#but he KNOWS we'll do it as soon as it's not snowing

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent

[mzannthropy]

My Top 4 Sam Claflin films

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Lol. Lmao even.

[pitlanepeach]

The Long Way Home I Chapter Seven

Oscar Piastri x Harper Grace (OFC)

Summary — When Harper, a kind girl with a guarded heart, meets rising karting star Oscar Piastri at their English boarding school, sparks fly.

It only takes one silly moment of teenaged love for their lives to change forever.

Warnings — Teenage love, growing up together, falling in love, teen pregnancy, no explicit scenes when the characters are underaged (obviously??), strong language, manipulative parents, past death of a parent, dyscalculia, hardly any angst, slice-of-life basically!

Notes — Surprise update! Yes, it's 1am and this is the longest chapter so far. Shhh. I'm craving porridge (is it the boarding school nostalgia? Probably)!

Wattpad Link | Series Masterlist

They lay side by side in Oscar's narrow bed, Harper curled into his chest like she was trying to disappear into him. The radiator in the corner clicked every few minutes, rattling weakly like it was barely holding the heat hostage.

Sam was snoring softly in the other bed, back turned, face half-buried in his pillow. He hadn't asked many questions when Harper had climbed through the window earlier in her socks and school jumper. Just lifted his head, blinked once, and mumbled, "She staying?"

Oscar had nodded. Sam had grunted and rolled over.

Now, in the dark, the room felt small. Still. Safe, in that oddly teenage, temporary way — like nothing outside of it could reach them for a little while.

Harper's breath warmed the space between them. She shifted, tugging the scratchy blanket higher over her shoulders.

"I think I'm going to start showing soon," she whispered, voice barely there.

Oscar didn't say anything right away. His hand rested against the small of her back, thumb moving slow, calming circles just under the hem of her sweatshirt. He could feel the warmth of her skin and the tension still coiled beneath it.

"Maybe," he said eventually. "Dunno. Maybe not for a few more weeks."

"I'll need a new uniform skirt soon. Mine's tight."

"Headmaster said you could wear leggings if you wanted."

"I know." She exhaled sharply. "But I like wearing a skirt. And leggings'll just make people stare more than they already do."

Oscar winced slightly. "Yeah. Didn't take long for everyone to find out, did it?"

No. No, it hadn't.

It was late January now. They'd known about the baby for just over three weeks — and the school had known for at least two. She wasn't even sure how. Maybe someone overheard a call. Maybe someone read her expression too closely one morning in chapel. Or maybe it had just been Sam.

"Pretty sure it was your roommate," she murmured. "Can't keep a secret to save his life."

Oscar snorted under his breath. "Yeah. I love him, but he's hopeless."

She hummed. "I hate being stared at."

Oscar glanced down. Her voice had gone quiet again.

"I always hated it," she said. "Even before all this. The way people would look at me like I was some painting they want to own. It happened a lot when I was little. With my dad."

Oscar leaned in and kissed her forehead, slow and soft. "Then they don't get to look at you anymore," he said. "Just me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Possessive."

"Protective," he corrected, then blushed awkwardly.

That made her smile. She buried her face against his chest again.

Outside, snow tapped gently at the dorm window. The radiator clicked again.

After a long moment, she whispered, "I'm so relieved, you know. That you were okay with me... wanting to go through with this." Her voice wobbled. "I know it's mad. I know we're fifteen, and scared and it's going to make everything ten times harder than normal. But I think—" Her throat caught. "I think I already love it. The baby."

Oscar didn't move. For a second, she worried maybe he'd frozen. Maybe he'd changed his mind.

Then he nodded. Just once.

"Okay," he said.

She blinked up at him, eyes glossy. "Okay?"

"We'll make it work," he said. "Whatever you want, Harp. That's what we do. Already told you that, didn't I?"

She wiped her cheek with her sleeve, her breathing hitching. "You did."

For a while, they were quiet. Just the soft rise and fall of two bodies pressed together, trying to be brave.

Then, like a pebble dropped into still water, she asked, "What was it like? Growing up?"

Oscar looked at her. "Me?"

"No," she said, deadpan. "The other guy in this bed."

He laughed. "Alright. Cheeky." Then he shrugged. "I dunno. Normal? Mum made me packed lunches. Dad travelled a lot for work. I've had a hardcore obsession with cars since I was about two."

Harper smiled. "That's endearing."

"You?"

She made a soft, ambiguous noise in the back of her throat.

"Different," she said eventually. "My childhood didn't look like the ones on TV. There wasn't the little house on the end of the street with the dad in the driveway and the golden retriever named Biscuit. My dad... he was who he was. And my mum—her parents were rich, but Dad was something else."

"What was his title again?" Oscar asked gently.

"Officially? Duke of Northamptonshire."

Oscar hummed. "Like... an actual duke?"

"Mm-hmm." She didn't sound smug about it. She sounded tired. "Land, estates, racehorses. It was old money. Generational. My mum always wanted the fashion thing to stand on its own. But she married into the aristocracy and she'll never let anyone forget it."

Oscar was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, "What was he like? Your dad?"

She went still. Not tense. Just... still.

"He was kind," she said softly. "That's the word that sticks. Kind, and a bit soft around the edges. He never seemed like the aristocrat they wrote about in Tatler. He used to sing really badly when he made breakfast. Always wore old jumpers that smelled like stale coffee and barn hay. He taught me how to play chess. Bought me this ridiculous rocking horse when I was six because one of my friends had one in her nursery and I liked it."

Oscar didn't speak. Just kept tracing soft lines against her back.

"I don't think he really fit in with all of it," she said after a moment. "With the world he came from. He was born into it, but he didn't play the part very well. He cared more about people than image, and she my mum... She loved him, but she hated that: Said he was wasting his pedigree. Whatever that means."

"What happened?" Oscar asked. "I mean... after the crash. To you two. You and your mum."

Harper swallowed. "We inherited it all from him. The land and the estates and the horses. But it just... didn't feel right anymore. Maybe it never did. But my mum was in so much pain after losing him — I think I reminded her too much of him, you know? I was his kid in all the ways that mattered — and that didn't fit the mould she wanted for me."

Oscar was quiet for a long time.

Finally, he said, "I think he'd be proud of you. For standing up for yourself."

Harper blinked hard. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He sounds like someone who would appreciate that."

She let out a shaky breath and tucked her face against his collarbone.

The radiator clicked again.

They didn't say much after that.

—

The common room had that early-evening stink to it — heat trapped under polyester, Lynx Africa, and the vague aftersmell of instant noodles someone had overcooked in the microwave.

Harper sat curled up in the corner armchair, legs tucked under her. Oscar was on the floor beside her, stretched out, one knee bouncing, thumb skimming idly along the edge of her sock. She was pretending to revise for maths. Mostly just staring at the page, eyes glazed. Sam lay on the rug like a chalk outline, feet shoved under the coffee table. Alfie and Matt were slouched on the opposite sofa, playing some game on Matt's phone with the sound off. Jane was painting her nails with Tippex and a biro.

It was quiet in the way that only a room full of teenagers rooms could be — full of shifting bodies and chewing and low muttering and the occasional sigh, like the air itself was tired.

Across the room, near the vending machines, three Year Thirteen girls were clustered in a semicircle of swishy ponytails, fake eyelashes, and aggressively rolled-up skirts. They had that perpetual stink of Clinique Happy and entitlement.

"Bet she thinks she's some sort of martyr or summat," one of them said, too loud to be an accident. "Proper bitch, if you ask me."

"It was bound to happen, wasn't it? The Aussie's here for what, five minutes? And she's got her claws in him. Investment, innit."

One of them made a clucking noise. "Mad, really. Her mum's some fashion type but she still dresses like she shops in M&S. Thinks she's posh just 'cos of her dad's name; but he's just dust in a crypt somewhere."

"Fancy name, fancy voice, still just a fucking slag."

Oscar stilled like someone had pulled the handbrake on him mid-thought. Sam sat up with the kind of speed he usually reserved for food or FIFA.

Jane didn't even look away from her nails. "Fuck off."

The girls blinked.

"What?"

"You heard me," Jane said, standing now, holding the little brush like a weapon. "Shut the fuck up. And fuck off."

One of them gave a mocking little laugh. "Bit aggressive, aren't you?"

"Yeah, well," Jane said sweetly, "maybe if you weren't so fucking clapped, you'd be capable of getting laid. Then you wouldn't be so obsessed with the people who are."

Sam hauled himself to his feet and pointed a Dorito at them like it was a wand. "Cunts."

"Sam," Matt muttered, horrified.

"I said what I said," Sam declared, unfazed. "Cunts. Both of 'em."

Alfie barely looked up. "Don't stir it, mate. Let 'em chat shit. You know what they're like. They're just fucking jealous."

Oscar rose to his feet slowly. His face was blank, eyes fixed on the girls — no shouting, no swearing, but there was steel in his silence.

The ringleader rolled her eyes. "Didn't mean anything by it."

"Sure," Jane said, arms folded. "You just woke up and decided to be a bunch of silly cunts. Congrats."

The girls left in a huff of swished ponytails, gum-snapping, and muttered slurs.

Silence settled over the room again, heavy and a little awkward.

Sam flopped back down onto the rug like nothing had happened. "Well that was fun. Anyone wanna order a pizza to the gates?"

Harper hadn't said a word the whole time.

Oscar looked up at her. "You alright?"

She nodded, but it was the kind of nod that looked more like bracing herself than answering a question. "Girls being girls. Was bound to happen."

Jane plonked back onto the armrest beside her and sighed. "I'm gonna put Nair in their shampoo. Watch me."

Harper snorted.

"I don't need you guys to fight my battles for me," she said after a beat, voice low but steady.

"Nah," said Alfie, not looking up. "We know. But you're our mate, yeah? And mates have each other's backs."

Harper blinked. She hadn't expected that from Alfie. He looked mildly horrified that he'd said something sincere, and immediately buried himself back in the game on Matt's phone.

Oscar leaned into her leg again, grounding her.

"Are they like that a lot?" He asked.

Harper gave a tired little shrug. "Some of them. It's just—That's how it is, Osc. Rich girls aren't taught how to make friends. We're taught to win rooms. Be the most valued person in it. At whatever cost."

Oscar frowned, then rested his chin against her knee. "You're the most valued person in this room."

"Only 'cause Jane hasn't finished her nails yet."

"Whatever you say, Lady Harper." He teased, lightly.

Harper huffed and let her eyes fall closed for a second. The warmth of him against her leg. Jane's foot gently nudging hers. Sam's fake-sleep breathing. The way Alfie kept pretending not to look up, like he'd jump in again if needed.

It didn't make everything okay.

But it made right now a little easier to bear.

—

The radiators were rattling again. They did that now — made a sort of mechanical clunk every ten minutes, like they were choking on their own ancient pipes. Sam had taken to kicking it every time it made a noise. So far, that hadn't fixed it. But it seemed to make him feel better.

Harper sat cross-legged at the foot of Oscar's bed, a Biology workbook open across her lap, biro tucked behind one ear, hair tied up with the bobble she'd stolen from Jane last week. Her blazer was somewhere on the floor in a heap, beside a half-eaten KitKat, an empty Ribena carton, and a pair of socks that definitely didn't belong to her.

Oscar was leaning against the wall, legs stretched out, a notebook in his lap. He was chewing the end of his pen like it had personally wronged him. His hair was a disaster — slightly flattened on one side, sticking up on the other. He hadn't shaved in three days and still couldn't grow a real moustache.

Sam was draped across his own bed, limbs splayed like he'd been dropped from a great height, chemistry flashcards held above his head like he was trying to burn the knowledge into his retinas.

"Is it February?" Sam asked suddenly.

Oscar blinked. "Yeah. It's the sixth."

"Oh. Happy February."

Harper let out a tired breath of a laugh. "Valentine's Day soon. You got a crush on anyone, Sammy?"

"Nah," he muttered. "Fuck love."

"Romantic," she said, eyebrows raised.

Oscar snorted. "That's our Sam."

"Better than what I said last year," Sam mumbled. "Told Miss Patel I hoped she got some on Valentine's and nearly got kicked out of school."

Harper snorted. "Jesus."

Oscar chuckled. "Still remember the look on her face."

"Yeah, well. You try doing triple science with raging hormones and Miss Patel reading Of Mice and Men in that voice."

"She's literally almost fifty."

"Doesn't matter," Sam muttered. "Voice like silk. Made me believe in the American Dream."

Harper groaned and flopped backwards. "I hate this room."

"You're in here more than your own."

"No I'm not." She argued.

Sam pointed a crisp at her. "You've basically moved in."

"I have not."

"You have a toothbrush in our bathroom."

Harper looked mildly indignant. "So? Doesn't mean I live here."

"You've got socks in Oscar's drawer."

"I have socks in lots of places."

Oscar smirked, eyes still on his notebook. "Do you?"

"Shut up."

Harper shifted slightly, wincing as she adjusted the waistband of her skirt. It was new — a size bigger than her old one, but it didn't feel like it. Everything felt tighter lately. Her jumper was clinging weirdly at the chest too. She tugged it forward and stared down at the buttons on her shirt.

"My boobs are massive," she muttered.

Oscar looked up. Then down. Then immediately went bright red. "No comment."

"Pervert."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to." She narrowed her eyes at him.

Sam made a strangled noise. "Please. I'm trying to focus. I cannot be thinking about Harper's tits right now."

"Fuck you!" Harper shrieked. She grabbed one of Oscar's pillows and hurled it across the room. It hit Sam square in the face.

"Assault!" he yelped, throwing his arms up dramatically. "I've been attacked in my own home."

Oscar snorted, folding his notes shut. "You're lucky that's all she threw."

"You're both annoying," Harper muttered, trying not to smile.

Sam peeked at her from behind the pillow. "You alright though? You've been making that... face."

"What face?"

"The 'everything hurts and I hate everyone' face."

Harper made a face. "That's just my face."

Oscar glanced over at her, more seriously now. "Anything feel off?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm just... heavy. Tired. I don't know. Apparently the baby's the size of a raspberry this week."

Sam perked up. "You're growing fruit in there?"

"Metaphorical, you idiot."

Oscar leaned over and brushed a bit of lint off her shoulder. "You want to lie down?"

"I'm alright." She smiled, faintly. "I like sitting and pretending to revise with you two."

"Oi," Sam said, wounded. "I'm absorbing this information with sheer force of will."

"You're absorbing crisps. That's it."

Oscar gave a low laugh, then glanced at Harper. "Remember, my mum's coming this weekend."

Harper looked up. "Right. Yeah. I know."

She went still for a second — just a flicker, like something locking up behind her eyes — then flipped a page in her workbook, trying to look casual about it. But her voice had gone a little too careful.

Oscar noticed. Of course he did.

"She really wants to meet you," he said, softer now. "She's been asking since... well, since last September when we started going out. I know you've spoken to her on FaceTime but it's not, like, the same, is it."

Harper gave a small, lopsided smile. "She's not fuming, then?"

"What?" He looked genuinely confused.

"Osc." She sighed. Gave him a look. "About the baby. About the fact that I might be ruining your life?"

Oscar dropped his pen and sat up straighter, frowning. "Harps. You're not ruining anything."

Sam chimed in from his bed. "Nicole's literally a saint. She's lovely."

"She's not mad." Oscar said quietly. Leaned in and touched Harper's lips with his thumb, like he was trying to physically wipe the frown off of her face. "She was... shocked, at first. But she's doing better with it now. She's been knitting."

Harper blinked. "She knits?"

"Badly."

"I'm scared," Harper admitted, very quietly. "Like... really scared. What if she hates me?"

Oscar leaned forward, nudging her foot with his. "She won't. I promise. My mum's not like that. She already calls you 'little love' in texts."

Harper let out a shaky laugh. "Does she?"

"Yeah. Wants to take you out for tea. Thinks you need feeding up."

"I agree," Sam muttered. "She's had half a KitKat and one of my crisps."

"I'm nervous," Harper said, then glanced at Oscar. "Not about her being mean. Just... I want her to like me. She's your mum."

Oscar smiled gently. "She will."

"I'm not used to nice mums." She whispered.

He leaned in. Kissed her softly. "I'm sorry."

Sam gagged. "Can you two fucking stop? I'm trying to eat."

—

The gravel drive outside the school crunched under the tyres of a silver Volvo as it rolled to a stop near the visitor bays.

Oscar spotted it first from the common room window. "She's here."

Harper immediately stood up, then sat back down. "Okay. I feel sick."

Sam didn't look up from his flashcards. "Don't puke on her. First impressions and all that."

Oscar gave her hand a squeeze. "She's excited. Honestly, she keeps texting me pictures of tiny socks."

"I don't know how to talk to mums," Harper muttered. "Mine doesn't count for obvious reasons."

"You've FaceTimed with her."

"FaceTime is different. That's like... TV. This is real life. What if she doesn't like me in real life?"

Oscar stood and tugged gently at her sleeve. "Come on. You'll be fine. She's got biscuits."

"...what kind?"

"Don't know. Probably the ones she always buys that no one actually likes but we all pretend we do because they're posh."

Harper followed him out across the courtyard, heart rattling inside her chest like a loose marble. It was cold — the kind of sharp, bright February cold that made your breath cloud up instantly. Her school coat was unzipped and flapping around her knees. She hadn't even checked her hair. Christ.

Nicole stepped out of the car wearing a giant woollen scarf and sunglasses too big for her face, carrying a tote bag that looked like it had seen every grocery store in Hertfordshire. She was taller than Harper expected — tall in that mum way, where it was all good posture and sensible boots. Her hair was curly and dyed dark at the roots with stubborn greys she hadn't bothered to cover. And she had the exact same laugh as Oscar, Harper realised — loud and too delighted.

"There's my boy," Nicole said, pulling Oscar into a proper, swaying hug that lifted him slightly off the ground. "God, look at your hair. Have you been brushing it with a fork?"

Oscar muffled something into her shoulder, cheeks pink. "Mum."

"And you must be Harper."

Harper froze for a split second — then managed a small smile. "Hi."

Nicole took one look at her and pulled her straight into a hug.

Warm. Solid. Smelling of fabric softener and mint gum.

It knocked the air right out of her.

"I feel like I already know you," Nicole said when she pulled back. "You're even prettier in person. Not that you aren't gorgeous on FaceTime. But I always think those calls make everyone look like they've been filmed on a potato."

Harper blinked. "Oh. Um. Thanks?"

"I brought biscuits," Nicole added, digging around in her tote. "And a scarf. You don't own a decent one, apparently."

She held it out — it was knitted. Badly. Yellow and lumpy and soft.

Harper stared at it. Then at her. "You made this?"

"Well, I had help. There's a very patient woman on YouTube called Marion who saved my life." She grinned. "Go on, take it. It's hideous but it'll keep you warm."

Harper took the scarf. Her fingers tingled. It was the first homemade thing anyone had ever given her.

"Thanks," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Nicole just smiled and tucked a stray curl behind Harper's ear like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You doing alright, love?"

Harper nodded. She wasn't, really. Not completely. But for the first time in weeks, the knot in her chest eased just slightly.

Oscar slipped his hand into hers. "Told you," he murmured.

And Harper — still clutching the scarf, still blinking like she wasn't sure what just happened — smiled. "Yeah," she whispered back. "You did."

—

The library windows were sweating — misted over from the inside, the radiator below doing its very best to boil Harper's ankles.

She sat cross-legged on the floor between the Philosophy and Biology sections, highlighters scattered across her lap, a mechanical pencil in her hair like a knitting needle. Her bump — barely visible unless you were looking for it — had finally made zipping up her skirt an Olympic event. She'd given up and worn leggings today, after Oscar talked her out of rage-quitting school entirely at 8:07 that morning.

Oscar was lying beside her, flipping through flashcards with the glazed look of someone being slowly crushed by the weight of the AQA specification.

"So," he said, tapping one against her knee. "Harper Whiatt. Mother of child. Knows what meiosis is. Who knew?"

"Shut up."

"Proud of you."

"You're not even revising that subject."

"Still proud."

She rolled her eyes. "You're annoying."

"Admit it," he said, leaning his head against her shoulder. "You'd miss me if I died in the corridor during your chemistry mock."

She snorted. "Only because you're the one who carries all my pens."

A few steps away, Sam sat at a table doing absolutely no work whatsoever. He had one wired earbud in, a can of Monster open, and a singular page of notes he'd spent forty-five minutes underlining in different colours.

"Oi," he said suddenly. "Osc. Your mum messaged me on Facebook earlier."

Harper looked up. "She what?"

"She sent me a meme of a baby wearing sunglasses and a fake moustache. Told me to show you. Said you'd been ignoring her messages again."

Oscar groaned. "She's unbelievable."

Harper glanced at him. "You're ignoring her messages?" She asked.

"Only the annoying ones." He winced.

There was a pause. It started to rain outside.

Harper let out a breath and pressed a hand lightly to her belly, almost without thinking.

Oscar watched her.

"You okay?" He asked softly.

She nodded. "Just... feel a bit sick. And I'm thinking."

"About?"

"Mock exams. Labour. Stretch marks. My mum. My future. What I want to do with my life."

He reached over and squeezed her knee. "I'll fail chemistry with you, if it helps."

She smiled faintly. "That's nice of you."

"It is," he said. "We'll be dumb together."

Sam looked up from his Monster. "Can't wait for the baby shower. Gonna bring a banner that says 'Congratulations on your accidental offspring.'"

"I'm not having a baby shower," Harper muttered, cheeks pink.

Sam grinned. "Tell Jane that."

Oscar groaned. "God, don't let Jane plan any kind of party. Please. Not after the last time."

Somewhere behind them, Miss Patel coughed loudly and glared.

They lowered their voices after that.

Sort of.

—

The waiting room smelled like antiseptic and lemon floor cleaner. The chairs were plastic and uncomfortable. The kind of place where the ceiling tiles always looked slightly damp and the magazines were six months out of date.

Harper sat with her coat bunched up around her, school uniform replaced by a pair of leggings and one of Oscar's hoodies. Her hands were clasped tight in her lap. She hadn't spoken much in the car.

Oscar sat next to her, elbows on his knees, trainers scuffed from too many track walks. He kept glancing at the wall-mounted TV, where an animated diagram of a growing foetus looped every five minutes.

Chris was across from them, flicking through the appointment letter on his phone again, as if it might change.

"You alright?" Oscar asked, his voice quiet.

Harper nodded without looking at him. "Yeah."

"You don't have to be brave."

"I know." She paused. "I'm scared."

He leaned over, shoulder bumping hers. "Me too."

The door opened. A midwife popped her head around. "Harper Whiatt?"

Harper stood, legs stiff. Oscar got up with her.

The midwife smiled warmly. "You can both come in. You're her... partner?"

Oscar flushed. "Um. Yeah."

Chris made a small movement to stand but Harper looked back. "Can you wait here?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Course, kid. Whatever you prefer."

Inside, the room was small but warm. The ultrasound machine beeped quietly. A little cot of sterile supplies sat in the corner. It was more clinical than cosy.

"Alright, pop yourself up there," she said gently, gesturing to the bed.

Harper lay back, pulling her top up and the waistband of her leggings down just enough to expose her bump. She could feel Oscar's eyes on her — not gawking, just wide. Soft.

"This'll be a little cold," she warned, squeezing the gel onto Harper's belly.

Harper flinched. "Yup. Still gross."

The midwife smiled. "Won't last long. Let's see if this little one's cooperating today..."

She moved the probe over Harper's stomach, eyes fixed on the monitor. For a moment there was just static and shadows, and then — there it was. The unmistakable curve of a head. A little nose. Limbs.

Harper blinked.

Oscar made a sound like he'd just been punched in the chest. "Holy shit."

"Language," the midwife said mildly.

"Sorry. Just—" He reached for Harper's hand, gripped it. "That's... that's an actual baby."

She nodded slowly, her throat tight. "It is."

"Everything's measuring just right," the midwife said. "Spine's looking good. Heartbeat's strong. Want to hear it?"

Harper nodded.

The sound filled the room like drums underwater — a galloping, fast rhythm that didn't feel real.

Oscar was squeezing her hand hard.

She turned her head slightly to look at him. He looked stunned. Teary. And smiling.

The midwife chuckled. "That's the usual reaction."

They finished the scan. She wiped off the gel. Harper sat up, dazed. The midwife printed a few black-and-white images and handed them over.

"Here's your baby," she said softly. "You're around 18 weeks and five days, give or take. You'll be starting to feel more movement soon; those flutters you're feeling? That's your baby."

Harper stared at the picture. The tiny hand. The shape of a face that she somehow already recognised.

"Do you want to know the sex?" The midwife asked. "I can tell you now."

They glanced at each other. Harper opened her mouth, then closed it.

"Not yet," she said finally. "I don't want it to be... no. Just — not yet."

The midwife nodded, as if she understood exactly what she meant. "Alright. We'll leave it a surprise then."

When they left the room, Oscar still had the photo clutched between his fingers like it might disappear if he let go.

Chris stood. "How'd it go?"

Harper handed him one of the pictures.

His expression softened in a way she wasn't used to seeing. "Wow," he said quietly. "That's a baby."

She smiled faintly. "It is."

Chris handed the photo back and opened the car door for her. For once, she didn't protest.

Oscar waited until they were pulling out of the hospital car park to whisper, "I can't believe it, Harp." He said, his finger touching the baby's head on the photo. "I can't — It's so real."

"Yeah." She whispered. She pressed close to him and stared at the picture too.

—

The karting circuit smelled like oil, petrol and old toast — someone had clearly burned something in the staff kitchenette again. Engines buzzed constantly in the background, a low, waspish hum that made Harper's teeth itch.

She was sat on a plastic folding chair just behind the pit barrier, wrapped in hoodie and the scarf Nicole had made for her. Her coat was slung over the back of the chair, long forgotten. It had been cold when they'd arrived, but the sun was out now — faint, watery, but warm enough that she'd started to regret the extra layers.

Oscar had been out on track for nearly an hour. Mark stood nearby with a stopwatch, watching his lines, only occasionally muttering into the walkie-talkie clipped to his jacket.

It was oddly peaceful, in a sensory-overload sort of way. The scent, the noise, the blur of Oscar's kart skimming the corners — all of it had become familiar, almost comforting. Harper liked watching him like this. He looked free out there. Focused.

She shifted slightly in her seat, one hand dropping to rest on the small swell of her stomach. She wasn't huge yet — barely showing in a coat, but it was obvious now in anything fitted. She'd ordered a new school skirt again.

She yawned, stretching a little, fingers absently rubbing across her bump.

And then — something.

Not gas. Not indigestion. Not a cramp.

Something fluttered, just under her palm. Light and strange and soft — like a goldfish brushing against her from the inside. She froze.

There it was again. A nudge, low and quick. Almost like... a hello.

Her breath caught. She stared down at her belly.

Oscar zipped past again — then pulled into the pit lane, helmet tucked under one arm, flushed from the cold and the speed. He'd spotted her smile before he even reached her.

"What?" He asked, dropping down in front of her, a little breathless. "What's that face?"

She blinked at him. Then her hand moved instinctively back to her stomach.

"I think..." she said, eyes wide, voice soft with disbelief, "I think it just moved."

Oscar's eyebrows shot up. "What, really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Like... it was tiny. Like someone flicked me from the inside. It was weird."

His grin was immediate and ridiculous. "That's so cool."

Harper laughed, still a bit stunned. "It's a bit freaky, actually."

"Freaky in a good way?"

"I dunno. I'll tell you when it does it again."

He reached up, gently pressing his hand beside hers. "That's insane," he whispered, like the baby might hear him.

Harper leaned forward. "It feels like there's an alien inside me, Osc."

He snickered. "Alien invasion?"

"Yeah." She giggled. It was ridiculous, but it was true.

Nearby, Mark pretended not to be eavesdropping. But Harper saw the way he smiled slightly to himself before turning back to his stopwatch.

NEXT CHAPTER

[bunny-1111]

Did I stutter? Theo Nott x fem!reader

Description: With the Christmas ball approaching, you can’t stop daydreaming about Theo. But when Pansy reveals that he’s been quietly chasing off your suitors, you’re left questioning his true feelings. When confronted, Theo’s possessiveness comes to light—but will he finally ask you to the ball?

Genre: Angst, slow burn, romance Warnings: Slight possessiveness, mild language

Word count: 1.9k

Part 2, here

Unedited and unread

reblogs, likes and comments appreciated my loves <3

...

The Christmas ball was a yearly sensation.

When the autumn leaves were long covered by the deep snow of winter, was when you knew it was not far off.

As you sat in the great hall across from your friends in a daydream, imagining Theo all dressed up in a three-piece suit, your mind slipped into mush as you dreamed about his hand placed delicately on your waist, moving you through the steps of a waltz.

"Hello, earth calling. Are you even listening to me?!" Pansy clicked her fingers to pull you attention back into focus

"Sorry, you were saying?" you rush, flustered by your own thoughts.

"Yeah, I was asking if you want to go to Hogsmeade this afternoon?" she continued.

"Oh sure" you agree, you eyes now glued to your plate, trying to pull your mind away from him

"we'll join you, yeah" Draco casually adds

"No!" Pansy quickly exclaims

"what, why not?" replies Draco his voice high and whiney

"Because, girls day, only, we're gonna try find some dresses for the Christmas ball" inisted Pans

"we are?" you question

"we are." she states

"Oh Merlin, I hate this ball bullshit" Enzo adds, throwing his fork down

"Couldn't agree more, Enz" says Theo softly

"Yeah, Theo it must be so annoying having every girl in every house ask you to the dance, gosh you boys are insufferable" ranted Pansy

Oh, that's right, the unpleasant reminder that you and Theodore have no romantic relations and you can't do anything about the girls who swoon over him, Merlin. Why do they all have to be so desperate for him? Why can't they just leave him for you? Why can't something happen between you two why can't h-

"Come on let's go get ready for Hogs" She interrupts your self-destructive thoughts, now dragging you along back to the dorms.

As you shiver into your scarf, the cold air bites at your lips, the snow filled streets of Hogsmeade bring a sense of quickness in turns of just how soon the ball is.

"I expect someone should ask you to the dance soon" Pansy says linking her arms in your as you walk together, shopping bags in your free arms.

"Thanks, Pans, you too," you smile

You're met with unusual silence from her, so you give her a small shove, a gentle nudge, saying, spit it out.

"Well, Draco's asked me to go... I've said yes" she carefully says

"Pans! When, why didn't you tell me? This again, I thought you said you and Dray were really done this time?" You ramble, eyes wide with passionate protection for her

"I know, but like his gonna let someone else take me, I wouldn't want him to go with anyone else take me either, it's just like you and-" she starts

"Don't finish that sentence alright, you and Draco dated, Theo and I nothing" you huff

"Oh yeah, then why is he going around threatening any guy who even considers asking you." her tone

Pansy’s words hit you like a bludger to the chest, forcing the air out of your lungs. You almost stumble your steps, but she keeps her arm linked with yours, pulling you along as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell

“What are you talking about?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays you, cracking at the end.

Pansy raises a brow, glancing at you like she’s holding the world’s best secret, and you’re not in on it. “Oh, don’t play dumb. It’s been happening for months.”

Months?

Theo, your Theo, going around and threatening people from asking you to the ball? That doesn’t make sense. He barely looked at you when you weren't all together, always composed, acting as though your presence didn’t make his eyes soften as you wished they would.

But then again, you have noticed that boys, nice boys, that is, had stopped approaching you after a while. You chalked it up to bad luck. You and your friends did have a certain unapproachability. The rumors swirled about Theodore Nott being unattainable, uninterested in any romance, but he never gave any indication that he’d be willing to defend you, much less ward off potential suitors.

“yeah right, that can’t be true.” Your denial comes out weaker than you intend, the words sitting heavy on your tongue.

Pansy giggles like the school girl she is. “Sweetheart, believe what you want, but I know a possessive bloke when I see one. Trust me, Draco’s the same way, just less… subtle.” She waves her hand dismissively, but her eyes hold a knowing glimmer, irritating you. Like she has insight into your life that you aren’t aware of yourself.

You shake your head, trying to process everything. “But why wouldn’t he just—”

“Ask you himself?” Pansy finishes for you, her voice lilting, almost teasing. “Oh, come on, you know Theo. He’s about as emotionally available as a cursed lock. He probably doesn’t even realise what he’s doing half the time.”

“But pans, months?”

Pansy shrugs a nonchalant gesture that tells you she’s probably been keeping this from you for a while. “Look, I didn’t say anything because I thought you’d figure it out, and honestly, it’s kind of fun watching him sulk whenever someone gets too close. Merlin, the way he glares could melt the snow.”

You let out a breath, the cold air burning your lungs as you try to wrap your mind around it. Theodore Nott, the Theo who lives in your mind, your friend of years, the same Theo you desperately want to yourself, had been quietly chasing off any competition? It feels surreal, like a dream you’d conjured in the midst of one of your daydreams in the Great Hall.

But if that’s true… then why hasn’t he made a move? Why hasn’t he said anything to you?

As if reading your thoughts, Pansy squeezes your arm. “Don’t overthink it. Boys are complicated, especially our boys alright, even when they think they’re being clear. Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment, or maybe he’s just an idiot.”

You laugh, a short, breathy sound that fogs up the air around you. “Yeah, idiot sounds about right.”

Hogsmeade is bustling with students, all of them chattering about the upcoming ball, dresses, dates, and everything in between. You glance at shop windows, your eyes trailing over elegant gowns and shimmering accessories, but your mind is miles away, stuck on a certain brown-haired Slytherin boy who, apparently, has been harboring some very mixed signals.

By the time you make it back to the castle, your hands are full of bags, and your head is full of unanswered questions. Pansy is still chattering away, something about her dress and how Draco better match her, but you can barely focus.

You keep replaying her words over and over again. Theo’s threatening people? Why wouldn’t he just ask me? The thought sends your heart into a frenzy, and no matter how much you try to convince yourself, it’s nothing, that maybe Pansy is exaggerating; you know deep down that she’s probably right.

It isn’t until the next morning at breakfast that you catch sight of Theo, sitting at the Slytherin table with his usual quiet confidence. His hair is slightly tousled, like he couldn’t be bothered to comb it properly, and his tie is crooked, but it doesn’t matter—he still looks effortlessly good, as always.

Your heart does a little flip as you watch him, your mind racing with everything Pansy told you. Should you say something? Ask him if it’s true? Or would that be too forward? Maybe you should just wait it out, see if he says anything first…

But before you can make a decision, Theo glances up and locks eyes with you. It’s a brief moment, but it’s enough to send your pulse skyrocketing. His expression is unreadable, as usual, but there’s something in his gaze that makes your stomach twist.

You quickly look away, focusing on your plate, but your thoughts are a mess. Could he see it all on your face? Are you accidentally showing what you didn't have the courage to say?

The rest of the day passes in a blur, and by the time evening rolls around, you’re no closer to figuring out what to do. Pansy, of course, is no help—she just keeps teasing you about it, making cryptic comments about how Theo’s going to “make his move” eventually.

You’re not so sure.

It’s not until later, when you’re heading back to the common room after a long day of classes, that you run into Theo. Literally.

You’re not paying attention, too caught up in your own thoughts, and you bump right into him as you turn the corner.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t—” you start to apologize, but the words die in your throat when you look up and realize it’s him.

Theo’s standing there, hands in his pockets, his usual calm, unreadable expression in place. But there’s something different about him tonight, something that makes your heart race.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine, as his hand lays on your shoulder, steading your place in front of him

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your voice still, but it’s a losing battle.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words and tension.

Before you can make a decision, Theo breaks the silence. “You’re going to the ball, right?”

The question catches you off guard, and you nod before you can stop yourself. “Yeah, I am.”

His eyes darken slightly, and he takes a step closer. “With anyone?”

Your heart skips a beat, and for a second, you forget how to breathe. Is this it? Is he finally going to ask you?

“No,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Theo’s gaze stays locked on yours for a long moment, and then, finally, he says, “Good. Keep it that way.”

And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your mind spinning.

You stand frozen in place, his words echoing in your mind. Good. Keep it that way. It’s a simple sentence, but the way Theo said it, with that intensity in his eyes, sends your heart into a tailspin.

What did he mean by that? Was it a warning? A request? Or something else entirely?

You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion, but it’s no use. Theo’s always been hard to read, but this feels different—like there’s something just beneath the surface that you can’t quite grasp.

"No Theo wait!" you call out before he gets too far

His body swiftly turns around waiting for you, typical Teddy, of course he makes you run after him.

When you finally reach him all you can manage is "I don't understand."

"what's not to understand, darling," he says softly almost sympathetic

"Have you stopped guys from asking me, personally?" you say so quickly you didn't even have time to realise what you had just asked

"Yes. I have" he replies immediately

"wh-what?" you mutter out

"Did I fucking stutter? Anyone asks you and you tell me" his tone stern and meaningful, inching closer and closer to you, "alright"

"alright" you agree in a small voice

"Good girl" he smiles as he tilts his head, before walking off.

well, what the fuck now.

Author Note: I've been feeling so unsure about my writing lately, I've been struggling to produce good work. I have been so flat out at work that by the time I get home, I'm writing at like 2am, so it just turns out shit... and I get too tired to finish it properly like this one, but I just wanted to get something out. Ugh, I'm sorry. anyway hope you try to enjoy this one, I will get back to my confident writing soon, I hope lol love youuuuuuu, B.

Part 2, here

[oneofstarkskids]

girl back home

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1822 (new record?? 🤭)

genre: a lil bit of everything, but mostly fluff. you know.

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD ‼️

It was already February, and you were long overdue for some sunshine. The snow is always beautiful, especially with twinkling lights reflecting off of it. But those lights are gone now, and all you're left with is this chill to your bones.

You cling tightly to Bucky's arm, watching your steps carefully. "You okay?" He asks with a pink nose.

You can't speak without your jaw shaking violently, so you simply nod.

"I told ya' you should've brought gloves," he says with a know-it-all essence. The low temperatures must've been slowly freezing your brain cells because you didn't even make a snide remark.

The two of you finally reach your apartment building and make your way up to your floor. As soon as you're in the door, he takes your coat for you. "And you wanted ice cream," he snickers before hanging the coats and starting on a pot of coffee.

"I'll admit, I've had better ideas," you say before hurrying over to the messy pile of blankets on the couch, desperate for warmth.

After a few moments behind the counter, he walks over carrying your favorite mug. The one with the little yellow duck on it.

"Here ya' go, doll."

You give him a grateful peck on the cheek and grab the mug, careful not to burn yourself.

He moves to scooch in close to you, but his phone rings right on que. He sighs before pulling it out of his back pocket, "Hello?"

There's a pause and Bucky's face falls. "Not really a good time," he says with annoyance.

After a much longer pause, he nods as if the person on the other end can see him. "Alright, I'll be there."

He takes the phone away from his ear and hangs up. You give him that look.

"They're calling me into Washington. They want to have another meeting about the whole congress thing." Bucky trails off.

You nod, "Well, when do you leave?"

"Tonight."

The word hangs in the air for a moment as both of you contemplate the next move.

"And when are you supposed to be back?" You asked.

Bucky gave you an apologetic smile, "Valentine's Day."

You tried not to overreact. This was his job. It was important to him, and you wanted to be supportive. Besides, it wasn't like Valentine's Day was any more special than the other days when you got to spend your entire life with the man you loved.

"That's okay! We can work with that, we'll just celebrate later that night. Dinner, maybe?" You tried to be optimistic.

Bucky's demeanor changed, "You know, that's what I love about you?" He set his mug down on the coffee table and leaned over you.

"Oh, really?" You asked with the biggest grin.

"Mhm," he placed a soft kiss on your jawline.

You bit your lip to keep from grinning, "What else do you love about me?"

And Bucky did leave that night, with a dazed look and smirk on his lips. If that was how you said goodbye, he couldn't wait to see how you welcomed him back.

He kept in touch with you the entire time he was in Washington. Phone calls, FaceTime, endless texting. It was only for a couple days, but he never wanted to go a minute without hearing your voice.

But the plane ride there. It was hell. Not being able to see your eyes light up. Not being able to kiss those perfect lips. The guilt of leaving you behind began to weigh him down. Another fight he couldn't avoid.

The only moment he got a break from his self loathing was when he visited Sam. "Hey, buddy." The two patted each other on the backs.

"Got a knack for getting yourself in trouble don't you, Sam?" Bucky teased.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "If I recall, a lot of the trouble I've gotten into has been on your behalf."

Bucky laughed and nodded his head as if to say "touché".

"How's the girl," Sam asks, his smile reflecting his fondness for you.

Your beautiful boy just grins from ear to ear, "She's great. She's always great."

"Would you look at that," Sam says. "The man who never smiles just can't seem to stop."

Bucky shakes his head, still the flicker of a smile on his face, "She makes me...a better man."

Sam looks down at the ground. Grappling with his thoughts.

Bucky notices and turns to him.

"None of this," he gestures to Joaquin in the hospital bed, struggling to maintain stability, "is your fault."

"I don't know, Buck. I'm not cut out for this," Sam said. It wasn't something Bucky hadn't heard before. He knew his friend had always dealt with feeling unworthy of Steve's title.

"This shield was made for you, just as much as it was made for Steve. He wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't believe that himself," Bucky reassured him.

Sam let it sink in for a minute before cocking his head towards Bucky, "Damn. We're doing pep talks now?"

Bucky let out a laugh that was partially a scoff. He couldn't catch a break. "I meant it, Samuel. This was my last day here, and I had to make sure you knew that before I left."

Sam nodded, "Thank you, Bucky."

"I love you, Buddy." The blue eyed man said back.

"Now, I've got a plane to catch and a girl back home to surprise," He said with a skip to his step.

Sam watched him leave before muttering under his breath, "Damn soldier's gone soft."

The airport was packed with people. Long lines wrapped through the hallways. Bucky tried to push his way through. Tried to get an answer.

"What's going on?"

A stranger turned around, "They're delaying all the flights. Something about a security issue nearby."

Bucky found a group of people crowded around a television and squeezed in to get a better view. "President Ross reportedly transformed into what people are already calling 'Red Hulk' after massive White House meltdown." Footage flashed across the screen of what was indeed a cherry tomato colored Hulk surrounded by a burning white house.

The growl that erupted from the beast vibrated the speakers. Bucky's shoulders dropped in disappointment as he picked up the phone to call you.

You answered almost instantly, "Buck?" Your voice was weak with worry and it sounded like you were already expecting bad news.

"The flights are delayed, doll. Turn on the news," Bucky said.

"I've seen it," You replied softly.

"I don't know how long-" Bucky started but you cut him off. "Hey, don't worry about that. Just, get home safely. Please."

Bucky swallowed, "I will."

"I love you, James."

"I-" The line went dead. He quickly checked the phone to see what had happened. NO SERVICE.

Bucky was desperate to find a way back to you.

Meanwhile, Sam was getting his ass kicked by a giant blood clot. "Ross, listen to me. You know this place. You used to go here all the time with, Betty."

The creature that was once the president growled in his face.

"Alright, that didn't work."

Sam dove behind a car, narrowly avoiding another blow from the hell hulk. "You don't want to talk it out. Fine by me," Sam rolled away from the car just as the hulk smashed the gas tank.

The explosive vehicle flew towards the now Captain America, and with his improved vibranium wings from the Wakandan's he was able to slice the car in half.

His victory was short lived as the hulk grabbed him by the wing and ripped it off. Sam fell to his knees, feeling like he'd lost the war. At that moment, a spray of bullets bounced off of the angry monster's back. It turned around, focusing it's deep red eyes on the all too familiar Winter Soldier.

Sam was now an afterthought as the Red Hulk raced towards Bucky. The soldiers vibranium fist made a loud clank as it collided with the much larger one.

The high pitched whip of metal rang through the air and Sam's shield dug into the President's back. Bucky smiled like a proud father.

Together, Sam and Bucky were able to keep the hulk away from civilians and wear him out until backup arrived. But it was the memory of his daughter and the drive to be a better man that transformed his outer appearance as well.

Bucky was slouched against a police car as paramedics carried the President away. "What happened to the girl back home thing?" Sam walked over to him.

"Couldn't catch my flight. Besides, I figured you needed me more." Bucky said.

"Stop tryna butter me up," Sam shook his head. "I'll get you on a private jet, but you owe me."

Bucky extended his fist, starting off their handshake. "Take care, pal."

Sam finished it off, "Same time next week?"

You were curled up on the couch, exactly where Bucky had left you. It was Valentine's Day, and your husband was off to God knows where probably risking his life.

And the only thing you could do about it was sit here and wait. With a box of chocolates. And a few Ryan Gosling movies.

Then, you heard the rattling of a key in the door. It was so unexpected that you almost considered it had just been people that had come to take you away.

Bucky pushed the door open, dropping his heavy duffel bags and extending his arms to you. You quickly jumped up, chocolates flying, and ran over to him.

The contrast between being out in the cold and now being in your warm embrace was a shock to Bucky's system.

He smelled like ash and sweat, but underneath that he smelled like him.

"I thought-" Your eyes involuntarily began to tear up.

He cupped your face in his hands and looked into your eyes with an intensity that made you blush, "I couldn't leave my best girl alone on Valentine's Day."

Your heart skipped a few beats and your face was permanently carved into a smile.

"Oh, almost forgot." He reaches into his pocket.

When he held out the palm of his hand, a silver chain with the letter B dangling from the end of it replaced the empty space.

"Bucky," you said, wiping away more tears to no avail. It was so much more than jewelry to you. It was proof that time after time, Bucky would find a way. That you were his priority and that would never change.

"It's beautiful."

He unclasped the necklace before gently turning you around to put it on you. "For the most beautiful girl," he said when he was done.

You turned around and kissed him, combing your hands through his hair. He looked into your eyes, feeling overwhelmed with joy.

"I've got something for you too," you smirked.

"You do?" He asked knowingly, kicking the door closed behind him.

"Mhm," you pulled him closer by his shirt. You were going to do more than just tell him how much you missed him.

[pnghoon]

daddy's in a tutu !!

(🩰) ── 𝓟ARK JONGSEONG [제이] ⁞ ㅤㅤ𝓰. fluff, humor, married auㅤㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ warnings : est. relationship, not proofread, pet-namesㅤ⟡ㅤ!nonidol hubby !jay 𝔁 wife !reader ᯓ ꒰ wc : 1.3k꒱ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsynopsis .ᐟ in which you come back home to the sight of your husband in a pretty pink tutu (•̪ o •̪) ── 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᡣ𐭩

juno's note ─ "unfortunately I can imagine him in a tutu if our daughter asked him too" is so jay coded. you will never not catch me yapping about husband jay..bc why is that man so hubby material. if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡

the snow was falling heavily outside, blanketing the world in a soft, white layer. inside your cozy home, you were busy getting ready for a day of much-needed errands.

bustling around the house, you pulled on your warmest winter coat and bundled up, ready to brave the icy roads.

before you left, you turned to your husband, jay, and your four year old daughter, yubin, who was sitting on the couch, hugging her favorite pink stuffed bunny.

you stared at your daughter's crestfallen face as she cuddled up beside jay. It was the inevitable that the four year old would be upset right now. due to the icy roads and heavy snow, today's ballet class was canceled, leaving yubin devastated.

“are you sure you'll be okay?” you asked, fixing the scarf around your neck and grabbing your purse.

jay looked up from the couch, where he was busy trying to cheer up yubin, her eyes still a bit puffy from the earlier tears and her nose resembling rudolph.

“we'll be fine,” he reassured with a smile, “right, princess?”

yubin nodded half-heartedly, a cute pout still present on her face as she clutched her bunny.

“you guys call me if you need anything,” you reminded them, pressing a kiss to jay's cheek and ruffling yubin's hair. “i'll be back soon.”

and with one last look at your two favorite people, you braved the snowy outdoors. the cold air nipped at your cheeks, but the promise of hot cocoa and a warm house kept you going.

you made your way to the car, shaking your head with a smile at how cute they looked together. little did you know, an adventure was unfolding inside.

jay and yubin huddled together in the living room, surrounded by the warmth of the heater and the faint sound of delicate snowflakes hitting the window.

yubin wore her little ballet outfit, a mini bun perched on the crown of her head as she practiced her pirouettes.

jay on the other hand, was trying his best to keep up with her, although his ballet skills were definitely less refined.

“okay binnie, let’s try that spin again,” jay said, puffing slightly. “i think i’ve got it now.”

yubin giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement as he watched her dad try to catch his breath from just a couple twirls.

“daddy, you’re doing great! but…”

“but what, sweetheart?” jay asked, glancing down at her with a raised brow.

“i think you need a tutu too!”

jay blinked. he hadn't anticipated that request. “a tu..tu? i don’t know if that’s a good idea honey...”

“pleeease, daddy?” yubin begged, giving him her best puppy eyes. “it’ll be so much fun!”

jay stared at his daughter for a moment, his heart swelling in his chest at the sight of her big round eyes staring up at him.

after a moment of thought, jay reluctantly sighed, giving in to her adorable plea. “alright, alright. if it’ll make you happy, i’ll wear a tutu.”

and with that, jay found himself sporting a frilly tutu that barely fit his hips, his face turning an adorable shade of pink to match the tutu. yubin clapped her hands in delight, twirling around in her own tutu.

“we're matching now daddy!” yubin cheered, jumping around in her ballet slippers.

jay laughed, looking down at the slight new change of wardrobe. it was definitely a combo to say the least, never in his life would he expect sweats to look so good with a tutu.

“isn't that right binnie?” he commented, extending his hand for yubin to take. “now, let's get back to those grand jeté's we were working on earlier eh?”

yubin squealed, immediately accepting his requests with the grasp of her tiny fingers and a wide smile plastered on her face.

“yes please!”

as they continued their ballet practice, the living room had turned into a makeshift stage for the two, with yubin and jay performing a whimsical ballet routine, the sweet melodies of the nutcracker adding the perfect touch to their chaotic performance.

“okay, let’s see your best grand jeté!” yubin called out, her tiny arms reaching out dramatically.

jay attempted a grand jeté, but ended up looking more like an enthusiastic baby goose learning to fly, his arms flailing in the air.

yubin giggled uncontrollably, trying to mimic her dad's moves with even more dramatizing flair.

they pranced around the living room for what seemed like hours, their tutus fluttering in sync with every twirl and leap. for jay’s sake, they would take periodic breaks throughout the practice.

during these breaks, yubin would watch in amusement as her dad rested his hands on his waist, desperately trying to regain his composure. let’s just say, it was like watching a wind-up toy wind down.

after what felt like ages, you were finally heading home. sure, the sweet jingle of christmas music and the warm smell of cinnamon from each errand stop were enduring, but what you were really looking forward to was being wrapped up in a warm, cozy blanket with the two people you love most.

as you pulled into the driveway, the house looked picture perfect against the snowy backdrop. you carried your bags inside, balancing them as you nudged the door open with your hip.

“i'm back!” you called out, kicking off your snowy boots and setting the bags down in the kitchen. “i got all the goodies!”

no response. now you were curious.

you walked further into the house slowly, following the sound of familiar classical music you knew all too well. peeking around the corner, you stopped in your tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape.

there, in the middle of the living room was your husband, in a bright pink tutu that barely fit his athletic build. matching his outfit was your daughter, her own tutu flaring out as she twirled around, her giggles a melody of their own. they were completely in the zone, unaware of your presence.

If you were being frank, the scene was too precious to interrupt. jay was trying to execute an arabesque, but his balance was off, making yubin laugh even more.

“come on, daddy! like this!” she demonstrated with the grace only a child could have, and jay tried again, a bit more successfully this time.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer, and jay’s head practically spun at the sound, his face turning even redder from embarrassment.

“oh- hey honey! um, well, yubin wanted to practice ballet–” he explained, his voice trailing off at the end.

“don't stop on my account,” you teased, revealing yourself from behind the wall as you took in the scene before you in all it’s glory.

yubin ran over to you, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

“mommy, look! daddy's my ballet partner!”

you couldn't help but chuckle, kneeling down to hug your daughter. “i can see that," you commented through giggles, your gaze flickering towards your husband for a moment. “and I must say.. he's doing a pretty fantastic job.”

“why thank you.” jay answered. he tried to pull off a graceful bow, but from the energy he had just exerted to his recent performance with his daughter, he stumbled a bit.

you couldn't stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes. “oh, jay, you're a sight.”

jay grinned, walking over to join you and there daughter. “anything for our little princess. plus, i think i’ve found a new appreciation for tutus.”

later that evening, after yubin was tucked into bed, you and jay found yourselves cuddled on the couch, the soft glow of the christmas tree lights casting a warm glow to the room.

“you really made her day today, y'know,” you murmured, resting your head on jay's chest.

“well, that's what dads are for, right?” he replied, his fingers playing with a strand of your hair.

“i think you might have missed your calling as a ballet dancer,” you teased, nudging his side with your elbow.

jay laughed, pulling you closer. “i'll stick to my day job, thanks. but for yubin, i'd wear a tutu any day.”

you smiled, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. “and that's exactly why you’re so amazing.”

𝓢igning off... @pnghoon

── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @won4kiss @jakesangel

[maidragoste]

Snow

Aegon II Tragaryen x Wife!Reader

Second day of the December drabble special!

If you like it, please don't hesitate to like, share and comment. That motivates me to keep writing 🥰🥰💖💖

I remind you that if you have an idea or want to read something specific you can write to me in my inbox 🤗💖

I still haven't decided if tomorrow's drabble will be Aemond x Reader or one of Larys and Sea Dragon

Anyway, I wish you a good read!

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

“Aerea, if you keep moving I can’t finish getting you ready,” Aegon gently reprimanded his daughter who kept jumping around while he tried to straighten her scarf and hat.

“I’m sorry, kepa, I’m excited about the snow,” the little girl said without stopping her jumping.

“I know, but the snow isn’t going anywhere,” he reminded her. “We can’t go out until you’re properly wrapped up. If I let you out like this you’ll get sick and you won’t be able to play in the snow again.”

The purple eyes, just like his, looked at Aegon in surprise. He held back a smile when he saw that his words had an effect and the girl remained still. Aegon didn’t waste any time and hurried to wrap the scarf around Aerea’s neck again before leaving the ends in front and zipping up his coat to the top. Now there was no way the scarf would come off while she was playing.

“Is it tight? Are you uncomfortable?” he checked.

“No, kepa” she answered instantly.

“Well, that’s all,” said Aegon putting the hat on her and smiling at her.

“Can we go out now?” asked Aerea jumping impatiently again.

Aegon was about to tell her they had to wait for you and her brother to be ready when you appeared.

“We found it!” you announced going down the stairs with a smiling Rhaekar. Nothing to do with the child who minutes ago was screaming and crying because he didn’t want to go out with any other hat than the one his aunt Helaena had knitted for him.

“You’re the best,” your husband told you once you were by his side and he kissed you. Despite not being a long or passionate kiss, it made you feel warm and bubbly.

You would have liked to be able to continue kissing him for longer if it weren't for the whining of the children impatient to go out and play. Aegon pulled away from your lips and sighed as if it physically hurt him, making you laugh.

“We'll go out now,” he said, trying to reassure the children, while he helped you put on your coat. You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture and give him a small kiss. “Okay, are we all ready?”

“Yessss!” the children shouted and as soon as Aegon opened the door, the two of them ran out into the courtyard.

“Well, we probably won’t have a hard time putting them to sleep today,” he said, looking at Rhaekar throwing himself in the snow to make an angel.

“I hope you’re right,” you said, watching Aerea make several snowballs. “We should prepare before she attacks us.”

“Nah, let’s give her a head start,” he said, barely finishing when he received a snowball on the arm. He shook the snow off his coat as he listened to Rhaekar mocking his sister for her poor aim. The mockery ended when she threw a snowball at his face.

“See? I have good aim,” Aerea said as she continued to attack her brother.

“Kepa, help!” Rhaekar shouted, trying to dodge the attacks while making his snowballs.

“Muña, come with me, help me!” your daughter shouted as she saw that she was starting to run out of snowballs.

And that was how you and Aegon joined the snow fight.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith   @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog   @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol   @jacesvelaryons @aemondwhoresworld @multiversemayhemme

@aegonswife @decaffeinatedparadisepost @lidivi @alixxhere @xinyourdreamsx  

hotd masterlist

[ahqkas]

# SWEET LITTLE LIES ; mattheo riddle

❛ tell me sweet little lies ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! mattheo riddle expects to be met with familiar scents of parchment and rain. instead, he's stunned to recognize the fragrance of (name)

WORD COUNT! 2.2k

WARNINGS! none, maybe ooc mattheo since it’s my first time writing for him

NOTES! best read in the true blue mode

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

THE DIMLY LIT CLASSROOM OF POTIONS BUZZED WITH THE SUBDUED MURMURS OF STUDENTS AS THEY TOOK THEIR SEATS, THE SOUND ECHOING OFF THE COLD, STONE WALLS. The weather outside stormed wildly, the winter snow freezing the windows of the castle and covering the land with a white blanket. It was a clear sign that Christmas was coming soon. Maybe even sooner than expected. Flickering torches cast dancing shadows, adding to the room's eerie ambiance. The long, wooden tables were neatly arranged in rows, each one equipped with cauldrons and an assortment of ingredients that glistened in the low light.

The scent of musty parchment and various potions' ingredients lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of damp stone. Professor Slughorn, with his rotund figure and genial demeanor, bustled about the room, his jovial laughter cutting through the tension as he waited for the students to take their seats. His eyes twinkled behind his spectacles as he greeted each student personally with a huge amount of enthusiasm.

As you settled into your seat, you could feel the cool air from the dungeon's depths and outside's snow, a stark contrast to the warm, humid air that rose from the simmering cauldrons. The anticipation was palpable, each student eager yet apprehensive about the complex potion they were about to brew. No potion was easy, after all, and the one before Christmas break was the actual opposite of easy.

Mattheo Riddle slipped into a seat near the back, his expression as inscrutable as ever. You caught his eye for a fleeting moment before looking away, a shiver running down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. The atmosphere was thick with concentration and a hint of tension, as everyone prepared to prove their skills in the demanding environment of the Potions dungeon.

Professor Slughorn clasped his hands together, a gleam of excitement in his eyes, as he addressed the class once everyone was ready to begin with the lesson. "Good afternoon, my dear students! Today, we have a particularly enchanting potion in our hands. We'll be brewing Amortentia! Anybody knows what Amortentia is?"

A ripple of murmurs spread through the room as students exchanged curious glances. Hermione Granger's hand shot up eagerly, and Professor Slughorn nodded in her direction. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

The girl straightened in her seat, her voice confident as she replied, "Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence, sir. It causes a powerful infatuation or obsession in the drinker. However, it's not truly love, but rather an intense and temporary obsession."

Professor Slughorn beamed at her response, pleased with her as always. "Excellent, Miss Granger! Five points to Gryffindor for your impeccable knowledge. Indeed, Amortentia is a potion that has been the subject of many cautionary tales throughout history. But fear not, today we shall handle it with the utmost care and respect for its potency."

As Professor Slughorn's cheerful voice echoed through the dungeon, assigning partners for the upcoming project, you listened with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Names were called, pairs formed, until finally, he reached the one that made your heart skip a beat.

"And for Miss [Last name]," Professor Slughorn announced, scanning the room with a thoughtful expression, "I think it's only fitting to pair you with Mr. Riddle."

A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned towards you and Mattheo. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the unspoken questions hanging in the air. Of course they'd stare, he was the Dark Lord's son. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you exchanged a brief, uncertain glance with Mattheo, his expression unreadable as always.

Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together, breaking the tension with his trademark joviality. "There we have it, ladies and gentlemen! Partners assigned, let the festivities begin!"

When the class dissolved into activity, you couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness that clouded your mind. Being partnered with Mattheo Riddle for a project meant spending more time in his presence, meaning being surrounded by the rumors that circled around him like bees circled flowers. Once people talked, no one could stop it.

And Mattheo Riddle had a reputation of his own to own.

Said Riddle approached your desk with a measured stride, his expression guarded yet polite, never actually showing what was on his mind. He took the seat beside you, and a light scent of cinnamon greeted your senses as you acknowledged each other with a nod.

Clearing his throat, the Slytherin turned towards you, his voice carefully neutral. "[Last name]," he began, his eyes never once breaking the eye contact he held from the start, "do you happen to know what ingredients we need for the Amortentia potion?"

You glanced up from the parchment which contained the names of the ingredients you'd need for the potion, meeting his gaze with a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah," you replied softly, your tone gentle yet confident. "We'll need powdered moonstone, a sprig of peppermint, Ashwinder egg, rose thorns and petals, and some of the pearl dust."

Mattheo's eyebrows lifted, clearly being impressed when you named the ingredients without even having to look at the parchment. "Let's gather the ingredients and get started then, shall we?"

And with that, you began to brew the potion, your movements synchronized as you both worked side by side, each lost in your own thoughts yet connected by the shared task of the potion brewing before you two.

The ambient noise of the dungeon—a blend of bubbling cauldrons and hushed conversations—created a cocoon of privacy around your shared workspace.

You reached for the powdered moonstone, your fingers brushing Mattheo's briefly as he handed you the jar. A quick glance passed between you, and you'd been surprised at how this even happened. You know Mattheo is careful enough to not touch anyone, unless absolutely necessary (doesn't apply to his friends and people he's got a problem with). Carefully, you measured the moonstone and added it to the cauldron, watching as the shimmering powder dissolved into the bubbling liquid.

Next came the peppermint. Mattheo's hands were steady as he delicately placed the sprig into the cauldron, the potion emitting a soft, iridescent glow. His focus was intense, his usual guarded expression softened by the concentration and when his brows furrowed, creating frown lines between them, you couldn't help but admit to yourself he's rather breathtaking when he's not throwing daggers with his glare.

"Just a bit of rose petals left," you said in concentration, eyes following the Slytherin's movements. Mattheo nodded, holding the small vial with care. As he added the final ingredient, the potion swirled, releasing a heady aroma that made your heart race. You expected to smell the familiar scents of home - fresh pine, baked goods, and the flowery smell of fields. Yet, you inhaled a completely different mix of scents, confusing you to the roots. Cigarettes, jasmine, and the strong cologne Mattheo was wearing, along with cinnamon.

You turned to him with a frown etched on your face while your eyes searched his. "Did you try to drown yourself in your cologne today?"

The boy next to you blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the sudden accusation. "What? No," he replied while leaning closer to you. "I barely used any."

"They why do you reek of it?"

Mattheo's brown irises flickered to the potion, then back to you. "I could ask you the same thing. Your perfume can be smelled in the whole classroom."

The cogs in his head started to whirl as the thought about it and for better reassurance, Mattheo leaned above the bubbling cauldron and inhaled deeply, his eyes widening slightly as he recognized a scent that clearly resonated with what he just said. He glanced at you, a mixture of surprise and something deeper flickering in his eyes. For a brief moment, the walls he had carefully built around himself seemed to crumble, revealing a vulnerability that caught you off guard to see.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence he created without any intention. "Looks like we brewed it right," he exclaimed, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something unspoken. You nodded, feeling a similar mix of emotions as you looked into the softly glowing pink potion.

Professor Slughorn, who had been making his rounds through the classroom, examining potions and asking students to describe the scents they perceived, finally approached your table. His joyful demeanor brightened further as he peered into your cauldron, a look of pleased surprise spreading across his face as he clapped his hands at the sight.

"Ah, splendid work, you two! This is the best brew I've seen yet," he exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with approval. "Such a perfect example of Amortentia! Now, tell me, Mr. Riddle, what scents do you detect?"

Mattheo hesitated, his eyes flicking to you briefly before he focused on the potion again. He took a deep breath, the familiar and intoxicating aroma washing over him. "I smell parchment," he began, his voice steady, "and fresh rain... and—" He paused, his gaze meeting yours, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes. "And a hint of wildflowers, like the ones near the edge of the Forbidden Forest."

Slughorn's eyebrows lifted in delight. "Marvelous! Wildflowers, you say? Such an evocative scent, isn't it?" He turned his attention to you, clearly curious. "And you, my dear? What do you smell?"

You swallowed hard, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks under the intensity of both Slughorn's and Mattheo's gazes. "I... I smell the smoke of cigarettes," you said, concentrating on the whirl of scents, "and something soft, like... jasmine, and a hint of something spicy. Cinnamon, perhaps.”

Slughorn clapped his hands together, beaming. "Excellent, both of you! You've captured the essence of Amortentia beautifully. Your potion reflects a deep, personal connection to the scents you hold." He nodded approvingly and moved on to the next table, leaving you and Mattheo in a charged silence.

As the professor's attention shifted elsewhere, you found yourself staring into the cauldron, the shimmering potion a reminder of the truths it had revealed rather than a simple love potion. Mattheo's description lingered in your mind - wildflowers, fresh rain -scents unmistakably tied to you.

Mattheo cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, wildflowers, huh?" he said, attempting a half-smirk but unable to mask the underlying tension.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. "Jasmine and spices... it's not exactly subtle, is it?"

He shook his head, the faint smirk fading as he looked at you, his expression earnest. "No, it's not."

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. The potion had done more than just showcase your brewing skills; it had unveiled the undeniable bond between you neither of you were aware of.

As the class drew to a close, the potion's shimmering surface still held your gaze. Professor Slughorn's praise echoed in your mind, but it was Mattheo's words that truly resonated. The students began to pack up their things, the room filled with the sounds of clattering glassware and murmured conversations.

Finally, as the last of the students filed out, leaving the dungeon quieter and more intimate, Mattheo turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "[Last name]," he began, a smirk playing on his lips, "It's all confusing to me but you can't deny it. The Amortentia—it's not just a potion, you know what it does and what it did."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the flutter of emotions with a playful smile. "Is that so, Riddle? Took a love potion for you to figure out what you feel for me? I thought you were supposed to be the clever one."

Mattheo chuckled, leaning in slightly. "Well, Granger can't be the only one showing off in class. Besides, it's hard to be clever when someone's making it difficult to think straight."

You rolled your eyes, though your heart skipped a beat. "So, what do we do now? Have a dramatic confession in front of everyone or keep exchanging sarcastic remarks and piss everyone off?"

"I vote for sarcastic remarks," Mattheo replied with a grin. "They're more fun. Plus, I wouldn't want you to think I'm going soft."

"Perish the thought," you said with a mock gasp. "Imagine the scandal."

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine for the first time you've heard him laugh. It was a new, yet heartwarming sound. "But seriously, [Last name], let's take it one step at a time. No need to rush."

You nodded, content with the idea. "Agreed. Just promise me one thing, Riddle."

"Anything," he said, his tone suddenly sincere.

"Don't drown yourself in cologne again. It's really distracting."

The smirk he spotted before returned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Only if you promise not to spend all your time in the Forbidden Forest looking for wildflowers. It'd be a shame if you got lost."

"Deal," you said, unable to suppress a laugh.

Together, you left the dungeon, the lingering scent of Amortentia left behind you. As you walked side by side, trading jabs and teasing comments, Mattheo's fingers brushed against yours in a silent invitation before he enveloped your palm with his.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[allfearstofallto]

Do you think Childe would get jealous is reader spent to much time with the kids or would he just appreciate her not being miserable 24/7?

Childe is jealous because HE can't spend lots of time with the kids. He's unreasonably happy that you and the children get along so well, but he hates that it comes at the cost of him not having a place to fit in.

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Reader has children, yandere themes, general angst

It was a thought that lingered in his mind more than he wanted. Despite the fact that he was adamant that he wouldn't let it bother him, it still crept its way into his brain during moments of silence. It was eating away at him, the one thing that he couldn't fight off was going home every night and noticing it. Noticing the silence, the lack of toys splayed about, the lack of laughter, the mess.

When he was a child and even up until long past his teenage years, he remembered not being able to walk two steps in his home without stumbling over a toy or board game or even some mysterious mess. He's aware that he has significantly less adolescents in his own house now than he did as a kid, but it doesn't change the fact that his his kids are just so clean. and quiet. It's almost unnerving how little he sees of those existence in the home.

And when he returns, even if there is still sun beaming down on the packed snow of Snezhnaya, his son's will already be up in their rooms. Whether it's to nap or do some schoolwork, the second he steps foot into his own home, they become unavailable, shying away from him as if he were the monster under their bed.

“Why are the boy's always busy when I get home,” he asked over dinner. A quiet dinner of just you and him. He hadn't eaten a meal with his son's in months, almost as if you wanted him to forget their existence.

A look of fear crossed your face, then confusion, then a weak, fake smile. Those smiles of yours. Forced quivering lips and wide eyes, how much longer could you continue to smile at him like that? How much longer would he allow it?

“They're both still young, Ajax, they don't want to be under their parents constantly,” you tried to assure him, following your words up by filling your mouth with food to not have to say more.

“That's bullshit,” he slammed his fist down on the table, scaring you even more in the process. You could see that he was seething with rage, close to having an outburst before taking a deep breath to calm himself. Still, his words were slow and concise as he spoke against, a growl present in his voice, “You can't even sit Damon down for a minute without him crying till he's blue in the face.”

There was nothing you could say to disprove what he was saying. He was correct. Damon was typically glued to your hip, throwing fits whenever you let go of him. He was always a clingy child, vastly different to Adonis, who only wanted you around to show you a cool trick he'd learned or an art project he'd made. But both of them would grow pale when you said that their father would be returning home soon, and even if you wanted to, you couldn't make them leave the confines of their rooms, knowing that Childe was lurking around the corner.

“I want to see my sons,” he said without waiting for your response.

“They're probably long asleep by now,” another lie. You couldn't get Adonis to go to bed without a fight most nights. You knew he was still up, possibly playing with his action figures once again, but if he heard the sound of his father's footsteps coming up the stairs, he'd be in bed with no hesitation. You remember a night where he thought it was Childe instead of you opening the door to his bedroom. He was curled up in his comforter, with it pulled up to his eyes. Peeking at the door like he was expecting the Boogeyman.

“I won't go in tomorrow then. We'll have the whole day together,”

You had nothing to say back, but also no way of forcing the boys to spend time with him. Rather, you silently picked at your food, a lump starting to form in your throat. Dinner was eaten in silence, with you only occasionally stealing glances at your husband, who was still angrily eating. Your heart sank thinking of the ways the boys would cry, but knowing that there was nothing you could do for them. Except be there as he forced himself into their lives. He was doing to them as he'd done to you. And helplessly, all you could do was watch.

[liliquixxx]

‘Dressed In Red’

Prologue

A forsaken AU, where y/n is a wolf, but disguised as little red hiding hood. (Age is somewhere around 14-15)

Anyone is free to make fics or hcs of my AU!! (Feel free to ping me!)

Content warnings: first person pov(y/n still goes by they/them), possible ooc, mentions blood and minor mention of cannibalistic thoughts, switches to second pov in the end

Authors note: I got lazy at the end, lol

The wind was steady, the forest was tranquil yet the sound of my footsteps broke the quiet atmosphere. Where am I? That was all I wondered. I roamed through this foreign forest for who knows how long. My hooded red cape gently swaying due to the wind. The basket I held hits my knees each step I take, it carries nothing but bread and a wine bottle; it wasnt really wine, it was just water. 'I miss the snow', that was what I thought before I suddenly came to a halt. In the distance there was faint light, perhaps theres people that can help me?

"People." I muttered to myself, then I make haste and run towards the light.

I stopped running as soon as I reached the source of the light, a cabin, surely theres people in there no? I breath out before making my way up the stairs, and infront of the door. I raise my hand and knock on the door, twice or thrice, It didn't matter how many times I have to knock.

But before anyone could open the door my vision fades to black, what was going on, is this a land that belongs to a witch? Surely it must... I awoken in a random grave, I still had my basket and hooded cape. What is this loop? Its dizzying for sure... A loud gasp is heard behind me.

"A new survivor?! This isnt good.." Survivor? What are they talking about, and what does this mystery person mean by 'This isnt good'. I look behind me to see someone with a fearful yet shocked expression, blue hoodie, yellow sleeves that match their skin, and green pants. They look odd, thats what I thought when I look at them.

"Uh.. Excuse me sir, do you perhaps know where I am?.." I look up at them, as he looks left and right.

"I or someone will explain later. We should go, it's not safe staying here." Not safe? What do they mean by that? They then run away, leaving me alone in the graveyard.

"Wh-wait for-" They havent even introduced themselves, how rude. But then my throughts were cutted off by a nearby deep voice, and rattlesnake sound. I look to the direction of where it came from, a green light from what seems like a glowing... Slash? Which was caused by a odd looking entity with their green chest see through that their ribcage can be seen. But the slash then hits something or someone to where it was directed, a man with a blue pumpkin head gets hit and falls to the ground as they were flying earlier, and turning into a odd shade of green. I just watched, not looking surprised yet a bit shocked. And suddenly, with just a blink of an eye, the entity kills the man with a blue pumpkin head, blood pooling the grass they once layed. The familiar smell of blood fills my nose, no, I cant act like a foolish, hungry animal right now, not when theres people to see the mess i'd make. I make a quiet gasp, which alerted the entity, it then raises two of its swords. But before it can throw the swords at me, it was hit by what seems to be a bullet, stunning it as it kneels down. And suddenly someone grabbed my arm and hides me behind a nearby wall. A man with black pants, yellow skin, red shirt, and visor. He looks at me.

"You alright kid?" I shifted slightly and nod. "Good..." "Do you know where I am sir?" "...Nows not the best time to explain, we'll meet the others and explain once the round ends." Others? Rounds? What is this odd place...

[Timeskip cuz im not writing a lot]

..3

..2

..1

My vision once more fades to black. And I was sitting on a chair with 3 other people, wasnt I just alone and infront of a cabin before ending up in a supposed round. They all turn their gaze towards me, I shift uncomfortably.

"So noob was right, theres a new survivor..." A man with brown curly hair and a shirt that says 'blame john' speaks, looking at me with pity, the same goes for everyone around the table. Then they all stood up, and I did so to. "Whats your name, kid?" The same yellow guy who saved my life looks at me.

"...[name]" "Alright, name, why dont we introduce ourselves aswell, im elliot." Elliot point to the guy with the 'Blame john' shirt. "Shedletsky. And..." Elliot pauses when he points at a man with a burger hat, and blue shirt with a odd looking face infront. Elliot glares at him, the man looks away out of discomfort, and perhaps guilt? "007n7... Best not to talk to him." I let out a quiet 'hm', turning to Elliot. "Why?" "He's done a lot of not so good things in the past..." Elliot continues to glare at 007n7. I thought to myself, well the past is the past, surely it couldnt be that bad. "And theres others, but im sure they're resting, we'll meet them tomorrow. Welcome to forsaken, well... Its not the best place to be in..." I tilt my head, curious and/or confused of what they mean. "How come?" He mutters something, along the lines of 'to many questions', I slightly raise a brow, how rude. By this time the 2 have already left, doing whatever. "It's a looping hell, we spawn in a round, finish generators or die. It repeats. Theres no way to escape this hell..." I hum, eternal hell? No escape? Repeat? Who sent me here, and why...

When did I get here, how did I get here... Hm...

Well then... Shall we retrace your steps?

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To be continued

Next part will be y/n's lore 😋 and also they're a survivor in this

[peachhcs]

through the years with them

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

quinn, jack, and grace have always been in charge of luke, samy, and will growing up. whether it's in toronto, michigan, or massachusetts, it was always 3v3.

wc: 3.9k

happy new year everyone!!! wishing you all a beautiful and safe and happy 2025🩷 after writing flashbacks in my christmas fic, i was inspired to write more memories between the hughes-smith siblings growing up all together

au masterlist

WINTER OF 2011

it was the first real snowfall of winter which meant all the kids raced outside to play in the fluffy powder. ellen and colleen worked to bundle up all of their kids to make sure no one got frost bite while also lecturing at quinn to make sure everyone kept their hats and gloves on even if they didn't want to.

"yeah, mom. i know," the twelve year old rolled his eyes watching his little sister struggle to zip her coat before he went over to help her with it. samy grinned. "thanks q," she mumbled and grabbed her hat from ellen.

"you guys are all in charge of the little ones, okay? make sure they behave and if you go on the ice, be careful," it was all stuff the three older ones heard before.

"yeah, mom, don't worry. we'll keep the monsters in line," jack grinned and ruffled up luke's curly blonde hair. the younger boy swatted his hand away. "don't do that."

once everyone was bundled up, the kids were set loose into the hughes' backyard. toronto winters were a lot colder compared to boston winters, so will and grace weren't used to such frigid temperatures when they got outside. luke made a break for the rink as usual, so jack followed after him. will followed after them which meant quinn had to follow them too. grace helped samy through the piles of snow, always wanting to follow her brothers and do what they were doing.

"i wanna shoot," luke said, grabbing his stick from the fence. he just got on with his boots because he slid just as easily as he would on skates.

"let's do a game," jack suggested since that was something all six of them could do.

"no, last time we did it with all six of us someone got hurt," quinn immediately shot down the idea being the older brother he was. he was not about to take the fall again if someone got hurt because last time, moose nearly broke his arm and quinn got blamed for it when it wasn't even his fault, moose was just clumsy.

"come on, q. we'll be careful. we can't even go that hard with six year olds with us," jack looked over at will and samy.

"i heard that!" her little voice said and the middle hughes just shrugged.

"fine but if someone gets hurt, it's not my fault," the oldest hughes finally gave in and grabbed his stick. they split the teams so each of them had a fair advantage which meant quinn and jack were on opposite teams. quinn took his little sister and grace, who actually wasn't half bad considering she didn't even play. jack had luke and will, confident in their abilities to take down quinn's team filled with all girls.

the kids slid across the ice in their boots, occasionally falling down because they couldn't stop as easily, but it was still fun nonetheless. there wasn't a time those kids weren't out on the homemade rink their parents built for them. it was definitely a huge attraction whenever friends came over.

jack tried crowding quinn. the older boy passed over to grace who successfully skated passed luke and put it into the back of the net. she lifted her arms in victory.

"nice! we're up 2," quinn smiled, the two high fiveing as he slid by. jack let out a frustrated groan.

they set back up and went again. luke started getting a bit more aggressive as he tried pushing past the girls this time. he was very determined to score at least one goal.

"moose, eyes up or you're gonna hit someone not looking," quinn called as he watched his little brother run across the ice.

"my eyes are up!" luke yelled back, but as soon as he said that, he lifted his stick to take a swing at the puck that samy had. unfortunately, luke's eyes were not up and his stick flew right into samy's chin.

the girl fell over and tears immediately pooled in her eyes. the others' eyes widened as grace and quinn raced over to her. "oh shoot. shoot. she's bleeding," quinn panicked and cupped her chin where the blood dripped onto his glove.

"we need to get her back inside," grace said and the two helped the girl up.

jack, luke, and will stood there in shock as the blood dripped everywhere from the rink to the snow as grace and quinn rushed her back inside.

"come on," jack mumbled and pulled the other two back up to the house.

"am i gonna get in trouble?" now luke was crying because he didn't wanna get in trouble.

"mom!" quinn yelled as soon as they were inside. the urgency in his voice made ellen come running from the kitchen where her eyes widened seeing so much blood on both of her kids.

"what happened? is she okay?" samy was still crying as ellen grabbed her from quinn's arms.

"moose accidentally hit her with his stick," quinn explained as jack came in with luke and will.

"she's bleeding so much. jim! jim, get in here," ellen called and then colleen, bill, and jim were rushing into the foyer where the kids watched the scene unfold.

"i'll get her a cloth," colleen said.

"we should take her to the emergency room," jim said as he inspected the deep incision.

ellen and jim rushed around to get their coats on while quinn finally went to a still crying luke. "hey, it was an accident. it's not your fault," he tried shushing the younger boy.

"i didn't mean to hit her. is she gonna die?" the second youngest cried.

"no, she's not gonna die, moosey, don't worry. she'll be okay. mom and dad are gonna take her to the emergency room where they'll make her better," quinn reassured.

"we'll be back, kids, colleen and bill are gonna watch you," ellen said to her kids before her and jim hurried out the door with samy.

"it's okay, luke. it's not your fault, okay?" colleen came to comfort the boy too. she swept him into a hug where he cried into her shoulder.

"why don't you guys find something to do in the meantime? i'll let you know what your mom says," she said and the others nodded. quinn led them to the basement where jack immediately turned on the ps3.

"she'll probably just need some stitches and she'll be fine. it's like when i needed stitches in my finger after accidentally cutting it with a knife," jack shrugged, always the calm one in these situations.

"you were really lucky you didn't lose a finger," quinn mumbled.

"it didn't look that deep, so i'm sure she'll be fine. she'll be in high spirits once she gets back," grace said.

"i knew we shouldn't have played," the oldest hughes was still mad because he literally said something like this would happen and they still played anyway.

"are you blaming me now? it's not my fault. i wasn't even going that hard. luke was the one not looking," jack quickly shot back hearing his brother's words.

"you're the one who suggested playing. i didn't even wanna play!" now the brothers were arguing and grace quickly mediated.

"it's no one's fault, okay? no one's mad and no one's blaming anyone. just a freak accident," she said firmly which made the older boys finally ease off one another.

almost two hours passed when ellen and jim returned. they hurried upstairs to greet them where samy now had a large bandaid across her chin, but at least she was smiling.

"tell them how brave you were," ellen smiled as she helped get her coat off.

"i was super brave and i got candy after!" samy exclaimed and proudly showed her brothers the bandage. luke was hiding behind colleen's leg still feeling guilty about the whole thing.

"hey, now you'll have a wicked scar and you can tell people you fought a bear or something!" jack exclaimed making the others laugh. samy saw luke hiding and went over to him where he nervously stepped back afraid he would hurt her again.

"i'm okay, moosey, see?" the brunette showed her brother her bandaid proving she was okay. luke stared at her for a moment before pulling her into a hug.

"i'm sorry i hit you. i'm glad you're okay," he said.

"it's okay. i forgive you," samy said and the parents smiled watching the two make up.

"now remind me that you guys aren't allowed on the rink unless we're out there with you," ellen squeezed quinn's chin who flushed.

"right," the older boy mumbled.

SUMMER OF 2014

"oh, why are you so dressed up?" jack teased as quinn raced by everyone sitting down in the basement trying to stay somewhat cool. the past week had been boiling and after doing all of the outdoor activities that could keep them cool, everyone was now inside in the air conditioning attempting to stop sweating so much. jack watched his older brother run by looking rather nice for the late afternoon.

"none of your business," quinn mumbled as he stopped in the mirror to look himself over, fixing his hair.

"he's got a date!" samy exclaimed after eavesdropping on her brother's phone call the other day. everyone's eyes widened while quinn quickly glared at his sister.

"a date? no way," jack mumbled, sitting up more so he could watch his brother.

"is it with that girl you were flirting with at the bonfire the other night?" grace chirped making the middle hughes quickly snicker. now that they were getting older, the parents were finally letting the older three go out more with the neighborhood kids. there had been a bonfire a few days ago someone was hosting that quinn, jack, and grace attended.

"oooh, i knew you had eyes on her!" jack exclaimed making quinn's blush even worse.

"do you guys ever mind your business? especially you, samy. i thought we talked about eavesdropping on other people," the older boy mumbled in annoyance. the youngest hughes had been having a really big problem with eavesdropping lately and she was entering her tattletale phase that quinn dreaded because he already dealt with it three times.

"you were talking loud. what was i supposed to do? not listen?" samy shrugged.

"yes, not listen," quinn said.

"it's gonna be fine, don't worry. she seemed to really like you," grace hummed as she got up to help the dark-haired boy with the last of his buttons in his haste to fix his hair.

"you think so?" quinn wondered feeling some self doubt in himself. he'd never really been on a date before, but he did know that he had to pay for her things and hold the doors open for her and possibly hold her hand if that's what she wanted.

"i know so because she even asked me about you when you guys were done talking. i said you're a really cool hockey player and one of the best big "brothers" i have," grace's words brought a smile to quinn's lips hearing her say that. a bit of relief flooded his system.

"thanks, gg," the boy smiled down at her as she finished his last buttons.

"looking spiffy. hope you guys kiss tonight!" jack exclaimed making the other littles chuckle.

"shut up," quinn rolled his eyes and looked at himself one more time.

"when are we gonna be old enough to go to bonfires?" luke complained, his face in his hands.

"when you're twelve," jack said with a snicker, always boasting about his privileges that he had that his younger siblings didn't.

"so next year!" luke exclaimed with excitement.

"aw wait, that means you're leaving me with will," samy made the realization and the younger blonde made a face.

"hey, rude," will rolled his eyes.

"maybe that means you guys will finally get along if you spend some time together," jack mumbled and slid back into the couch to continue gaming.

"whatever," samy mumbled and rolled her eyes. she definitely took after jack's sassy attitude.

they all wished quinn goodbye as he rushed out of the house a few minutes later. while we was gone, grace and samy decided to bake cookies while the boys stayed downstairs playing on the wii. the oldest hughes didn't return until a few hours later where a very lovestruck expression sat on his features.

"so? how'd it go?" jack exclaimed when caught sight of his brother.

"did you kiss??" luke added.

"oh they definitely kissed," jack commented when he saw quinn's rosy cheeks.

"it was great. she was really nice and we're gonna try and hang out again before summer ends," the older boy explained briefly.

"ooh, someone's in loveeee. quinn and rachel sitting in a tree. k-i-s-s-i-n-g. first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage," the youngest hughes brother teased making quinn smack his arm.

"shut up," the boy grumbled. the others just laughed as quinn ran upstairs to hide for the rest of the night and text rachel. being a teenager first meant all of the younger ones had a million and one questions for quinn when it came to dating and just being a teenager in general.

SUMMER OF 2020

samy came down the stairs, her phone in hand and ready to walk out the door when quinn, who caught a glimpse of her outfit, immediately stopped her.

"where are you going?" he crossed his arms and the girl rolled her eyes.

"i'm going out," she shrugged and the vagueness nearly pissed the older boy off. the others caught wind of the conversation and poked their heads out from the kitchen.

"out where dressed like that?" quinn asked again. her shirt was cut low and the skirt she had on was way too short for quinn's liking because he was not letting his baby sister leave the house like that.

ellen, jim, colleen, and bill were gone for the weekend up north for a wedding which meant quinn, jack, and grace reverted back to their roles of being in charge with them gone. quinn was the first one to crack down and the younger brunette huffed as she eyed grace watching the exchange happen a few feet away.

"just out. will and i were invited to this bonfire. i don't know what the big deal is," samy began and tried looking at grace to back her up on this one and get quinn off her back.

"will's not the one dressed like he's gonna get laid," quinn shot back.

"okay, that was a bit much, q," grace finally cut in.

"what? look at her outfit! she's not fooling anyone," the older boy stepped aside so everyone else could take in the youngest girl's outfit choice for the night.

"this is literally what you were doing when you were my age, i don't understand why you're being a brat right now," samy argued back and quinn's gaze snapped back to her.

"you're the one being a brat, not me."

"okay, okay. where are you guys even going? who's bonfire is it?" the older blonde stepped in to mediate like always. she glanced between her brother and samy.

"it's literally two doors down from here. it's a five minute walk," samy said and looked at will who nodded.

"is that tommy's house? me and him used to be close," jack chirped up.

"yeah, his sister is hosting a small thing for people in the area. it's not even gonna be big. there won't be alcohol," samy added and quinn scoffed.

"i've heard that one before because i've used that one before," he mumbled.

"you're not even my dad why are you acting like this? i thought siblings were supposed to like..cover for one another and shit. did turning 21 get to your head?" samy turning fifteen had been rough on everyone. it wasn't that quinn didn't trust her, it was that he didn't trust other people because he lived through all of this already. he just wanted to look out for her so she didn't make the same mistakes he did when he was fifteen.

"someone's moody.." luke muttered under his breath making jack laugh and grace hit his arm to shut up before it set either of them off anymore.

"what if luke goes? will that make it any better?" samy pointed at her brother standing off the the side. the second youngest immediately shook his head.

"no, no don't bring me into this. i don't really wanna hang out with fifteen year olds," luke mumbled.

"ouch," will joked.

"you know what i mean," the curly brunette said.

"what will make it better is if you change your outfit. i don't approve of this," quinn eyed his sister's shirt and skirt again, shaking his head.

"why? this is literally what grace was wearing when she was my age three years ago. it's not even that bad. it's hot out," the older siblings exchanged a glance while they figured out what to do.

"what if we compromise? you're wearing a zip up hoodie with that and you and will are not to leave without one another, got it? you have to come back here together, no excuses," grace finally said and looked at quinn for approval. the older boy rolled his eyes but nodded.

"ugh, fine. whatever," she ran back upstairs to find a hoodie. quinn breathed out a sigh while jack and luke just snickered.

"god, i hate it here," the older boy mumbled and grace reached over to rub his arm with a small chuckle.

"teenagers, am i right?" jack snickered, reaching over to nuzzle his brother's head.

"don't talk to me about teenagers right now," quinn said and they heard samy's footsteps on the stairs again. she came back with a black zip up hoodie over her shirt.

"better?" she asked and quinn finally nodded.

"better. thank you. be safe, be good. don't do something stupid. look after each other. call if you need anything," quinn said to the two as he sent them on their way.

"yeah, we know. bye q, bye guys," samy rushed will out the door before they were stopped again and the oldest hughes blew out a sigh. he glanced at the others who laughed.

"do i remember being 15," jack shook his head slightly and wandered back into the living room.

"what a horrible age," quinn mumbled.

FALL OF 2022

thanksgiving was in michigan this year. the smiths flew over a few days before and while samy was out on a date, the other kids were at home catching up. it was still a bit foreign to have the youngest hughes out on a date the night before thanksgiving, but ellen cut the chirping from her brothers and let her go. while they talked about samy's date and mumbled things about how grown up she was now, will stayed silent.

the idea of samy out on a date bugged him way more than he wanted it do and the feelings he'd been having the past month and a half were confusing him still because on one hand, samy was still his best friend and the girl he grew up with. on the other hand, she was starting to become all the blonde could think about.

luke noticed his friend's quietness first. anytime they talked about kevin will would go silent. they didn't know about the jealousy brewing between the two boys over the youngest hughes nor did will really wanna tell them.

"you're being weird and quiet," luke being luke though always pointed it out. quinn, jack, and grace's gazes snapped over to the younger blonde.

"you okay?" grace asked her brother and he shook her pestering hand away. "yeah, i'm fine," he mumbled.

"i've heard that one before," jack teased a bit.

"what's up? do you not like kevin or something?" luke poked some more and the blonde's face burned.

"you could say that," he mumbled embarrassingly and that made the other siblings raise their eyebrow.

"oh?" they all quickly became curious in what will was thinking, but the blonde didn't wanna explain because explaining meant admitting the possible feelings he felt for samy and he was not about to do that in front of her brothers.

"i just don't really like him. simple," will shrugged and hoped that would get them off his back. he walked away before they could interrogate more too. that made the four exchange a glance at the younger boy's strange behavior.

"what was that about?" jack mumbled when will was out of earshot.

"he's been weird lately. i don't know why," luke shrugged but he didn't know anything more and also never poked to ask more.

quinn, being the observer he was of all of his siblings, had a feeling he knew exactly what was on will's mind. he's seen it before because he's felt it before. being 17 and having obvious feelings for someone was pretty easy to see, at least that's what quinn thought.

later, he found will on the back deck on his phone. quinn approached carefully, "hey," the older boy said. will looked up at him, curious, "hey?"

"your little..whatever earlier..i know how you feel," the older boy sat down beside will for a moment and the blonde's cheeks flushed. he avoided his gaze.

"you do?"

"come on, smitty. i was 17 once too," a small laugh left quinn's lips.

"i don't even know if i like her. it's been..weird these past few weeks," the blonde finally admitted like he was embarrassed even though there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

"you know if anyone was gonna catch feelings between all of us i had a feeling it would be you and samy," the dark-haired boy laughed to himself.

"what does that mean?" will pinched his eyebrows together.

"i don't know. you guys have grown pretty close over the past few years. i remember when you hated one another and then suddenly all you did was hang out together. it's not hard to tell, will," the older hughes poked will's arm and he flushed again.

"oh."

"i also don't like kevin. i'd definitely prefer you if anything did happen.." quinn said with a smirk.

"uh..well i don't even know if samy likes me. she probably doesn't so i wouldn't get your hopes up about that," the blonde said.

"i'm just saying. you never know. things happen. things change. either way, i get how you're feeling and if you ever need to talk about it, i'm here," quinn didn't wanna poke will too much about it so he left it at that as he got back up.

the blonde was left to think about the older boy's words until samy got back home an hour later. he joined her brothers in asking her out the date went to which she said it went fine.

"you guys are annoying," the brunette mumbled as she snacked on some chips.

"we're just nosy, actually," jack snickered to himself.

"yeah, really nosy. i'm gonna change," samy rolled her eyes and disappeared upstairs. will met quinn's glance who winked and the younger boy flushed.

if anything, all the older siblings noticed will's longing looks and eventuall samy's as the year went on, they just chose not to say anything because after years of thinking the other had cooties, it was hard to believe there might've been feelings there.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

heyyy!! HEAR ME OUT 🆘🆘 yk how kids spell santa wrong sometimes and they write satan. since christmas is coming wouldnt it be funny if satan got letters from human children??

Hiii. I'm absolutely obsessed over your request and I guess we're starting off the Christmas season in November? Anyway. I hope you enjoy this one.

Summary: Satan receiving letters addressed to him instead of Santa and dealing with them.

There isn't an MC in this story. (Forgot to add them) So we'll pretend this was before the exchange program

Masterlist

Santa-Satan?

Satan was having a peaceful afternoon in the living room, a rare moment of tranquility in the House of Lamentation. He sipped his tea and flipped a page of his latest novel when suddenly, with a poof, a small mountain of envelopes materialized on the coffee table.

Satan stared at the pile. "What is this? Who dares disrupt my reading?" He picked up one of the letters and squinted at the messy handwriting on the front:

"Dear Satan..."

His brow twitched. "Oh, no. Not again."

Lucifer strolled into the room, holding a cup of coffee. He took one look at the stack of letters and smirked. "Ah, the annual Santa-Satan debacle. Always a highlight of the season."

Satan slammed the letter on the desk. "This isn't funny, Lucifer! Why are human children incapable of spelling? Or using spell-check!" He held up an envelope. "This one just says, 'Dear Satan, I want a pony. Love, Jessica.' Do I look like someone who hands out ponies?!"

Lucifer arched a brow. "Well, you do have a soft spot for cats. Ponies aren’t much of a stretch."

Mammon burst in, munching on a cookie. "Oi, what's all the yellin' about? Ohhh, are those Christmas letters?!" He grabbed a random letter and read it aloud:

"Dear Satan, I've been VERY good this year. Can you please bring me a PS5 and a puppy? Thank you!"

Mammon snorted. "Heh, maybe you should deliver a PS5, Satan. It’d make you less cranky."

Satan glared. "Oh sure, Mammon. Let me just conjure a PlayStation out of thin air and hand-deliver it to this... Timmy." He sighed dramatically. "As if my reputation isn't tarnished enough, now children think I'm a knock-off Santa."

Leviathan poked his head into the room. "Wait, is this about the time you accidentally sent a hellhound to a kid instead of a golden retriever? That was classic!"

Satan groaned. "How was I supposed to know the summoning circle would work on a child’s drawing?!"

---

The letters soon became a family affair. Asmodeus had gathered a few to read, giggling over the cute handwriting. "Aw, this one says, 'Dear Satan, I want my big brother to stop being mean to me.' Isn’t that just precious?"

Mammon: "I think pretty much all of us want that don't we?"

Lucifer, giving Mammon the death stare while sipping from his cup: "What did you say, Mammon?"

Mammon mumbling: "Nothin"

Beelzebub, halfway through a pie, mumbled, "If they ask for food, I can help."

Belphegor yawned. "Why don’t you just ignore them? They’ll figure it out eventually."

Satan stormed in, clutching another letter. "This one asked me to make it snow on Christmas! Do they think I’m some sort of weather deity?! AND WHY IS THERE GLITTER IN THESE ENVELOPES?" He shook his hand, scattering sparkles everywhere.

---

Eventually, the brothers decided to "help" Satan deal with the letters.

Mammon: "I’ll handle the gifts. These kids want money, right? I can chuck some Grimm at them."

Satan: "They’re human children. They don’t use Grimm!"

Leviathan: "What if we send them anime merch? Everyone loves anime!"

Asmodeus: "Or beauty kits! They’ll thank you later."

Satan pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is a disaster."

Lucifer finally intervened, adjusting his gloves with a sigh. "Enough. Clearly, Satan can’t handle this alone. I’ll take care of the mix-up, like always."

Satan glared. "Excuse me, I can handle it. I just don’t want to."

Lucifer smirked. "Of course you don’t."

---

By the end of the week, Satan managed to write curt but polite replies:

"Dear Jessica, I don’t do ponies. Try spelling ‘Santa’ correctly next time. Best, Satan."

Meanwhile, Lucifer, dressed in a suspiciously festive red coat, handled the logistics of redirecting the letters.

As the chaos died down, Satan finally returned to his book—only for another poof of letters to appear.

Satan: "...I’m moving to the Celestial Realm."

[pjmmania]

If Snow Decides to Fall

4. “I need the truth.”

Chapter Warnings: Heavy smut (the heaviest, Jimin and reader get super kinky), pregnancy, explicit language, profanity, angst, misogynistic language

Taglist: @marihoneywk

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*One year ago*

The guys were gathering on the set of a new in-house photo shoot. The ones who weren’t in a chair for hair and makeup were just sitting around, passing the time with casual conversation. All but one had arrived.

“I’m going to call him again,” Hoseok sighed to Taehyung and Namjoon, “I mean, he’s always the last one, but he’s pretty damn late this time.”

The man in question was going through one of the roughest periods in all their years together. The past couple of weeks had been joyless for him, the days unbearably hard to get through.

Right as he pulled out his phone, the lagging man appeared from the door to the set. He was clad in sweatpants and a hoodie, looking as if he’d just woken up.

“There he is,” Namjoon nudged Hoseok before calling out, “Jimin-ah!”

The man pushed his straight, dirty blonde hair out out of his eyes and smiled tiredly as he made his way over, “Morning.”

Taehyung chuckled to cover up the deep concern he had for his friend, “It’s two in the afternoon.”

None of them needed to ask him what was wrong, or why he’d obviously slept in so late. Namjoon put his arm around his shoulder, “Day by day. Just keep pushing through.”

Distantly, Jimin nodded, looking down, “I’m fine, guys. I’ve been through harder things than this.”

His words weren’t exactly believable, but the group got the sense that he wasn’t in the mood to dive deep into it yet, so they let it be.

Then Jimin was called by one of the makeup artists to go and sit in one of the vanity chairs. He left the small cluster of members to do as he was told, plopping down in the chair next to Yoongi with a yawn. He appeared to tune most things out, simply going through the motions of life.

Hoseok looked at Taehyung and Namjoon, “He’s really not looking great. I’m worried.”

“He’ll be okay eventually,” Taehyung sighed, “He’s just going through the first phase of a breakup. Soon enough he’ll be pissed at her, like we all are.”

The leader clicked his teeth and shook his head, "Seoyeon...I don't know if I've ever gone from liking to loathing someone like this. Whenever I think about what she did, I feel like running through a brick wall."

The other two concurred. Their smack talk was interrupted by the door opening and closing. In came the stylists with their outfits. There were two women. One was Chaeyoung, and the other was a brand-new face.

The trio tried not to stare rudely, but they couldn't help it. They couldn't remember the last time someone new joined the team, so this was intriguing. Luckily, the women made their way to them first, seeing that they were done with hair and makeup, and ready to change clothes. They wheeled the clothing racks, hanging on which were seven garment bags with seven names.

"Hi," Chaeyoung chirped, "You guys know the drill. Find your bag and go change. We'll help with any adjustments."

She noticed that they were looking at the newcomer, waiting to be introduced. She smirked, "Oh, and this Y/N, our new team member. Y/N, this is Namjoon, Hoseok, and Taehyung."

You already knew who they were, of course, but you were able to conceal most of your embarrassment as you bowed your head slightly, "Hello, it's nice to meet you all."

They were extremely warm and friendly.

"Welcome," Taehyung smiled, "We will try not to make you regret taking this job. At least not right away."

You laughed, "I'd appreciate that."

Always emotionally intuitive, the leader noticed the blush on your cheeks. He could tell you were a little starstruck and playfully pushed Taehyung to ease your nerves, "Ah, don't listen to him. We're an easygoing group. Thanks for being here."

You looked at his kind face and nodded. Then, the three took their individual bags and went to change. They'd be in suits today - the photoshoot had a distinguished and suave aesthetic.

Over in hair and makeup, Jin watched the interaction. Subtly, he gestured over to you without moving his head too much, "Who's that?"

Jungkook and Yoongi glanced in the same direction, while Jimin remained zoned out.

One of the makeup artists replied, "That's Y/N. She just started. Chaeyoung has sort of taken her under her wing for now, but apparently she’s expected to be quite an asset to the team.”

The woman who was fixing Yoongi’s hair gave further context, “I heard she comes from the runway world.”

As each of them were given their finishing touches and sent away to go get changed, they came up and introduced themselves to you. Chaeyoung was amused with how bashful you were acting, when she’d already seen a more confident side of you. It was like a receiving line of global superstars, saying hello to you, one after another. Your first impressions of their personalities were a fair match to what you expected.

Jimin was the only one you didn’t get to formally meet, but you didn’t notice. By the time he got up from his vanity chair to come and grab his garment bag, you were already occupied with the task of tweaking the other members’ looks. Your back was turned to him as he left to go change, fixing Jungkook’s tie. You wanted them to be worn a tad looser than normal.

A few minutes later, the last member returned in his suit. His eyes were trained on the cuff of his jacket, which had a loose button. Wondering if there was time to fix this, he lifted his gaze to find the nearest stylist. There was one he recognized brushing over Jungkook’s lapels with a lint roller, so he headed that way.

A hand on your shoulder caught you off guard, halting you from rolling the tape cylinder over the black fabric of Jungkook’s jacket. You turned around to find Jimin standing right in front of you. He had a casual smile on his face, which faded as soon as he realized that you weren’t who he thought you were.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he bowed his head a little, “I thought you were someone else. Are you new?”

The youngest member smirked, “Did you not hear, hyung?”

“Uh, no,” he grinned awkwardly, “Sorry.”

You laughed, feeling a bit uncomfortable yourself, “It’s alright. I’m Y/N, I started a couple of weeks ago. Nice to meet you.”

“You too. I’m Jimin,” he smiled, pushing himself to be more cordial than he felt like, being so worn out, “I have a loose button on my cuff here. Could we pin it back down or something?”

“I can fix it,” You nodded, “I’ll just need a flat surface. Come this way.”

There was a table you spotted set up away from the set, against the wall. Nothing fancy, just a collapsable table with water bottles and some snacks for the crew. When you got to it, you cleared some space and pulled up a black folding chair to sit.

Anticipating the next step, Jimin took off his jacket and handed it to you, leaving him in the classic white button up and the black tie. As you took it from his hand, you made brief eye contact. What everyone had said about him turned out to be totally true - his eyes were much harder to meet than the others. They were bigger in person, able to pull anyone right in without even trying. He was just gorgeous. You were afraid that if you looked at him for too long, you wouldn't be able to focus and resort to humiliating yourself. The game of acting professionally had just become more challenging.

You cleared your throat and laid the jacket on the table where it was needed. The rest of it fell on your lap. Then you unzipped your waist pouch, where you always kept some supplies handy. Watching you pull out a needle, some black thread, and tiny scissors, the man standing over you spoke with a bit of urgency, "Oh, I don't know if you have time to full-on sew it. I appreciate it, but maybe just a pin would be fine?"

You quickly glanced at the set. They seemed about ready to go, but you knew what you were doing, "It'll only take me a minute."

With that, you turned the cuff inside out and snipped the loose thread, pulling it out and removing the button completely. The needle was poised between your teeth.

Jimin put his hand on the table, putting some of his weight on it. His blonde hair, parted in the middle, draped forward and covered a little bit of his eyes, "I get the feeling this isn't the first time you've done this."

Focusing on your task, or at least trying to, your cheeks flushed. You felt the warmth in your face and mentally kicked yourself for it, praying he didn't notice. His voice was lower than you would have imagined. The interviews you'd seen of him all displayed a much lighter tone. Park Jimin was the only one out of the seven that was proving to go against your presuppositions.

You kept your attention on threading the needle, "I used to work backstage on runways, taking care of all the wardrobe malfunctions. I guess I learned to act fast."

It didn't occur to him that so soon after a wretched heartbreak, he could feel that feeling, but he did. That feeling when he made a woman blush, that prick in his ribs. Maybe it was only his subconscious trying to fill a void, or trying to gain some confidence back. Maybe he was simply intrigued by a woman who wasn’t falling at his feet, as he was so used to. Either way, it was there.

A smirk grew on his lips, “Then how on earth did you end up here?”

You were sewing the button back into the fabric of the jacket, laughing bashfully, “It was a fun environment and all, but I wanted to partake in the creative side for once. Evidently here I get to do both.”

He chuckled genuinely, and it gave you enough of a boost to make eye contact with him again. His grin was contagious this time, not intimidating.

“Are you assigned to our styling team specifically?” he asked you.

“I am.”

Oh, the fun of a little harmless flirting. He felt a lightness that he hadn’t felt in weeks, “Sorry to warn you, but we’re all a little clumsy with our wardrobes sometimes. There will probably be plenty more malfunctions to fix.”

You pulled the thread through, “I don’t care. It’s kind of fun to me, actually.”

“You’re done already?” his eyes went wide.

You snipped a little excess thread, “Mhm. I told you it would only take a minute.”

You rose from the chair and held up the jacket, positioning yourself behind him so he could put his arms through. He took the reins from there, tugging at the hems in front to straighten everything out.

Then he turned back to you with a half grin, “How do I look?”

You pursed your lips, failing to conceal your smile, “Fine, just one last thing.”

He wasn’t prepared for you to get so close to him, taking a hold of his tie. Your face was suddenly so near to his chest, and you could feel his eyes peering down on you.

Over on set, Taehyung saw this interaction. Without making a fuss, he gently elbowed Hoseok, chuckling, “Hey, remember how I said Jimin is going through the sad phase right now?”

He subtly gestured over to where the two of you were. Hoseok saw it immediately - the look he was giving you. He’d seen it many times before. It was the expression he always made when he had his sights set on a woman, locked in and calculating his next step, trying to figure you out.

Hoseok scoffed with a tiny smirk, leaning in to mutter in the other's ear, "Oh boy, I know that look."

"Yeah, I think I skipped a step in the middle of sadness and anger." the younger member sighed, arms crossed.

"A rebound?"

He laughed quietly, covering his mouth, "A rebound."

"Poor new girl," Hoseok whispered. If she was smart, she'd run the hell away. And Jimin should know better than to go after her, of all people. Staff are off limits."

"Eh," Taehyung shrugged, "Maybe he just wants a little flirtation, you know? It doesn't have to lead to anything scandalous."

Unrelated to their discreet conversation, Yoongi called out, "Jimin-ah! Hurry up!"

The shout brought you back to reality. You quickly worked your fingers to loosen his tie, just as you had with the others.

Jimin called back, "One second!"

He then returned his focus to you, admiring the cute, frazzled expression on your face. His voice was soft and raspy, "Did I not tie it to your liking, Y/N?"

You released a flustered laugh as you adjusted, "No, you did. But the concept here is supposed to be a little more relaxed. Debonaire, but not too stiff. Alright, that should be good."

"Thanks," he nodded courteously, beginning to step away, "I'll try not to ruin all your hard work."

You put your supplies back into your waist pouch and smiled, "You're welcome."

He returned to the set, joining the rest of the rest of the members with a refreshed, pleasant expression on his face. His mood had lifted, and although they couldn't openly say anything, all of the guys noticed. They shared glances with one another, all thinking the same thing.

Meanwhile, you went back to standing at Chaeyoung's side to watch them do the shoot, unaware that a simple and brief encounter had just changed the course of your life.

*Present day*

You were totally zoned out in this meeting, reflecting on the night before. The headspace that was supposed to be taken up by thoughts of the guys' pending tour was instead occupied by the words exchanged last night.

You couldn't shake the question he asked you and the way he asked it, with optimistic eyes and a curious smile. It echoed in your mind:

"Would you like to move in with me?"

It made your heart race with both elation and intimidation. The conversation that ensued was rational and calm. Jimin understood your shock at the proposition and told you to take some time to mull it over. You couldn't lie to yourself. It would make a lot of sense to live with him. You loved each other, and you were having a baby. Plus, this was one of the best ways to create that stable home environment - a little family living under one roof.

But if it wasn't for this baby, would he have wanted to? What did this mean for your future, not as parents, but as a couple? There was something to be said for remaining cautious with this. If you weren't at that point in your relationship, it could backfire to the detriment of the two of you and your child.

The Director of the Styling Department, Jang Sanghee, adjourned the meeting. As everyone else got up to go back to their personal work spaces, she called to you and Chaeyoung, “You two, please stay for a moment.”

You shared a look with your coworker and slowly sank back down into your chair at the long conference table.

Sanghee smiled at both of you once the door was closed. She was a warm woman, creative and smart. It was no wonder she was in this position. Her hair was a fitting shade of blonde and she always wore happy colors, matching her sunny disposition. She was someone the whole team respected and wanted to emulate.

“Ladies,” she folded her hands on the table, “First of all, thank you both for all your hard work on the concept for the tour. Because of your efforts, we are ahead of schedule. I wanted to speak with both of you due to a new development I’ve received from Management. The date for the boys’ new music video shoot has been confirmed for the first of September. I’m unable to attend this time, as my husband and I are taking a vacation for our anniversary, I’d like to send you two instead, since you’ve been working so close to this particular concept. You know the vision best.”

You were thrilled to have been asked, flattered that you were considered good enough to go. Chaeyoung smiled, “Wow, thank you so much. Have the looks been chosen for the music video yet?”

Your boss shook her head, “No, which is why it’s great that we are ahead of schedule with the tour. You can both take a pause on that for the coming weeks and pivot to this project.”

You inquired, “Where is the video being shot?”

“In Los Angeles,” Sanghee replied with a nod, “I will forward the email I got from Management about the location and the smaller details. You’ll love it, though. It’s a gorgeous, dated theater and we’re working with a large budget.”

Your heart dropped a little bit. You’d be five months along at that point. Though air travel would likely be safe for you, you’d need to consult with Doctor Yoon before accepting the offer. And that meant you’d need to tell Sanghee sooner than you planned. However, it was lucky that your check-up was in a few days. You’d be able to ask her then.

Chaeyoung’s excitement was evident, “It goes without saying, but I’d love to. Thank you again.”

Sanghee set her eyes on you next, tilting her head slightly to one side, “And you, Y/N? You don’t seem particularly enthused.”

You felt ashamed, unaware that it had been showing on your face. Instantly, you perked up and forced a more jubilant expression, “Oh, no I am. Thank you so much for choosing us. It’s just…I can’t give you a confirmation until Thursday. I hope that’s alright.”

The superior nodded, “Of course. May I ask why?”

You thought now was as good a time as ever, even though you really had no choice, and you trusted that both women would keep it confidential. You glanced behind to double check that the door was closed.

You inhaled deeply, “Well, I was planning to wait for a few more weeks to tell the office and HR, but I guess it’s alright to do it now. I’m expecting.”

Their eyes went wide, as did their smiles.

Chaeyoung, who was sitting next to you, brought you a hug, “Oh my gosh, congratulations!”

Sanghee grinned cordially, “That’s wonderful, Y/N. Congratulations. When are you due?”

“Early January,” you replied, face a bit pink from the flattery, “So I’m not very far along, but I’ll be right in the middle of it come September. That’s why I need to get my OBGYN’s approval to travel by air. I have an appointment this Thursday.”

Chaeyoung gasped excitedly, “Oh, that’s what these doctor’s appointments of yours have been for!”

You laughed. It was refreshing to receive a positive response to the news, for once. They would likely react very differently if they know who the father was, but they didn’t , so you’d take it.

Your boss stood up, grabbing her laptop, “Well then, you let me know what your doctor says and we will go from there.”

You nodded, “I will. Thank you very much.”

Sanghee left the meeting room to go back to her office. You and Chaeyoung followed her, walking side by side. She nudged you with her elbow gently and leaned over to whisper in your ear, “We’re going to lunch, on me.”

She was dying to know more, talking with her mouth full of bulgogi, “I need detail, Y/N. When did you find out? And who’s the father?”

You chuckled, taking a bite of your tteokbokki. The spice was likely to give you a little bit of heartburn, but you were craving it, “I’ve known for about a month.”

You had no idea how to answer the second question. Quickly, you shoved another mouthful of food in, giving yourself more time to think of a believable answer.

Chaeyoung looked at you expectantly, “Aaand? Come on, who is it?”

You swallowed, “He’s someone I’ve been seeing for a while. Nothing super serious, but I think he’ll stick around.”

She seemed to buy it, “That’s good. And hey, if it doesn’t work out it, don’t worry. Child support exists for a reason. What does he do for a living?”

You stammered, unable to make something up fast enough, “O-Oh, I really don’t think I should say. He’s a very private man.”

Chaeyoung grinned mischievously, “When a man is described as ‘private’, that means he’s rich. Is that true?”

You turned a shade of pink again, nodding bashfully, “Um, yeah. He’s affluent.”

She took her glass of water and clinked it against yours, giggling, “Cheers to that. I’m happy for you. I think you’ll be a great mom. The twins love you.”

You started to ease up, “Thanks, Chae. I have been coming around to it more and more. Any advice?”

“Oh, a ton!” She laughed, “I could go on for hours. I don’t want to overwhelm you, though, so my advice for right now is to hydrate well, buy a bigger bra because your boobs are about to get huge, and brace yourself to feel hornier than you ever have in your life.”

You broke into a laugh too, “Is it really that bad?”

She shrugged candidly, “I mean, it’s different for everyone, but I couldn’t keep my hands off my husband for weeks.”

Jimin entered your mind. Past images of him doing filthy things to you played like a film reel. You hadn’t been intimate since finding out about the pregnancy, and until recently, the thought never occurred to you. Both of you were far too concerned with more pressing matters. Now that the dust was settling, your desire for him was coming back with a vengeance.

“We’ll see.” you said.

“So if you’re due in January,” Chaeyoung began to ponder aloud, “You’ll be back in time for the tour. That is, if you’d want to bring the baby along.”

You froze. How could it have never crossed your mind? The tour would kick off in May. You were expected to go, as a stylist. Of course, no one had a clue that your employment would probably be terminated by then, as you and Jimin would likely make an announcement before the baby was born or shortly after.

However, there was a good chance that your job status wouldn’t matter. You had yet to discuss it, but you assumed that you’d be going along on the tour anyway. Surely, neither of you would want the baby separated from Jimin for that long.

“No pressure, of course,” Chaeyoung assured you after noticing that you were lost in thought, “The company would never mandate you to go with a newborn. At that point, it would have only been four months.”

You nodded, “Right. I guess it will come down to doctor’s advice.”

“Speaking of that,” she said, “Do you think you’ll be allowed to go to LA?”

You breathed out, collecting another bite of tteokbokki in your chopsticks, “I hope so. From what I understand, everything is normal. I had a clean bill of health at my first appointment.”

“I hope you can go too. I don’t know if I could manage all of that alone.”

“I’m sure you could,” you grinned, talking with your mouth full, “Plus, the guys will be happy to know you’re going. I think they enjoy the banter with you.”

She nodded, “Yes, but it will be the same for you too once you’ve travelled with them, like if you go on the tour. I’ve been with them since the early days, you know. They’ve grown to trust me. I’ve seen them go through a lot, even heartbreaks.”

You swallowed and took some water to handle the spice, “Heartbreaks?”

“Yeah,” she said with a sad look in her eyes, “I’m only sharing this with you because you’ve been around their girlfriends before and maintained the code of silence.”

You sat on the edge of your chair, hushing your voice, “What is it?”

She glanced around the two of you in the restaurant, making sure no one was within earshot. Then she looked at you and leaned forward, “Before you were hired, Jimin had a long-term girlfriend. I won’t say her name, but he was head over heels for her. A bunch of us on staff were betting that he’d marry her one day.”

It felt like you’d been kicked in the gut, “I see…When did they break up?”

She tried to recollect the timeline, “Hm, it was really close to when you started. Maybe a couple weeks?”

Your eyes widened, “A couple weeks?”

Jimin never mentioned this woman before. To hear that he’d been in love so close to meeting you sent a bad feeling down your spine. It made you jealous and frustrated…and frustrated that you were jealous.

Chaeyoung took another bite of her meal, humming with a nod, “If I’m remembering it correctly. None of the boys ever said so, but I’m almost positive she was the one who ended things. The poor guy was a wreck. It was horrible to watch, really. We all think she was using him.”

“For what?” You inquired, “Fame?”

“In essence, yes. And money. She’d get to go to all these big star-studded parties with him and rub elbows. She moved on to some big CEO here in Seoul, I’m pretty sure.”

You erased any indication of upset from your body language, “That’s awful. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “My guess is that she had almost everything she wanted in him, except for one thing - publicity. Jimin’s always been super private, and she wanted the notoriety. I think she stuck around for so long, thinking that he’d get there one day, but nope.”

There was a sharp echo of what your parents were trying to convince you - that he’d never get around to going declaring this relationship in public. You shoved it away. This was a totally different scenario.

“How long did they date?” You asked.

“A little over two years.”

You were dumbfounded. How could you have never heard about this clearly significant part of his past? You wanted to know more without sounding nosy.

“That’s a long time for her to hang on, if what she wanted was to be seen with him.” You disguised a question with as a general statement, hoping it won’t prompt her to divulge the information you wanted.

Chaeyoung’s perfectly shaped eyebrows went up, “Well that’s the thing. He did take her out on dates.”

“How?” your brows furrowed, “They were never caught, right?”

She chuckled, “They did exactly what the other guys and their current girlfriends do. They wore masks, sunglasses, hats. They drove around with tinted windows. They went in the back entrance of places and reserved private rooms. And sometimes, they paid a tad extra for discretion. Before their time, idols were having to figure out how to do this. It’s like there’s an unwritten guide on how to date in their world. Nothing new.”

You felt so ingenuous. You knew there had to have been other partners in Jimin’s past, but it was off-putting that you were blind to one that had been there right before you got together. How could you not have known if he was just getting out of a serious relationship? And how could you move in with him without knowing all the facts? It was certainly a large thing to leave out, and it planted a most unwelcome seed:

How well did you truly know this man?

“Anyway,” Chaeyoung said, “When we get back to work, you should probably go tell HR. Now that your boss knows, you might as well tell them.”

Absentmindedly, you nodded, “Yeah…okay.”

All of the guys were gathered in Namjoon’s studio. Jimin had texted in their group chat that he needed a few minutes that afternoon to speak to them, and it had to be all of them at once.

Everyone was there now, so there was no point in drawing it out. He wanted to be able to look them all in the eye and announce it unabashedly, so he stood up. All of the members were looking at him with expectant faces, worried yet relieved that they were finally about to learn what had been going on.

“I know everyone has a busy day, so I’ll make this quick,” Jimin began, “I’m sorry that I’ve been hiding something from you all, and I know it’s been more obvious than I would have liked to admit. I only ask that you guys don’t freak out and listen to me.”

Jungkook gave him a slight nod while the rest remained silent in waiting. He took in a breath through his nose and then exhaled the last bit of nerves, ready to just get it over with. He didn’t even want to give them time to ask questions.

“There’s more going on between Y/N and me,” he said, “We’re having a baby.”

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Mouths were agape, eyes were wide, a few curse words were tossed around. Internally, none of them were as wildly upset as Namjoon. He knew something was deeply wrong. He just knew it. His gut had been proven right.

Not that he wanted to be flooded with horrible reactions, but Jimin was confused as the silence went on and on, “Um…Nobody has a comment on that?”

“I’ve got one,” Yoongi had his hands behind his head in shock, “How the fuck did this happen?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung’s face was more worried than upset, “No offense, but birth control is ridiculously easy to get these days. Were you really not being careful?”

He told them the truth, scratching the back of his head, “We have always been careful, aside from this one time.”

“Wait, so you purposefully had sex without protection?!” Jin scoffed, “Jimin, how could you? You were asking for it.”

He sighed, feeling the heat rise, “It wasn’t like that. I mean, yes, we were both getting caught up in the moment, but she assured me that it wasn’t that time…you know, in her cycle.”

There was a collective groan in the room. Namjoon felt his blood boil.

The confessor defended both of you, “Roll your eyes all you want, but it happened. She’s nine weeks along, and we’re doing this.”

“Look, I’m never one to tell people how to live their life,” Yoongi’s approach was much calmer this time, “But this is going to change everyone in this room. We have the right to be honest about that. Not to mention, it’s going to get your girlfriend fired. You are going to have to come clean about this sooner or later, you know that, right?”

Jimin was becoming slightly annoyed, “Of course I do. I’m not an idiot.”

He had to settle himself down a bit for continuing, “And you’re right. All of you do have the right to be uneasy about this. I know it’s going to impact all of your lives too, and I’m sorry about that. But that doesn’t mean you get to make me and Y/N feel guilty.”

“We’re not trying to make you feel guilty,” Taehyung shook his head, “It’s just…holy shit.”

Hoseok took a composing breath, “I mean…are you happy about this, Jimin?”

He sat back down, “More and more, I really am. I’m a little upset with myself and I’ve been strained by all the unknowns, of course, so that’s been hard. But I love her and from the moment she told me, I’ve had this sense that it’s all meant to be. I know it sounds weird, but that’s the truth.”

Jin, as the oldest, felt compelled to take the lead, “No, it doesn’t sound weird.”

The others all looked at him, confused. This included Jimin. The oldest member took note of this and continued to defend this stance, “Hey, this was always going to happen, right? It’s not like none of us want kids. I know I do. One of us had to be first. I think we should all do what we can to support and be glad that it’s with someone that he loves.”

Jungkook finally spoke up, “I agree. How we respond to this will set the precedent, but it goes way deeper than that. One of us is really going to be a dad. I’m happy for you both, hyung.”

Yoongi came around, smiling a little, "You know what? Fuck all of it. I'm happy for you too."

Jimin felt a wave of relief start to wash ashore, bit by bit. It turned out that Jungkook had been right. It took them a few minutes to come to terms with the news, but eventually all of them embraced it - all but one. He started getting hugs and encouraging pats on his shoulder, shows of support and congratulations. It made him wonder why he'd been so afraid to begin with. These men had gone to hell and back with him before, and they would do it again. His gratitude for their camaraderie reached new depths.

Now feeling more relaxed than he had all day, he noticed Namjoon sitting there with a tense look on his face. He was staring ahead at nothing, looking like he was in some form of trance.

"Joonie?" he questioned hesitantly, "You're the only one who hasn't said anything."

The leader snapped out of it, finding that six pairs of eyes were glued to him, observing his body language. He let out a sigh and looked down. It pained him, but he strongly felt that he needed to be a voice of reason here.

"Jimin, you're my little brother and I love you..."

Taehyung remarked in the background, "That doesn't sound good."

Namjoon went on, "And it's because I love you that I feel like I need to say this. We all watched you go through the worst heartbreak of your life a year ago. I can't bear the thought of you going through that again. What Seoyeon did to you was unconscionable."

Jimin hadn't heard that woman's name in a long time, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't still sting, but even greater than that was the knee-jerk reaction to defend the woman he loved now, "I hope you aren't insinuating what I think you are."

"Yeah," Jungkook stepped in, "You're not seriously comparing Y/N to that clout-chaser, are you?"

The leader played his cards civilly, "I am simply saying that I have questions. You said you both willingly had sex without protection, right?"

Your boyfriend's temper became short, "Yes, we did. The key word there is 'both'. It was a mutual choice. You can call it dumb, but we're both to blame for it."

"I understand that much, but what about the second part?" Namjoon raised another inquiry, "The fact that she told you she couldn't get pregnant? Does that not make you or anyone else here a little suspicious?"

Jimin was seething now, "So what, are you saying she lied to me?"

Jungkook put his hand on the fuming member's back, but had a bad feeling that this was going to escalate further. Jimin's eyes were burning.

"I'm saying you need to consider that very carefully. Think about it. A baby links her to you for the rest of your life. To you, your money, your fame. All of it."

Jimin put his face in his hands, using every ounce of strength not to blow up. The two youngest in the group focused on cooling him down, while the others joined forces against the heavy accusation.

"Namjoon," Hoseok scowled, "I can understand that you think you're protecting him, but I think you're way out of line. Y/N is not a gold-digger."

"Yeah, think about what you're saying," added Yoongi, "You're saying she got pregnant on purpose. It makes no sense."

Jin chimed in too, "I thought you'd given up on this idea after we talked at my apartment."

That made Jimin perk up again. He looked at Jin, and then back at Namjoon with a dagger gaze, "Oh, so you've thought this about her for a while, have you?"

Jin shrunk a little. It wasn’t his intention to pour gasoline on the fire.

Unappreciative of being ganged up on, the leader raised his voice, "Maybe I have, but only because I don't want you to be screwed over again! I won’t be gaslit by all of you for having a fucking memory.”

“I’ve got a memory too,” Jimin’s tone became more aggressive, “And mine shows me that she couldn’t be more different than Seoyeon.”

“Yeah, well you’ve been thinking with your dick ever since you met Y/N, so maybe your judgement is clouded.” the leader spat.

The room erupted with a collective scorn of what had just been said. Jimin shot up. It was time to remove himself from these surroundings, otherwise this would go to a place he might live to regret. Rarely had he ever been so angry, and never at Namjoon.

His entire face was tight with fury, a vein in his neck bulging out, “I’m not going to just sit here and listen to this shit anymore. I’ve said all I needed to say.”

He turned around and stormed out of the room. Shutting the door behind him, he used his last bit of self-control not to slam it. Such a crashing sound would alarm the entire floor. However, this left him with a body filled with resentful energy. He began a brisk walk toward the stairwell, fists screaming at him for permission to punch a hole in the wall.

He opened the door to the stairwell and started to hustle down. It would be a long way to the lower floors, where a practice room would be waiting for him, but he needed the physical exertion.

Rounding the corner onto the sixth level, you appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He ran into you, making him realize how rage-blurred his mind had become. Jimin snapped out of it instantly, worried that he'd hurt you.

"Shit," he checked you with a quick scan of your frame, "I'm sorry, baby. Are you alright?"

You gasped when he used your pet name and darted your gaze around, "Shh, you can't call me that here. And yeah, I'm fine."

The silence between you made both of your somewhat heavy breathing more apparent. Now, you had follow-up questions for each other. At the same time, you asked it:

"What's going on?"

Both of you laughed a little, but fakely. Jimin said, "You go first. Why are you climbing up here instead of taking the elevator? And what's with that distant look on your face?"

What were you supposed to tell him? That you were rattled by what Chaeyoung said to you at lunch? That you were bothered with the idea of him getting out of a serious relationship just before starting something with you? This wasn't the time or place for it, but you could give him a half-truth instead. You softened your voice to a whisper, hesitating for a second, "I'm going up to talk to HR."

His eyes went a little wider, "Really? Already?"

"Yeah. I was in a meeting this morning and I kind of had to tell Sanghee and Chaeyoung, so I'm going to tell HR now," you explained, "Don't worry, I'll leave out certain information. It's just a formality."

He nodded slowly, glancing up at the ceiling for moment before sighing, "Alright. I guess you would have had to in the coming weeks anyway."

"Yeah...Anyway what's up with you? You look like you want to kill someone."

Jimin found some dark, twisted humor in that and chuckled, but he didn't want to share the reason. You were already dealing with enough - telling you that one of the members thought you were a scheming social climber would wound you, ramping up insecurities. As your partner and the father of your child, he felt it was his job to protect you from strife.

"No," he feigned a smirk so convincingly, "I've just got a lot on my mind, but that's my normal."

You grinned back, "Me too, especially these days."

Not wanting to get caught, he began to walk past you. As he brushed by your ear, he asked lowly, "Will I see you tonight?"

You assumed he wanted to continue the conversation about moving in together. It would allow you to speak with him about the things you learned regarding his past, which was uncomfortable but also essential. You needed to be an adult and talk it through.

"Yes, I'll be over later."

It was early in the evening, still plenty of daylight outside. Jimin was showering off, feeling as though he needed to rinse the remnants of this tense day off his body. The heat of the water was higher than usual, but he hardly noticed. The conflict was replaying in his mind over and over again.

Part of the reason he decided to shower was to get away from his phone. It had been blowing up ever since that dicey meeting with calls and texts from every member besides Namjoon, asking if he was alright and saying how bothered they were by the leader’s words.

Jimin had no idea when he’d feel like speaking to him next. All conflicts in the group were swiftly squashed, but this was a new level of agitation. Not only had he basically called the mother of his child a gold-digger, but he also insinuated that your relationship was purely rooted in sex. It caught him totally off guard, especially coming from a friend who was usually a peacemaker.

When you entered the apartment, it was right after work hours. You heard the faint sound of the shower running as you took your shoes off and set your bag down. Better not to go and meet your boyfriend in the bathroom, you thought. You didn't trust your hormones not to wig out and overtake you. You were intent on talking to him about his ex and asking him some related questions.

It seemed that Jimin didn't hear you enter, as the shower droned on for a while. It gave you time to wander into his kitchen and grab yourself a snack. He kept some packets of cookies in the pantry at all times, for when his sweet tooth would take hold. Unfortunately for him, your appetite was starting to change, and his sweets were beginning to disappear with every one of your visits.

You sat at one of the stools at the kitchen island, lazily munching on a cookie as you waited for him.

When Jimin finally turned off the water, he could have sworn that he heard the sound of crunching plastic. It gave him pause from towel-drying his hair. He shouted out to you, "Baby?!"

You called back to him, "Yeah, I'm here!"

All you heard in response was "Ah."

Then, his bare footsteps approached you. Out he came, entering the kitchen with wet, slicked-back hair and a black robe tied at the waist. The sight was by no means easy for you to look at, but at least he was covered.

From his viewpoint, the sight of you was a comfort. Not that he wanted you to be this worn out from work, but it was endearing how you looked while languidly eating his snacks.

He kissed your cheek, which was stuffed with food, before grabbing one of the soft baked goods for himself. His palm met the cool marble surface of the island as he leaned against it. Before taking a bite, he asked you, "How was the meeting with HR?"

You shrugged, "Nothing significant. They handled it very professionally, as expected. Basically, they walked me through the maternity leave policy and told me I was more than welcome to adjust my work schedule if necessary."

"That's great," he said with a full mouth, "Also, I've been wondering about this since running into you in the stairwell. Why did you have to tell Sanghee and Chaeyoung today?"

"Oh, right. Sanghee asked me and Chae to go with you guys for the music video filming in September. I couldn't say yes officially without a green light from Doctor Yoon, and I was honest about that. So basically I had no other choice but to tell them."

Jimin's eyes were round with excitement for you, "Wow, that's awesome, baby! You'll be able to travel abroad with us...You don't seem particularly thrilled, though.”

You turned your head a little so you were facing him directly, "Huh? Oh, no I am. I'm just...You know how yesterday was a long and weird day for me?"

He nodded.

"Well, today was longer and weirder."

He hummed as he swallowed the contents in his mouth, dusting any crumbs from his hands by rubbing them together a couple times. He walked behind you and started to massage your shoulders, "If you're in the mood to talk about it, I'm here."

His lips were so close to your temple as he said that. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let him work through your muscles. You let out a breath through your mouth, so quietly and delicately that it was almost impossible to hear, but Jimin was right there.

He began to kiss the outer shell of your ear, and you did it again. You rarely got upset with his effect on you - it was often more than welcome. But in this instance, you were fighting it. You wouldn’t let yourself be taken by him tonight. It felt like giving a pass to everything you had learned about him, as if sex would be a means of saying that it was all okay. Besides, that wasn’t the only matter that needed to be discussed. He’d asked you to move in with him, for goodness sake.

Jimin was fighting it too. If he caved to desire, he would be proving Namjoon right. He would be, in essence, thinking with his dick. Therefore, he was resisting his own biology, but very poorly. It had been a month since he’d had you. A whole month without touching you, feeling your warmth around him.

The more he pictured, the more he lusted after you. Soon enough, his body began to betray his standing. His lips suckled gently on the skin right below your ear lobe as his length began to swell.

You felt it against your lower back and sighed, shaking your head, “Jimin…Not tonight.”

In a turn of events, now you were upset at yourself. Your hormones protested the refusal, a carnal knot tangling in your core. It had been so long without his hands on you, so long since you’d seen him come undone.

Jimin was never one to push the envelope. He took you at your word and backed off. Forcing a totally content expression, he gave you some space. He retreated to the wall next to the entryway to the kitchen, back against it.

You swiveled in the stool so you could face him. Even though you’d just rejected his advances, the raging pregnancy hormones made it impossible to stop looking at him.

He gave you a small grin, “I really am here to talk, if you want. I know we probably have lots to go over, huh?”

You barely heard his thoughtful sentiment, too captivated by the optical banquet before you. His robe was a bit loose at the top, creating a low ‘v’ that exposed the inner bump of his pecs. His hair was wet and pushed back, exposing his nearly perfect hairline and forehead. And then was the worst yet best of all - the protrusion at his crotch.

Your face was pink as you drank him in. Jimin watched your chest rise and fall in the way it always did when you were needy. That did him in, turning him into the man you’d come to know so well over the past year. Fuck whatever Namjoon would have to say. He knew nothing.

He brought on the final blow, the devilish upturn of his lips.

“Do you wanna talk about it or not?”

You looked down, “I...”

“Why did you look away, baby?” He pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over to you, teasing you with that sultry voice of his.

He stood next to you, body angled toward you as he leaned sideways over the counter, propping his head up with his hand. This pulled the neckline of his robe open even more, giving you a more complete view of his chest. Your eyes were starving as you began to feel a pool of wetness form in your panties.

You looked at the tent in his robe. It was taunting you. You pursed your lips together and looked back up at his eyes, which appeared to be devouring you on the spot.

You were both at the point of decision now, each of you laboring against the magnetism.

Jimin inched closer to you, his tone dropping low, “Not in a talkative mood, are we?”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up.”

You practically pounced on him, standing up and sealing his lips with yours. He smirked pompously into the kiss, arms wrapping around your waist.

You weren’t playing around tonight, biting down on his lower lip. He groaned, his cocky demeanor being replaced by an insatiable appetite. You exhaled a moan as he lifted you up and set you on the countertop.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he breathed as he sucked and nibbled on your neck.

You were greedy for more, running one hand through his wet hair and gathering some in your fist to hold him against your flesh.

“I need you so fucking bad,” Jimin growled, “It’s been so long.”

“I know,” you moaned, “I wasn’t in the mood for a while but now I want it more than ever.”

“Mm,” he went back to attacking your lips, “You want me, baby?”

Your mind felt foggy with desire, your womanhood soaking your underwear with arousal, “Yes, I want you so bad it hurts.”

He pulled his face away from you for a moment. His eyes were black with primal lechery as he took your chin between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger, “Is this because of your hormones, hm?

You smiled a little, panting, “They’ve been nuts lately.”

He hummed with satisfaction, “My poor baby, dealing with so many side effects from carrying my child.”

It appeared as though both of you had discovered a new kink. He was obsessed with the thought of it, and you were set ablaze when he said it.

You resumed the making out promptly, losing yourself in the taste of him. Jimin’s hands cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze before lifting you off the counter. You kept your legs wrapped around his torso and occupied his lips as he carried you away.

The next thing you knew, you were set down with your back on his bed. He assumed his rightful place on top of you, his robe parting at the legs so that his cock became free.

"You are far too covered for my liking." he said, pulling you up so you sat on his lap.

You couldn't help yourself. As he went to undo the buttons of your cream silk blouse, you wrapped your hand around his length. Your touch made him stop, his palms meeting the surface of the comforter at his sides.

His eyes closed, brows knitting together for a second before relaxing again. He licked his lips and sucked in a hitched breath once you began to palm his balls. You were addicted to this facial expression - fully absorbed in the moment and dying for more.

"What are you doing?" his voice was raspy, "I was in the middle of getting you naked."

You sank into the role of innocence, "I'm sorry. Would you like me to stop?"

"No," he returned all too quickly, "No, keep going. In fact, do more baby. Please."

The word 'please' was your cue that the time to act innocent was over. You smirked and removed your hands. You scooted off his lap and then off the bed entirely. Jimin followed you to the edge of the bed, anticipating your next move. Before proceeding, you decided to give him a little show. You wanted to bring him to the brink of madness.

Tantalizingly slow, you undid button after button of your shirt. You let it fall from your shoulders and pulled the rest of it off your body, dropping it to the floor. Your boyfriend was transfixed by your breasts, so plump and cupped by your bra, spilling over it.

"Your tits look bigger." he said.

You removed your bra, "Do they?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, "They do."

You smiled softly and removed the rest of your clothing. As you pulled your jeans down, you turned around, giving him a full view of your ass in a pair of seamless black panties. When you faced him again, he looked as if he wanted to eat you alive.

Jimin began untying the loose knot of the robe, pulling the fluffy garment off his body. He sat there fully bare, cock straight and veiny, more than ready to receive your touch. The image was so obscene - muscular thighs that could probably suffocate you spread open, balls hanging off the bed at the base of his leaking, throbbing member.

You maintained a sensual eye contact as you lowered onto your knees in front of him. The rug beneath his bed offered some comfort.

Jimin could have blown his load just looking at you like that, so gorgeous and eager to please.

“I wouldn’t wait too much longer, sweetheart,” he rasped, “Otherwise I’ll have to pick you up and blow your fucking back out. I- Ah, shit.”

You’d successfully shut him up by engulfing his entire cock in one go.

You began bobbing your head up and down at a steady pace.

“Fuck,” he sighed with a shaky disposition, “I missed this pretty mouth of yours.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making him bite his lip and allow his head to fall back. Your jaw became slightly sore after a minute or so and you pulled off, a popping sound releasing as your lips broke contact. His dick sprung up and down, stiff with longing.

Jimin gritted his teeth, piercing you with sexually frustrated, blown-out eyes. He took a firm grip of your hair, making you moan while looking up at him.

“Did I say you could stop?”

He couldn’t fight the urge to boss you around while you were literally kneeling before him. He searched your eyes to make sure you into it, and they were radiating all the right signals. You loved it when he became dominant like this.

Without giving you the chance to respond, he placed his other hand in your hair and pushed you back down on his cock. You gave him full control of your movements, loving the tingling tug on your scalp.

His mouth fell open in a slew of moans, one for every time you reached the base of him. He was acting like a man possessed, totally unaware of all other surroundings.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, “So mine.”

You whimpered around him.

“Shit,” he hissed, letting you go free for a moment as he stood up, then he went right back to owning you, “How did I go so long without this? Did you miss having my cock in your mouth, baby?”

You hummed in agreement.

“I thought so,” Jimin began to hold your head in place and thrust his hips instead, rutting into the confines of your wet lips like an animal, “God, Y/N…Feels so fucking good. I bet you want a big load of my cum in your throat, hm? Or should I fill up that pussy again?"

The thought of him shooting his seed into your sopping cunt made you both moan. Now there was no reason why he couldn't.

You choked on him when you tried to say something. He permitted you to pull off his dick, still holding you by the hair. The way you looked up at him, eyes glassed over with arousal and tears from gagging, made his cock twitch. He was getting close.

You were catching your breath when you said, "Both."

There was a hint of a leer on his face before he began thrusting inside your mouth again, going full force. You mewled as he face-fucked you, letting out his own grunts and groans.

"Fuck, you want both, baby? I'll give you both."

His ruts became sloppier and his breaths jagged. He was approaching the pinnacle, while you were enjoying the act of driving him insane.

"Shit, sweetheart," his head launched backward, "I'm cumming!"

Your tongue was flooded with a warm saltiness as he let out a loud whine. His eyes screwed shut and mouth locked in an open shape, his hips compulsively gave it a few final ruts. When he came down from the rapture, he collapsed back into his original sitting position on the bed.

You swallowed what he gave you and wiped the excess saliva off your chin before being picked up and laid on the comforter. You were grinning at each other, but you didn't want to lose the fire and get all soft and cushy just yet. You were having too much fun.

You laughed and mirrored his own words back at him, "I wouldn't wait too long."

He chuckled darkly, "You're a little minx, you know that? Now let's get these annoying panties off."

They were a thin, delicate material - easily torn apart when he used the right amount of force. The ripping sound was quick, as if it took no effort at all. You gasped at the sudden action, subdued once more.

Heaven came to you once his fingers grazed over your bud. He cursed when he felt how soaked you were.

"Let me taste you," he said, shifting backward, "I wanna taste how ready you are for me."

Normally, you preferred his fingers, but all bets were off now. You were so horny that any form of contact from him would feel amazing. You nodded hastily, letting him trail down your body. He left kisses and suckled as he moved down. When he got to your belly, he took more care.

He lingered right below your belly button for a moment, placing several kisses there, "When will you pop? I want to see my baby grow."

You smiled softly, "Soon, I hope. If I'm going to have all these symptoms, I at least want something to show for it."

"Mm," His fingers traced over your womb, "If being this cock hungry is one of your symptoms, I'm more than okay with it."

You would have giggled, but then his lips attached themselves to your inner thigh and you gasped instead. You resorted to shifting your hips toward him, greedy.

When his tongue finally met your clit, your back arched off the bed. To hold you in place as you writhed, Jimin gripped your thighs. You tasted delectable, a different flavor than before getting pregnant.

"J-Jimin..."

You didn't care about anything else. You'd forgotten all about the tension you felt when you arrived, and all of the stressful topics you had to talk about. In this moment, you knew he was all yours.

His tongue flicked over your femininity rapidly, applying the right amount of pressure.

"You're so juicy, baby," he sighed, "So ripe for me and me alone, isn't that right?"

You were a moaning mess, non-verbal.

He squeezed your thighs, "Hm? Use your words."

You half moaned, half chuckled, "You sound like - ah, you sound like a dad already."

He would have found it amusing, but he was far too entrenched. In a way that only Jimin could, he turned what you said into something filthy.

“Then why don’t you cum for Daddy?”

That name hadn't yet been introduced in your intimacy, but in this context, it brought you closer to ecstasy. You mewled under the power of his tongue, and the way his lips located just the right place to suck gently.

He was already getting hard again by the sound of your pleasure, the warm, slick feeling of it on his face.

"Tell me how it feels, sweetheart." he muttered before returning to work.

"S-So fucking good, Jimin." you whined.

He looked at you with sinister eyes and a grin, "Baby, that's not my name tonight. Come on, say it. I can tell you love it."

Your face got redder, "It feels so good, Daddy."

His cock twitched, "Are you gonna cum on my tongue? Do you want Daddy to fill up your pussy again?"

It snapped, the bundle inside you. You squirmed, legs shaking as you unraveled. The moans you let out were panted and beautiful, giving him gratification.

As you came back down to the world, Jimin smirked, "You came fast."

You smiled through your afterglow, "I told you, my hormones are nuts. But you might have had something to do with it too."

He kissed the insides of both of your thighs, "I could fucking live down here, right between these gorgeous legs."

You ran your hand through his hair, "Are you hard enough yet?"

Jimin kissed your knee with a smirk, "Oh, is my baby getting impatient for her second load?"

You said nothing and grabbed his wrists to pull him over your body. He chuckled at your fervor, but neither of you was laughing when his cock aligned at your folds, prodding and searching for release. His face was hovering over yours, and you gave him a slight nod to signal that you were ready.

His face had been drained of any fluff and romance, replaced totally by carnal ardor. He was going to fucking ruin you.

His hips rolled forward swiftly, filling you to the hilt immediately. You gasped, sensitive from your orgasm. He found a quick pace right away, groaning at the feeling that he'd been missing for a month.

"You're so fucking tight, sweetheart," he grunted, "So fucking tight and needy for Daddy's cock."

His filthy words were encasing you in heat, making you ache for more, "I-I wish you...I wish you put your baby in me sooner, Daddy."

Jimin began to fuck you harder, more turned on than he'd ever been in his life, "Yeah?"

"Y-Yeah," you panted, "Because now you can - Ah! Now you can fuck me raw like this all you want."

"Holy shit," he moaned, eyes squeezed shut, "You're such a dirty girl. Everyone at work thinks you're sweet as can be. How wrong they are.”

"I'm only like this for you." you moaned.

His head dipped to the valley of your breasts, "That's right, baby. My cock drives you wild every fucking time, hm? That's how you ended up like this."

Then he pulled out for a second, breathing heavily. He became upright on his knees and pulled you toward him, legs up on his shoulders. You moaned at how effortlessly he was able to take control of your body, positioning you exactly how he wanted.

When he re-entered you, he hit much deeper, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. As his hips slammed into yours, your boobs moved in a circular motion.

He delighted in it, "Fuck yeah, look at those tits bounce."

Their movement caused you soreness. They'd been sensitive for a while now, but it was nothing too painful, "They're a little s-sore, Daddy."

Jimin smirked amid his euphoria, "That's because they're getting all nice and big. They need to be able to make lots of milk for my baby. Fuck, that's so hot."

He railed you harder than ever before, unrelenting and rough, chasing another orgasm. You knew you were going to be wobbly after this. You were a mess below him, practically sobbing as he made the world spin. You were delirious, and it only encouraged him to keep pounding into your cunt.

Sweat was beginning to make both of your bodies sticky.

“Look at you,” he exhaled, the air in his lungs feeling scarce, “So fucked out for Daddy. So starved for my cum, even though you’ve already got my child inside you. You’re insatiable. Beg for it, baby. Tell me how much you want it, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

You were so close to a second climax that you couldn’t speak.

Jimin let go of one of your legs so he could give your ass and underhanded smack, “Don’t make Daddy ask again. Fucking beg for it.”

You whined, “Please cum inside me! I want your load, Daddy! Please give it to me!”

He could tell how close you were and wanted to send you up to the stars. With both of your legs still up on his shoulders, he started to rub your clit in the circular motion he knew you loved.

“O-Oh!” you moaned, “I’m gonna cum!”

Your peak rammed into you just as hard as his dick. Your cunt squeezed and clenched around him, making him groan out, “Christ, that’s it baby. Milk my cock for my seed. This cunt has me so close already.”

You were bordering on overly sensitive now, the pleasure becoming a faint, delicious pain, “I want it, I want it all Daddy.”

“I know you do,” he gritted his teeth, “You’re going to take it all, just like you did last time. Fuck.”

He was nearing the end, taking your legs and letting them return to the plush surface of the bed. Then he returned to a missionary position, jackhammering into you with desperate, inconsistent thrusts.

“So close,” he chanted, “Oh God! Gonna give you such a big load. Cup my balls, sweetheart. Feel how much cum I still have for you.”

Obedient as ever, you did as you were told, reaching around to hold his balls in the palm of your hand. They felt so swollen and full, heavy with more of the genetic material that had helped create the child in your womb. You gently caressed and rolled them.

“Ugh, keep doing that!” he released a moan, sweat dripping down his temple, “I’m cumming!”

With one last shattering sound, jets of semen poured into you. His hips slammed into you out of reflex as he rode it out, cursing and mewling. His member was pulsating inside of you, making you hum with contentment.

Jimin’s arms gave out and his weight fell on you, making you giggle as both of you heaved. You were both in a glowing, exhausted, perspiring state, bodies tangled.

It was only then that he dropped the promiscuous demeanor, kissing your breast lazily, “Fuck, I love you. I love you so much.”

You wrapped your quivering legs around him, pulling him in deeper, panting, “I love you too.”

Then he lifted his head, giving you the chance to see his worn out, adoring smile. His chest was rising and falling, and strands of damp black hair were dangling over your nose. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling it back so you could see his entire face.

“One of our best ever,” he exhaled, “That was unbelievable.”

You laughed, “I agree.”

He rolled off you, closing his eyes and relishing in this blissful feeling, “I’m afraid I’ll have to shower again. Join me?”

You smirked and twisted around so that you were on top of him. You kissed him slowly and deeply. Jimin’s heart could have burst. As always, you managed to take all of the worries out of his head. You erased all negativity, all anger. He felt your soft lips on his and experienced nothing but optimism.

His hands went to your cheeks, keeping you right where you were for what felt like hours.

“This is why I want you to move in with me,” he mumbled between kisses, “I want to come home to you, and for you to come home to me.”

Though you feigned a small grin, the conversation you had with Chaeyoung broke through this perfect bubble. Now that your sexual urges had been quelled, you couldn’t ignore what you had come here to discuss in the first place.

Your heart began to deflate as you imagined him loving that other woman, being devastated from losing her, right before he became smitten with you. The more you remembered, the more your face fell.

“Y/N?” Jimin’s eyes were confused.

You frowned and climbed off of him, sitting up.

Your boyfriend was perplexed, sitting up beside you. The way you were staring straight ahead unnerved him, “Sweetheart, what is it? Do you…not want to move in?”

You closed your eyes with a sigh, “It’s not that. I would, I just…I was told something today that really caught me by surprise. I need the truth.”

He couldn’t imagine why you were talking about honesty. He’d never transgressed against you in that way, at least not severely.

“Okay,” he gave you a nervous smile, “What do you want to talk about?”

You were deadly serious, turning your head to look him in the eye. He took note of how concerned, and even a little hurt, you were.

“Tell me about your ex. The one who left right before we got together.”

[writing-fanics]

when were you going to tell me?

coriolanus snow x f!reader

Part I Part II (your here) Part III(soon)

"Hey! Hey…" he said softly, cupping your tear-stained face in his hands. He gently wiped away your tears with his thumb and pressed his lips against yours. "It's going to be okay," he reassured you. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, kissed your forehead, and smiled.

You gripped the hospital bed sheets, knuckles turning white. "I was scared," you said, embarrassed. "I didn't want to be a burden."

"My love, you can tell me anything," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours, causing you to smile. "We'll get through this," he assured you, rubbing your cheek. He was determined to do everything in his power to secure the Plinth Prize, support his family, and transfer to university, all to ensure a better future for both of you.

Your parents didn’t like your relationship with Coriolanus Snow. Seeing right through him and saw how poor he truly is. You on the other hand didn’t care and loved him for who he is and now, you are pregnant with his child. Your family finds out your cut off.

He whispered, "I promise," before pressing his lips against yours once more. He eventually left to let you rest, but more importantly, to improve his chances of winning.

‘Lucy Gray must win the Hunger Games

[bonus] sneak peek part iii

Coriolanus sat in the corner of The Hob, bobbing his head to the music as Lucy Gray sang. People laughed and danced to the music, he noticed in the corner of his eye. Sejanus talking to someone at the bar, he looked away knowing he was getting into something.

"There you are my love," A familiar voice said, and he turned towards it and his mouth dropped open. As if this were a dream they couldn't possibly be here. You smiled, as locked eyes with him.

@quackitysdrugdealer @ennycutie (couldn't tag)

[jmdbjk]

Well...

I've always harped on their "chemistry" and its no exaggeration. They fit together so naturally. They are so very in tune with each other, when you are with that person and you feel like everything is right and it doesn't matter what you are doing, where you are going or if you are doing anything or nothing at all.

This episode was completely different than any of the previous episodes.

By the end of November they both knew what was going to happen and embracing the idea that they were about to "go in" and they were doing this together. They flat out said they were making memories to take with them while they served their military obligation.

Jimin and Jungkook clearly see themselves as just ordinary people living extraordinary lives, and they want to and expect to experience ordinary things.

The convenience store visit.

They ran like kids sliding on the ice, stomped in the snow, threw snowballs at each other, even though occasionally, Jimin's pragmatism burst their cozy little bubble:

Jungkook: "When it snows during our military service I think I'll recall this moment."

Jimin: "Right now, we're watching the snow from a hotel window but soon we'll have to sweep it up."

Ever the romantic, that Jimin...

Walking on the street with the general public, getting coffee, making their way to the train station... just like everyone else...

Yes, they had a crew with them, leading them and following them through the streets of Sapporo. But everything they did was ordinary.

When they are ordering food or drinks, their attempts at reading and speaking Japanese are endearing. They just dove right in. I love them. See? Don't let language be an obstacle when traveling in a foreign country!

I don't know if that's his personal little round furry money purse or if the staff used that for this trip's spending money and just handed it to him... but it was cute as fuck.

There is nothing pretentious about them. Yes they can whip out the black card to pay for expensive whisky but Jungkook took pleasure in choosing what he wanted himself, carrying his armload of 18 year old whisky to the counter and paying the $4000 for it himself at the distillery. He could have had someone else do it for him.

We saw these purchases in his refrigerator during his live on Dec. 8:

As ordinary as it was, there were still some very WTF moments that everyone has already pointed out:

That moment from the car ride on the way from the airport to the hotel at 11 o'clock at night, no seatbelts, Jimin practically sitting in Jungkook's lap and both smushed against the door. Jungkook looking like he is about to get lucky or just did.... man, I don't know what that was all about and how it stayed in this episode instead of getting edited out. I mean... there is a cut so we are not seeing the entire thing but what they left in was... ok?... I guess?

The train ride sequence (even though it was highly manipulated in post-production to wipe out all the other people)...

That culminates in this... we hope it ends up being a selca in the photobook. The moment was so sweet.

At the distillery, cosplaying their pickup lines at a bar...

Jimin's moment of clarity when he envisioned himself a girl dad and Jungkook thinking "uhhhhh... ok, Jimin, whatever you say"...

Gotta say though, Jimin envisioning himself a father at some point in the future was very sweet.

They reminisced a lot, talking about how much they and the other members have changed over the years and still remarking to each other how young they both look when back outside in the cold air, cheeks flushed from whisky and beer and a hot meal.

Their point of view regarding their looks, "they enjoy watching us gradually get raggedy and fat."

Yet, their age difference is exactly what makes them click. Jimin being older, caring, watchful, responsible in the early years, and Jungkook, so young, still socially awkward, always watching Jimin, always sticking close by him, learning how to maneuver the situations they faced in their profession. Through the years they evolved and matured personally and professionally into the men they are today.

If they had been same-agers, the outcome may not have been the same.

Again, props to the staff for everything they did to make this happen for Jimin and Jungkook. It appeared that some of the time they remained outside in the cold while Jimin and Jungkook were indoors eating or getting coffee.

This trip was their final trip before that "rite of passage" that every Korean male is obligated to fulfill. There was a poignant edge to a lot of this episode, in what they talked about, in the imagery. Jimin has always seemed to want to hang on to his "youth" and now he was about to cross that line and he knew it.

I also keep harping on the fact Jimin and Jungkook are together as we speak and I am thankful for that every day. I firmly believe they are thankful for each other, even if they are not same age friends.

Two more episodes.