs against your hair. "I just wanted to celebrate with you."

He tilts your chin up, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "Are you really going to cry on my birthday?" he asks with a playful smirk.

You sniffle, managing a small smile. "No."

Together, you light the candles, your heart swelling with gratitude for the way he handles moments like this—with patience, understanding, and love. When the clock strikes midnight, you cheerily announce, "It's officially your birthday!"

Minho closes his eyes and makes a wish, his hand still holding yours. After he blows out the candles, you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

"Happy birthday, honey," you say, planting a long, chaste kiss on his lips and when you pull back, you softly apologize, "I’m sorry I don’t have a gift for you, yet."

"You’ve given me more than I could ever ask for," Minho whispers, pulling you even closer.

His hands cup your face, and you can see the depth of his emotions in his eyes. "You gave me a family, two beautiful children... I can’t thank you enough for giving me this life."

His words are simple but filled with so much emotion that tears well up in your eyes again. You kiss him softly, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you—the love, the gratitude, the life you’ve built together.

"Oh, honey," you reply, your voice trembling as you cradle his face.

Minho kisses you again, slower this time, savoring every moment. "I promise I’ll always make you happy," he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.

"You already do, Minho," you whisper back. "Every single day."

His lips press against yours once more as he mutters, "I love you."

"I love you," you reply, your heart aching with happiness.

He kisses you again, the moment full of tenderness and gratitude but when he pulls back, he gives you a cheeky grin. “So... can I blow you next?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes at his predictable humor. “Be careful, or you’ll be a father of three on your next birthday.”

Minho smirks, pulling you closer. “I'm okay with that.”

As you hold him, encased in the warmth of his love, you realize once again that no matter how hard motherhood or life gets, you could only do this with him by your side. With Minho, you can weather any storm, face any challenge, and still feel like you’re the luckiest person in the world.

With him, you can do anything.

-

The parlor has just closed when the Oddinary guys barge in, loud and excited, with a birthday cake in hand. Minho knows he can’t stop them—even if he wanted to. Once they set their minds to something, there's no talking them out of it. After all, they’re his family, long before he made and built his own.

He sighs, watching as they gather in the living room, the cake’s candles glowing warmly. Felix takes charge, lighting them with a wide grin. Minho leans back on the sofa, not exactly thrilled to be the center of attention on a day he prefers to keep low-key. The only reason he even humored celebrating last night was because he didn’t want you to feel bad for almost forgetting.

You plop down next to him, startling him out of his thoughts. Without a word, you hand him a fresh bottle of beer, and he gladly accepts it, his arm naturally wrapping around you, pulling you close to his side.

The noise in the room fades into the background as you nestle against him, the warmth of your presence grounding him. Your eyes flick to Sujin, who’s sitting across from you, gently cradling baby Haneul in her arms. You smile softly, a thought forming in your mind.

“I don’t want to impose, but Sujin...” you begin, your tone casual yet filled with meaning. “I think you’re ready.”

Sujin’s brow furrows in confusion as she shifts Haneul slightly, the tattoo on her neck straining as she leans forward. “Ready for what?”

Minho chuckles lightly, his voice laced with amusement. “You know what she meant,” he quips, shooting a playful smirk at Sujin.

Her husband, seated beside her, grins. “As for me, I’m just waiting for her.”

Sujin’s head snaps toward him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. A slow smile begins to bloom on her face, softening her features as she glances back down at Haneul.

Minho shifts his focus to his daughter, Byeol, who’s sitting on the carpeted floor, caught between Felix and Yoon as they try to win her over. These two are in an animated debate, vying for her favor.

“Do you like Auntie Yoon more or Uncle Felix more?” Yoon asks, her voice filled with childlike curiosity, blissfully unaware of the intensity behind the question.

Minho knows this is one of those questions none of them is ever truly prepared to hear the answer to.

Byeol giggles, taking her time as if she’s carefully considering her options. After a long minute, she finally answers, “Uncle Felix!”

“I knew it!” Felix cheers in triumph, throwing his arms around Byeol and pulling her onto his lap.

Yoon, feigning disbelief, shakes her head. “No, I think Byeol isn’t taking enough time to think. I demand a retake!”

Felix, quick to defend his newfound title, presses his hands over Byeol’s ears. “No, you’re just jealous. Boooo!” he teases, sticking his tongue out and making silly faces at Yoon.

Minho fights the urge to smile, watching them act childish as usual. This kind of chaos—this kind of love—is something he cherishes, even if he’d never admit it out loud. Then, he turns his head, his gaze falling on you.

You haven’t changed. Not really. But at the same time, you have. It’s something subtle, something only he can see. A kind of growth and quiet strength that has always been there but now shines even brighter.

Some things will never change, though. Like the way you’re his anchor, the force that holds him down and keeps him steady. You’re the source of his strength and his love, the one person he trusts with every part of himself—and he knows you feel the same about him. And best of all, you’ll always be his.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask, sensing the intensity in his gaze.

The noise around them swirls, but for Minho, in this moment, it’s just the two of you. He shakes his head slightly, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, letting the kiss convey what words can’t.

With the new addition to his family, the house feels crowded—maybe even too crowded. He glances around the room, taking in the sight of his daughter laughing with Felix and Yoon, his son sleeping peacefully in Sujin’s arms, and the people who have been by his side since the beginning. His home is growing. It’s crowded, noisy, chaotic—but it’s home.

For now, this is enough. This is everything. This is home.

-

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[wanderingwittch]

When Rejection Stings: A Personal Anecdote

“May time reveal to you that what felt like rejection was actually divine protection. May the perspective that comes from hindsight transform regret to relief."

This quote felt way too personal; uncertain on how do I express it's depth. It felt as if a long-buried wound was suddenly open causing an intense, uncontrollable flow of emotions, like blood splattering everywhere. Few days ago, something happened to me. I felt vulnerable and the house that I had created for myself, filled with specific people broke down to pieces. While I realized, I could reach out to them, I received a harsh rebuff. I felt more wounded than before, as if I were scarred for life. I usually don't take things to heart, but this felt like a deep wound and a betrayal.

It's like standing in the rain, getting completely drenched, waiting for someone to come to you with an umbrella, only to realize they never intended to come. That perfectly captures the depth of my feelings—something no one seems to understand. These are the people who swore they would always be by your side, who promised never to leave you—only to leave you scarred. And they aren't even apologetic about it. You know something was definitely wrong in how you were treated, but you can't get anyone's attention because no one feels accountable for their actions. Everyone spins a different version of the story where they are the hero, making you question your own reality. Maybe that's what I call gaslighting at its best.

The Initial Shock

The initial shock was brutal. It felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me. I was thrown into a panic frenzy by the insensitivity I faced.

And then you hear statements like:

"Talking to you feels like walking on eggshells."

"I don’t even know what would make you cry. My words usually hurt like a sting, and I'm not one to forgive easily."

It's as if hurting others is worn as a badge of pride nowadays, while sensitive people like us are laughed for being labeled as cry-babies. I've heard this throughout my life—since childhood—and now it's even harder to bear because as an adult, you're expected to be stoic. You're not supposed to feel much, or at the very least, you're expected to manage your emotions maturely. The sharp stab in the back, the pain, and the sense of helplessness all seem to slip away, becoming elusive to your mind.

The Hurt and The Anger

Whenever I experience pain, I also feel anger from the shock, because that's my body's signal to show that something has gone wrong. However, my anger is often mistaken for ego, and suddenly, I'm expected to shut down my emotions. The panic, the frenzy, the flood of emotions—all of it becomes so overwhelming that all I can feel is the gnawing pain in my chest.

How could they? They were supposed to be your perfect sanctuary, someone you could rely on during the storms, earthquakes, or any challenging moments. Instead, they let you down.

And that's when you realize that people will inevitably let you down. They may not always understand where you're coming from. Sometimes, walls are necessary to fortify yourself, and that's where I've learned the lesson of resilience. You can't expect people to be your refuge, because like everyone else, they may not be prepared to face your battles with you. They might already be bruised and in need of rest, or they could be overwhelmed just like you are.

It's certainly a dark place to find oneself, but looking back, I believe everything I felt served a purpose—a spiritual lesson that I wasn't prepared to confront at the time.

Reflecting on the experience

The inner dialogue with myself made me realize one thing—how much I focused on others while neglecting my own ability to cope. My worth and self-respect were completely tied to how others treated me. I failed to recognize the signs. While I know the initial phase of dealing with this will be incredibly tough, I believe that if I emerge from this, I may discover a new version of myself. It's a bitter truth to accept, but people can't be our homes. We are responsible for building our own fortresses. We make them beautiful and inviting, but we must not mistake the visitors for places meant to last forever. Perhaps that's the lesson I'm learning.

Some days will be dark, while others will feel like rays of hope. I know that slowly, I will begin to heal. It's necessary to pick up the pieces and continue on this journey called life. It's tough but essential for regaining strength. While the scars remain, I see them as proof of my resilience. And in doing so, it's important to forgive those who have hurt me. I believe that people hurting others often reflects their own inner struggles, and most of the time, it has nothing to do with the person they hurt. Therefore, I won't hold onto hurt, anger, or seek revenge—because despite letting me down, these people were there for me during important moments. They helped shape the wise person I like to think I am today. Perhaps this experience is urging me to change something within myself, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to heal and reclaim my life, seeking peace of mind once more.

Why did I write all this here? It started as a personal vent, a way to process my emotions. Yet, as I wrote, I felt I might be speaking for many who have felt abandoned by loved ones. So many may have felt they deserved mistreatment, which is the hardest feeling to endure. Through my words, I want others to know it may not be their fault. While painful, there is also room for growth. It might be the opportunity to discover a stronger version of oneself through resilience.

So vent, scream into the void—but once done, please pick yourself up and keep moving forward. Because you are worth it. The world may be waiting for you to shine brightly like a polished diamond.