#but stop trying to push it on everyone else

[sugarplum217]

Essence Of Loyalty (Pt.1)

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black Plus Size Female Reader

Warnings: MDNI (18+) contains sexual explicit content, heavy smut, spit play, oral sex, A VERY HEAVY USE OF “daddy” and “mama”, unprotected sex, cursing, major dirty talk, creampie, mentions of murder, lots of heavy sexual flirtation, detailed sexual acts , fluff

AuthorsNote: Please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors. I hope you enjoy the story and remember to be kind and if you want to be tagged in the next part let me know.

Summary: Everyone and their mama has been trying to either set you up on a date with someone or continuously remind you that your clock is ticking away. That you weren’t getting any younger and your looks would eventually fade. What they didn’t know is that you already had your special someone. In fact you’ve had him a while. You know how that saying goes, “Good things come to those who wait” and for you in this instance. It was nothing but the waiting game for your special someone to finally walk into your life. The question is .. would it be acceptable for everyone else?

You never expected to fall in love with a man behind bars. It started as nothing more than a random click—some late-night curiosity fueled by boredom and an ad that popped up between Facebook posts. Find love where you least expect it. Meet single men looking for companionship. You damn near scrolled past it, but something made you stop. Maybe it was the way the words “love” and “companionship” stood out, teasing something you didn’t realize you were craving. Maybe it was just the boredom, the same mundane routine of work, home, sleep, repeat, stretching on like a treadmill you couldn’t step off. Either way, you clicked. Scrolling through the profiles felt like flipping through a catalog you had no business browsing. Men of all ages and backgrounds, some looking for friendship, others for love. But none of them caught your attention. That is—until you saw him. Inmate 07541, Terrance Richmond. Baby, that mugshot stopped you cold. Rich buttery light caramel skin, sharp jawline, and full lips that looked like they could whisper secrets straight into your soul. His nose was strong, his features chiseled, but it was those damn piercing uniquely colored eyes that did it. Deep-set, hooded, with a stare so intense you could feel it through the screen. Something about them made your heart stutter—like he was looking at you, past you, into you. There was no forced smile, no tough-guy posturing. Just that stare. You hesitated, hovering over the message button. What the hell were you doing? Messaging a man serving time? A man who, according to his bio, had been locked up since he was 18? Still, curiosity won. You typed out a casual introduction—something light, something safe—and hit send. Then you pushed it to the back of your mind, fully expecting no response, but he wrote back. And not just some half-assed, one-line reply. He wrote you back.

That first message turned into another. And another. Emails became long letters, paragraphs bleeding into pages, until you found yourself rushing home from work just to see his name in your inbox. You learned everything about him—the way he used to play football before his life changed, the music he listened to, the books he read to escape the four walls of his cell. He told you about his past, the pain, the betrayal, the night everything changed. And you told him about yours—how life felt like it was happening at you instead of for you. How you wanted more, but you didn’t know what more even looked like. Then came the sweet video calls. The first time you saw him move, saw that sharp jaw flex when he smiled, heard that deep, velvety voice rumble straight through the screen—you were done. Hooked. Gone. Two years later, here you were. In a relationship—a real one, even if nobody knew. And in a few days, he’d be free. And that? That scared you more than anything.

“You always got an excuse, girl. What is tea?”Sonya’s voice snapped you back to the present, and you blinked, realizing your fork had been hovering over your plate for way too long. It was lunchtime at Taste Of The South Cafe, your usual Friday spot with the girls. The table was cluttered with half-empty margarita glasses, plates of fried catfish and mac and cheese, and the scent of honey butter croissants floating in the air. Normally, this was your escape from the monotony of work. But today? You were ready to go.

“I just wanna relax,” You half way lied, pushing your food around. Sonya wasn’t buying it. Neither was Deja.

“Girl, please,” Deja scoffed. “Every time we plan a girls’ night, your ass come up with something. What’s up? You sneakin’ around with somebody?”

“Ain’t nobody sneakin’.” You forced a laugh, shaking your head. 

“Then why you always rushin’ home like you got a man waitin’ on you?” Sonya arched a brow, swirling her margarita.

“Because I do.” You thought to yourself. But you didn’t say that. Instead, you shrugged, hoping they’d let it go. They didn’t.

“You sure it ain’t that new dude in accounting?” Deja pressed. “The one with the Audi and the beard? Girl, he is fine.”

“Not my type,” You said quickly.

Sonya snorted. “And what is your type? Because last time I checked, you were single as hell.”

You just smiled, keeping your real thoughts locked up tight. Because your type wasn’t something you could explain to them. Your type wasn’t sitting in an office, making six figures, and posting gym selfies on Instagram. Your type was locked behind bars. A man who had spent more of his life inside than out. A man whose voice alone made your thighs clench, whose absence felt like a missing limb. But they wouldn’t get that. So you just laughed it off, switched the subject, and counted down the hours until you could talk to him. The day dragged. By the time you made it to your car, your feet were aching, your patience was shot, and you were tired. But none of that mattered. Because in just a few minutes, he’d be calling. The drive home was full of bumper-to-bumper traffic and the usual call from your mama.

“Hey ma” You greeted, honking the car in front of you to move their ass. 

“Hey my baby. You comin’ to dinner this weekend?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You make a face, thanking god she can’t see you.

“Good. Your sister’s bringing her fiancé.” She said, her tone laced with excitement. Of course, she was. Your older sister had the picture-perfect life—a man, a ring, a timeline that fit neatly into the family’s expectations.

“And he’s bringing his brother,” You mother added casually.

You sighed. “Ma—”

“Just be open-minded! You’re a beautiful girl, and you ain’t gettin’ any younger.” She reminded for the hundredth time. You gritted your teeth, gripping the steering wheel. If only she knew. But you decided to let it go. 

“I’ll see you Saturday.” You shook your head, hanging up.By the time you got home, it was 6:59pm. You barely had time to drop your purse before your phone lit up with that Incoming Call from your ‘Big Daddy’. You squealed, feeling your heart flip. 

You snatched it up, answering with a smile. “Hey, baby.”

“Damn, I needed to hear your voice.” A low chuckle rumbled through the speaker, deep enough to send heat pooling between your thighs. 

You melted instantly. “Long day?”

“Long as hell,” He sighed. “But I knew I’d be hearin’ from you, so I got through it.”

Your chest tightened. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? I missed you more baby” He smirked. You could hear it in his voice. “Tell me about your day, baby.”

So you did. You told him everything—lunch with your nosy-ass friends, your mama trying to set you up. And he listened quietly like always when it came to your day and what crazy ass story you had ready for him. That was one of the many things you loved about Terry, how he could just listen and never get tired of you talking. 

“Don’t sweat that shit, baby. You got a man.” He chuckled, low and smooth. That possessiveness made your toes curl.

“Yeah?” you teased. “I got a man?”

“Hell yeah,” He murmured. “And in a few days, you gon’ have me in every way possible.”

Your breath hitched and your body got hot. Because in just a few days, Terry Richmond would be free. And you would finally be his.  You adjusted the phone against your ear, stretching out on the couch, letting his voice roll over you like thick honey.

“You talkin’ real reckless, Mr. Terrance,” you teased, biting your lip. “What makes you think you gettin’ all this good good so easy?”

A deep, knowing chuckle rumbled through the receiver, sending shivers down your spine. “Baby,” He drawled, voice rich and slow like he was savoring every syllable. “Don’t play wit’ me. You and I both know the second I touch down, I’ma have you laid out for me, just how I like it.”

“Oh yeah?” Your thighs pressed together at the promise in his tone.

“Hell yeah. First thing I’m doin’ is spreadin’ them thighs, makin’ up for lost time. You know I been starvin’ for you. Ain’t had a taste of sweet pussy in years. I need my plate, ma.” He stated, making your breath hitch and heat coil in your lower belly. 

“Terry…” You breathed, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Say my name just like that when I’m between them legs,” He murmured. “Matter fact, scream it. I’ma put my mouth on every inch of you. Them thighs? Mine. Them hips? Mine. That spot you say makes you weak right under your belly button? I’m kissin’ it first. And you already know where I’m endin’ up.”

Your body responded to his words instantly, your nipples tightening against the fabric of your blouse. The ache between your thighs grew unbearable. You were so tempted to rub on your clit as he talked to you, but you knew big daddy’s rules. You weren’t allowed to touch yourself at all unless he gave the permission and could listen to you without any interruptions. 

“You talkin’ crazy,” You whispered, your voice thick with need.

“Nah, baby, I’m talkin’ facts. You gon’ see. Soon as I get out, you ain’t leavin’ that bed for at least three days.” He chuckled. 

“Oh, so I’m just gonna be held hostage?” You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers toying with the hem of your skirt.

“Damn right,” He said without hesitation. “Ain’t no way I been locked up this long just to finally get my hands on you and let you go. Shit, you gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe.”

Your stomach flipped. You wanted that. Needed that. But then, reality settled back in. The system didn’t make things easy.

“Speaking of that…What did your lawyer say about your release date? Will you be out on my birthday like we want?” You exhaled, shifting the phone closer to your ear. It was silence for a moment. The weight of it pressed heavy between you, thick and uncertain. You held your breath preparing for the worst case scenario possible. 

“They still pushin’ for my original release date, but you know how this shit go. Paperwork, red tape, all that. My lawyer confident, though. He say if everything lines up, I should be out right on time. Maybe even a couple days before.” Terry let out a slow breath.

“For real?” Your chest tightened with cautious hope. 

“For real, baby. But…” He hesitated. “You know they been tryin’ to trip me up in here. COs, some of these jealous-ass inmates. They know I’m close to freedom, and they hate that shit. I gotta keep my head low, stay out the way, but it’s hard sometimes. Real hard.”

“They still on that bullshit?” Your jaw clenched.

“Yeah,” He muttered. “They hate a nigga like me gettin’ a second chance. And these lame ass inmates tryna set me up don’t help either.”

“Terry, I swear to God if they—”You closed your eyes, frustration bubbling inside you.

“Relax, mama,” He said, voice dropping into that deep, soothing register that always made you weak. “Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I promise you that. I done made it through too much to let these motherfuckers take my freedom again.”

“Baby, please promise me you won’t do nothin’ to mess this up. I need you here. I need you home.” You frowned, Terry remained silent allowing you to vent because he knew this was becoming harder everyday for you to cope with. You swallowed hard, throat tight.

“I just…” You hesitated, then admitted softly, “I just need you here. I don’t want anything messin’ this up. My 28th birthday… Terry, all I want is you.”

“I know, ma. Trust me, I know.” His voice softened, turning serious. “You the only thing keepin’ me sane in here. The only thing keepin’ me goin’. I promise you, I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ get in the way of me comin’ home to you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I trust you.” You inhaled deeply, letting his words settle over you. 

“You got me for life baby,” He said assuring you, voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you, baby. If I gotta fight every damn day until that judge signs my release, I’ma do it. ‘Cause you worth it. We worth it.”

“You better mean that,” You whispered. Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away.

“I do. And when I’m finally out, when I got you in my arms, I’ma make sure you never question that again.”

“I love you so much.” You exhaled shakily.

“I love you more, baby.” He bit his lip, feeling his heart speed up. 

“You swear you gonna come home to me, Terry?” You exhaled, stretching your legs out on the couch, your free hand absently trailing over your bare thigh. 

“Baby, listen to me.” His voice came through the receiver, deep and unwavering. “I need you to hear me when I say this. Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I done wasted enough years locked up, dreamin’ about what it feel like to be free, to wake up next to a woman who actually give a damn about me. I ain’t lettin’ no CO, no hating-ass inmate, no system take that from me.”

You closed your eyes, soaking in his words. A small tear escaped your eyes as you just let him talk and calm all of your fears. 

“And you really think I’m about to let you be out here spendin’ another birthday without me? Nah, ma. That ain’t happenin’.” He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Matter fact, you should start gettin’ ready now, ‘cause soon as I step through that door, I’m givin’ you somethin’ to celebrate.”

“Oh yeah? What you givin’ me, Terry?” A slow smile spread across your lips. 

“Ain’t it obvious? My last name, first of all.” He stated matter of factly. 

“Boy, stop playin’.” Your breath caught in your throat.

“Who playin’?” He challenged. “You really think I been doin’ all this talkin’, dreamin’ about you, makin’ plans, just to be out here on some casual shit? Nah, baby. You my woman. And when I get home, I’m puttin’ a ring on that pretty lil’ finger. You ain’t gon’ be nobody else’s but mine.”

Heat spread through your chest, settling deep in your belly. He always had a way of making you feel claimed, but this? This was different. This felt all too real and that he was promising you the moon and the stars and would actually reach up in the damn sky and get it for you. 

“Terry…” You purred slightly. 

“Say it again,” He murmured, voice dropping to that low, dangerous octave that always did something to you. “Say my name just like that.”

“Terry.” Your lips parted, slowing your words down for him. 

“Mmm,” He groaned. “That’s what I wanna hear every morning, every night. That’s what I wanna hear when I’m makin’ love to you, when I’m in it so deep you forget how to say anything else.”

“You tryna kill me, huh?” You sucked in a breath, your thighs pressing together instinctively. 

“Nah, ma. Just tryna remind you who you belong to.” He smirked, licking his lips. 

You chewed your lip, heart pounding against your ribs. The thought of him finally being here, of feeling him, touching him, owning him in the flesh—it was almost too much.

“Terry…” You started, voice soft, hesitant.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He adjusted the phone on his ear, eyebrows furrowing. You hesitated a moment afraid to tell him what’s really been on your mind. Afraid he wouldn’t understand but truth was Terry was more than understanding when it came to you. 

“I just… I keep thinking about what’s gonna happen once you’re really here. Like, when it’s not just phone calls and emails. When it’s real. When it’s us.” You honestly confessed, sighing. You heard a brief pause making your stomach tighten out of angst. You held your breath afraid he’d be upset but after a few seconds, he then spoke gently. 

”That’s what you scared of?” He asked, voice soft. 

You swallowed. “Not scared, just… it’s gonna be different. You been inside since you were 18, Terry. That’s—” You did the math in your head, stomach twisting. “Seventeen years. That’s a long time.”

“I know,” He said simply. “You think I don’t know that? Every damn day, I been countin’ down to this moment. I know it’s gon’ be an adjustment. I ain’t naive to that, baby. But what I do know is that I want this. You. I ain’t spent two years fallin’ in love with you for nothin’. And I damn sure ain’t finna let somethin’ as small as a transition period shake me.”

You exhaled, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I just want you to be happy, Terry.”

“I am happy, ma. You make me happy.” He professed from his heart, making your heart squeeze and stomach flutter. 

“Now,” He continued, voice laced with that familiar hunger. “Can we get back to what I was sayin’? ‘Cause I still got a whole list of things I plan to do to you soon as I get out.”

“Oh yeah? Go ‘head then, baby. I’m listenin’.” Your stomach flipped.

Terry exhaled through the receiver, the sound slow and deliberate. “Aight, so… First thing I’m doin’ soon as I step through that door? I’m droppin’ my bag, pullin’ you close, and kissin’ you like I been starvin’ for it.”

“Mmmm.” You bit your lip, already picturing the scene.

“Ain’t gon’ be no soft, sweet shit neither. Nah,” He rumbled. “I’m talkin’ about deep, wet, tongue all in your mouth, my hands locked around that waist, pullin’ you so tight you feel my dick pressin’ up against you.”

“Damn, Big Daddy. Can I at least take my heels off first?” You let out a breathy laugh.

“Hell nah,” He said smoothly. “Matter fact, leave ‘em on. I want you just like that. Fresh off work, tight lil’ skirt ridin’ up, them pretty ass legs wrapped ‘round my waist while I pin you up against the door.”

“Oh shit..” Your entire body heated at the image. You had to fan yourself, and cross your legs to avoid any wetness seeping out. 

“You know how long I been dreamin’ about that, baby?” His voice dropped an octave, turning into something dark, possessive. “Seventeen years. Seventeen years I been locked in this hellhole, surrounded by nothin’ but concrete and steel, knowin’ I ain’t got a real woman to touch, to taste, to claim. And then you came along…”

“B-Baby..” A soft gasp slipped from your lips. You squeezed your thighs shut tighter, already soaking your panties. 

“And now all I can think about is how you gon’ feel underneath me. How soft your skin is. How good you smell. How sweet you taste.” He growled lowly in your ear. 

“Shit.” You cursed, shifting on the couch, thighs pressing together.

“Mmm,” He hummed knowingly. “You wet for me, ain’t you?”

“Terry—” You swallowed.

“Nah, don’t try to play it off now,” He interrupted. “I know you, ma. I know you sittin’ there, grippin’ that phone tight, breathin’ all heavy, body heatin’ up just listenin’ to me talk. I don’t even need to be there to know how bad you want me.”

“You lucky you locked up.” You let out a shaky breath, tilting your head back against the couch. 

“Lucky? Nah, baby. Unlucky. ‘Cause if I was home right now, I’d have you laid out, ass up, back arched, moanin’ my name so loud the neighbors call the cops.”He chuckled, voice dripping with amusement.

“Boy, stop!” You laughed, shaking your head. “You talk all that shit, I hope you got the stamina to back it up.”

Terry clicked his tongue. “Oh, you doubtin’ me? That’s crazy. Lemme find out my baby think I ain’t gon’ put in work.”

“I mean, it has been a long time, Big Papa,” You teased.

“Aight,” He drawled, tone dangerous. “Keep playin’ with me. You gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe when I’m done with you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, so smooth and confident like he had zero doubt in his ability to back up every single word. The next few hours passed in a blur, the two of you tangled in conversation like it was your own little world. Terry told you about the meals he was craving—real food, not that processed mess they served on metal trays. He wanted collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, fried chicken, all made by you. “I need a home-cooked meal, baby. Something made with love,” He said, his voice full of longing. You laughed and promised to have a whole spread waiting for him. Then the conversation shifted to the small things—how he couldn’t wait to sleep in a real bed, how he wanted to go outside at night just to feel the wind on his face without fences in the way, how he wanted to sit on the couch with you and watch a movie with your legs draped over his lap. “Shit like that, ma,” He murmured. “The simple stuff. That’s what I miss the most.”

And you listened, hanging onto his every word, feeling your heart swell with each confession. The world had taken so much from him, stripped him of so many years, but somehow, he still had softness in him. He still had love to give. You found yourself telling him about all the things you wanted to do together, too—how you wanted to take him out to eat at a real restaurant, go on a drive late at night just because, lay up with him on a Sunday morning while the smell of breakfast filled the apartment. The more you talked, the more the reality of him coming home settled deep inside you. “You really gon’ take care of me, huh?” he asked, his voice low and full of something tender. “You damn right,” you whispered. “Somebody gotta make up for all that time you lost.”

If someone had told you years ago that you’d fall in love with a man behind bars, you would’ve laughed in their face. You always wanted love, prayed for it even, but you never imagined it would come in the form of Terry Richmond—a man with a past heavier than most, a man who had seen the worst parts of life and still found a way to hold onto his soul. He was the most fascinating, most alluring man you’d ever known, and you had never been more open with anyone in your life. You craved him in ways that scared you sometimes. You wanted to be the one to feed him, to run him a hot bath and wash years of struggle off his skin. You wanted to rub his shoulders, his chest, his back, to remind him that he was human, that he was home. And the way he talked to you, the way he poured into you, made you feel like you were already his sanctuary.

After you finally got off the phone, you moved into your nighttime routine, taking your time washing your face, patting your skin dry, smoothing your serums in like a ritual. You stared at yourself in the mirror, thinking about how your life was about to change. In just a few days, he’d be here, in your space, in your bed, in your life outside of those prison walls. As you reached for your bonnet and wrapped it securely around your head, your phone buzzed on the counter. FaceTime. Mama. You sighed, knowing she’d scold you if you didn’t answer, so you slid your thumb across the screen and propped the phone up.

“Hey, Mama,” You greeted, already bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” She said, peering at you through the screen. “Just callin’ to say goodnight and check on you before you went to bed.”  

“I’m alright , Mama. Just gettin’ ready for bed. Doing my usual routine.” You smiled. 

“Mm-hmm,” She hummed, then her face lit up. “Oh! Guess who I ran into today? You remember Kiana Perkins from high school?”

You frowned, digging through your memory. “Kiana Perkins… oh yeah, the one who used to run track?”

“Yes, her! Baby, she married now, got two babies, livin’ all happy with her husband. She showed me pictures and everything. And I just… I don’t know, baby, it got me thinkin’.” She started in on you. 

“Mama—” You groaned internally.

She held up a hand. “I know what you ‘bout to say, but hear me out. You not gettin’ any younger, baby. I just want you to have somebody. You always been my dumplin’, my soft-hearted baby, and I just—” She sighed. “I just want you to be loved, baby. I want somebody to take care of you for once.”

You bit your lip, heart squeezing at her words, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know that you did have somebody. That you had Terry. That soon, you wouldn’t be coming home to an empty bed anymore. You leaned back against the bathroom counter, swallowing the lump in your throat as your mother continued, her voice full of concern. 

“You know, I just don’t want you to end up like me, raising a family all on your own. You’ve got so much to offer, baby, don’t let it go to waste.” She paused, waiting for you to respond, but you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions. You wanted to tell her the truth, but you couldn’t—not yet. Terry was still behind those walls, and the world wasn’t ready for your truth. Not yet.

“I hear you, Mama,” You said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “But I’m good. I’m happy with how things are right now.”

She eyed you, her brow furrowing, but she didn’t push it. “Alright,” she finally said, her tone softening. “Just don’t wait too long, baby. Time don’t wait for nobody.”

“I won’t, Mama. Promise,” You replied, though you knew the promise wasn’t to her. It was to yourself. You weren’t going to waste any more time. The conversation moved on, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not telling her about Terry. She didn’t know that every night, you fell asleep with thoughts of him, that his voice had become the lullaby you never knew you needed. You thought about his touch, his words, the way he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world. But for now, it was a secret. Your secret. You wrapped up the call with your mother, promising to be at Sunday dinner over the weekend, and hung up. The air felt thick now, like the weight of your own desires had settled in your chest. You finished getting ready for bed, your mind racing with thoughts of Terry, wondering if he was thinking about you too, wondering how much longer you’d have to wait before he was finally home. As you slipped under the

covers, your mind drifted to your happy place and that was Terry. Eventually after saying a quick silent prayer for him and his safety like you did every night, you finally went to sleep. 

The morning light seeped through the blinds, casting long golden streaks across your bedroom. You lay there for a moment, tangled in your silk sheets, staring at the ceiling with a heavy mind. The anticipation sat on your chest like a weight. Today could be the day you got answers—real answers—about Terry’s release. No more guesswork, no more waiting in limbo. Either he’d be home in time for your birthday, or he wouldn’t. And if it was up to you, there wouldn’t be a wouldn’t. Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, shaking you from your thoughts. The number was unfamiliar, but you knew who it had to be before you even swiped to answer.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy, thick with sleep, but there was an urgency beneath it.

“Good morning, this is Michael Walker, Terry Richmond’s attorney.” The voice on the other end was smooth, professional, but you caught that slight edge—like he was bracing himself for a conversation you might not want to have. “I wanted to give you an update on his case. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course. What’s the update?” You pushed yourself upright, resting your back against the headboard.

Michael exhaled. “So here’s where we are. We’re still waiting on the judge’s final decision regarding his release. As you know, we’ve been pushing hard for full release instead of parole, but the system moves at its own pace. Right now, it’s looking like one of two things will happen—either the judge will sign off on his release, and he’ll be free to come home, or he’ll be granted parole with conditions.”

Your stomach twisted at the word “conditions.” That could mean anything. A curfew. Mandatory check-ins. Restrictions on where he could go, what he could do. You wanted Terry free—not still tangled in the system’s web.

“Is there a chance he’ll be home by my birthday?” You asked, your voice smaller than you intended.

Michael hesitated. That damn hesitation. You hated it. “That’s what we’re aiming for,” He said finally. “But it’s all in the judge’s hands. We’re doing everything we can to make it happen, but we need to be realistic.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone. “I just… I need him home.” The words left you before you could stop them, more vulnerable than you wanted to sound.

“I get it,” Michael said, and for the first time, there was something softer in his tone. “But here’s the thing—you need to make sure Terry understands how important it is for him to stay in line right now. He’s close. So damn close. But if he gets into it with the COs, if he so much as breathes wrong in there, it could delay everything. Or worse.”

A lump formed in your throat. Terry had been through hell in that prison. You knew how hard it was for him to bite his tongue, to play the game when the guards disrespected him just for breathing. You also knew how much some of those inmates hated to see another Black man about to touch freedom. Envy was a dangerous thing.

“I’ll talk to him,” You said firmly. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

“Good,” Michael replied. “I’ll keep you posted on any updates. Until then, just keep him focused on what’s waiting for him on the outside.”

And that’s exactly what you planned to do. Because he was coming home. To you. To the life y’all had spent two years dreaming up. And you weren’t about to let anything or anyone take that away. The weight of everything that needed to be done before Terry came home sat on your shoulders like a mix of excitement and pressure. There was so much to prepare, so much to buy, so much to perfect before your man walked through that door and took his rightful place in your life. Clothes, toiletries, shoes, cologne—he was stepping into a world he hadn’t been a part of since he was barely legal, and you were determined to make sure he had everything he needed to start fresh. And then there was you. Your own upkeep was just as important. You wanted to look good good for him. A fresh Brazilian wax so your skin was baby smooth, eyebrows snatched, lashes full and fluttery, and your hair? Oh, that had to be flawless—not just for your birthday but because you already knew he was going to have it all over the place by the end of the night. You could already hear the headboard knocking, already feel his breath on your skin, already picture the way he’d grip you like he was making up for lost time. The thought alone made your stomach tighten with anticipation.

But beyond all the surface-level preparation, there was a deeper feeling swirling inside you. Letting a man you’d only seen through a screen and heard through a receiver move into your home was a huge step. Some would call it crazy. Hell, a part of you knew it was risky, but love had never been about playing it safe. And with Terry? It had never felt like a risk. It felt right. He was your soulmate—plain and simple. The man you wanted to

wake up to, fall asleep with, build a family with. You’d spent two years loving him from a distance, and now, you were stepping into a reality where he was yours in every way. You weren’t naive to the adjustments that would come with it, but you also weren’t afraid. He was worth it.

With a stretch and a soft sigh, you finally pulled yourself out of bed, the silk of your nightgown clinging to your curves as you padded across your bedroom. It barely covered your ass, the hem rising with each step, and you lazily reached for your robe, wrapping it around you before making your way into the kitchen. The house was still, quiet, but soon, it would be filled with his presence. Him walking around shirtless, his deep voice filling up every room, his scent lingering on the furniture. You couldn’t wait. As you reached for the fridge, your eyes landed on the Polaroid photo of him taped to the door—one of the few glimpses of him outside of a call or a video chat. He had sent it during one of the rare inmate photo days, his expression serious but his eyes still burning with something that made your stomach flip. Damn, you fine. You ran a finger over the image, smiling to yourself before pulling out the eggs and milk.

The one thing people probably wouldn’t understand was why you had never visited him in prison. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. God knew you had begged to. But Terry? Terry was territorial to his core. It had taken months of back-and-forth, of pleading and arguing, before you finally accepted that he wasn’t going to let you step foot in that visiting room. He didn’t want no prison guards or inmates looking at his woman—studying you, lusting after you, imagining things about you that only he was allowed to. You belonged to him, and the thought of other men—especially those locked up with him—laying their eyes on you sent him into a rage he didn’t even try to hide. It wasn’t just possessiveness; it was protection. He had seen too many things go left in that place, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be a part of any of it. So, you let it go, trusting that the day would come when you wouldn’t have to love him from a distance. That day was almost here.

You were in the middle of whisking the batter for your waffles when your phone vibrated on the counter. Without hesitation, you snatched it up, already knowing who it was.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Terry’s deep, raspy voice sent a warmth down your spine. His morning voice was dangerous.

“Mmm, good morning, baby,” You hummed, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you continued mixing. “How’d you sleep?”

“Would’ve slept better with you underneath me,” He murmured, the smirk in his tone evident. “What my baby got planned for today?”

You bit your lip, smiling. “Just a quick Target and BJ’s run to stock the house up for you, then I gotta get my nails done. Oh, and I gotta swing by the post office to pick up my bundles that came in.”

He chuckled, low and knowing. “Mmm, you tryna get fine for Big Daddy?”

“Mmhmm.” You giggled, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.

“Damn, girl…” His voice dropped a little lower, and you could almost see him licking his lips on the other end. “Ima eat that pussy like crazy, baby girl.”

Your breath hitched, a heat sparking between your thighs. “Terry!” You squealed, laughing. “Stop being nasty!”

“Nah, I’m deadass serious.” His tone was dark, full of hunger. “You don’t even know what you got coming.”

You took a steadying breath, trying to shake off the goosebumps crawling up your skin. “Listen, nasty man, we need to talk.” Your tone shifted, getting serious. “Your attorney called me this morning. We need to discuss what he told me.”

“What he say?” There was a pause before he answered with a serious tone. 

You exhaled. “Baby…” You gripped the phone tighter, staring at the batter as if it had the answers. “It’s about your release.”

Terry was silent for a moment, and you could feel the shift in his energy through the phone. That easy, teasing tone from before was gone, replaced by something heavier—something cautious.

“What about it?” His voice was lower now, tight with restraint.

You sighed, setting the whisk down and gripping the edge of the counter. “He said they’re still waiting on the judge to sign off, and it could go either way. Either parole or full release.” You paused, running your tongue over your lips. “I asked if you’d be home by my birthday, and he said that’s what they’re pushing for, but the judge has to approve it first and it appears the judge is taking their sweet ass time. Same shit you told me last night.” 

“Man… I been waiting years for this moment. If they try to stall this shit…” Terry sucked his teeth, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Baby, don’t even put that energy in the air,” You cut in quickly, gripping the phone. “It’s gonna happen. You just gotta hold tight.”

“I’m tryna hold tight, ma, but you don’t understand. I been locked down since I was eighteen. Half my life. I done played by they rules, kept my nose clean, did everything I was supposed to do. And now, when it’s finally my time to touch down, they wanna drag they feet?” His frustration was raw, and you didn’t blame him one bit.

“That’s why we gotta be smart about this,” You soothed, lowering your voice. “Your attorney said you need to walk a fine line, Terry. These COs and some of them inmates? They don’t want to see you win, baby. You getting out means they lose power over you. And if you let ‘em get under your skin, if you give them any reason to stall this—”

“I know, baby,” He gritted, cutting you off. “I ain’t stupid.”

“I never said you were,” You softened, biting your lip. “But you know they’ll do anything to keep a black man locked up. You know that. You can’t afford to slip.”

Another deep sigh. “I just wanna be with you, ma,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, the vulnerability cutting through all the frustration. “That’s all I been holding on to. You. Us. The life we ‘bout to have.”

“And you will be with me, Terry. Soon. I promise.” Your heart clenched, and you closed your eyes for a second.

“You the only thing keeping me sane right now, baby,” He muttered. “You really are.”

“And you the only man I want. Ain’t nothing gon’ change that.” You swallowed hard, that warmth creeping back into your chest.

He went quiet for a beat, then, “Damn, you really love me, huh?”

“Boy, you already know.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Say it,” He murmured.

“I love you, Terrance Richmond.” You bit your lip, smiling. 

A deep exhale came through the line, like those words alone were enough to ground him. “I love you too, ma. More than you even know.”

“You better love me with your fine self.” You giggled, continuing to whisk the batter. He chuckled lowly, the sound making your ears perk up at the nostalgic sound.

“You know I want a baby soon as possible, right? Just like we talked about.” Terry’s voice dipped even lower, that familiar edge of possession curling around his words. 

“I know, baby.” You bit your lip, warmth spreading through your belly at the certainty in his tone.

“Nah,” He pressed. “I mean, soon as I get home, I’m filling you up. I ain’t playing.”

A giggle bubbled out of you. “Well, that’s good to know,”  You teased, twisting a strand of hair between your fingers. “Because I already got off my birth control, and I’m ovulating real soon.”

Silence. Then a sharp inhale from Terry. “You serious?”

“Mmhmm.” A smirk played on your lips 

“Good,” He growled. “‘Cause I ain’t pulling out. I want you pregnant, mama. You carrying my son or my baby girl. I already see it.”

A deep shudder rolled through you at the sheer conviction in his voice. There was no hesitation, no doubt—he wanted this, just like you did. Now you knew having a baby before a ring wasn’t the most conventional thing. You were raised better than that, taught that marriage first was the way to go, that being someone’s “baby mama” wasn’t the move. But Terry? He wasn’t that type of man. This wasn’t some half-thought-out, heat-of-the-moment decision. You knew exactly what you were signing up for. From the moment you told him you wanted his baby, he made it crystal clear—both you and that child would have his last name. There would be no question, no hesitation. You weren’t about to be just someone’s BM. You were his woman, his future wife.

The plan was already in motion—soon as he got out, y’all were hitting the courthouse and making it official. No long engagement, no drawn-out wedding planning stress. He wanted to be your husband immediately. And once he was settled, once he was back on his feet, working and bringing in real money, then he’d give you that big wedding, the

one with the flowers, the dress, the family all gathered to watch you walk down the aisle. But for now? The paper, the commitment, you—that’s what mattered most to him.

It wasn’t like you weren’t set up already. You made damn good money, and your degree in business administration had you sitting pretty in a high-paying corporate consulting job, helping multi-million-dollar firms streamline their operations. Your salary was more than enough to hold things down while Terry got back on his feet, and you’d already mapped out a business plan to help him reintegrate. Finding a job after doing seventeen years inside wasn’t easy, but you had resources, connections, a plan. You weren’t just bringing him home—you were making sure he stayed home. You were building a life with this man, and every step of it felt right.

“You think your family gon’ like me?” Terry exhaled through the phone, his deep voice softening just a little. Your smile, bright and easy just seconds ago, slowly faded. It was a fair question. A real one. But it wasn’t an easy one to answer. You knew your mama. Sweet, nurturing, and warm when she wanted to be, but judgmental as hell. A devout Christian woman—saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Ghost. She wasn’t fond of anything remotely sinful, and Terry… well, Terry was the walking definition of sinful.

There was no denying he was a fine-ass man. That wasn’t the issue. Standing tall at 6’3”, with those piercing hazel eyes that seemed to shift between ocean-gray and a stormy blue-green depending on the light. Rich, light caramel skin that deepened into a golden bronze in the summer but softened into a fairer hue in the colder months. A strong, chiseled jawline that made him look both dangerous and regal. His lips? Plump, full, always looking like they were ready to be kissed—or used for something far nastier. His short-cropped curly fro was just long enough to grab, and those thick, corded muscles? Yeah. His time behind bars didn’t just sculpt his body—it turned him into a damn statue, cut from flesh instead of marble. His tattoos, inked along his thick arms, added to his edge. Especially that sleeve—his latest one, a masterpiece he got done while inside.

He was the kind of man that turned heads when he walked into a room. The kind that made women cross their legs and bite their lip. But he wasn’t the “good, God-fearing man” your mother had envisioned for you. Terry was the complete opposite. And yet, his heart was the purest thing about him. Despite his past, despite the anger and the hurt buried deep in his soul, he was a good man. A gentle soul trapped in an exterior so hard, so intimidating, most people never got to see the real him.

You inhaled sharply, trying to find the right words. “Baby, I gotta be honest with you.”

“Mmhmm?” His voice was calm. 

You sighed. “I don’t know. My mama… she can be a bit much. And the fact that I’ve been hiding this—hiding us—for the past two years? Oh, she gon’ have a fit. And my sister? Whew, she gon’ have a mouth full too. You’d probably have better luck with my aunties than my own mama.”

Terry chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your stomach flutter. “I get it, baby. I do.” His voice was soft, understanding. “But I ain’t going nowhere. She can side-eye me, throw oil on me, pray over me ‘til she blue in the face—I’m still gon’ be here. And I’ma do whatever I can to make her love me. To make her see I ain’t some monster. ‘Cause I want this, ma. I want us. I want your family to be my family, too.”

That made you smile. A big one. The kind that deepened your dimples and warmed you from the inside out. But there was something else weighing on you. Something heavy. Something you knew Terry wouldn’t want to talk about, but you had to ask.

You hesitated before carefully pushing forward. “Baby… you gon’ reach out to your mama once you’re free?”

“Nah, Y/N. I’m not.” He answered, his voice, tight and clipped. 

You swallowed. “Baby—”

“Ain’t like she gave a fuck about me in the first place,” he cut you off, his voice colder now. “I’m in here ‘cause of her. You know that.”

“I know. I do. But, baby… you gotta forgive. Not for her. For you. You need peace, Terry. You deserve that.” You exhaled slowly. His breathing was heavier now, like he was trying to keep himself from slipping into that dark place. You hated when he went there. When the bitterness and resentment started to eat away at him.

“I got peace, baby. I got you.” His voice softened just a little, but you could still hear the hurt beneath it. “That’s all I need.”

“I hear you baby.” You softly replied. You decided to respect his wishes and let the conversation about his mother rest. He had been through enough, and you weren’t about to push him into something he wasn’t ready for. Instead, you brightened up, shifting the energy as you let out a little squeal.

“Oh! Baby, my birthday dress came!” You announced excitedly, twirling a loose curl around your finger. “I can’t wait for you to see me in it.”

Terry’s smirk was damn near audible through the phone. “Oh yeah?” His voice dropped an octave, turning rich and smooth like warm honey. “That’s cool, baby… ‘cause I can’t wait to take that shit off you.”

“It is literally nine in the morning, and you already on go.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Because I got this pretty, brown-eyed woman waiting on me,” He murmured. “And I can’t stop staring at her picture, picturing our life together beyond these walls. I just need my woman bad.” He let out a breath, voice thick with longing. “I wanna turn your body inside out, have you laid up exhausted, and then make you breakfast in the morning while you recover, boo.”

“Leave the cooking to me, Richmond. Don’t need you burning our house up.” You smirked, scratching your head. You hadn’t even realized you said it like that—our house—until the words left your lips. But Terry caught it instantly. His heart swelled, warmth spreading through his chest like wildfire.

“Our,” He repeated, grinning through the phone. “I like the sound of that. And don’t worry, baby. I could never destroy anything of ours.” His words settled over you like a warm embrace, making your stomach flutter.

Terry cleared his throat after a beat. “So, your girls still takin’ you out for your birthday?”

“Mmhmm,” You confirmed, stretching lazily. “We’re hitting this grown and sexy lounge. Got a section, a table, should be real nice. I just wanted something low-key. Nothing too crazy.”

Terry hummed in approval. “That’s what’s up. You think your girls gon’ accept me?”

You snorted. “They’re gonna love you. Especially Deja. Sonya, though… she might take a minute. She’s Miss Fake Bougie, swearing she a real housewife of Atlanta. But deep down, she’s chill. Just real protective of me.”

Terry let out a low chuckle. “Aight, sounds like a plan, baby girl. Long as they ain’t plotting to run me off, we cool.”

“Never that.” You smiled, resting your chin in your hand, leaning on the countertop.

“Mm. Aight, tell me this, then—what’s the first meal I’m getting when I come home?” He inquired, with a devious smirk. 

“Well, I was thinking… me.” Your voice became real seductive, tilting your head. 

Terry’s laughter rumbled through the phone, low and sinful. “Ain’t no thinking, that’s a guarantee. But just to be safe, cook us something for after, ‘cause we gon’ need the strength.”

“Terry, you so damn silly.” You burst out laughing, shaking your head at him.

“You love it,” He teased, and he wasn’t wrong. Because behind all that reserved, stoic energy, Terry Richmond was a damn goofball at heart. And he was your goofball. The conversation between you and Terry continued, the two of you just vibing, killing time before you had to finally pull yourself away and get in the shower. He told you about a wild dream he had last night—some crazy mix of old memories and future fantasies of the two of you together.

“Man, I swear, I had the realest dream, baby,” He said, voice lazy and deep. “We was laid up in this big-ass house, had the baby in the crib next to us… you was wearin’ my T-shirt, lookin’ all sexy with your lil’ bonnet on, and I just kept pullin’ you closer, not even tryna let you sleep.”

“So you gon’ keep me up even in your dreams?” You laughed, rolling onto your side, twirling the bedsheets between your fingers. 

“Hell yeah,” He said without hesitation. “I been starvin’, baby. Soon as I touch down, I’m eatin’ you up, kissin’ on you, makin’ love to you every chance I get. You gon’ be sick of me.”

“Never that daddy,” You murmured, feeling warmth spread through your body at just the thought of how it would feel to finally have him home.

“Bet,” He chuckled, then let out a deep sigh. “I just be sittin’ in this cell picturing it, picturing us—you in the tub, all soaped up, candles lit, slow jams playin’… me right behind you, holdin’ you close, runnin’ my hands all over that soft ass skin, kissing up your neck… licking on your nipples..”

Your breath hitched, already envisioning the exact same thing. You had put together a playlist for his arrival—nothing but the smoothest 90s and early 2000s R&B, songs that made you wanna melt into somebody’s arms.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about?” You asked, biting your lip.

“What, baby?”  He feigned innocence.

“How you gon’ be sneakin’ into the shower while I’m tryna get ready for work,” you giggled. “Talkin’ about, ‘lemme wake you up the right way’—like I don’t have places to be!”

Terry laughed but then hummed in approval. “Shit, I am waking you up the right way. Gon’ have you walkin’ into work with a smile so big, they gon’ know somebody put it there.”

Your stomach flipped at the thought, heat rising to your cheeks. You were so gone for this man. “You just wait, Richmond,”You teased, sighing dramatically. “You about to be a full-time distraction.”

“That’s my plan, baby.” He grinned through the phone. 

After a few more minutes of sweet talk, you finally sighed. “Alright, I need to get in the shower before I lay here and talk to you all day.”

“I ain’t stoppin’ you,” Terry teased. “I just wanna hear the water runnin’. Let me close my eyes and imagine it.”

“Boy, bye!” You laughed, shaking your head before reluctantly hanging up.

—

The hot water cascaded over your skin as you leaned against the shower wall, letting the warmth soak into your muscles. Your mind was racing with all the intimate moments you’d been daydreaming about since Terry’s release date became a real possibility. Late nights soaking in the tub together, his strong arms wrapped around you, his lips trailing along your shoulder. Waking up to him pulling you into his body, whispering in your ear before making love to you first thing in the morning. The idea of sharing a home, a bed, a life with him made your stomach flip with anticipation. You had been living alone for so long, moving on your own schedule, answering to no one. But now, there would be him. His things mixed with yours, his scent lingering in your sheets, his presence filling the empty spaces. And you couldn’t wait.

Once you finished luxuriating, you stepped out, wrapping yourself in a plush towel. You took your time getting dressed—pulling on a pair of black leggings that hugged your curves and a Nike sports bra, slipping into your most comfortable sneakers. You tied your hair into a sleek bun, then grabbed a baseball cap to shield your eyes from the Georgia sun. After grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30, you were just about to head out the door when your phone rang and you saw it was Sonya.

You sighed before answering, already bracing yourself. “What’s up, girl?”

“Mm, what you got going on today?” She asked, her tone full of suspicion, like she knew you were up to something.

“Just about to make a quick Target and BJ’s run,” You said casually, hoping she’d just let it go.

“Oh, perfect! I need to hit Target anyway! I’ll meet you there.” She stated. You internally cringed. Sonya didn’t know about Terry yet. And you definitely didn’t need her up in your cart asking a hundred questions about all the men’s products you were grabbing.

“Girl, I’m moving quick today,” You abruptly said, trying to throw her off. “Gotta be in and out, no time for browsing.”

“Please, you never just ‘run in’ anywhere,” Sonya scoffed. “I’ll keep up.”

“Sonya…” You huffed, rubbing your temple. 

“What?” She laughed. “Why you sound so stressed? You tryna move funny or somethin’?”

“You know I move funny, that ain’t new.”You let out a dry laugh. 

“Mhm, and that’s exactly why I’m coming.” She snickered. 

You sighed dramatically, knowing there was no way out of this now. “Fine, I’ll see you there,” You relented, already planning how you were going to strategically avoid letting her see all the things you were picking up for Terry. You hurried up and grabbed your car keys and your Stanley cup from your kitchen counter before heading right out the door to your car. You hit the unlock button on your key fob and heard the chirp. Sliding into the plush leather seat of your Mercedes-Benz, you place your Stanley cup in the cupholder before pressing the push-to-start button. The engine purrs to life, and before you can even adjust the air, the CarPlay screen lights up, immediately blasting the smooth, honeyed vocals of Maxwell’s “Fortunate” through the speakers.

Your heart leaps in excitement. “SING IT, MAXWELL!” You squeal, gripping the steering wheel and swaying your shoulders as if you’re right there on stage with him. 

This is your song. Terry’s song. The one he always sings to you over the phone—completely off-key but with so much passion, like he’s pouring every piece of himself into it. You can still hear him now—“I never sang a song with all my might…”—his deep, rough voice twisting the lyrics into something that sounds nothing like Maxwell, but you never cared. It was him. It was you. It was love. You pull out of the driveway, easing onto the streets of Atlanta, the sun gleaming against the hood of your Benz. The beat of the song wraps around you, filling every inch of the car with warmth. With one hand on the wheel and the other tapping rhythmically against your thigh, you let the city move around you, the skyline stretching high above as you feel the music, feel the love behind every lyric. Terry is coming home. Soon. And as Maxwell’s voice croons through the speakers, you let yourself dream—of slow dances in the living room, of his arms pulling you close as you sway to this very song, of him pressing soft kisses along your shoulder while mumbling the lyrics into your ear.You exhale, your lips curling into a soft, knowing smile. It’s only a matter of time.

Pulling into the Target parking lot, you let out a long, heavy sigh, gripping the wheel as you mentally prepared yourself for Sonya. You loved your girl—no doubt about it. Sonya was one of those ride-or-die friends who would cut up with you on a Saturday night and pray with you on Sunday morning. But she was also the kind of woman who didn’t know the meaning of boundaries. She always had to be up in the mix, tasting the flavor, giving unsolicited advice even when it wasn’t needed. And it wasn’t that you didn’t want to share Terry with your girls—because you did. He was your man, and you were proud of him.

But you wanted to make sure this was real. That this was happening. That he was actually going to be home before you started bragging and boasting about him to your family and friends. You couldn’t count how many times you’d gotten excited about a brotha, only for him to turn out to be a disappointment. And every time, you had to do the walk of shame, explaining to everyone that it didn’t work out. You hated the look of disappointment on your mother’s face, the I told you so smirk on your sister’s lips, and God forbid Sonya’s infamous, “I knew that nigga wasn’t shit.” speeches. And then there was Deja, who always chimed in with, “Girl, want me to get my cousin to kill him?”

You loved your girls, but the last two years had been a sacred kind of peace. You had cultivated this private, intense, deeply intimate relationship with Terry while he was behind bars, and there was something pure about keeping it just between the two of you. You knew that sometimes, outside influence could ruin a good thing, and you weren’t ready to share your world just yet. But if things aligned perfectly—if the odds were in your favor, if the judge signed off, and if God was looking out for you—then they would meet him the night of your birthday outing. You just hoped everything would fall into place. You hopped out of the car, grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30 from the passenger seat and slinging it over your arm. Just as you shut the door, you spotted Sonya standing near the entrance, her arms crossed, her stance already radiating irritation. You took a deep inhale, bracing yourself, then walked over, greeting her with a quick hug.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” You asked, noticing her sour expression.

“Chile, my damn hairstylist just sent me that infamous ‘Hey boo’ text, and I just know it’s about to be some bullshit.” Sonya sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

“That’s why I told you to stop going to her, Sonya. She’s unprofessional as hell and always canceling on you at the last minute.” You snorted and shook your head. 

“I know, I know,” She whined dramatically, throwing her hands up. “But girl, she know how to lay my damn wigs. She makes that lace look like scalp! I do not wanna go to nobody else!”

You laughed, grabbing a cart and rolling into the store with her. You weren’t even five steps inside before you gave her a knowing look and smirked. “I don’t even know why you waste your time getting them wigs laid, knowing Omar gon’ pull that shit right off your head and have your lace looking crazy by the end of the night.”

“You ain’t lying, girl. You really ain’t lying.” Sonya stuck her tongue out at you before giggling, clearly thinking about how wild her and her man got. 

You shook your head, laughing as you made your way toward the laundry aisle, grabbing detergent, fabric softener, and some cleaning products. You wanted the house to be

perfect for Terry’s homecoming—fresh sheets, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air, everything spotless for his arrival.

As you reached for a bottle of Febreze, Sonya nudged you. “So… you excited for your birthday?”

“Yeah… I really am.” You smiled, biting your lip as you nodded. Truth be told you were more excited for Terry’s arrival than your own birthday. For as long as you could remember you weren’t the most excited to celebrate your birthday. To you, it was just another day and another reminder that you were leaving your glorious twenties and getting closer to hitting your dirty thirties. That is until Terry came into your life and shifted your perspective on life itself. He taught you that every birthday should be celebrated and that life is too short to not celebrate the breath in your lungs and waking up everyday. Especially with his circumstances and how his life got snatched from him because he chose to do the right thing and defend his mother’s honor against her abuser, but in the end it wasn’t so honorable and his dreams and young life got cut short with the snap of a finger. So this year you chose to have a better outlook on your birthday, thanks to your baby Terry. 

 You continued to move swiftly through Target, pushing your cart with concentration, mentally checking off everything Terry will need once he’s home. You start with the Dove Men+Care bar soap, grabbing a few packs because you know the fresh, clean scent will suit him. Next is the Old Spice body wash—the deep, rich, masculine fragrance makes you weak in the knees, so you know it’ll be perfect for him. You toss it in the cart, followed by men’s deodorant, mouthwash, and toothpaste—because even though you’ve never stood close enough to breathe him in, you already decided that your man will smell fresh, clean, and irresistible.

You head down the haircare aisle, running your fingers over the different bottles before settling on a moisturizing shampoo and conditioner. You know prison air is dry as hell, and you’re not about to have your man coming home with his hair brittle and neglected. A large jar of Palmer’s whipped cocoa butter goes into the cart next—you love how smooth and rich it feels against your skin, and you can already picture yourself rubbing it into his arms, his shoulders, his hands… making sure he’s soft and well taken care of. Just as you’re reaching for a pack of Dude Wipes, Sonya turns from the next aisle, glancing over at your cart. She tilts her head, her perfectly arched brows raising as she takes in all the men’s products sitting inside.

“Uh-uh. Who’s all this for?” She asks, crossing her arms. Your heart skips a beat.

“Oh!” You force out a laugh, thinking quick. “My sister’s in town with her fiancé, and they’re staying at my mom’s house. She needed some stuff to keep there for him.”

Sonya narrows her eyes for a second, then shrugs. “Oh okay, that makes sense. I was about to say, girl, you got a whole grown man’s starter kit in there.”

You laugh nervously, nodding as you grip the handle of your cart, pushing forward. Just when you think you’re in the clear, your phone buzzes in your purse. You glance down and see the caller ID: Terry’s lawyer. Your stomach instantly tightens. He already called earlier—so why is he calling again?

“Hey, hold on,” You tell Sonya, trying to keep your voice light. “I gotta take this real quick.”

“Cool, I’ll meet you at checkout.” Sonya waves you off, already distracted by something on the next shelf. Stepping out of the aisle, you answer, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answer, voice low. 

“We’ve got a problem,” His lawyer says, his voice urgent.Your body stiffens.

“What? What happened?” You held your breath. 

“There’s been an incident in the prison yard. Terry was involved.” He deeply sighs. Your heart  plummets straight to your ass because you told this nigga—.

“WHAT?!” You shout, loud enough that people around you turn their heads. You clamp a hand over your mouth, forcing yourself to breathe, to stay calm.

“I’m still gathering details,” His lawyer continues, “ But from what I’m hearing, there was some kind of altercation. If the judge catches wind of this, his release could be revoked… or at the very least, stalled.”

The words ring in your ears, drowning out the noise of the store. Revoked?! Stalled?!Your hands start to tremble on the cart handle, your vision blurring with tears. Just when you thought you were so close to having him home—just when everything was falling into place—here comes some bullshit.

“Please… just tell me he’s okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. You swallow hard, gripping the phone tighter.

“I really don’t know. I’m working on it. I’ll call you back when I know more.” He sighed again, sounding defeated. Then the line goes dead, making you tear up. You stood frozen in the middle of Target, your world spinning, your stomach in knots. And just like that, everything you had been dreaming of, praying for, feels like it’s slipping right through your fingers.

This couldn't be happening right now, not right now....

@captainwithoutmakingitlove

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[taboo-delusion]

Everyone on earth is a pervert and an addict about SOMETHING.

Every single person has an equal potential to help or to hurt.

Calling names, or saying someone "is a __", is just a waste of time. Whatever you call a nazi could also be applicable to someone who isn't a nazi. This just feeds the idea that they must be a nazi if they take a cheat day to indulge in their addiction. Stuff like this just feeds their own fear and confusion, and might push them towards becoming a nazi. Especially if they're neurodivergent. Doing this will only further divide us. And that's exactly what they want.

Remember that news article, about the nazi who started taking meds for ADHD? And remember how they very quickly realized how wrong they've been? And then they stopped being a nazi. They hate nazis.

Not everyone who does something is an enemy. Sometimes they are. Sometimes they're not.

When you talk to someone, try to remember who else you might be accidentally hurting.

Punch a nazi. Send them to therapy. Whichever works. They need to get some sense knocked into them.

[slut4megantheestallion]

"Mine to ruin" - Jinx (arcane)

Mdni. Bottom!reader, strap-on usage, Dom!Jinx, wlw, wlw x reader, teasing, dirty talk, Doggystyle, breeding kink.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐

The dim neon lights painted by the walls in shifting hues, pulsing in the time in with your heartbeat. The mattress beneath you creaked, your mascara messed up from the hot kissing you had with jinx before you ended up in the ended up in bed in a doggystyle position. Jinx pressed her body against yours, her fingers trailing over the back of your skin like she was memorizing every inch.

"Damn, sweets..." her voice was a low, sultry purr. "Look at you. Bent over for me. With my cock inside of you, just beggin' to get wrecked. You're so good for me, y'know that?"

Her hands roam, fingers digging into your hips as she rolled her hips against you thrusting into you, slow at first, teasing, making you whimper as you whimper in frustration as you grip on the bed for some stability.

"AH~ Fuck! Jinx wants more, baby! Harder!~" You moan loudly impatiently as jinx chuckles at how desperate you are.

"Aww, you want more? What, this ain't enough for ya, slut?" She giggles, breath warm against your ear. "Nah, I think I wanna hear you beg for it first, toots~"

She pulled back, stopping just to let you feel the loss of her, making you arch towards her, desperate for friction. That's when she slammed the strap back into your core,sharp and deep, tears flowing in your eyes as hold tighter to the bed sheet as the bed creaked loudly, her fingers pressing bruises into your skin.

"F-Fuck, that's it. Take it, sweets. Take all of it." Her voice wavered, but the smugness never left. She loved watching you fall apart for her.

Jinx let's out a breathy chuckle, her pace unrelenting as she leaned over you, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"Y'ever think about it?" She murmured. "Me... breeding you with cum and puttin' a baby in ya? Filling ya up real good 'til you're all swollen with me?"

Your breath hitched, a whimper past your lips turned on by the imagination of being pregnant and having jinx's babies, and jinx heard it. She felt it. And oh, she loved it.

"Ohh, you do like that, huh?" She giggled, nipping at your neck. "You want me to knock ya up, don'tcha? Wanna be my perfect little breedin' bunny, all around 'n full for me?"

Her thrusts grew rough, deeper, her nails scraping down your back as she groaned, "Fuck, sweets... If I could, I'd stuff ya full of me, make sure ya can't walk straight, 'til everyone knows who ruined ya."

You gasped, hands clutching the sheets, and jinx smirked at how easy it was to unravel you. She gripped your chin, forcing you to turn your head just enough so she could kiss you, messy and desperate.

"I love seein' you like this," she purred against, your lips. "You're mine, sweets. Ain't nobody gonna touch you but me. And if they try? Heh... well, guess I'll just have to put a baby in ya so they really get the message."

Her laughter rang in your ears as she pushed you right to the edge, her voice dripping with possessions, obsession, love.

"C'mon, be good for me, sugar... Let me see you fall apart for me again."

And oh, you did.

Jinx didn't let up. Even when your body trembled beneath her, even when you gasped for breath, she just grinned and kept going, rolling her hops slow and deep, feeling the plastic toy, watching you twitch beneath her.

"Mmm, don't tell me you're done already?" She teased, finger dragging down your spine, making you shiver. "C'mon, sweets, you can hand a little more, can't ya?"

She leaned over you, pressing kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw- each one soft, almost loving, a sharp contrast to the way she was stilling rocking into you, drawing out every little whimper, every sharp inhale.

"Told ya, I ain't stoppin' til I'm sure you get it," she murmured against your skin. "Mine. Every part of ya. Ain't no one else ever gonna touch you like this."

Her grip tightened on your hips, her movements growing rougher as you felt the silicone of the strap, like she was trying to mark you from the inside out.

"Fuck, sweets, I wish I could fill you up for real. Watch you get round with me, all full 'n perfect."

Her words shiver down your spine, heat pooling deep in your core, and jinx felt it l because she laughed, breathy and smug.

"Ohh, you really like that, huh?" She cooed, pressing a hand to your stomach, fingers splaying out possessively. "Can practically feel ya squeezin' me everytime I talk about knockin' ya up. You're so easy, sweets. So fuckin' cute."

She pulled back just enough to slap your ass, the sharp sting making you yelp out in pain and pleasure, and she giggled, absolutely delighted.

"I could do this all night, sugar. Keep ya right here, nice 'n needy, fuck you 'til you're cryin' for me."

And with the way she was moving, the way she was whispering filthy things into your ear, you knew she meant it.

Jinx had no intention of stoppin until she'd wrung every last bit of pleasure from you- until you were shaking and gasping and utterly wrecked.

And honestly? You didn't want her to.

(Based on the jinx idea post I posted a few days ago, instead of her fucking you on the couch I changed it into the bed, instead.

[oceantornadoo]

ch12 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: shepherd gets tortured. reader has ptsd. violence and gore. everyone's a little feral.

masterlist | next

“John.” You breathe.

He’s there at the top of the stairwell, haloed by light like an avenging angel. Before you can reach out, someone yanks you backward.

You fall back in a tangle of limbs, you and Shepherd hurtling down the wooden stairs. The proximity disgusts you more than the hurt of falling as you try valiantly to push him off. He’s got  a vice-like grip on your arms, holding you from the back when you settle at the bottom of the stairs. What he doesn’t expect is your bite, sinking your teeth into the hand closest to your mouth. Shepherd releases you only slightly but it’s enough for you to land a kick to his shin and crawl away. 

You’re almost free when you feel his hand on your ankle. He’s like a parasite you can’t shake. You gather your strength to turn as his nails dig in, but you feel them release with a sharp crack. It’s John.

He stepped on Shepherd’s elbow with his heel, and you’re pretty sure it’s broken by the way the General lays on the floor in shock. John’s better than those instincts though, grabbing the man by the collar and throwing him far away from you. It’s a flurry of activity after that. Flashes of Simon cradling your face, Gaz checking you for wounds, John securing Shepherd. When you finally process that you’re safe, you wiggle out of Simon’s arms to find John. He’s standing over Shepherd with a gun in hand. The villain himself is tied down to the chair you were kept in. Each leg is tied to a leg of the chair, and his arms tied to the arms of it as well. There’s rope in his mouth, gagging him from spewing more violence.

“John.” He doesn’t turn to you, eyes on your kidnapper. “You okay?” He murmurs out of the corner of his mouth. You nod, then whisper a small ‘yes’ when you realize John can’t see you. “He hurt you?” You take stock of your injuries. A bruise tailbone and hips from where you were tugged down the stairs. Your arms ache from thrashing against your restraints. “Yes.” You whisper. There’s a sound of metal on metal, and the gun in his hand is replaced by a switchblade. On a closer look, you realize it’s not John’s but Simon’s. When you turn back to your brother, all he does is nod, no regret on his face.

“Got some question f’ ya ‘fore ya die, Shepherd.” Shepherd tries to spit at John, but the gag stops him. “Who’s the rat?” Shepherd stays silent, eyes glaring. “When I pull down this rope, all y’r sayin’ is a name. You’ll pay f’r anythin’ else.” John tugs the gag down, away from the man’s teeth. Shepherd sucks in a breath, then spits near John’s shoe. “Fuck you and your bastard. Bet she’s loose like a slut anyway.”

John starts with Shepherd’s fingers, the ones that pulled you down the stairs. The switchblade is sharp but small, so it takes a minute for Shepherd’s left ring finger to separate from his hand. You watch with detached interest as he bucks against the confines of his own rope, legs kicking out violently. Gaz walks behind the chair to hold it down, his muscles flexing with effort. Finally, John cuts the finger off. Shepherd wails behind the gag, but you flinch only when the tip of his finger rolls towards you on the carpet. Before it can reach you, John kicks it away and repeats the process with Shepherd’s right finger. The man is starting to pale, white and ashy with blood loss. You don’t care.

“Next question. Where are my weapons?” Shepherd shakes his head, but you can’t tell if it’s from shock or a refusal to answer. “Last chance, General.” John rips down the gag again. “You’ll never find ‘em. Every day you’ll wake up thinking this will be-” John pulls the gag back up, cutting him off. “Christ, he’s a piece of work.” Gaz mutters from behind you. 

“He called ya a bastard and a slut, tha’ righ’?” You can practically hear Simon flinch at John’s words. “And a brat.” You answer. John nods to Gaz, who tears the gag off of Shepherd. “You’re gonna fuckin’ pay for this, John Price. My men are loyal, they’ll avenge-” Avenge what, you’re not exactly sure, as a gloved hand grabs Shepherd’s tongue. It’s Simon’s. His grip is sure, securing Shepherd’s slimy mouth even as he moves his head from right to left. It quickly stops when John pierces the middle with his knife, enough to go all the way through. You inch closer to watch, wrapping your hands around your waist as you watch the torture continue. John rips the knife to one end, the metal slicing easily through muscle. He comes back to finish the job on the other side, Simon taking the tongue as a souvenir. Shepherd tries to talk, but both the blood and lack of tongue limit his speech.

“Anythin’ else, sweetheart?” You think back to your body. Of how it felt to be knocked out for who knows how long, waking up in an unfamiliar location and not knowing who transported you there. Of wearing clothes that weren’t yours. “His dick.” You murmur. John might be smiling, it’s hard to tell underneath the shadows of the room and his beard. Simon unzips Shepherd’s pants, yanking them down forcefully so the friction burns. “You goin’ t’ watch, baby?” John asks. You nod. It’s the first step of healing, you think, in some fucked up way. John doesn’t care to wipe the blood off the knife, sliding it down Shepherd's cheekbone in a violent caress. “Because my wife is watchin’, I’ll make this quick. You can thank ‘er f’r that mercy when you’re rottin’ in hell.” John slices Shepherd’s flaccid dick off easily, making sure the only time you see it is once it’s detached. Blood is everywhere now, matching the blood red carpet. A part of you muses that there will be no need to clean.

“We good?” It’s the first time John has really looked at you, turning his body all the way. Your avenging angel with dark circles under his eyes and another man’s blood on his hands. You nod eagerly, wanting to go home.

When John slices Shepherd's throat, it’s like cutting through butter. A release.

John wraps you in his arms when the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. Your legs around his waist, your face in the crook of your neck. Neither of you care about the blood on his body. “I’m sorry.” It’s like both of you say it, words meshing with tears. He maneuvers you to a nearby couch, some piece of furniture you hadn’t noticed in the corner. All of the movement in the background washes over you: the men moving the body, Gaz asking about Phil, footsteps up the stairs. You want to tell John that you’re crying because of the past few days and not because of his actions right now, but the words get caught in your throat. John tucks his own head into the crook of your neck at what must be an uncomfortable angle. He’s crying too, soaking through the shirt you’re wearing without your consent. The realization jolts you: there’s a t-shirt and pair of joggers on your body that you did not put on. 

He feels the switch instantly. John pulls back, red eyes matching yours, concern etched into his forehead. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You pull at the fabric, hiccupping before answering. “They- they changed me when I was knocked out. I don’t know who…” You trail off, caught in a nightmare. John barks an order at Simon, and your brother takes it, hustling up the stairs like his life depends on it. It would make you laugh if you weren’t so raw, the realities of the past days hitting you. Rough thumbs brush the soft skin under your eyes, capturing tears you didn’t even know were falling. It just makes you cry harder. 

Simon appears holding a sweatshirt and sweatpants out, all black. “Here, love.” It’s directed towards you but John takes them instead, thanking your brother in low tones. Everyone in the room leaves, closing the door at the top for some privacy. 

“You want my help?” You nod. John pulls you off his lap and into a standing position. Your body is shutting down and he knows, those blue eyes of his all seeing. He peels off the shirt and exhales a breath when he sees they kept you in your bra. “Up we go, baby.” He helps you raise your arms into the sleeves, tugging the sweatshirt down. His hands feel safer than your own because you know he’d stop if you asked. You don’t know what your own hands would do. He tugs down the old pants, stiffening when he sees your underwear. “Did they…?” He asks firmly. You shake your head no. “Phil kept making me drink water without a bathroom.” John nods, sliding down the underwear and pulling up the new sweatpants so fast that you don’t even feel exposed. “My brave girl.” He kisses your forehead and it’s the end of everything.

Exhaustion hits you like a train. You can finally relax, having been in survival mode for the past two days. When John gathers you in his lap again, you fall into a dreamless sleep.

-

“Simon.” John grunts. He’s holding your sleeping body in his arms at the top of the stairs, letting Simon know to open the door. It creaks open and you whimper at the sound, burrowing yourself further into him. The ground floor of the church is bright, sun streaming through the broken windows like a holy trick. Shepherd picked an abandoned church near the library John gifted you. It scares him to think about how much information Phil fed him, how much information you gave freely in the name of what you thought was friendship. Guilt is sickly sweet in his heart, candycoated with relief that he found you. That he kept his promise to keep you.

“She’s dead asleep.” John whispers. They don’t acknowledge that this is the first time he’s called Simon by his name, or that Simon even let him. They’re true brother’s-in-law now, bound to their duty to you. He doesn’t think about what would have happened if they hadn’t trusted each other. “You takin’ her t’ the library?” John doesn’t ask how Simon knows about it, only shaking his head. “Could be compromised. ‘M takin’ her home.” Home. Manchester no longer. 

“Gaz.” He appears in an instant. “Sir?” Gaz’s eyes flick to your body wrapped around John, filled with concern. “I want everyone out of the Castle except the guards. Don’t care where you put ‘em. Johnny found the rat yet?” Gaz shakes his head frustratedly. “Not for lack of trying, sir.” Before John can respond, Simon pipes up. “Let me at ‘em.” John nods his affirmation and starts moving to the car. Before he gets all the way back, he turns to face Gaz and Simon, conferring like they’re always been on the same team. “No survivors. Shepherd's or rats.” They nod without question. 

It’s a worrisome ride home. John checks your pulse twice, just to make sure this isn’t a trick. There’s blood on your cheeks, in the roots of your hair, on your fingers. It’s all Shepherd’s, but when John squints, it looks like yours. Like this was all a dream and he’s going to wake up to Gaz telling him they found your corpse. John Price does not deserve to have his wife in his arms. He’s spilled too much blood, split up families and killed men while staring into their eyes. You deserve so much more than a man who tortured your kidnapper in front of you. 

You let out a soft moan, waking in his arms. “John?” You whisper, afraid. He tightens his grip on you, stroking your soft cheeks until your eyes flutter open. “‘S me, baby.” You give him a smile, easy and big like you’re drunk. “I thought this was a dream.” He kisses your forehead. “I did too. Back t’ sleep now.” You comply, closing your eyes and nuzzling into him sweetly. He vows to never let you out of his sight again.

-

When you wake, it’s to an unfamiliar ceiling and the night sky bleeding through the window to paint the walls. You jolt, panting as you sit up. “Hey, hey, you’re okay, sweetheart. You’re home.” When you blink a few times, you realize you’re in the Castle’s sitting room, lying prone on a couch. John’s in front of you, showered and clean, sitting on a footrest near you. He has his hands out like he’s calming a horse and you want to laugh at the absurdity, but he might think you’re crazy. Instead, you nod, turning your gaze to your hands. They’re clean but feel dirty, like they were wiped down instead of scrubbed. “Why am I here?” You ask. “Didn’t want t’ wake ya or bring blood into our bedroom. Wanted to make sure I undressed ya with y’r permission.” You nod, biting your lip. He’s so goddamn sweet, even after mutilating a man in front of you. The urge to shower shakes through your core, leaving your body shuddering.

“I need to- need to get clean.” You’re already taking unsteady steps off the couch and towards the bedroom. John puts his hand on your back and you don’t see it until you feel it. You flinch at the contact and your heart clenches as his hand drops. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect that.” He nods, eyes filled with understanding. “Why don’t ya drop y’r clothes in the hamper an’ put it outside the bathroom. I’ll heat some food up f’ ya.” Your stomach grumbles in response. “Thanks, John.” He flinches. It’s minute but there. You both watch it happen, eyes catching each other. “Didn’t think I’d ever hear that again.” Tears well in your eyes but you blink them back resolutely. “Get me some food, John.” He nods at the order, walking backwards to the door until the last possible second where he has to turn. When he’s gone, there’s a hole in your chest.

You follow his instructions, leaving the bloody clothes in a hamper outside the door. You’re in the shower for an hour. Exfoliate, scrub, repeat. Your fingers are pruney and your skin is raw but it doesn’t feel like enough. You can still feel the piss running down your leg, the hands grabbing your skin, the needle in your arm. You’re about to scrub again but your stomach rumbles. Finally, you turn off the water, running through the rest of your routine and grabbing a robe to keep you warm. When you open the door, John’s standing in front of it like he was listening the whole time. “When you turned off the water an’ got quiet, I almost knocked down the door.” You’re starting to realize he’s been affected by this too. 

Instead of responding, you press your forehead into his sternum. He pulls you in closer by the back of your neck, threading his fingers through your wet hair. That’s the only two points of contact, your arms dangling at your sides. It’s proof of life: he’s here, warm and alive. You’re no longer in a chair, being questioned or fed water. Tears soak his shirt a little and he only pulls away when you start sniffling. “Let’s get some food in ya.”

There’s a small table by the window that you use sometime when you’re reading. Tonight, John sits on one side and watches you spoon liquid into your mouth. “Water?” He nudges the cup towards you. You shake your head. The thought of water disgusts you, memories of Phil’s grimy hands wrenching your mouth open. John just nods, brushing his knuckle over your cheek before pulling back.

When you’re full and sleepy, another creeping feeling overtakes your skin. You’re in your robe and you need to change into pajamas, but John is there. Something you’d never think twice about is suddenly the only thought in your head. When you turn back to him, clutching a t-shirt to your chest with wet eyes, he just gets you and it breaks your heart a little. “Goin’ to check with the night guards. I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.” You change quickly, feeling exposed even in the safety of your own room. The shorts you’re wearing feel indecent, so you shuffle under the covers before you can overthink them.

John knocks before entering. He’s carrying a pillow and blanket, which makes you sit up in confusion. “You ok-” “What are you holding?” He looks down at his hands like he expected the items to suddenly change shape. “Thought I’d sleep in the spare room downstairs, give you some space.” There’s a weight in your throat, too big to swallow. “Stay. I can’t- can’t sleep alone, John. Not after-” He doesn’t let you finish in favor of smothering you in a hug. You’re too dehydrated to cry, simply sniffling into the crook of his neck. He’s on his knees on the floor of the room, propping you up. 

“I hate this.” You murmur. He squeezes your waist. “It’ll get better, baby. We’ll figure it out.” You sigh, then pull yourself back. A burst of affection rolls through your veins, causing you to thread your fingers through his beard. “What if I’m never back to normal?” He shakes his head, his hands covering yours. “I’m this close t’ chipping ya, sweetheart. Think we got t’ make a new normal.” He kisses the palm of your hand, then gets up. “Lock the door?” You whisper as he makes his way around the door. He nods, locking it and testing the handle for your benefit. When he climbs into bed and turns off the light, you immediately slide into his arms. 

“You kept your promise.”

“Can’t live without ya. You know that.”

The nightmares come in a sequence of your worst fears. 

A gloved hand muffling your mouth with a rag, except this time John watches you get dragged away. 

In an interrogation room, Simon watches from behind the window, eyes blinking slowly as he analyzes your answers. 

Trekking to your father’s grave with Shepherd’s gun at your back. When you get there, your father stands half-rotted, a key in his hands. 

Gaz and Johnny fight over you, but when you try to calm them, there’s a gag of rope in your mouth. You scream and no one can hear you.

Your mother is standing over your grave. You’re next to her but she can’t see you, no matter how you try to cling to her shoulders.

When you wake up screaming, John’s there, holding your face in his hands and telling you you’re going to be okay. All you can do is trust him.

-

this was lowkey hard to write. reader is a girl who will be ok.

-

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[henry7931]

Billy’s College Adventure Part 3

Samuel:

“Good Morning,” says Billy to me from my body.I almost have to do a double take after seeing myself laying next to me.

“Morning,” I say with a grin.

“So it’s Saturday, what do you have planned for us Mr. Bodythief?,”

“Well you’re gonna just have to dressed to find out,” I say back.

“Booooo!!!”

I stand up and Billy tosses a pillow at me.

“Relax! I’ll tell you more, let’s just get ready,” I say winking at him.

We both get dressed and it took all of my energy not to ask him if we could hook up in the shower.

I’m starting to really like Billy but I have this weird thing about getting too attached to a guy. Especially with the assholes I’ve dated in the past. I’ve just been burned too many times although Billy seems different…

I don’t know…I just don’t want him to think I’m too clingy. Which I now realize is an oxymoron since we are literally in each other’s bodies.

Anyways enough about my feels.

Billy and I head back to my apartment.

“This place looks familiar,” says Billy sarcastically.

“It’s not much especially compared to your place but it’s my temporary home,” I say back.

“Ohhh come this isn’t bad at all!”

“Billy you’re in a full ass house,” I say rolling my eyes.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m just the rich privileged kid.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re at least aware,” I say pushing your shoulder.

“So what’s the game plan? Are we just gonna stand around in your apartment?”

“ No. I need the book that my great uncle left me.”

I head into my room and open up my closet. I grab the book from the top shelf.

“So Billy, are you ready to put your powers to test?”

“Geez, I think so.”

“Good!”

I start scrolling through the book digging for the part where it talks about the power of having to swappers.

“Here it is!”

I’d start skimming through it and get to a specific part.

I start reading aloud, “ one swapper is powerful, but their abilities can be limited… but with two swappers now that’s some real power. Rarely in our culture you will see two swappers who are capable of getting along… But if two swappers can conjoin powers together, they can do some really interesting things. For instance, swapping and creating a new reality . Two swappers have the ability to swap two individuals bodies, and change the perception of reality where both individuals think that the body they are in has always been their body. Essentially, neither one of them know that they are swapped and everyone else around them thinks that has been their body the whole time.”

I stopped reading for a second and look up a Billy to see what his thoughts were about what I just read.

“ are you gonna keep going?”

“ well yeah, what do you think though?”

“ I think that’s pretty freaking cool. I mean it could be a little bit messed up, but I’m kind of interested to try it.”

“ Really? Are you 100% sure?”

“ yeah let’s do it!”

I continue to read the rest of the page and I get through all of the instructions.

“ OK Billy, now we have to find some guinea pigs.”

“ I mean, should we start with someone we know or try it with a stranger first?”

“ Well I think I controlled environment would be best. Somewhere where we cant let them walk away and lose them immediately after the swap.”

“Smart!”

“ I’m a genius right? Also, Billy, this doesn’t have to be the first one we try.”

“Wait, what else can two swappers do?”

“Do you want me to tell you about all the other swap powers or can I jump right to the one I really want to try?”

"HOW MANY MORE ARE THERE?!?"

"Let's start with this one, third party possession. Or I like to call it-- a person puppet. Basically one of us can take over someone body without leaving the one we are in habiting. It's like two bodies at once."

"Does that person know that you or I have taken over their body?"

"No... I have read this one over a couple of times now. Basically they will be in a unaware state while one of us are in control."

"Okay, I guess that one sounds less chaotic. Who should we try it on?"

I thought about it for a minute and then I had someone in mind. I peaked out at the window to see if my neighbor was home.

"I got someone who could work," I say with a mischievous grin.

“Who?”

“My neighbor Reid, you’ll like him or at least his body lol.”

“Wait am I going to possess him?!?”

“Yeah, I think you’ll like it.”

“Fuck, fine! Let’s do this!!”

I grab Billy’s or I guess my hands and say, “I want you to focus. Thinking about all of your powers almost like you’re about to swap with someone, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Now close your eyes and picture a part of yourself floating out of my body, not all of yourself… just a part.”

“Okay…”

“Can you see it?”

It takes a minute for Billy to focus but then I see our hands and they start glowing a bit.

“I can see it,” he says softly.

“Great, now picture that second half of you floating out the window to the house door.”

Billy’s closed eyes move shut.

“I’m in the neighbor’s house… I can see everything inside. Wait, I hear someone… sleeping… now I’m in his room. Holy shit! I can see him!!”

“Really?!? Now Billy this is what you’re going to do next, float into him. Doesn’t matter how you do it.”

Billy’s eyes spring open and he says, “I’m in him. I feel his body… it’s so strange Sam. I’m him and I’m me.”

“Well come on over lol!”

“Okay one sec.”

A few minutes later and our front door swings open. It’s my neighbor’s body.

“What’s up you sexy fellas!!”

I turn to Billy and then back at Reid’s body as they are both grinning cheek to cheek.

I watch as Billy coordinates Reid’s body over to a chair.

“Look at these muscles Sam!,” says Reid’s body

“Fuck this is so hot! I’m watching myself control him, it’s like I can do some kind of strange role play. Wait a minute!!”

Reid’s body tugs off his tank top and then his shoes and socks.

He stares down at the giant feet and says, “they’re big.”

I watch as he picks up foot and smells it. He rubs Reid face all over his massive foot.

“This is so wrong but I’m so turned on. You’re gonna either have to watch or join us.”

Billy still in my body walks over to the giant hunk and reaches into his shorts.

They say in unison, “that feels good.”

I was starting to get hard just watching both bodies interact. Billy started running my hands over Reid’s muscles.

He pulls off Reid shorts and underwear. His dick comes out and both of us marvel at the giant cock.

“Let’s take turns with it,” he says from Reid’s body. “Shit I meant to say that from your body!”

We both laugh and I say, “All good lol, bedroom?”

“Great idea! You fellas are gonna have fun with me aren’t you? Especially this giant cock!,” says Reid’s body standing up while shaking his dick.

“Yes sir,” I say to him.

Billy picks me up in Reid’s arms and carries me to my bed.

We all three climb in and Billy asks me, “could you tend Reid’s junk.”

“Sure!!”

I grab onto the massive dick girthy dick. It’s surprising to see just how big it is.

“Are you gonna just stare it or suck it?,” says Reid’s body.

I turn to Billy down by Reid’s feet. He’s giggling and says, “sorry, I have two hard dick right now!”

I try to take as much of Reid’s I could fit in my mouth. It’s just so big. I get the entire thing wet and use a hand to work the shaft and his big hairy balls.

Billy on the other hand pulls off my pants and begins using Reid’s feet for a foot job.

Both of them moan in unison and say, “FUCK! You have no idea how amazing this feels!!”

I pump Reid’s dick faster and faster…

Both of them moan louder and louder….

Billy in my body reaches up under his ass cheeks and fondles his my body’s cock for me.

“LET ME FINISH IN MY MOUTH PLEASE SAM!,” he screams out.

I’m forcing Billy’s throat down on Reid’s dick.

Both of them scream out, “FUCKKKKKKKK!!!!”

That’s when rounds of cum squirt down my throat. It fills my throat and I can’t take anymore.

I look down at Reid’s dick and it’s still pouring more and more out.

Billy in my body cums all over Reid’s feet both of them grinning.

I fall back on the bed and both my body and Reid’s body with Billy still in control use themselves to give me every inch of pleasure.

Billy in my body climbs to my face and start making out. He twist’s his actual body’s sensitive nipples. Meanwhile Reid’s body sucking me off and tickling Billy body’s ballsack.

I can’t only take so much before I blew my load into Reid’s mouth…

All three or two… I don’t know… we just lay back cuddled up.

I turn to Billy in my body and say, “That was amazing.”

Billy grins and says, “we are definitely going to try this again!”

[coolemmasulivan2]

A Beautiful Mess | 1

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Two neighbors who can’t stand each other, until an accidental kiss changes everything.

Word count: 2846

But close ain't close enough 'Till we cross the line So name a game to play And I'll roll the dice, hey

You and Lando Norris had a problem with each other. There was no denying it. Something about the other person made your skin prickle with irritation, like an itch you couldn't scratch.

You were a Monegasque kindergarten teacher, a job that suited you perfectly. You adored kids. Their joy and innocence made your life simpler.

Monaco had always been your sanctuary: peaceful, elegant, yours. But that changed the moment Lando moved in next door a few years back.

You got along with everyone. It was just who you were. Friendly, patient, easygoing. But him? He was the exception. Loud, cocky, and an absolute menace of a neighbor. Even if he spent most of the year traveling, when he was home, he made sure you knew. The roaring engines, the late-night laughter, the endless stream of people coming and going. It was chaos wrapped in luxury.

He could've lived anywhere. He had the money. But somehow, out of all the places in Monaco, he chose your building.

"I guess Lando's back?" Your sister said, raising an eyebrow as loud music blasted from the apartment next door.

You let out a deep sigh, chopping vegetables with more force than necessary. "He's been back for a while… unfortunately."

A smirk tugged at her lips. "Let me guess, he did something already?"

"Oh, just parked in my spot today. Again." You shot her an exasperated look before slamming the knife against the cutting board. "Someday I'll kill him. I swear."

She chuckled. "Maybe he's running out of places to park his collection."

"I don't care!" You huffed. "He's a billionaire, he can buy a garage. Or better yet, move to a bigger place and stop being my problem."

"You know he does all of this just to piss you off, right?" Your sister said as she sat at the dining table, watching you set down the salad. "You should just ignore him."

"I know!" You groaned, sinking into the chair across from her. "But I can't. He's impossible to ignore. He knows exactly how to push my buttons."

Lando and Max were deep into a racing simulator session, music blasting through the apartment as they waited for their food to be ready.

It was Max's turn on the sim, but the pounding music was messing with his concentration. "Dude, the music... turn it down." He grumbled, eyes locked on the screen.

Lando barely glanced up from his phone. "Why?"

"Because I can't focus! It's too damn loud." Max tried to keep his attention on the race. "Someone's going to complaine about the noise." Then a thought struck him. He paused the race and shot Lando a knowing look. "Wait a second… You want this, don't you?"

Lando shrugged. "No idea what you're talking about."

Max scoffed. "Bullshit. You're trying to piss her off. You want her to came here. That's why the music's so loud. What's your problem with her?"

Lando smirked, eyes flicking back to his phone. "It's fun watching her all worked up."

Max shook his head, half amused, half exasperated. "You know, she's actually really nice."

Lando snorted. "To you and everyone else. Not to me."

"Yeah, because you're an asshole."

Lando finally dropped his phone onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. "She's been like that since day one. She started it."

"And instead of finding out why, you just decided to make things worse." Max said, shaking his head. "Classic you!"

Before Lando could fire back, a knock on the door echoed through the apartment.

His smirk widened. "Told you, she can't stay away." He pushed up from his seat, heading for the door.

Max groaned, calling after him, "Dude, be nice, please!"

You bit your nails, pacing as you waited for Lando to answer his door. Normally, you were a calm and patient person. But Lando Norris had a talent for bringing out the absolute worst in you. And the worst part? He enjoyed it. You knew he did.

Inside your apartment you heard the door finally open.

"Hi!" Your sister's voice rang out, soft and sweet, just like she always was. Unlike you, she had never raised her voice in frustration, not even to assholes like Lando.

"Oh, hi!" Lando's voice dripped with warmth, and you immediately rolled your eyes. Of course, he could turn on the charm when he wanted to.

"Sorry to bother you…"

"No problem!" He said. You nearly gagged.

"Could you turn the music down a little?" Your sister asked politely.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry about that, I didn't even realize it was that loud. Really, I'm so sorry."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor.

You had stood at his door countless times, asking the same thing, and every single time, he would gave you a cocky remark, or worst of all, he'd turned the music up louder just to spite you. But with your sister? He was suddenly the picture of politeness.

You were seconds away from storming out of your apartment to tell him exactly what you thought of his two-faced behavior, but your sister's voice stopped you.

"I appreciate it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight!" Lando replied smoothly. You let out a deep breath, leaning your head against the wall in frustration. Your sister had just started pushing the door open when Lando added: "Oh, and say hi to your sister for me."

That was it. You clenched your fists, shoving past your sister, ready to wipe that smug grin off his face, but before you could get a single word out, his door clicked shut.

"I hate him so much."

From the other side of the door, Lando grinned like an idiot, watching you through the peephole as you stomped away in frustration.

"There's just something special about pissing her off." He mused, clearly enjoying himself.

Max, standing behind him with his arms crossed, let out a sigh. "You're an idiot."

Two days had passed since your sister left for Rome, where she lived with her boyfriend. You were alone again, not that it bothered you. Your parents still lived in Monaco, in the house you grew up in, and you saw them almost every day.

One of the things you loved most about Monaco was being so close to the ocean. Every morning, as soon as you opened your bedroom window, you would close your eyes and breathe it in—the salty air, the gentle breeze, the familiar scent that made you feel at home. It was the perfect way to start the day, making your morning run that much easier.

Like always, before heading to work, you laced up your shoes and stepped outside. Today was no exception.

You had been running for a while, sweat clinging to your skin as your breath fell into a steady rhythm. The music playing softly in your ears didn't drown out the sounds of the city.

Lost in thought, you instinctively turned toward your building, crossing the road without a second glance.

The loud sound of tires screeching against the asphalt snapped you out of your trance. A rush of air whooshed past as a sleek car came to a sudden stop just inches from you. Your heart leaped into your throat, your body reacting before your mind caught up. You stumbled back and before you could stop yourself, you were on the ground.

The driver's side door swung open, and before you even looked up, you knew exactly who it was.

Lando stepped out, his expression a mix of worry and frustration, but before he could speak, you were already pushing yourself to your feet, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

"Are you insane?" You snapped, ripping your airpods out. "You almost ran me over!"

His brows shot up. "Me? You're the one who ran straight into the road without looking!"

You opened your mouth to argue, but the truth of his words sank in. Still, there was no way you were letting him win this. "Maybe if you weren't driving like a lunatic--"

Lando scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Driving like a lunatic? I was literally pulling out of the garage."

You huffed, brushing the dirt off your leggings. "What if it was a kid crossing instead of me?"

"Then I would've stopped, just like I did now." He shot back. "But you... You didn't even look before stepping onto the road! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I wouldn't have to worry about being flattened by my obnoxious neighbor before eight in the morning!"

Lando shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're unbelievable."

"You're infuriating."

"You're dramatic."

"You're--"

"Y/n?" A new voice cut through the tension, making both of you turn. Standing a few feet away was your kindergarten director. Dressed in his usual grey suit, he raised an eyebrow at the two of you. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

You cleared your throat, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this must have looked, standing in the middle of the street, flustered, sweaty, and arguing with a F1 driver.

"Yes, everything's fine!" You said quickly, forcing a polite smile.

Monsieur Bernard nodded, then glanced at Lando. "I didn't realize you knew such a famous driver, Y/n!" He stretched his hand and Lando shook it.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "We're just neighbors."

Lando grinned. "Very close neighbors."

You shot him a glare, but before you could say anything, Monsieur Bernard continued. "You know, our little ones love racing. It would be wonderful if you could visit the school sometime, talk to the kids about it."

"Oh!" You forced a polite chuckle. "I'm sure Lando is far too busy. I wouldn't want to take up his time."

Lando, to your absolute horror, shrugged. "Actually, I think it's a great idea." You snapped your head toward him, eyes wide. "Yeah, why not? I've got some time before the season starts again. I'd love to come by."

Monsieur Bernard smiled. "That's wonderful! Y/n, can you please set everything up?" You smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Norris. It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise." As Monsieur Bernard walked away, you groaned, rubbing your temples. Lando chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. "See? I can be a good neighbor."

You exhaled sharply, turning on your heel toward your building. "I hope the kids throw paint at you."

Lando chuckled, watching you storm off, clearly frustrated with how the day had started. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary and not even he could deny that your ass looked good on those leggings.

"Stop it, Lando!" He muttered to himself, shaking his head as if it would physically shake the thoughts away. "Don't go there."

With a deep breath, he slid back into his car, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. Without another glance at the building, he drove off.

You lay in bed, scrolling through your phone, hoping to lull yourself to sleep. The soft glow of the screen was the only light in the room, your thumb moving lazily over the screen, until something in your feed made you pause.

Your eyes narrowed as you clicked on the reel. A fan edit of your annoying neighbor filled your screen, all set to a song that did nothing to make him look innocent. Quite the opposite.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes locked on the video as if trapped in some kind of trance. The way he carried himself, the confidence, the effortless charm-- No. Absolutely not.

The reel restarted, snapping you out of whatever trance had just taken over you. With a horrified gasp, you jolted upright, tossing your phone onto the bed like it had burned you.

"Ugh-- no. What the hell?" You threw a pillow at your phone, like the device was alive. "Even on my phone?" You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

This man was infiltrating every corner of your life. And you hated it.

The day had arrived.

The kids had been buzzing with excitement all week, their energy doubling ever since they learned that Lando Norris was coming to visit. It didn't matter that half of them were too young to understand F1, but the mere idea of someone fast and famous coming to their school had them bouncing off the walls. You, on the other hand, were bracing yourself for chaos.

You had done your best to keep the kids calm, but by the time the morning rolled around, they were practically vibrating with anticipation. What car does he drive? Will he let us race? Can he do drive in the playground?

And then, Lando arrived. Dressed in his McLaren clothes, sunglasses and wearing that signature smile.

The kids lost their minds. "Landoooooo!" The group rushed toward him, bombarding him with questions before he could even say a word.

"Whoa, whoa, one at a time!" Lando laughed, crouching down to be at their level.

You stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching as he handled the chaos with surprising ease.

"Can you drive faster than Batman?"

"Can we race you?"

"Do you get scared when you go super fast?"

Lando hesitated for a second, then grinned. "Sometimes! But that's what makes it exciting."

You rolled your eyes. Still, you couldn't deny that the kids adored him. They hung onto their seats, eyes wide with fascination as he described what it felt like to race at over 300 km/h, how he trained, and even how he sometimes got nervous before big races.

Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, you realized that Lando was actually good at this. He had their full attention, something you usually had to work twice as hard for.

And then, as if sensing your thoughts, he caught your eye from across the room and winked, making you gag.

Unfortunately for Lando, someone else caught the moment.

A little girl sitting nearby tilted her head curiously, her big eyes flicking between the two of you. "Is Miss Y/n your girlfriend?" She asked innocently.

Lando, who had just taken a sip of water, immediately started coughing. He nearly choked, hand flying to his chest as he struggled to recover. "What?"

You, on the other hand, wanted the earth to swallow you whole. The rest of the kids, now very interested, turned toward you both with excited expressions.

"Is that why you're here?" Another girl asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Do you live together?" A boy asked before Lando could even recover from the first question.

Lando, still slightly choking, looked horrified.

"Nope!" You cut in quickly, clapping your hands together in a desperate attempt to redirect the conversation. "Who wants to show Lando their artwork?"

A chorus of Me! Me! Me! erupted, and just like that, the kids forgot all about their matchmaking attempts, eagerly rushing to grab their drawings.

You let out a slow breath, glancing at Lando, who was still lightly hitting his chest.

"What the hell just happened?" He asked, his voice still uneven.

You crossing your arms. "They're kids, Lando! If you wink at their teacher, this is what you get."

"A vision of a nightmare?"

You shot him a glare. "Asshole!"

He smirked. "Such a dirty mouth for a kindergarten teacher."

Your jaw clenched. You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as sweet as honey. "And yet, still more mature than a F1 driver."

Lando grinned, leaning in just a little. "Debatable."

Before you could walk away from Lando, chaos erupted.

"Me first!"

"No, me!"

Two of the kids appeared out of nowhere, each clutching their artwork, too focused on their battle to notice where they were going. Straight into you.

You barely had time to react before they crashed into your legs, making you lose balance.

"Oh--"

Lando was sat in a chair right in front of you, and before you could steady yourself, you stumbled forward and fell right into him.

His hands instinctively came up to catch you, but it was too late. Your lips brushed against his. It was barely a touch, but enough to make the world stop.

The kids were still yelling, the classroom still buzzing with energy, completely unaware of what had just happened, but all you could register was the way your lips were still touching.

You quickly pulled back, eyes wide, heart racing. Lando blinked up at you, looking just as stunned, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

You straightened, feeling warmth creeping up your neck,

"This is my drawing." One of the kids said, tugging at Lando's sleeve. "It's a boat and this is my dad."

That snapped Lando out of it. He cleared his throat and looked away from you. "Wow, that's amazing! You're so talented."

You turned away quickly, your pulse still hammering as you focused on the children, pretending like nothing had happened.

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, still looking anywhere but at you.

For once, there were no smirks, no teasing, just the feeling that something between you had just shifted.

[revelboo]

Could we maybe get some more IDW Ratchet please? 🥺🙏

Sure!

Feel Like Rain Pt 5

IDW Ratchet x Reader

• “Height okay?” He asks, hands out but not touching you, just hovering close by. Ready to catch you if you fall as his spark constricts watching you lean your weight on the makeshift crutch Wheeljack had fashioned for you at his request. Take a wobbly step. With your other arm also hurt, you can only use one for now and you offer him a tired smile before your jaw grits and you manage another slow, awkward step.

• You’ve barely hobbled three steps and you’re already shaking, sweat beading on your skin as your body screams at you to stop. The leg won’t take your weight at all, yet. Probably needs a cast. “Yeah. It’s good.” And there’s your stomach, pain sliding into the threat to throw up if you don’t take it easy. “Think I overdid it.” And those gentle hands cup you, easing you carefully down among the nest of blankets he’s made you. “Thanks.”

• “There’s no need to push yourself,” he mutters gruffly as you just slump backwards in your nest and taking a deep, shuddering breath. Understands, though. If it was him, he’d be trying to get up and about. There’s always so much to do and he doesn’t have the time to take care of himself and everyone else. Watches your breathing even out as you swallow convulsively, eyes shut. Venting, he reaches to flip your hair away from your face and you catch his servo with your good hand.

• “I’m a terrible patient, huh?” Amused as he just freezes at your touch, you guess you’d be a little freaked out about a teeny, little injured person under your care, too. Someone small enough you could pick them up in one hand. “I know you have other stuff to do besides worry over me,” you add, letting your hand slide off of his servo. You’ve been watching him, the way he’s always in motion like he can’t stop. And the times he does, his servos faintly tremble. He’s told you little bits and pieces. That his people are at war. That they crash landed here and are in hiding now. And that they need to remain secret.

• Rumbling softly, he wets a cloth and pinches it between his servos, dabbing at your forehead as you look up at him. “It’s quiet right now,” he growls. “As long as Wheeljack doesn’t blow himself up, I don’t have anything more pressing to tend to.” And it’s guilt making him dote on you, because he should have entrusted your care to your own kind, but he’d found you. Pulled you broken and bleeding from the wreck and if he took you in, he’d never have known if you’d survived. Your life would have been out of his hands and maybe, the human medics would have fought for you. Saved you and took care of you, but you’d needed him and he hadn’t been able to just give you to someone else and hope for the best.

Previous

[empressdede]

The Secretary - 2

Chapter two

Previous

The next day, Roman sat in a private lounge in WWE’s headquarters, a cup of coffee in his hand, but he hadn’t taken a single sip. His mind was somewhere else - someone else.

"Yo, Uce, you good?" Jey’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Roman glanced up to see both Jey and Jimmy watching him with raised eyebrows.

"You been sittin’ there quiet for the last ten minutes," Jimmy added, nudging him with an elbow. "What’s up?"

Roman exhaled, running a hand over his beard. He wasn’t the type to talk about this stuff, but if there was anyone he could trust, it was his cousins.

"I almost kissed Serena last night."

Both Usos went silent for about two seconds before Jimmy let out a sharp "Damn." Jey, meanwhile, smirked like he’d just won a bet.

"Knew it," Jey said, shaking his head. "I knew something was up with you two."

"Ain’t nothin’ up," Roman muttered, staring down at his coffee. "It didn’t happen."

Jimmy leaned forward. "So why didn’t it?"

Roman clenched his jaw, replaying the moment in his head. The way Serena had looked at him, the way she’d almost leaned in, and then - the way she’d stepped back, leaving like it never happened.

"She stopped it," he admitted. "Said she had to go."

Jey let out a low whistle. "Damn, Uce. She shut you down?"

Jimmy chuckled. "That’s a first."

Roman shot them both a look, and they sobered up real quick.

"Look, man," Jimmy said, leaning back. "You’re the boss. You think she’s just scared of losing her job?"

Roman shook his head. "Nah, it’s more than that. She’s…different."

Jey and Jimmy exchanged a glance.

"Different how?" Jey asked.

Roman sighed, setting his coffee down. "She’s not like everyone else around here. She’s not trying to impress me or get something from me. She just does her job; better than anyone else. She knows what I need before I even ask. Hell, she keeps my schedule tighter than Heyman does."

Jimmy grinned. "Sounds like wifey material."

Roman shot him another look, but this time, Jimmy didn’t back down.

"I’m just sayin’ Uce. If she’s got you all in your feelings, maybe you should figure out what you really want."

Roman exhaled, rubbing his face. That was the problem - he did know what he wanted.

But he also knew Serena wouldn’t cross that line. And maybe she was right. Maybe he was the one making a mistake even thinking about it.

Jey, ever the instigator, leaned in with a smirk. "So what you gonna do, Chief?"

Roman didn’t answer right away. He didn’t know.

But one thing was certain; Serena wasn’t just another secretary. And after last night, there was no way things were going back to normal.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Serena kept her head down all morning, focusing on her work as if her life depended on it. After last night, the only thing she could do was act like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t almost made the biggest mistake of her career.

She had no idea where she stood with Roman now. Would he act differently? Would he fire her?

Her heart pounded as she gathered her tablet and notes, heading toward his office for their daily briefing. She inhaled sharply before knocking.

"Come in."

His voice was as calm as ever, but when she stepped inside, she immediately noticed the way his eyes flickered to her - just for a second, just enough to make her breath hitch.

"Good morning, Mr. Reigns," she said, keeping her voice steady.

Roman leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Morning, Serena."

Okay. So far, so good.

She cleared her throat, forcing herself into professional mode. "You have a meeting with Triple H at eleven, media interviews at two, and a production meeting before SmackDown. I’ve already pushed back the sponsorship call to next week."

He nodded. "Good. What about the travel schedule?"

"Finalized. Flights are booked, hotels confirmed. Everything’s in your itinerary."

Roman was silent for a beat, his fingers tapping the desk. "You always handle things before I even think to ask."

Serena glanced up, surprised by the warmth in his tone. "It’s my job."

His gaze held hers a little too long. "Yeah. It is."

A tension settled between them, the air thick with everything they weren’t saying.

Serena shifted on her feet. She needed to get out of there before last night repeated itself. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll-"

"Serena."

She stopped. His voice was softer now. She didn’t dare turn back, but she felt his presence behind her; closer than before.

"About last night…" His tone was careful, hesitant, like he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say.

Her hands clenched at her sides. Don’t do this, Roman.

She forced a smile, turning back slightly. "Nothing happened, sir."

His jaw tensed at the way she called him sir. He knew exactly what she was doing.

"Serena…"

"I should get back to work," she cut in quickly. "You have a busy day."

Roman’s expression darkened, but he didn’t stop her.

She left before he could say anything else, closing the door behind her with careful precision.

Once she was out in the hallway, she let out the breath she’d been holding.

Nothing happened. She had to keep reminding herself.

But the way Roman looked at her as she walked away?

She knew…this wasn’t over.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[thequeenofneverland1]

Minho Moon////Love in the Little Things

Anonymous request: hey can you a angst but a happy ending of Minho from xo kitty pls thank you

Warnings: fluff, humor, Romantic themes, lighthearted drama and mild jealousy

You’ve had a crush on Minho for as long as you can remember. He’s charming, funny, and always lights up the room when he walks in. But there’s just one problem. he only has eyes for Kitty. No matter how hard you try to get his attention, it’s clear that his heart belongs to someone else.

At first, you tried to ignore the ache in your chest every time you saw them together. You told yourself that maybe, just maybe, he would notice you one day. But as time passed, it became painfully obvious that Minho would never see you the way you saw him. And that realization shattered you.

You spent weeks sulking, avoiding him in the hallways, and dodging any conversation that involved his name. Your friends told you to move on, but how could you? He was Minho the one who made your heart race with just a smile.

Then, everything changed.

A new student transferred to your school Lee Joon. The moment he stepped into the classroom, he caught everyone’s attention. Tall, effortlessly cool, and with a confidence that made people gravitate toward him, he was impossible to ignore. But what surprised you the most was that, out of all the people he could have talked to, he chose you.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he was just being nice. But the way he looked at you, the way he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, made your heart do something it hadn’t done in a long time it fluttered.

Days turned into weeks, and Lee Joon became a constant presence in your life. He made you laugh when you thought you’d forgotten how. He noticed the little things about you how you always tapped your pen when you were nervous or how your favorite subject was literature because you loved stories that made you feel something.

And one day, as you were walking together after school, he stopped and looked at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“You know,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “I think Minho was an idiot for not seeing you.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

For the first time in a long while, Minho didn’t seem to matter anymore. Maybe, just maybe, you were finally ready to move on. And with Lee Joon by your side, it didn’t seem so impossible.

It was a perfect afternoon warm sunlight streaming through the trees as you and Lee Joon sat on a bench near the school courtyard. You were laughing at something he said, a joke that wasn’t even that funny, but for some reason, everything seemed lighter around him. You didn’t feel the weight of unrequited love pressing on your chest anymore. With Lee Joon, it was easy, effortless.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you barely noticed, too caught up in the moment. You ignored it the first time. Then, it buzzed again. And again.

Lee Joon glanced at you. “Someone’s persistent.”

You pulled out your phone and glanced at the screen. Minho.

For a brief second, something in your chest tightened, but you quickly shook it off. What could he possibly want? Maybe he needed something, but whatever it was, it wasn’t urgent enough for you to pull away from this moment.

Without hesitation, you silenced the call and slipped the phone back into your pocket.

Lee Joon raised an eyebrow, amused. “Not gonna answer?”

You shrugged. “Not important.”

He smirked, leaning back against the bench. “Well, then, more of your attention for me.”

You laughed, pushing Minho further from your mind.

Little did you know, you had forgotten something important plans you made with Minho days ago.

Minho sat at the café, checking his phone every few minutes, frustration slowly turning into disappointment. You were supposed to meet him here. He even got there early, ordering your favorite drink just the way you liked it. But the minutes ticked by, and there was no sign of you.

At first, he thought maybe you were running late. Then, after the third unanswered call, he started to wonder.

Had you forgotten?

The thought made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t quite understand. You always showed up when he needed you, always answered his calls, always made time for him. But today… you didn’t.

His fingers tightened around his phone as he stared at your last message, confirming the plans. He had been so sure you’d come.

So why did it feel like, for the first time, he wasn’t the one you were waiting around for?

Minho sighed, tapping his fingers against the table as he stared at his phone screen. The message was still unread.

Minho: Hey, where are you? (Delivered, no response.)

He waited, watching the little “delivered” notification sit there, unmoving. Maybe you were just busy. Maybe your phone was on silent. Maybe—

No.

Something felt different.

Minho wasn’t used to waiting on you. If anything, you were always the one waiting for him waiting for his texts, his calls, his time. And now, for the first time, the roles were reversed. And he hated it.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair, gripping the iced coffee he had ordered for you now watered down from sitting too long. He should be annoyed. Maybe even a little angry. But the uneasy feeling in his chest wasn’t anger. It was something else.

He tried again.

Minho: Did you forget?

Still no response.

He stared at the message for a moment before locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket. His jaw clenched as he glanced around the café, realizing that people were starting to stare at the guy sitting alone with two drinks.

It wasn’t like you to ghost him. Sure, maybe you were busy, but you would have at least texted back, right?

Unless… you really had forgotten.

Minho couldn’t take it anymore. The café, once filled with comforting warmth and the hum of conversation, now felt suffocating. He had been sitting there for nearly an hour, his untouched drink melting into a watered-down mess. You weren’t coming. And you weren’t answering.

Shoving his chair back, he stood up abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stormed out. His mind raced with thoughts, each one more frustrating than the last. Were you ignoring him on purpose? Had something happened? Or… were you just with someone else?

That thought made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t like.

As he walked down the sidewalk, his eyes were locked on his phone, waiting for any sign of a response. He wasn’t even paying attention to where he was going until—

Thud.

He bumped into someone, nearly making them drop the books in their arms.

“Oh—Minho?”

He looked up, recognizing the familiar face immediately. “Kitty.”

She adjusted her books, giving him a curious look. “What’s up? You look kind of… stressed.”

Minho exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I was supposed to meet Y/N, but she never showed up. She’s not answering my calls or texts either.”

Kitty raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s weird.”

“Right?” Minho huffed. “I don’t get it. She’s never just… ignored me before.”

Kitty studied him for a second before casually saying, “Well, I literally just saw her.”

Minho’s head snapped up. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Kitty said, shifting her books to one arm. “She was with Lee Joon.”

The name hit Minho like a brick to the chest.

Lee Joon.

That new transfer student. The one who had suddenly appeared and, apparently, had stolen all of your attention.

Kitty must have noticed the shift in his expression because she tilted her head. “Why? Something wrong?”

Minho’s jaw clenched. He didn’t know what to say. Of course something was wrong. You were supposed to be with him today, not Lee Joon. You were supposed to answer his calls, not ignore them for someone else.

But why did it even matter so much? Why was he suddenly so bothered by the idea of you with someone else?

He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to stay even. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”

But as he turned away, he knew that was a lie. Something was definitely wrong. And for the first time, Minho wasn’t sure he liked the way it felt.

Minho lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying everything over and over again. The unanswered texts, the forgotten plans, Kitty’s words—“She was with Lee Joon.”

It didn’t make sense. You weren’t the type to flake on him, especially not without saying anything. And yet, here he was laying alone in his room when he was supposed to be…

The diner was bustling with the hum of conversations and the clinking of silverware against plates. Neon lights flickered outside the window, casting a soft glow over your booth. Minho sat across from you, Kitty next to him, but your attention was entirely elsewhere on Lee Joon, who sat beside you, smiling warmly as he slid a milkshake between the two of you.

"Two straws, one milkshake," Lee Joon teased with a playful grin. "Very old-school romance, don’t you think?"

You laughed, leaning closer to sip from your straw. "I think it’s perfect," you said, eyes sparkling as you met his gaze.

Minho's chest tightened as he watched the exchange, his words faltering mid-sentence. He had been talking about some random story from school, trying to keep the mood light, but it was clear you weren’t listening. Not even a little.

Kitty, sitting beside him, noticed the way his jaw clenched and the flicker of hurt in his eyes. She nudged him lightly with her elbow. "You okay?" she whispered.

Minho forced a tight smile. "Yeah. Totally fine."

But he wasn’t fine. Not even close.

He tried to ignore the way your laugh filled the space between you and Lee Joon, the way you leaned into him as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was like he was invisible reduced to just another background character in a scene where you and Lee Joon were the main act.

"So, Y/n," Minho said, trying to cut through the tension gnawing at his chest, "did you finish that project for science class?"

You glanced at him briefly, a polite smile on your lips. "Oh, yeah. Lee Joon helped me with it. He’s really good at that stuff."

Lee Joon chuckled modestly. "It wasn’t a big deal. Y/n did most of the work."

Minho's stomach churned. He used to be the one you came to for help with assignments, the one who made you laugh over ridiculous study sessions. Now, it was Lee Joon in that role, effortlessly slipping into a space that had always been Minho's.

"Cool," Minho said flatly, stirring his untouched drink.

Kitty shot him a sympathetic glance, but Minho couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he watched as you leaned closer to Lee Joon, your conversation flowing effortlessly. The two of you were in your own world, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside Minho.

"Hey," Lee Joon said, his voice warm, "you’ve got whipped cream on your nose."

You laughed, wiping it away with the back of your hand. "Classic me."

"You’re adorable," Lee Joon said softly, and your cheeks flushed at the compliment.

Minho's grip tightened around his glass, his heart pounding with a mixture of jealousy and hurt. He didn’t want to feel this way, but seeing you with someone else so happy, so carefree was like a punch to the gut.

Kitty cleared her throat, trying to break the awkwardness. "So, uh, Minho, you were saying something about that crazy teacher?"

Minho forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to his own ears. "Yeah, doesn’t matter," he muttered, his appetite gone.

As the evening dragged on, Minho sat there, watching the girl he had always thought of as his—his best friend, his constant slip further away, lost in someone else’s orbit. And for the first time, he wondered if it was already too late to pull you back.

Minho had always been the kind of person who carried himself with confidence. He was loud when he wanted to be, always cracking jokes, always had a smirk on his face like nothing in the world could bother him.

But lately, something had changed.

And his parents noticed.

It started with little things. He barely touched his food at dinner, pushing it around on his plate instead of eating. He wasn’t complaining about his mom’s overly healthy meals like he usually did. He didn’t argue with his dad over what to watch on TV. He wasn’t even making sarcastic remarks about his mom’s drama shows, something he usually did just to get a reaction.

Instead, he just… sat there. Quiet. Lost in thought.

Then, he stopped staying out late.

Minho was always out with his friends, always coming home late with some new story to tell. But now? He was coming straight home from school, shutting himself in his room, barely saying a word.

His mom noticed first.

One evening, as she was setting the table for dinner, she glanced over at him, watching as he scrolled through his phone, a deep frown etched onto his face. He wasn’t even really looking at the screen just staring at it, lost in whatever thoughts were eating away at him.

She set the last plate down and sighed. “Minho.”

He barely reacted. “Hmm?”

His mom crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “What’s going on with you?”

That got his attention. He looked up, eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

“You’ve been acting… off,” she said, tilting her head. “You’re quiet, you barely eat, you don’t go out as much. It’s like you’re not even you lately.”

Minho scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m fine.”

His dad, who had been reading the newspaper, finally looked up. “You don’t look fine.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “I didn’t realize I had to put on a performance at home.”

His mom sighed, walking over to sit beside him. Her voice softened. “Minho, we’re just worried about you. Did something happen?”

Minho’s jaw tightened. He wanted to brush it off, to say something sarcastic, to make a joke and move on. That’s what he always did.

But for some reason, the words wouldn’t come out.

Because, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to say.

What was he supposed to tell them? That he had been too blind to realize he was losing someone important? That he had spent so long believing you would always be there, only to realize that maybe, just maybe, you were slipping away?

That he had never considered what it would feel like to lose you until now?

Minho swallowed hard and forced a smirk. “I’m fine, Mom. Seriously. Just tired.”

His mom didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she just patted his arm before standing up.

“Okay,” she said simply. “But if you ever want to talk about it, we’re here.”

Minho just nodded, offering her a small, forced smile.

But as he sat there, poking at the food on his plate, he couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest.

Because deep down, he knew the truth.

He wasn’t fine. Not even close.

Later that night, Minho lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, the glow of his phone screen casting a dim light across his face. He wasn’t even doing anything just mindlessly scrolling, opening and closing the same apps, checking messages he had no intention of responding to.

Still no text from you.

Not that he was waiting or anything.

He let out a slow breath, tossing his phone onto the nightstand before draping an arm over his eyes. His mind was a mess thoughts tangled up in frustration, confusion, and something else he didn’t want to name.

A soft knock at his door made him sigh. “Mom, I already told you—”

“It’s not your mom.”

Minho sat up slightly as his dad pushed the door open, stepping inside. His dad wasn’t the kind of guy who barged into his room often. Usually, he let Minho do his own thing, never prying too much.

Which meant that if he was here now, it was serious.

His dad glanced around the room before settling his gaze on Minho. “You didn’t finish dinner.”

Minho shrugged. “Wasn’t hungry.”

His dad hummed, shutting the door behind him as he walked over and took a seat on the chair by the desk. “Your mom thinks something’s wrong.”

Minho huffed, flopping back against his pillows. “Mom always thinks something’s wrong.”

His dad chuckled. “Yeah, well… this time, I think she might be right.”

Minho’s fingers curled around the blanket. He could feel his dad’s eyes on him, waiting for him to say something. To admit something.

But he didn’t even know where to start.

His dad sighed, leaning forward slightly. “Listen… I know I’m not the guy you usually come to for this kind of stuff.”

Minho rolled onto his side, staring at the wall. “There’s nothing to come to you about.”

His dad didn’t respond right away. Instead, he just studied Minho for a long moment, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. Then, in a softer voice, he asked,

“Is it about a girl?”

Minho’s breath hitched.

He didn’t answer. But the way his shoulders tensed just for a second was enough of a confirmation.

His dad nodded slowly, like everything was suddenly making sense. “Ah.”

Minho groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It’s not—”

“You know,” his dad cut in, leaning back in the chair, “when I was your age, there was this girl I really liked.”

Minho peeked at him from the corner of his eye. “Is this where you tell me some long, dramatic love story about how you met Mom?”

His dad smirked. “No, actually. It wasn’t your mom.”

That got Minho’s attention. He turned fully to face him. “Wait. What?”

His dad chuckled. “Before I met your mom, there was someone else. She was my best friend. We did everything together. I thought we’d always be like that just us, against the world.”

Minho swallowed hard, his chest tightening.

“But then one day,” his dad continued, his voice softer now, “she started spending more time with someone else. And suddenly, I wasn’t the person she turned to anymore. I wasn’t the one making her laugh the hardest or sharing secrets late at night.”

Minho stayed quiet. He didn’t need to hear the rest of the story to know how it ended.

His dad sighed, rubbing his hands together. “I didn’t realize how much I cared about her until it was too late.” Then he looked at Minho, eyes steady. “Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

Minho’s throat felt tight.

Because suddenly, he wasn’t thinking about his dad’s story anymore.

He was thinking about you.

The way you used to wait for him after class. The way your eyes always lit up when he walked into a room. The way you used to choose him without hesitation, without a second thought.

And now?

Now you were looking at Lee Joon that way. you were sharing your time, your moments, your jokes with someone else.

And for the first time, Minho felt like he was standing on the outside of your world, looking in.

His dad patted his knee before standing up. “Think about it, kid.”

Then, just like that, he left, shutting the door behind him.

Minho sat there in silence, staring at the ceiling.

And for the first time, he allowed himself to admit the one thing he had been avoiding this whole time.

He didn’t just care about you.

He didn’t just see you as a friend.

He liked you.

And maybe just maybe he was too late.

The next morning, Minho barely said a word at breakfast. His mom was chatting about something on TV, and his dad was flipping through the newspaper, but Minho’s mind was somewhere else entirely.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what his dad had said last night.

“I didn’t realize how much I cared about her until it was too late. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

It kept replaying in his head, over and over, until he wanted to scream.

Was it too late for him? Had he already lost you?

He had spent so long pretending not to care, pushing down feelings he didn’t want to deal with. But now, it was all hitting him at once, and it was suffocating.

His leg bounced under the table as he stared at his plate, barely touching his food. He needed to do something. Say something. But where did he even start?

“Minho.”

He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts as he looked up. His dad was staring at him knowingly from across the table.

“Come with me,” his dad said, setting down the newspaper and pushing back his chair.

Minho frowned, confused, but stood up anyway. His mom barely glanced up from her show as his dad led him down the hall and into his office.

Once inside, his dad walked over to his desk, pulled open a drawer, and grabbed his wallet. He took out a few bills and held them out to Minho.

Minho stared at him. “Uh… what’s this?”

His dad gave him a pointed look. “Money.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Minho scoffed. “Why are you giving it to me?”

His dad sighed, placing the money in Minho’s hand before closing his fingers around it.

“Go buy some flowers. And chocolates. Or whatever it is girls like these days.”

Minho’s eyes widened. “What—”

His dad raised an eyebrow. “You want to win her back, don’t you?”

Minho hesitated, staring down at the money in his hand. He hadn’t even said anything about you, but somehow, his dad knew.

Did he really look that obvious?

“I…” Minho swallowed, shifting on his feet. “What if it doesn’t work?”

His dad gave him a small, knowing smile. “Then at least you’ll know you tried.”

Minho stared at him for a moment before sighing, stuffing the money into his pocket.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming you.”

His dad smirked. “That’s fair.”

With that, Minho turned on his heel and walked out of the office, his heart pounding harder than he wanted to admit.

Because for the first time, he wasn’t just thinking about his feelings.

He was about to do something about them.

Minho stood outside Kitty’s dorm, shifting from foot to foot as he debated whether knocking was a good idea. He wasn’t the type to ask for help, let alone from Kitty, who had an annoying habit of knowing things before he was even ready to admit them to himself.

But this? This was different.

This wasn’t something he could handle on his own.

He took a deep breath and knocked twice.

A few seconds later, the door swung open, revealing Kitty in her usual oversized hoodie and pajama shorts, her hair tied in a messy bun. She blinked up at him, clearly not expecting to see him standing there.

“Minho?” she said, tilting her head. “Are you lost?”

Minho rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not lost.”

Kitty leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. “Then why are you standing outside my room looking like you’re about to throw up?”

Minho groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Can I come in or not?”

Kitty narrowed her eyes, studying him for a moment before sighing and stepping aside. “Fine. But if this is about getting me to watch another one of your boring dramas, the answer is no.”

Minho ignored her and stepped inside, shoving his hands into his pockets. The room was a little messy clothes scattered on the bed, notebooks open on the desk but it was exactly what he expected from Kitty.

She plopped onto her bed, crossing her legs. “Okay, spill. What’s going on?”

Minho hesitated, looking at the floor. He wasn’t used to being this vulnerable, especially with Kitty, who would probably never let him live it down. But he was desperate, and if there was one person who knew how to fix things, it was her.

“I need your help,” he muttered.

Kitty’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me? Did Minho just say he needs my help?”

Minho groaned. “Do you want to help me or not?”

Kitty smirked, sitting up straighter. “Depends. What’s it about?”

Minho exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It’s about Y/N.”

At that, Kitty’s entire expression shifted. The teasing look faded, replaced by something more serious something that told him she already knew what this was about.

“What about Y/N?” she asked, her voice softer now.

Minho hesitated, but there was no point in pretending anymore.

“I…” He clenched his jaw before sighing. “I think I screwed up.”

Kitty hummed, as if she wasn’t even remotely surprised. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Minho shot her a glare. “Can you not?”

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Keep going.”

Minho shifted on his feet, suddenly feeling restless. “I don’t know when it happened, but… I like her.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, but once they were out, he couldn’t take them back. “And now she’s spending all her time with Lee Joon, and I feel like—” He exhaled sharply. “I feel like I lost her before I even got a chance.”

Kitty watched him carefully, nodding along. “So, what do you want to do about it?”

Minho pulled the money from his pocket, holding it up. “Dad told me to buy flowers and chocolates.”

Kitty snorted. “Classic.”

Minho glared at her. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

Kitty grinned. “Oh, I’m definitely helping. But if you’re gonna do this, you can’t half-ass it.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “I never half-ass anything.”

Kitty smirked. “Good. Because if we’re winning Y/N back, we’re going all out.”

Minho felt his stomach twist. This was really happening.

He was about to fight for you.

The sun was beginning to set over the park, casting a warm orange glow over the trees and pathways. A soft breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the faint scent of flowers in the air. It was the perfect setting for something romantic something grand.

At least, that’s what Kitty had convinced Minho.

He had spent the last hour carefully placing a trail of red roses along the park’s winding path, each one leading to the small bench where he was waiting. A box of expensive chocolates sat beside him, tied with a neat satin ribbon.

He was nervous, but he had convinced himself you would come. Kitty promised she would make sure of it.

So he waited.

And waited.

But as the minutes stretched on, his excitement slowly turned into doubt.

Then doubt turned into disappointment.

And disappointment turned into something heavier something he didn’t want to name.

He checked his phone. No messages. No calls.

His jaw clenched as he looked down at the chocolates in his lap. He had really let himself believe this would work. That maybe, if he just put in the effort, if he showed you how much he cared, you would see that he was still here. That he had always been here.

But you weren’t coming.

Maybe you had seen the roses and chosen to ignore them. Maybe you had better things to do maybe with Lee Joon.

Minho exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before standing up. He didn’t want to sit here like an idiot any longer.

Without another thought, he placed the chocolate box on the bench and turned away.

As he walked down the path, his hands stuffed into his pockets, he told himself he didn’t care.

He tried.

That was enough, right?

But just as he reached the park entrance, just as he was about to leave—

“Minho!”

His entire body froze.

For a second, he thought he had imagined it. That maybe his mind was playing tricks on him because he wanted to hear you say his name so badly.

But then—

“Minho, wait!”

He turned around.

And there you were.

You were breathless, your hair slightly messy from running, your eyes wide as you searched for him. In one hand, you clutched the chocolate box he had left behind.

Minho’s heart stuttered in his chest.

You came.

His feet moved before he could think, carrying him back toward you.

As soon as you saw him, relief washed over your face. “You—” You paused, trying to catch your breath. “You were leaving?”

Minho swallowed hard, trying to act indifferent, trying to ignore the way his pulse was racing. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

Your grip on the chocolate box tightened. “I was late. Kitty didn’t tell me why I needed to come here, just that I had to.” You exhaled, taking a step closer. “But when I saw the roses, I knew it was you.”

Minho blinked, caught off guard. “You knew?”

You nodded, smiling slightly. “Of course. It was dramatic and over-the-top. Who else could it be?”

Despite everything, a small chuckle escaped him. “Fair point.”

There was a beat of silence before you looked down at the chocolate box in your hands. “Were you really about to leave without this?”

Minho hesitated, then shrugged. “I figured you’d find it eventually.”

You bit your lip, studying him carefully. “Minho… what is all this?”

His heart pounded against his ribs. This was it.

The moment where he had to say it.

The moment where he had to be honest.

Minho inhaled deeply, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. Then, in a quiet but steady voice, he said—

“It’s you.”

You blinked. “What?”

Minho exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It’s always been you, Y/N. I know I messed up I know I took too long to realize it, but I like you. And not in the casual, best-friend-who-flirts-with-you way. I really like you.”

Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly in surprise.

Minho swallowed, forcing himself to keep going before he lost his nerve.

“I see the way you look at Lee Joon,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “And I hate it. Not because he’s a bad guy, but because… I wanted to be the one you looked at like that. I wanted to be the one who made you laugh, who got your attention, who you—” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m too late. Maybe I should’ve said something sooner. But I had to try.”

Silence.

The park suddenly felt too quiet, too still.

Minho’s chest tightened as he watched you, trying to read your expression. Were you angry? Were you happy? Did you think this was too much?

Then, after what felt like forever, you took a deep breath and whispered, “You’re an idiot.”

Minho’s heart sank.

Before he could respond, you shook your head, stepping even closer until he could feel the warmth of your presence.

“You’re an idiot,” you repeated, softer this time. “Because I waited for so long for you to say that.”

Minho’s breath hitched. “You… what?”

You smiled, reaching out to place the chocolate box back into his hands. “I like you too, Minho.”

His heart stopped.

For the first time in weeks, the weight in his chest lifted.

“You—” He let out a breathless laugh. “You do?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a fondness there. “Took you long enough to notice.”

Minho could barely process what was happening. The relief, the shock, the stupid grin tugging at his lips he felt like a complete idiot for not realizing it sooner.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “So… does this mean I don’t have to pretend I like Lee Joon anymore?”

You laughed, and the sound was his favorite thing in the world.

“No,” you teased, nudging his shoulder. “But maybe you can start making it up to me by sharing those chocolates.”

Minho smirked, his confidence returning. “Only if you share a milkshake with me after.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were still smiling.

The two of you made your way through the streets, the city lights casting a warm glow around you. The streets weren’t too crowded, but there was a comfortable buzz of life all around cars passing by, soft music playing from open shop doors, the occasional laughter of strangers.

And through it all, Minho never let go of your hand.

When you finally reached the small restaurant a cozy little place with checkered floors and booths that looked like they hadn’t changed since the ‘80s you felt a wave of nostalgia.

“You picked this place?” you asked, surprised.

Minho smirked. “Obviously. I have great taste.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re just saying that because they put a cherry on top of their milkshakes.”

He gasped, placing a hand over his chest. “How dare you expose me like that.”

Laughing, you let him pull you inside. The warmth of the restaurant immediately wrapped around you, a stark contrast to the cool night air outside.

A friendly-looking waitress greeted you both and led you to a booth by the window. Minho slid into one side, and instead of sitting across from him like a normal person, you scooted in beside him, close enough that your legs brushed under the table.

Minho blinked, momentarily thrown off. But then, a slow smirk stretched across his lips. “Oh?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged, leaning back against the seat like he wasn’t losing his mind over the fact that you were willingly sitting this close. “Just didn’t expect you to be so clingy.”

You scoffed, nudging him with your shoulder. “Shut up.”

Minho chuckled but didn’t push it. Instead, he picked up the menu and held it out to you. “Go ahead and pick. But if you don’t get chocolate, just know that I’ll be judging you.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you took the menu. “Noted.”

As the two of you sat there, your fingers still loosely intertwined under the table, Minho realized something.

For the first time in weeks, he wasn’t thinking about what he had lost.

He was thinking about what he had found.

The milkshake sat between you, two straws sticking out of the tall glass, condensation gathering on the sides. The diner’s neon lights cast a soft glow over your faces, reflecting in the window beside you. The place had a cozy hum of life soft music playing from the jukebox, the occasional clatter of dishes, and the quiet murmur of other customers.

But none of it mattered.

Because all Minho could focus on was you.

The way your lips curled around the straw as you took a sip, the way you absentmindedly played with the sleeves of his hoodie, the way your knee kept bumping against his under the table but you didn’t move away.

You caught him staring.

“What?” you asked, tilting your head.

Minho blinked, trying to play it cool, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Nothing.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Liar.”

He smirked. “Maybe I just like looking at you.”

Your cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink, and Minho’s smirk only grew.

But before you could come up with a response, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to something softer.

“You know,” he said, fingers brushing against yours on the table, “I didn’t think tonight would end like this.”

You raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “How did you think it would end?”

Minho exhaled a small laugh, shaking his head. “Not like this. Not with you wearing my hoodie. Not with you sitting so close I can barely think straight.”

You smiled, looking down for a second before glancing back up at him through your lashes. “Is that a bad thing?”

Minho swallowed, his heart doing something stupid in his chest.

“No,” he murmured. “Not at all.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The world outside continued moving cars passing by, people walking along the sidewalks but inside the small diner, time felt still.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it, Minho reached up, his fingers gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered for a second longer than necessary, and you didn’t pull away.

Instead, you leaned in.

His breath hitched, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. “Y/N…”

You tilted your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah?”

Minho hesitated, just for a second. Not because he didn’t want to he had wanted to kiss you for so long—but because this moment felt different. It wasn’t just some casual, fleeting thing.

It was you.

And that meant everything.

But when you gave him the smallest nod, silently telling him it was okay

He didn’t wait.

He closed the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, slowest kiss.

You tasted like chocolate and vanilla, sweet and warm, and Minho melted into it, one hand cupping your cheek while the other rested lightly on your waist.

You kissed him back without hesitation, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve, pulling him closer like you never wanted to let go.

And Minho?

He was already gone for you.

After finishing your milkshake, neither of you had wanted the night to end just yet. The warmth of your first kiss still lingered, making everything else feel softer more real. So when Minho suggested walking back to his place instead of calling a ride, you agreed without hesitation.

It wasn’t far, just a few blocks, and the walk was quiet, comfortable. His fingers never left yours, his grip firm but gentle, as if he was still trying to convince himself you were really here.

When you reached his house, he didn’t even hesitate to invite you inside. “It’s late,” he had said. “You can crash here if you want. I have extra blankets.”

You had teased him, saying, “You just wanted an excuse to keep me close,” and instead of denying it, he had simply smirked. “And?”

That’s how you found yourself now, lying on his bed, wrapped in the same hoodie he had given you earlier. At first, you had planned to stay up just talk, maybe watch something but somewhere in the middle of the quiet conversation, with the soft glow of his bedside lamp illuminating his face, sleep had crept up on both of you.

Now, the room was silent except for the steady sound of Minho’s breathing.

His arms were securely wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest like he had no intention of letting go. His face was relaxed, his usual sharp features softened by sleep. Every so often, his grip would tighten slightly, as if even in his dreams, he was making sure you were still there.

And you?

You had never felt safer.

You had never felt more at home than you did right now, tucked into Minho’s warmth, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

It was perfect.

Until—

The door creaked open.

Minho’s parents had planned on checking in on him, expecting to find their son in his usual dramatic sleeping position sprawled out on his bed, probably snoring.

What they didn’t expect was to see him curled up around you, his arms wrapped protectively around your frame, his face buried in your hair.

His mother blinked, momentarily speechless.

His father raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s new.”

Minho stirred slightly, mumbling something in his sleep before pulling you closer.

His mother, finally snapping out of her surprise, melted on the spot. “Oh my god,” she whispered, grinning. “Look at them.”

His dad sighed as he smiled. “ He finally got his girl.”

His mother smirked. “He sure did.”

She reached for her phone, quickly snapping a picture. “We’re saving this for later.”

His father chuckled. “Should we wake them?”

His mother gasped, horrified. “Are you insane?! Look how peaceful he is! Do you know how rare it is for Minho to not be complaining about something? We let them sleep.”

His dad held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

But before leaving, his mother glanced back at the two of you one more time, her heart swelling. She had never seen her son like this before so content, so soft.

And as they quietly closed the door behind them, she smiled to herself, already imagining the wedding.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. The first thing you became aware of was warmth. Minho’s warmth. His arms were still wrapped securely around you, his chest rising and falling steadily against your back.

For a moment, you didn’t move.

You just lay there, soaking in everything. The way his breath tickled the nape of your neck, the way his fingers had lazily intertwined with yours sometime in the middle of the night, the way his body was completely relaxed against yours.

Then, Minho stirred, groaning softly as he tightened his hold on you. “Mm… five more minutes,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

You smiled, turning slightly so you could see his face. His hair was an absolute mess, sticking up in random directions, and his eyes were still barely open. He looked ridiculously adorable.

“You’re the one who has to get up,” you teased. “It’s your house.”

Minho groaned dramatically, burying his face in your shoulder. “Let’s just live here forever.”

You laughed. “In your bed?”

“Yep.” He peeked up at you, smirking. “Though, to be fair, you didn’t seem to mind being in my arms all night.”

You rolled your eyes, lightly pushing his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He grinned but finally let go, stretching with a yawn before rolling out of bed. “Come on. Let’s get food before my mom thinks we died in here.”

Breakfast was surprisingly peaceful.

Minho’s mom had made pancakes, and despite the teasing glances she kept throwing at you two, she didn’t say anything though you could tell she wanted to. Minho, of course, acted like nothing had changed, but every now and then, his knee would brush against yours under the table, or he’d sneak little glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

You definitely noticed.

As you reached for the syrup, Minho’s phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, and when he saw the name on the screen, he immediately sighed.

“Of course it’s Kitty.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What does she want?”

He opened the message, and you leaned over to peek at his screen.

Kitty: Soooo… did the plan work or not??? I need updates. Did you confess??

Minho shook his head, smirking. “She’s acting like this was some grand heist.”

You laughed. “To be fair, it kinda was.”

Minho hummed, pretending to consider it. “True.”

Then, instead of responding with words, he turned his camera on, leaned in toward you, and snapped a quick picture of the two of you sitting way too close at the breakfast table your hand in his, his hoodie still draped over your shoulders.

You blinked. “Minho—”

Too late.

He sent the picture.

A second later, Kitty’s response came in.

Kitty: OH MY GOD I KNEW IT!!!

Minho chuckled, locking his phone before placing it back on the table. “That should keep her satisfied for now.”

You shook your head, amused. “You’re so dramatic.”

Minho smirked, resting his chin in his palm as he gazed at you. “And yet, you’re still here.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

Because, honestly?

There was nowhere else you’d rather be.

The school day was just beginning, and you were walking alongside Minho, your usual group of friends scattered about. The moment you stepped onto the campus, you could feel the weight of the new dynamic. You and Minho were finally… officially together. The tension and uncertainty of the past few weeks had shifted into something more solid, more real, and it made your heart race every time you caught his eye.

You couldn’t help but notice the small things how Minho would reach over to squeeze your hand between classes or how he’d make sure to walk you to your next period, carrying your bag for you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Today, you noticed it even more. The way he looked at you when you laughed at something, the way his hand never left yours unless absolutely necessary. You were still getting used to this new, more affectionate side of Minho, but it felt right.

Until—

As you walked toward the building, a familiar voice cut through the chatter of the hall.

“Minho.”

You froze, and Minho did too. You both turned to see Lee Joon walking toward you, his usual calm expression in place. He wasn’t alone there were a couple of his friends walking behind him but it was clear his attention was on you and Minho.

For a second, there was an awkward silence. You weren’t sure what to say after everything, you’d almost forgotten that there had once been something between you and Lee Joon. But here he was, standing in front of you, and you had no idea how this was going to go.

Lee Joon gave you a small smile, but his gaze shifted to Minho, his expression softening.

“I just wanted to say,” he began, his voice steady, “I’m happy for you two.”

Minho blinked, clearly not expecting that. “What?”

Lee Joon shrugged, hands shoved into his pockets. “I mean it. I’m glad you two worked it out.” He glanced at you for a moment, then looked back at Minho. “I just hope you’ll treat her well, yeah?”

There was a strange tension in the air, but Lee Joon’s words were honest, and his tone was sincere.

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly processing Lee Joon’s sudden warmth. “I—yeah, I will.” He smirked. “Not like I’d do anything else.”

Lee Joon nodded, his gaze softening. “Just making sure.” He offered Minho a small smile. “Anyway, good luck, man. I wish you both the best.”

Minho nodded, his posture relaxing. “Thanks, Lee Joon.” He smiled in return, a little less guarded now.

Lee Joon didn’t linger for long. He gave you a nod before turning and walking away with his friends, leaving the two of you standing in the hallway.

The moment Lee Joon disappeared around the corner, Minho exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, his hand still holding yours. “That was… unexpected.”

You looked up at him, a little surprised by how easily Minho had taken it. “Yeah. It was nice of him, though.”

Minho smirked, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah, well… he knows I’ll treat you right. I don’t need to prove anything.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the warmth spreading through your chest. “You’re so confident.”

Minho chuckled, pulling you a little closer. “It’s not about confidence. It’s about knowing what I have.”

He gave you a mischievous look, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Well, good,” you teased, “because I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

Minho’s grin softened, and he leaned in to kiss the top of your head. “Good. Because neither am I.”

And as you both made your way into the building, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was finally falling into place.

The day was flying by, and lunch break arrived with a wave of relief. You and Minho made your way to the usual spot where you’d meet up with your friends, settling into a spot on the grassy field behind the school. The weather was perfect a light breeze, warm sun but something about it felt a little off today.

As you sat down, you noticed that Kitty wasn’t exactly looking too thrilled. She was pacing around the area, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, shooting occasional glances at you and Minho. It wasn’t the usual carefree Kitty you were used to, and you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Minho, sitting beside you, seemed to pick up on it, too. He leaned over, resting his head on your shoulder for a second as he whispered, “What’s with Kitty?”

You looked over at her. “I think she’s… jealous?”

Minho blinked, clearly confused. “Of us?”

You chuckled lightly. “I think she’s tired of playing the third wheel.”

At that, Minho burst into laughter. “What, you think she’s jealous of me?”

“Well, when you’re always the one hanging out with me, maybe.” You shot him a teasing glance, nudging him with your elbow. “Don’t worry, she’ll get over it. It’s just… funny how she’s acting.”

Just as you said that, Kitty suddenly groaned loudly, causing both you and Minho to turn toward her. She flopped down dramatically on the grass beside you, throwing her arms out in frustration.

“I can’t stand this!” she declared, earning curious looks from the people around her.

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “What’s wrong with you now, Kitty?”

She let out a theatrical sigh, flopping her head back onto the grass as if the entire world were conspiring against her. “I am literally the third wheel now! How am I supposed to be your best friend if you’re over here being all cute together all the time?” She shot you both an exaggerated pout. “You know I’m just here for the drama, and you guys are ruining it with all your…” she gestured dramatically to the both of you, “…love and cuddles and whatever else you’re doing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and warm. Minho chuckled too, clearly amused. “We’re not doing anything, Kitty. We’re just sitting here.”

Kitty threw up her hands. “It’s not the sitting, it’s the fact that I’m alone while you two are all over each other! You’re making me feel like a third wheel, and I’m not okay with that!”

Minho grinned mischievously, leaning back against the grass. “If it makes you feel any better, Kitty,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “I’m sure we could work something out. You’re always welcome to hang out with us.”

Kitty narrowed her eyes. “Oh, really? You’re just so generous, Minho. Like, I’m so excited to spend my time watching you two be all… sweet and adorable.”

You grinned, teasing her playfully. “I think you’re just mad because you have no one to complain about like we do.”

Kitty groaned again, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, fine, I get it. You two are all happy and cute, and I’m stuck in the corner being the lonely best friend.”

Minho smirked, nudging you with his shoulder. “Well, you can hang out with us, but you have to put up with the cuteness.”

Kitty dramatically covered her face with her hands. “I don’t think I can handle it!”

You laughed, your heart warm from the teasing banter. You could tell that even though Kitty was acting all dramatic about the situation, she didn’t truly mind. She loved both of you, and she just wanted to make sure she wasn’t forgotten in all of this new relationship excitement.

Minho, sensing the mood shifting, leaned forward with a genuine smile. “Hey, we’ll make it up to you, Kitty. How about we all hang out this weekend? You, me, Y/N. I’ll even throw in some extra snacks for you to complain about us with.”

Kitty raised her head from her hands, giving him a skeptical look. “You’ll throw in extra snacks, huh?”

“Yep.” Minho grinned. “And I’ll promise not to be overly affectionate around you. Maybe.”

Kitty smirked. “Alright, deal. But only if I get to choose the movie.”

You and Minho exchanged glances, both of you knowing there was no way Kitty would ever let you pick the movie after all this.

“Deal,” Minho agreed, already preparing himself for whatever chaos Kitty was about to drag you into next.

“Great,” Kitty said, sitting up and wiping her hands dramatically. “Now that we’ve settled that, you guys owe me for ruining my third-wheel-free life.”

Minho rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

As the three of you sat there, joking and laughing, the warmth of your new relationship and the friendship that came with it was more than enough to make everything feel right. Even if Kitty was a little dramatic, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The weekend arrived, and the three of you gathered at Minho’s place for your promised movie night. Kitty had already made it clear that she would control the movie selection, but to her surprise, she was having a hard time picking one. Every time she suggested a movie, Minho would raise an eyebrow and say, “Are you sure that one? We might fall asleep in the middle of it.”

“You’re lucky I don’t make you watch another rom-com,” she threatened, glancing between the two of you with a playful smirk.

You chuckled. “I think we’ve seen enough rom-coms for one lifetime, Kitty.”

Minho grinned. “I’m on her side this time. No more cheesy love stories.”

Kitty huffed but eventually settled on a movie. She made sure it was one neither of you had seen, determined to pick something that would hold your attention. Popcorn was popped, and drinks were set out in front of you both, but as the night went on, it became obvious that the movie wasn’t the only thing that had everyone’s attention.

You and Minho found yourselves sitting close together on the couch, your legs tangled beneath a soft blanket. Kitty was seated next to you, but she was starting to get a little more restless as the evening wore on.

Minho, being Minho, couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances at you. your hand in his, his fingers gently tracing the back of your hand. Every now and then, he’d feed you a piece of popcorn, and you’d smile and reciprocate by handing him one in return. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just simple gestures of affection that made your heart flutter.

Kitty, on the other hand, was watching the two of you with a slightly exasperated look on her face. At first, she tried to hide it behind the popcorn bowl, but it was hard not to notice the way her eyes kept flicking over to you and Minho, both of you so caught up in your little bubble of quiet tenderness.

You leaned against Minho’s shoulder, feeling content as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “This movie’s good,” you said softly, though you knew you were paying more attention to him than the actual film.

“Mm-hmm,” Minho murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. “Better with you here.”

You smiled, brushing your cheek against his arm. “It’s always better when you’re around.”

Kitty rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the tiny smile tugging at her lips. “You guys are so cheesy,” she said, though the tone wasn’t as biting as before.

You looked at her, a little mischievous. “Oh, don’t act like you’re not enjoying the drama of it all.”

She threw a pillow at you. “I’m not enjoying anything, thank you very much. I’m just—”

She stopped when she saw you and Minho share a quiet laugh, his hand brushing your hair away from your face. It was in that moment that something shifted in Kitty’s eyes. The earlier feeling of being left out and annoyed by the constant affection faded, replaced by something different.

She felt a little… guilty.

She had been so quick to complain about being the third wheel, but now, as she watched the way Minho gazed at you like you were the center of his world she couldn’t help but feel a wave of regret.

Minho was happy. You were happy. And here she was, trying to make herself the center of attention, when she knew perfectly well that she didn’t need to be.

Kitty paused, her arms crossing as she sighed deeply. “Okay, okay. I admit it. I’m a little jealous. Happy now?”

You and Minho both laughed at her outburst, and she threw her hands up in defeat.

“I’m just saying, you two are so cute together. And I’m just… I don’t know… sitting here eating all the popcorn.” She leaned back into the couch dramatically. “You’re like a real couple now, huh?”

Minho leaned over, gently pulling the blanket higher around you both. “Yeah, we are.” He gave her a playful grin. “And don’t worry, Kitty. You’re still our favorite third wheel.”

Kitty rolled her eyes again but smiled, her earlier annoyance melting away as she saw the affection between you and Minho. It was clear that you both were in a happy, comfortable place, and while it might’ve taken her a moment to get used to it, she was genuinely happy for you both.

“I guess I can get used to being the third wheel if you two keep being this adorable,” she said, her voice light and teasing again.

You grinned and handed her the popcorn. “As long as you’re still our favorite third wheel.”

Kitty took the bowl from you and sighed dramatically. “I’ll allow it.” She glanced over at you both, her expression softening. “But you guys better treat each other well. I’m keeping an eye on you, Minho.”

Minho chuckled, wrapping his arm tighter around you, pulling you closer. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

Kitty leaned back, smiling quietly as she watched you and Minho. And despite the playful teasing, there was a warmth in her chest a realization that she wasn’t just the third wheel. She was part of something special, too. She would always be a part of your circle, and that’s what truly mattered.

As the movie continued to play, and you and Minho quietly exchanged sweet words, Kitty settled in beside you both, no longer feeling like an outsider. Instead, she was part of this beautiful, messy, and loving little family you were creating, and maybe just maybe being the third wheel didn’t seem so bad after all.

The next day, you and Kitty were hanging out in the school courtyard, enjoying a rare moment of peace before the chaos of the next class. The sun was warm, the breeze gentle, and for once, Kitty wasn’t groaning about third-wheeling until, of course, Minho appeared.

And not just Minho.

Minho, walking confidently across the courtyard with a massive teddy bear in his arms.

You blinked in surprise, trying to process what you were seeing. The teddy bear was almost as big as he was, its fluffy arms practically swallowing him whole. He carried it effortlessly, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Kitty, on the other hand, immediately burst into laughter. “Oh, this is gold.” She crossed her arms and smirked as Minho reached your table. “So, tell me, Minho who’s the lucky recipient of that absurdly large bear? Is it… me?” She batted her eyelashes dramatically. “You really shouldn’t have.”

Minho rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on the bear as he looked at Kitty with mock seriousness. “Oh, yeah, totally. I went to the store, saw this giant teddy bear, and thought, You know who needs this? Kitty Song Covey.”

Kitty gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in fake flattery. “Wow. I’m touched. I mean, I always knew I was your favorite person, but this really seals the deal.”

Minho ignored her, turning toward you with a small, almost shy smile. “Nah, this is obviously for Y/N.”

Your eyes widened as he extended the teddy bear toward you, and a soft warmth spread through your chest. “Minho… this is huge.” You reached out to touch the soft fur, grinning as you took it from him. “What’s the occasion?”

Minho shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. “No occasion. Just saw it and thought you’d like it.”

Kitty groaned dramatically. “Oh my god. You two are unbearable.” She gestured toward the teddy bear. “Literally.”

Minho shot her a smug grin. “Jealous, Kitty?”

Kitty huffed, shaking her head. “Not in the slightest. But I will say this if you keep spoiling Y/N like this, you’re setting a dangerous precedent. She’s gonna start expecting giant teddy bears all the time.”

You hugged the bear close, laughing. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind that.”

Minho smirked, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Noted.”

Kitty fake gagged. “Okay, enough. I need to find a date immediately before I drown in the sheer amount of romance happening in front of me.”

Minho just chuckled as you leaned into the plush bear, completely content.

And as Kitty dramatically pulled out her phone, muttering about setting up a dating profile, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have Minho and his ridiculously sweet gestures all to yourself.

That night, Kitty walked into your living room, arms full with two giant bags of snacks like popcorn, candy, chips, and even a couple of sodas she had smuggled in from her dorm. She had been looking forward to this sleepover all week. A classic bestie night: just you and her, watching rom-coms, gossiping, and stuffing your faces with junk food.

But the second she stepped into the dimly lit room, her excitement immediately turned into exasperation.

Because there, right in the middle of your living room, were you and Minho.

Cuddled up on top of the massive teddy bear he had given you earlier, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, both of you fast asleep.

Kitty let out the most dramatic groan, dropping the snack bags onto the floor with a loud rustle. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You had promised her. PROMISED. It was supposed to be a just the two of you kind of night no boyfriends allowed. But here you were, completely breaking the sacred best friend sleepover code, snuggled up against Minho like the two of you were in your own little world.

Kitty crossed her arms, tapping her foot. “Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.

Minho, of course, was sleeping peacefully, his arms wrapped securely around you, his face buried in your hair like he had no plans of moving anytime soon. You, curled up comfortably against his chest, were equally as lost in dreamland, your head resting just beneath his chin.

Kitty sighed, rubbing her temples. “This is exactly why I need a boyfriend. So I don’t have to suffer alone every time you two decide to turn my night into a third-wheel nightmare.”

She contemplated waking you up shaking you awake and demanding answers but then she noticed something that made her pause.

Despite how annoying it was to have her best friend ditch their plans, the way you and Minho were curled up together, completely at ease, was kind of… sweet. It wasn’t just some casual nap; it was the kind of peaceful, soft kind of love that made it obvious how much you two cared about each other.

Kitty sighed dramatically, crouching down to grab the spilled snack bags. “Fine,” she muttered to herself. “I’ll let it slide this time. But next sleepover? No boyfriends allowed. I mean it.”

With one last exasperated glance at you two, she plopped down onto the couch, pulled out a bag of popcorn, and started her movie third-wheeling once again, but at least with good snacks.

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the school courtyard as you and Minho walked hand in hand, matching strides. The weekend was just around the corner, and you had the perfect plan a carnival date. Well, technically, a carnival hangout, since you were about to invite Kitty.

Minho, of course, was less than thrilled about that part.

“Remind me why we’re inviting her again?” he asked, glancing at you with a smirk.

You nudged him playfully. “Because she’s our friend and because I totally ditched her during the sleepover. We owe her.”

Minho sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if she ruins our romantic moments, I’m making her buy me churros.”

You giggled as you spotted Kitty near her locker, scrolling through her phone, completely oblivious to your approach. Minho, ever the menace, leaned in and whispered, “Watch this,” before calling out

“Kitty Song Covey!”

Kitty visibly flinched, nearly dropping her phone. She whipped her head around, eyes narrowing. “Why do you sound like you’re about to ask me for a favor?”

You beamed at her. “Because we are!”

Kitty groaned, already shaking her head. “Nope. I don’t like this. Whatever it is, no.”

Minho scoffed. “You don’t even know what we’re gonna say.”

Kitty crossed her arms. “Fine. Hit me with it.”

You clasped your hands together, putting on your sweetest voice. “We’re going to the carnival this weekend, and we want you to come with us!”

Kitty blinked. Then, as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world, she let out a loud, mocking laugh.

Minho frowned. “What’s so funny?”

Kitty wiped an imaginary tear. “Oh, you two are hilarious. You actually think I’m going to spend my Friday night watching you two be disgustingly cute at a carnival?”

You pouted. “Come on, Kitty. We’ll go on rides, eat junk food, win prizes. It’ll be fun!”

Kitty gave you a deadpan look. “Fun for who? Because let’s be real, the moment we get there, it’s gonna be ‘Omg, Minho, let’s go on the Ferris wheel!’ ‘Minho, win me that stuffed bear!’ ‘Minho, let’s share some cotton candy!’” She rolled her eyes. “Meanwhile, I’ll be in the background, questioning all my life choices.”

Minho smirked. “You do have a point. We’d be way too busy being adorable to give you attention.”

Kitty groaned. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about!” She turned to you. “Tell me I’m wrong. Go ahead. Lie to my face.”

You opened your mouth, then hesitated. Because, well… she wasn’t wrong. You and Minho would probably do all of that.

Kitty smirked in triumph. “Exactly.” She slung her bag over her shoulder. “So, yeah. Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather spend my Friday night doing literally anything else than third-wheeling at a carnival.”

Minho grinned, draping an arm around you. “Your loss. Guess that means more snacks and prizes for us.”

Kitty scoffed. “Oh, please. Minho’s just saying that because he knows you’re gonna make him spend all his money on those overpriced carnival games.”

Minho’s smirk faltered slightly. “…That’s not entirely false.”

You giggled, leaning into him. “You love it, though.”

Minho sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.”

Kitty made a gagging noise. “And this is exactly why I’m staying home.” She started to walk away, then paused, turning back to you. “But hey, if you win a big plushie, I expect a picture. Y’know, just so I can suffer from afar.”

You laughed. “Deal.”

As Kitty walked off, Minho chuckled, squeezing your hand. “Well, that went as expected.”

You grinned. “That just means we get to have the most romantic, disgustingly cute date ever.”

Minho smirked. “Oh, absolutely. Let’s make sure Kitty regrets not coming.”

And with that, the two of you walked off, already planning the perfect carnival date completely third-wheel free.

The carnival was everything you had hoped for bright lights, the scent of fried food in the air, and the sound of excited laughter filling the night. It was the perfect atmosphere for a date, and Minho, ever the gentleman, had already taken your hand the moment you stepped through the entrance.

And, of course, in true Kitty fashion, everything she predicted was coming true.

First stop? The Ferris wheel.

You had insisted on it, dragging Minho toward the towering ride with stars in your eyes. “Come on, it’s a must!” you said, looking at him with so much excitement that he just sighed and let himself be pulled along.

Once inside the small, enclosed gondola, you leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder as the ride began its slow ascent. The higher you went, the more the entire carnival stretched out beneath you, a glittering wonderland of neon lights and moving rides.

Minho glanced down at you, smirking. “So, when do I get my dramatic movie moment where you say something super sentimental?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “You mean like, ‘Minho, you make my world brighter than all these carnival lights combined’?”

Minho chuckled. “Yeah. Something cheesy like that.”

You looked at him for a moment, then smiled softly. “I don’t need to say that, because you already know it’s true.”

For once, Minho was silent. His smirk faded just slightly, replaced with something softer, something almost vulnerable. Then, without a word, he leaned down and kissed your forehead, letting the moment speak for itself.

By the time you got off the Ferris wheel, you were beaming.

Next stop? The carnival games.

You weren’t going to lie you were determined to leave with a stuffed animal. And unfortunately for Minho, that meant that he’ll end up being replaced by that some stuffed animal

“Minho, you have to win me that one!” You pointed at a giant plush bunny hanging from one of the booths.

Minho eyed it skeptically. “That thing is, like, twice your size.”

“So? That just means I’ll have more to cuddle when you’re not around.”

Minho gave you a deadpan look. “Are you seriously saying a stuffed bunny could replace me?”

You grinned. “I mean, let’s see if you can even win it first.”

That was all the motivation Minho needed. He rolled up his sleeves, stepped up to the game booth, and put on his game face.

What followed was several attempts, an increasingly frustrated Minho, and a lot of teasing from you. But eventually finally he knocked down all the targets, and the booth attendant handed over the giant plush bunny.

You gasped in delight, hugging the stuffed toy tightly before turning to Minho with the biggest smile. “I take it back. Nothing could replace you.”

Minho huffed, pretending to be unimpressed, but you could see the tiny satisfied smile on his lips. “Good answer.”

Then, without warning, he reached out, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in close. “But just so you don’t forget, I think I deserve a reward.”

You laughed. “Oh? And what exactly do you want?”

Minho smirked before leaning in, brushing his lips against yours in a sweet, lingering kiss.

By the time you pulled away, your face was warm, your heart racing.

Minho grinned. “That’ll do.”

And finally? The food.

You insisted on sharing cotton candy, even though Minho rolled his eyes and muttered about how predictable you were. But when you held out a piece for him, he didn’t hesitate to lean in and take a bite letting his lips brush against your fingertips in the process.

You felt your face heat up. “You did that on purpose.”

Minho just smirked. “Did I?”

And then there was the churro.

Which Minho also insisted on sharing, but in the most obnoxious way possible.

“Let’s do that couple thing,” he said, holding the churro up.

You raised an eyebrow. “What couple thing?”

Minho’s smirk widened. “Where we each bite from one end at the same time.”

You stared at him. “That is the dumbest—”

But before you could even finish, Minho already took one end into his mouth, raising an expectant eyebrow at you.

You groaned. “I cannot believe you.”

Still, you leaned in, biting the other end.

Kitty would have thrown up on the spot if she had seen it.

By the end of the night, you had done exactly what Kitty had predicted Ferris wheel, winning a plushie, sharing cotton candy, and feeding each other snacks.

And honestly?

You wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Kitty was sprawled across your bed, lazily flipping through a magazine as you tidied up your desk. She had come over to hang out, claiming she needed a “break” from dealing with her own dramas, but you knew the truth she was mildly curious about how your carnival date with Minho went.

She hadn’t asked outright, of course. Instead, she casually glanced around your room, humming to herself until her eyes landed on something huge in the corner.

The giant rabbit plush from last night.

Kitty sat up instantly, pointing at it. “Wait a minute. Don’t you already have one already?”

You paused, following her gaze before letting out a small laugh. “Okay, first of all, I only have one other giant plush. And second, this one is special.”

Kitty snorted. “Special how? Because Minho wasted all his money trying to win it for you?”

Before you could answer, your door suddenly swung open, and speak of the devil Minho walked in.

“Excuse you,” he said, giving Kitty a look as he strolled inside like he owned the place. “I did not waste my money. I made a perfectly justified investment.”

Kitty rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, of course, spending an absurd amount of cash just to impress your girlfriend is an investment. How silly of me to think otherwise.”

Minho smirked, plopping down onto your bed beside you. “Exactly. Glad you’re finally catching on, Covey.”

Kitty scoffed before turning back to you. “Okay, so explain. Why do you need two enormous stuffed animals taking up half your room?”

You shrugged, hugging the plush rabbit close. “Because they’re cute. And soft. And Minho got them for me.”

Minho leaned back, resting an arm behind his head. “Yeah, it’s called being an amazing boyfriend. You wouldn’t get it, Kitty.”

Kitty groaned. “Oh my god, you are so smug.”

Minho grinned. “And yet, here I am, still the favorite.”

Kitty dramatically flopped back onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. “I need a boyfriend. Or literally any kind of love life. Because I physically cannot keep third-wheeling you two like this.”

You giggled. “You could always get a giant plushie for yourself.”

Kitty shot you a look. “It is not the same, Y/N.”

Minho smirked, leaning in closer to you. “See? No one does it like me.”

Kitty groaned into a pillow. “I hate both of you.”

You and Minho exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter, while Kitty just dramatically complained about needing new friends who weren’t disgustingly in love.

Kitty sat up, staring at the giant rabbit plush like it was calling her name. She tapped her chin thoughtfully before turning to you with a suspiciously sweet smile.

“So…” she started, scooting closer to the plush. “Can I borrow this little guy for a while?”

You blinked at her, clutching the stuffed bunny closer like she had just asked for your firstborn child. “Uh… no. It’s mine.”

Kitty gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart like you had just deeply offended her. “Excuse me?”

Minho, who was casually scrolling through his phone on your bed, snorted. “Did you actually think she’d say yes?”

Kitty ignored him, narrowing her eyes at you. “Wait, why not?! You have Minho! I don’t have anyone! Let me have the bunny!”

You shook your head firmly. “Nope. Minho won it for me. It’s special.”

Kitty threw her hands in the air. “Okay, and what about me? What do I get? Third-wheeling privileges?”

Minho smirked. “Sounds like a you problem, Covey.”

Kitty shot him a glare. “I wasn’t talking to you, Mr. I Spend All My Money on Rigged Carnival Games.”

Minho shrugged, completely unfazed. “Worth it.”

Kitty groaned, flopping back on your bed. “This is so unfair. You have a boyfriend and two giant plushies. Meanwhile, I have neither. I should at least get one!”

You laughed, patting her shoulder. “You can hug the pillow?”

Kitty dramatically rolled onto her side. “It’s not the same. It doesn’t have the emotional support energy that the bunny has.”

Minho leaned in, smirking. “Sounds like you need a boyfriend, Covey.”

Kitty shot up. “Thank you, Minho! I hadn’t realized! Let me just go to the boyfriend store and pick one out!”

Minho chuckled. “Well, if you want, I could help set you up—”

“NO.” Kitty cut him off immediately, pointing a finger at him. “You and your questionable matchmaking skills stay far, far away from my love life.”

Minho leaned back, hands up in surrender. “Fine. Your loss.”

Kitty huffed before turning back to you with pleading eyes. “So? Are you gonna let me borrow the bunny or not?”

You shook your head again, holding it even tighter. “Nope.”

Kitty groaned. “You’re a monster.”

Minho smirked. “Now you know how I feel when she steals my hoodies.”

Kitty gasped again, eyes widening in realization. “OH. MY. GOD. Y/N, you hoard things! First his hoodies, Mostly everything?! What’s next? His soul?”

You grinned innocently. “Already got that.”

Minho chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. “It’s true. I’m hers.”

Kitty made a loud, disgusted noise. “I need new friends.”

And with that, she dramatically flopped onto your bed again, while you and Minho just laughed at her misery.

Kitty, still sulking from her failed attempt to claim the bunny, suddenly pointed at the other giant plush sitting in the corner of your room the first one Minho brought for you.

“Okay, but what about that one?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Can I at least borrow him?”

Before you could even answer, Minho immediately cut in, shaking his head.

“Yeah, no. That one’s off-limits too.”

Kitty groaned. “Oh, come on! Why?!”

Minho smirked, leaning back against your pillows. “Because that’s our son.”

You blinked, looking at him in confusion. “Wait… what?”

Minho pointed at the plushie. “That’s Minho Jr. Our firstborn.”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my god.”

Kitty, meanwhile, was staring at him with pure disbelief. “I— Minho, what the actual—” She turned to you. “Are you seriously going along with this?!”

You shrugged, grinning. “I mean… I guess it kinda makes sense.”

Minho nodded seriously. “Exactly. Minho Jr. was the first big plushie I got for Y/N. He represents the beginning of our love story. He has sentimental value.”

Kitty gagged. “Please, spare me.”

But Minho wasn’t done yet. He pointed at the giant bunny still in your arms. “And that one—our second child.”

Kitty threw her hands in the air. “You did NOT just give the plushies a family ranking!”

Minho shrugged. “Listen, it’s called commitment. You wouldn’t get it.”

You giggled, hugging the bunny closer. “So… Minho Jr. and…” You looked at the bunny thoughtfully. “What’s this one’s name?”

Minho tilted his head, pretending to think. Then he snapped his fingers. “Bunny-ho.”

Kitty lost it. “NO.”

You burst into laughter. “Oh my god, Minho—”

Minho looked so smug. “What? It’s perfect.”

Kitty groaned. “I hate it here. First, I can’t have a plushie, and now I have to sit here while you two build a fake family with stuffed animals?”

Minho smirked, pulling you closer. “You could be the cool aunt, Covey.”

Kitty gave him a deadpan look. “I want nothing to do with this family tree.”

You giggled, leaning into Minho’s side. “It’s okay, Minho. She just doesn’t understand our vision.”

Minho nodded. “Exactly. Some people just aren’t ready for this level of commitment.”

Kitty groaned again, flopping back onto your bed. “I need to start charging you guys for emotional damages.”

Meanwhile, you and Minho just exchanged knowing smiles, completely content with your ridiculous little plushie family.

Kitty was still dramatically lying on your bed, mumbling complaints about how she had somehow ended up third-wheeling a couple and their imaginary plushie family.

Minho, of course, was having the time of his life teasing her.

As he wrapped an arm around you, he turned to Kitty with a smirk. “Hey, so… do you mind watching your nephews while I take this beautiful lady out to dinner?”

Kitty sat up immediately, staring at him like he had lost his mind. “I— excuse me?!”

Minho gestured towards the two giant plushies in the corner, looking completely serious. “Minho Jr. and Bunny-ho. You know, your nephews. Someone’s gotta babysit them while we’re gone.”

You giggled, playing along. “Yeah, Kitty. They’ll get lonely.”

Kitty rubbed her temples. “I cannot believe I’m having this conversation right now.”

Minho tilted his head innocently. “What? You love kids, don’t you?”

Kitty gave him the most deadpan look. “They’re not kids. They’re stuffed animals.”

Minho ignored her, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple before grabbing his jacket. “Anyway, we’ll be back later. Make sure they don’t stay up too late.”

Kitty threw her hands in the air. “Oh, right. Because a bunch of cotton and fabric totally has a bedtime!”

You smiled, hugging Bunny-ho close. “And don’t forget to feed them!”

Kitty let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my god. You guys are actually insane.”

Minho just grinned. “You knew what you were signing up for when you became our friend.”

Kitty groaned, flopping back onto your bed. “You know what? Fine. I’ll watch your fake children. But if they start talking to me, I’m out.”

You and Minho burst into laughter as he took your hand, leading you towards the door.

Right before you stepped out, Minho turned back with a teasing smirk. “Love you, sis. Be a good aunt.”

Kitty threw a pillow at him. “GET OUT!”

You laughed the whole way down the hall, holding Minho’s hand as he chuckled beside you. “She’s never gonna let this go.”

Minho squeezed your hand, smiling down at you. “Totally worth it.”

The restaurant Minho had chosen was small, cozy, and tucked away from the busy streets a place that felt like your own little world. Soft lights hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the wooden tables, and the faint sound of music played in the background. It was perfect.

Minho pulled out your chair for you, giving you a teasing smirk as you sat down. “Only the best treatment for my girl.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You’re so extra.”

He sat down across from you, resting his chin in his hand as he gazed at you with that annoyingly charming look he always had. “And yet, you love it.”

You pretended to think for a moment, tapping your chin. “Hmm… I don’t know, do I?”

Minho scoffed, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “Wow. After everything I’ve done for you? After winning you one child at the carnival?”

You giggled. “Oh, right! Bunny-ho. I should’ve known this was about him.”

Minho smirked. “Obviously. I take my fatherly duties very seriously.”

A waiter came by, setting down your drinks. Minho grabbed his immediately, taking a sip before looking at you again. “So, what’s the verdict? Best date ever?”

You smiled, stirring your drink with the straw. “It’s definitely up there.”

Minho leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Up there?”

You shrugged playfully. “I mean, there was that one time you tripped while trying to impress me—”

Minho groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god, you promised to never bring that up again.”

You laughed. “I never promised that!”

Minho peeked at you through his fingers before shaking his head, clearly trying to hold back a smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You took a sip of your drink, looking at him over the rim. “I know.”

The food arrived, and as you both started eating, Minho kept sneaking bites from your plate, acting innocent every time you caught him.

“Minho!” you gasped, swatting his hand away. “Eat your own food!”

“But yours tastes better,” he whined, quickly grabbing another bite before you could stop him.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Unbelievable.”

Minho grinned, chewing happily. “Hey, you knew what you were getting into when you started dating me.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling.

After a while, Minho set down his chopsticks and leaned back in his chair, looking at you softly. His usual teasing smirk was replaced by something gentler.

“I really like this,” he said, voice quieter now.

You tilted your head. “Like what?”

He gestured around. “This. Us. Sitting here, eating, talking. Just… being together.”

Your heart melted a little at the way he was looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “Me too.”

Minho squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “Good. Because I plan on doing this a lot more.”

You giggled. “Stealing my food?”

Minho smirked. “That too.”

And as you sat there, laughing and talking over dinner, you knew there was no place you’d rather be.

After finishing dinner, Minho insisted on paying, waving you off when you tried to argue. “Nope, I got this,” he said, pulling out his wallet. “A gentleman always pays for his lady.”

You rolled your eyes with a small smile. “You just don’t want me to see how much you spent.”

Minho smirked. “That too.”

Once you were outside, the night air was cool, but not too cold. The streets were quieter now, the soft glow of streetlights giving everything a warm, cozy feel. Minho reached for your hand as you walked, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I think that was the best dinner I’ve ever had,” he said.

You looked at him with a teasing smile. “Because of the food or because of me?”

Minho pretended to think for a moment before grinning. “Both. But mostly you.”

You laughed, nudging him lightly. “Good answer.”

As you continued walking, Minho suddenly stopped in front of a small convenience store. “Wait here,” he said before disappearing inside.

You stood there, confused, until he came back out a few minutes later holding two ice cream bars. He unwrapped one and handed it to you.

You smiled, taking it. “What’s this for?”

Minho shrugged, unwrapping his own. “Just felt like ending the night with something sweet.”

You took a bite, enjoying the simple moment. Minho watched you for a second before chuckling.

“What?” you asked.

“You have ice cream on your lip,” he said, stepping closer. Before you could wipe it away, he leaned in and kissed the spot, his lips lingering just for a second.

Your face felt warm despite the cold treat in your hand. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled, looking away to hide your smile.

Minho just laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you continued walking. “And yet, you love it.”

You sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah.”

He squeezed your shoulder gently. “Say it.”

You looked up at him, meeting his expectant gaze. With a playful smile, you said, “I love it.”

Minho grinned, looking completely satisfied. “Knew it.”

And just like that, the night felt even more perfect.

As soon as you and Minho stepped into your house, still laughing from your walk back, Kitty was already standing there in the doorway with her arms crossed, tapping her foot like an impatient mother waiting for her kids to come home past curfew.

“Finally! You guys are here,” she huffed, throwing her hands up. “Now come and watch your kids— I mean, your stuffed animals.”

Minho smirked, pulling off his jacket. “Aw, did Aunt Kitty have a hard time babysitting?”

Kitty shot him a glare. “Oh, you have no idea. Minho Jr. and Bunny-ho have been so needy. Bunny-ho kept falling over, and Minho Jr. refused to sit properly on the bed.” She placed a dramatic hand on her forehead. “It was exhausting.”

You giggled, playing along. “Wow, sounds like you had a rough night. Maybe you should’ve read them a bedtime story.”

Kitty rolled her eyes. “Oh, I would have, but I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries as the aunt.”

Minho grinned, stepping over to the bed where the two plushies sat, slightly slumped over from all of Kitty’s supposed “hard work.” He picked up Minho Jr. and cradled it like a baby. “Aw, our poor son. Was Aunt Kitty mean to you?”

Kitty groaned, flopping onto the couch. “I hate that I’ve been dragged into this family roleplay.”

You sat next to her, hugging Bunny-ho close. “You love it.”

“I really don’t.”

Minho sat down beside you, still holding onto Minho Jr. “Well, thanks for watching them while we were gone. You’ve done a great job, Covey.”

Kitty crossed her arms. “Yeah, yeah. Next time, I’m charging for my services.”

You and Minho exchanged a knowing look before turning back to her.

Minho smirked. “Nah. You’re family. Babysitting comes with the title.”

Kitty groaned, grabbing a pillow and covering her face with it. “I need a new friend group.”

“So,” Minho started, stretching out his legs. “What time did you feed our kids?”

Kitty’s head snapped up so fast you thought she might get whiplash. “Excuse me?”

Minho gestured toward the stuffed animals. “Minho Jr. and his little brother. What time did you feed them?”

Kitty gawked at him. “They’re stuffed animals, Minho. They don’t eat.”

Minho gasped in pure horror. “You didn’t feed them?!”

Kitty blinked. “Are you serious right now?”

You, already knowing exactly where this was going, bit your lip to hold back your laughter.

Minho turned to you, eyes wide with mock distress. “Y/N. Our kids haven’t eaten all night. No wonder they look so weak.” He reached over and patted Minho Jr.’s head like a concerned parent. “Oh my poor, starving son…”

Kitty threw Minho Jr. at him. “Here, you can have him back then.”

Minho caught the plush with ease, holding him protectively. “Wow. Just wow, Kitty. I trusted you. And you just let them starve.”

Kitty groaned into a pillow. “I hate you so much.”

“You’re never babysitting again,” Minho continued, shaking his head in disappointment. “Neglectful. Absolutely neglectful.”

“They’re literally stuffed animals!” Kitty shouted. “What was I supposed to do, blend up a smoothie and pour it on them?!”

Minho shrugged. “A responsible babysitter would’ve figured it out.”

Kitty threw another pillow at him.

You, by now, were full-on cackling, clutching your stomach as Minho continued his very dramatic lecture on how Minho Jr. deserved better.

And as much as Kitty complained about you two being absolute menaces, you could see the small smile she was trying to hide.

Yeah, she’d never admit it but she loved this chaos.

Minho, still cradling Minho Jr. like a very concerned parent, suddenly gasped and sat up straighter. He patted down the couch dramatically, as if searching for something.

“Oh no,” he muttered. “Oh no, no, no this is bad.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, still giggling from the last round of teasing. “What now?”

Minho ignored you, turning to Kitty with a grave expression. “Kitty,” he said, voice laced with disappointment. “Where’s the diaper bag?”

Kitty stared at him, unblinking. “The what?”

Minho sighed heavily, rubbing his temples like he was so stressed. “The diaper bag, Kitty.”

Kitty let out the most exasperated groan. “Minho, they are stuffed animals! Why the hell would you need a diaper bag?!”

Minho completely ignored her and reached for an imaginary diaper bag beside the couch. He started “rummaging” through it, his expression getting increasingly more horrified.

“Oh my god,” he breathed. “Oh my god.”

You covered your mouth, already losing it.

“What?!” Kitty snapped.

Minho looked up at her, pure betrayal written across his face. “Kitty.” He placed a hand over his chest, like what he was about to say physically pained him. “Did you even change their diapers?”

Silence.

Kitty just stared at him, completely at a loss for words.

Minho let out a long, dramatic sigh and shook his head, turning to you. “Y/N… I think our children have been sitting in dirty diapers this entire time.”

Kitty screeched. “THEY. ARE. STUFFED ANIMALS!”

Minho shushed her, rocking Minho Jr. back and forth. “It’s okay, buddy. Daddy’s here now. I won’t let Auntie Kitty neglect you ever again.”

Kitty launched a pillow at his face.

Minho caught it without even flinching and just tossed it aside, still fully committed to the bit.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. “My poor, poor kids. Abandoned. Unloved. Sitting in filth.” He dramatically wiped an imaginary tear. “Worst babysitter ever.”

Kitty stood up so fast she nearly tripped over your coffee table. “I AM LEAVING.”

You were crying from laughter at this point, clutching your sides as Kitty stormed toward the door.

Minho called after her, “Don’t forget to leave your babysitting license on the counter! Oh wait you don’t have one anymore.”

The door slammed shut.

And that was the exact moment you completely lost it, doubling over with laughter as Minho grinned victoriously.

“She’s never gonna forgive you for that,” you wheezed.

Minho just smirked, hugging Minho Jr. to his chest. “She’ll be back,” he said confidently. “She loves our kids too much.”

You giggled, wiping at your eyes. “She’s so done with us.”

Minho turned to you, an adorable glint of mischief in his eyes. He shifted closer, draping an arm around your shoulders. “You know,” he said smoothly, playing with the hem of your sleeve. “Since Kitty isn’t here anymore…”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

His smirk deepened. “I was just thinking.” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a very suggestive whisper. “Let’s try for another baby.”

Your entire brain short-circuited. “WHAT?!”

Minho chuckled, loving the way your face immediately heated up. “Yeah,” he continued, looking completely serious. “I think Minho Jr. and his brother need a little sibling.”

You blinked. Then it hit you.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, shoving his shoulder. “You mean another plushie?!”

Minho gasped, feigning offense. “Another plushie?” He scoffed. “Excuse me, they are our kids, Y/N. Have some respect.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “You scared me for a second!”

Minho only grinned, completely unfazed. “So? What do you think? Maybe a little sister this time?” He tapped his chin in mock thought. “Maybe a bunny? Or a big fluffy bear?”

You pretended to consider it, tilting your head. “Hmm… I did see a really cute panda plush at the store the other day…”

Minho’s face lit up. “Say less,” he declared, already grabbing his phone. “We are getting that panda.”

You laughed as he immediately pulled up a shopping app, looking way too serious about his mission.

“Wait, wait,” you teased, tugging at his sleeve. “Are you sure we’re ready for another kid? We just got the last two.”

Minho put a hand over his chest, dramatically serious. “Babe,” he said, completely straight-faced. “I was born to be a dad.”

You lost it, burying your face in his sweatshirt as you laughed.

And just as Minho started adding a panda plush to his cart, your phone dinged with a message from Kitty.

Kitty: I swear to god, if you two adopt another one, I’m reporting you to stuffed animal CPS.

Minho glanced over your shoulder, reading the text. He smirked and immediately typed back:

Minho: Too late. You’re gonna be an aunt again.

You laughed as Kitty sent back an immediate string of angry emojis.

Minho just grinned, kissing the side of your head. “Best parents ever.”

You were struggling.

Kitty had somehow convinced you to help her rearrange her entire room, and at this point, you were seriously questioning how she managed to talk you into this. She was currently sprawled on her bed, scrolling through her phone, while you were the one moving stuff around like a personal assistant.

“Okay, now push the bookshelf like… two inches to the left,” Kitty instructed lazily, barely glancing up.

You sighed but did as she asked, nudging the heavy bookshelf over. “How’s that?”

Kitty squinted. “Mmm… actually, maybe a little to the right—”

Before you could throw something at her, Minho, who had been sitting on her desk chair eating your snacks, suddenly stood up, clearing his throat. His face turned serious, eyes narrowing at Kitty as he dramatically put his hands on his hips.

“Excuse me,” he said, voice firm.

Kitty barely looked up. “What?”

Minho took a deep breath, shaking his head as if he was deeply disappointed. “You do realize that my girl is pregnant, right?”

You froze mid-movement. “…What?”

Kitty blinked. “…Come again?”

Minho crossed his arms. “Pregnant.” He gestured toward you. “She shouldn’t be doing all this work! She can’t be carrying heavy things or running around. You should be doing it! So get your butt up and help.”

Kitty stared at him. Then at you. Then back at him. “Minho,” she deadpanned. “Are you stupid?”

You groaned, shaking your head. “Minho, I am not pregnant.”

Minho gasped dramatically. “Babe.” He clutched his chest like you had wounded him. “How could you say that about our baby panda?”

Kitty let out the loudest, most frustrated groan. “Oh my god.”

Minho ignored her, placing a gentle hand on your stomach. “Shh, baby, don’t listen to Mommy,” he cooed, pretending to rub your nonexistent baby bump. “She’s just tired from carrying you all day.”

You shoved his hand away, dying from laughter. “Minho, it’s a stuffed animal.”

He gasped again, even louder this time. “How dare you talk about our unborn child like that?” He turned to Kitty with pure disappointment. “And you! You’re making a pregnant woman do hard labor! Shame on you!”

Kitty, looking like she was on the verge of throwing something at him, slowly sat up. “Minho.”

“Yes?”

She grabbed a pillow and hurled it at his face.

He caught it effortlessly, smirking. “Wow. Violence in front of our child? Terrible influence, Auntie Kitty.”

Kitty screamed into her hands. “I hate you.”

Minho just grinned, wrapping his arms around you. “Come on, babe. You’ve done enough. Let’s go home and rest for the baby’s sake.”

You rolled your eyes but let him pull you toward the door. “Kitty, good luck with your own room.”

Kitty threw another pillow at the both of you as you left, yelling, “I HOPE YOUR KID THROWS UP ON YOU!”

As soon as you and Minho stepped outside Kitty’s room, you burst into laughter, playfully shoving his arm. “You are so ridiculous,” you giggled, wiping away a stray tear from laughing so hard.

Minho just grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close as you walked down the hallway. “Ridiculously devoted to our unborn child, you mean.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “Minho, for the last time, it’s a stuffed panda!”

He let out a dramatic sigh, looking at you like you just didn’t get it. “And? Does that make them any less of our child?”

You gave him a look. “Yes. Yes, it does.”

Minho pouted, nudging you playfully. “I can’t believe you’d say that. Poor little Panda is in there, waiting to be brought home, and you’re already denying them.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re impossible.”

Minho smirked, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “And yet, you love me.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning into him. “Unfortunately.”

[the-kingshound]

Hi author! :) I just wanted to say that, as a trans person, I'm really excited about your choice to explore Arthur as transfem in your story!

Re: One of the previous anons you got trying really hard to sound reasonable while pushing a bunch of bad-faith arguments.

The whole "long repeated legends should be respected" thing is such a weak argument, backed in-part by their own reasoning as well. Arthurian legend is literally one of the most mutable mythologies out there. Arthur being trans is hardly a stretch.

The section about sexuality to me also seemed like word salad trying to justify their discomfort with anything outside strict binary definitions. "Social media has destroyed what it means to be bi" is a very dramatic statement. Apologies that people are exploring identity in ways they don't personally vibe with. That's by no means "erasure," that's just people existing in ways that don’t conform to their understanding of things.

They're not a victim of "erasure" because other people are broadening language and identity beyond their personal preferences. They still get to call themselves whatever they want outside of those other people defining themselves. They just don't get to control how everyone else experiences and describes themselves.

Them framing trans identity as purely medical is also super reductive and exclusionary. No, gender identity isn't just a matter of how someone expresses themselves, but it also isn't locked to what they were assigned at birth. Nor to some end goal of 'passing' in a specific way. There's no single transition blueprint everyone has to follow to be valid. And the whole "warrior women and nurturing men" thing once again feels like reaching for a point to reinforce their own comfort zone. Nobody was talking about cisgender people breaking gender roles.

It's screaming "I need my strict gender and sexuality categories to feel secure, and any deviation from that makes me uncomfortable." They should've just stopped at "this isn’t for me", and moved on instead of writing a whole essay that says nothing of value.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really appreciate what you’re doing with your story, and it makes me so happy to see trans narratives explored in different ways. Keep doing what you're doing! :)

(You also don't need to publish this if you'd rather not, I don't mean to fight with anybody, just throwing in my two cents because seeing that anon's take after originally being very elated seeing your original post made me want to do so! :D)

.

[lucimaaie]

danger ✧.* spiderwoman au

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - the thought of ellie running into danger causes you do something stupid yourself.

warnings - mix of fluff and angst, actually moving the plot along a bit, 4k word count, mostly proofread

playlist | spidey masterlist

You didn’t know how you ended up on the streets of Queens. It was as if you hadn’t gotten in the car, put it in gear and drove there on pure adrenaline mixed with anxiety. It was different when you were at home watching a stranger in a suit risk their life for other strangers. Now, that stranger was your girlfriend heading right into the eye of danger and you’d just given her permission to do so.

You were starting to feel the ache in your heels after running the distance your car didn’t cover in the midst of traffic. The ache in your feet was the last of your worries as you took in the chaotic scene in front of you. It wasn’t exactly armageddon or some alien invasion from years ago, but it was a nightmare considering Ellie and your dad were deeply involved with the intent to stop it altogether. 

Beams of blue light lit up the street and set fire to whatever they hit: cars, trashcans, and nearly people just trying to get to safety. Many stayed in their cars too paralyzed with fear to try to fight for their life against men with superpowered guns. Police were way out of their depth trying to round up the assailants with handguns and authority no one cared for. 

“Are you crazy?” A woman yelled behind you, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you down to where she was crouched. The impact of your back to the brick wall was enough to pull you out of your haze. You turned your head to see the woman just as scared as you were, curled up and ducked low in hopes she wouldn’t get hit. 

You were itching to get up and find Ellie and your dad, but what good would that do? Both were too stubborn to leave everyone else to their own devices and both believed the city depended on them. And neither of them were bulletproof, or immune to whatever was coming out of those guns. 

“S-stay here,” You shot up to your feet, crouching down behind a line of cars parked against the sidewalk. You clung onto the cars for dear life, the mix of adrenaline and anxiety making your limbs feel like jelly. Like there was too much energy for your body to hold. 

The sound of terror was strangely familiar to the city of New York and even more to you. Once again you were in the middle of danger and Ellie made it her mission to resolve it. The messed up sense of deja vu knocked you back on your bum, leaving you to push yourself back up with shaky hands. 

The sound of a trash can being rattled and snatched made you straighten your back in the slightest, just to see. There she was, Spiderwoman, sweeping the group of attacking men with the object just to get them off their feet. She released a spray of numerous webs, leaving them stuck to the ground before she looked around for more. 

You couldn’t see her under the mask, but her shoulders tensing was enough of an indication that she wasn’t happy to see you, not here. Her breath seemed to get heavier as she stared back at you, not hearing the screams of her name. It wasn’t until you stood up, throwing yourself out in the open to kick one of the guns far from the hands of the restrained men on the ground that she realized her inaction wasn’t helping. She turned to the source of the sounds, a mix of your father and a couple trying to get out of their blazing car, and headed towards them but not without a second glance at you. 

You looked around, assessing the damage like there was something you could do to fix it yourself. The men were everywhere, too focused on terrorizing each other than to be remorseful about the damage they were causing. They were hellbent on destroying each other and for what? Without thinking, you picked up the gun you had kicked closer to you and ran to the nearest pair, hitting one of them in the back of their knees. 

As soon as he had gone down, the other was on you. You had attempted to hit him the same, but he just knocked the gun away like it was a pesky fly. The action gave you time to look at the glowing attachment on his arm. It was strange: connected to his skin and pulsing an amber hue every time he moved. He was strong. Strong enough to send the man on the floor flying into a car with one kick. You didn’t wanna know what he was going to do to you. 

You stepped back and mentally began bracing yourself for impact. When your back hit the wall, you assumed that was it, until he was yanked back from you within a few seconds. You had never been happier to see Ellie, except for the time you had been dangling from scaly hands. You leaned against the wall in relief as the man was webbed to a random car.

Ellie landed right next to you. “That was stupid. Incredibly stupid–” 

“I know. You don’t think I know that?” You slid down to sit on the pavement, legs giving out from stress. Breaths came out interrupted by wheeze-like coughs, as you pushed your back against the wall, wishing to be back home where it was safe. Awkward, but safe. “Is it over?”

“The police should have the rest.” She crouched down to your curled up form, gloved hand grabbing your hand firmly. The texture was grounding as you felt it going over each of your knuckles. “Let’s go home.”

Ellie discarded her hood and mask as she crawled through the window after you. She spared her usual glance around to see if anyone saw and immediately closed the window behind her, blocking out the noises of the streets below. The quiet hum of your shared apartment should’ve been comforting after hearing a mix of screams, horns, and the crackle of flames. Instead it only intensified the tense feeling between you.

“Why’d you come?” Ellie decided to face it head on, plopping onto the couch before remembering how particular you were about furniture and standing on her feet. She’d take off the suit later. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” The words sounded strangled and confused coming from your scratchy vocal cords irritated from smoke. You had peeled off your jacket and shoes, convinced removing all your extra layers would suddenly make your limbs more stable. When that didn’t work, you leaned against the counter for support. “You and dad ran off..right into the fire and I was supposed to stay back?” 

“Would’ve saved me the stress.” Ellie’s eyes were glued to your back, wishing she could absorb all of the nerves from your body and replace it with that same optimism you left the house with. She stepped behind you slowly, hand gently rubbing your back in big circles. 

It took everything in you not to leap into her arms and bury your face into her neck and scold her for scaring you like that. Again and surely not for the last time. You stuck with gripping the counter for dear life and leaning back into her hand, sucking in a shaky breath in an attempt to finally calm down. “Hey, I was fine.” Her voice fell into a soft whisper. “I’m fine now,”

“But you weren’t.” You blurted.

Ellie’s whole body tensed, now confronted with the elephant in the room you’d both been ignoring. Her hand had stopped its motion at how choked up your voice sounded. She once again felt like there wasn’t enough she could say to take that fear from you, and that feeling was killing her. “I’m fine now. I-I’m okay, I promise.” She inwardly cringed at how encouraging she tried to sound when she couldn’t even subscribe to the thought herself. The truth was every time she put on that suit she had a chance of not coming back. And you both knew that. 

“You were passed out in that..A-and I didn’t know what to do.” You turned around, glancing at her in said suit. She had been a hero tonight, saving innocent families from getting hurt due to some careless villain of the week. Not only tonight but for years. The first time you’d seen her, relief had snuck up on you like a bad cold. She had saved your life before you even loved her. “Shit,”

She said your name in that same whispery tone before, as if speaking louder would send you into shock. Her fingers had a mind of their own, digging into her palm with the same amount of pressure she felt in her chest. She never wanted it to come down to choosing between the mask and you. She couldn’t and you’d never ask her to do that. Right? 

“I can’t stop you, can I?”

Ellie furrowed her brows at your response. This wasn’t going how she wanted it to. “Look, I-” She ran her hand through her hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. Of course, she just had to be bad at words in a moment like this.  “You gotta know I wouldn’t leave you behind for anything. I wouldn’t risk it without a good reason–”

“I’d say saving the city is a hell of a reason.” You pushed yourself off the counter, feeling stable enough to walk without the possibility of tripping, and over to her. The wrinkle in her brows softened as you pulled her hand from her hair and intertwined your fingers. Your other hand came to cup her face, thumb rubbing a dark spot of smoke on her freckled skin. 

“Yeah, but you sound like you’re breaking up with me.” She mumbled, pathetically leaning into your hand. She had already been through this once with Dina. Though, she wasn't a hero. She was just a girl looking to avenge her dad and it changed her. By the time she pulled herself out of that and decided to use her abilities for good, it was too late. She knew the mask complicated things, even if it was unintentional. 

“I’m not saying that,” You said quickly, like the notion was completely absurd. 

Ellie’s heart jumped in relief. Her eyes flicked between yours, looking for any signs you were just placating her. She still couldn’t believe it when she hadn’t found any. It would have to catch up to her one day, it always did. “Then what are you saying?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. But I’m not breaking up with you because you’re..” Your eyes trailed down to her suit, the webbed patterns distinct in the dim light of the kitchen. The logo on her chest could still be seen through the splotches of smoke and soot that stuck from the fire. It wasn’t exactly a bat symbol that shined in the sky, but you could see it on anyone: kids who wanted to look like their favorite superhero, people who wanted to show their appreciation for the person who had their back should they run into trouble, anyone. “A hero. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna worry like hell.”

Ellie was hoping you hadn’t noticed how she started to tear up. She hated crying, much less in front of someone else. “Shit.” She brought her hand up to cover yours. “I might need you to say that again,” She chuckled.  

“You’re crazy if you think I’d leave you right now,” Or ever, you wanted to say. Your hands were gentle in cupping her face ready to wipe the tears that threatened to drop. You swiped your thumbs over her freckled skin, enjoying the feeling of knowing she was here and okay. 

Ellie soaked in the affection and leaned her forehead onto yours. She breathed in the scent of you mixed with the smell of burning. It didn't matter, you were still here. Her hands dropped to your waist to bring you closer to her as if being any closer was possible. “Please don’t.” 

“So how does this work?” You laid back against Ellie’s chest in the fresh clothes and newly cleaned skin. The bedroom was dim with the light of the city shining through the window next to the bed. Just enough light for you to see her eyes focused on studying your hair. 

“How does what work?” Her voice was quiet, like she was on the precipice of falling asleep at any moment. You wouldn’t blame her, between meeting your parents and saving families, today had been a lot for one woman. Even a super-powered one.

“Spider-womaning. Heroing. Whatever you wanna call saving people.” You tilted your head up to look at her. 

“Well. Sometimes I listen to police radios. Other times, I just get this..feeling, I don’t know how to describe it.” She looked up as she tried to find the words to make it clear. Truth be told she’d been doing this so long, she hadn’t even needed to think before getting out in the field. Years of experience had instilled a silent confidence in her when it came to this. Not that she didn’t have her doubts. 

“Which explains how you and Dad always end up in the same place.”

“Well, I don’t mean to be a pain in his ass all the time.” A sleepy smile came to her face briefly before something more serious came around. “I just hope I redeemed myself.” She mumbled, absentmindedly chewing on her lip. She had worked hard just to get your dad not to arrest her much less work with her and now he was under the impression she had just given up. That wouldn’t do. 

“Of course you did. You’re back.” You reached up to pull her bottom lip from her teeth and press a quick kiss to her lips to soothe the skin. “And I won’t hold you back anymore.” You murmured against her lips. 

Ellie frowned. “I don’t want you to think of it that way.” You were never holding her back. In fact, the opposite. She was aware it was quite a stereotypical thing to say, but you really did make her life better. “I, honestly, don’t blame you for not wanting me to go out there. It’s–”

“Admirably stupid and heroic?” You finished for her, scooting back down to lay on her stomach and press kisses there to make up for your blunt tease. You were careful to around her scar, still wary of hurting her no matter how fast she’d healed. 

“I was gonna say dangerous. Wow, bug, tell me how you really feel.” Ellie chuckled from your words and the kisses on her slightly (very) ticklish stomach. Her hand cupped your head, thumb swiping over your cheek a few times before taking place under your chin. 

“Aren’t I such a good girlfriend?” You came back up to face her, placing those same kisses all over her face until she was laughing uncontrollably. The sound of her genuine laughter made up for the fear you’d been put through earlier tonight, or yesterday you should say. 

“Yeah, yeah the best. Get down here, you.” Her voice was rough from laughing her guts out. 

“We can’t go to bed yet, I have questions.”

“Tomorrow, please.”

Ten hours later you woke up drowning in covers and stirring, trying to convince your body to get up. It was harder when you started to shiver at the cold air of the house the moment you kicked off the covers. Though the spot next to you wasn’t any warmer. The cool feel of the spot next to you made you sit up faster than you intended. 

Sleepy eyes were no help in searching for Ellie, so you rolled out of bed and carefully padded your way into the living room. You could guarantee she was on her computer, hunched over the and knee-deep into the rabbithole she’d been going down for who knows how long. 

Unsurprisingly, there she was sprawled out on the couch eyes laser focused on the bright screen. So much so that she didn’t seem to notice you until you sat next to her.

“No, good morning, hey, hello?" You grumbled, still trying to wipe the sleep out your eyes.

Ellie snapped out of her trance and wrapped her arms around you, placing a kiss on your temple. “Good morning, grumps.” She smelled sweet, probably from your lotion she absentmindedly grabbed all the time. In her defense, the scent reminded her of you. Plus, she needed all the fragrance she could get to get the smell of smoke out her nose.

“Morning, spidey.” You leaned into her arms. Your yawn came out muffled against her chest. So did her fake annoyed groan against your head.

“Oh, here we go.” She moved her computer off her lap, letting you replace the weight.

“What? I can call you that now. Speaking of, I still have questions.” You pulled back, making Ellie let out what you could describe as a whine. “Hey,” You grabbed her chin, trying to school the amusement on your face. “It’s tomorrow.”

“So?” She sounded like a petulant child, pulling away from your hand and hiding her face in the warmth of your neck. It was funny to think there was ever a time when things were awkward and new between you. 

“You have to answer my spidey questions.” 

“It’s too early,” Ellie half grumbled, half whined into your skin. 

“Ellie,” You mimicked her tone, pulling a few giggles out of yourself. 

“Fine, hit me.” Ellie came up for air, resting her chin on your chest to look at you. Her eyes were dark in the room dimmed by thick curtains, but still you could see the awe in them, the full attention she was giving you. 

“How long have you been spidey?” You fingers distracted themselves in her messy hair she hadn’t bothered to come out before bed last night. She’d barely done anything but shower and ease her aching muscles into the bed. This morning the opposite. 

"If you call me that again, I'll web you to this wall–”

“Kinky.” You teased.

“Ew.” Her features turned up into a disgusted frown as if she was a prude. Far from it, but you’d keep that thought in your mind. She laughed with you until she decided to really take in your question. She hadn’t thought about the whole span of her career before. It was a day to day thing that took a toll on her, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. "Since I was…15, actually. Wow,” Her voice grew soft. 

“That long?” You tried to picture a 15 year old Ellie risking her life to safe people when she was just figuring out how to live hers. It was scary, admirable, but scary as hell to think about. “Did your dad know?” You asked delicately. 

Her muscles tensed at the mention. She had done her fair share of work to try to heal from the experience of not being able to save Joel. That didn’t make it any easier to talk about him, but she tried to focus on the good things, all the memories she had of him taking care of her. Him being here. That didn’t stop her brain from coming up with things she could’ve and should’ve done that night. “I’m not sure. Think he just thought something was wrong,” Ellie messed with a random string from your shirt, choosing to focus on that. “Kinda wish I would’ve told him.” Might’ve saved him, she chose not to say. 

Seeing the shift in her mood wasn’t unexpected no matter how delicately you had tried to bring it up, but it still made your heart clench. “15..that’s young.”

“Being bit by a spider literally changed my life. Sounds like some fucked up origin story,” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the sound of it. She wasn’t looking to be a hero when she got bit, she was just snooping around where she shouldn’t have been.

“That’s how it happened?” You pulled back to look if she was just teasing you, but there was no signs of it. In fact, she was making fun of herself. “I thought— Well, I dunno what I thought but wow,”

“You thought I was born with webs coming out of my wrists?” She looked at you with a raised brow.

“They come out of you?” You blurted. 

“Yeah, what’d you think?” Ellie said nonchalantly as you grabbed her wrists and inspected them. She had done the same the moment she figured out she could do it, only the wonder on your face was the opposite of her reaction. 

“That you had machines in your suit or something.” You flipped her wrists over palm facing up and still you didn’t see anything different. “Are you, like, part spider?”

Ellie leaned back on the couch, very amused with your fascination. “No! Maybe. I don’t know—“ She was interrupted by the sudden pressure on a sensitive spot within her veins. Her cheek reddened at the surprised stutter that fell from her mouth. "O-okay, that's enough of that."

You stopped, eyes widening. “Does that hurt?” 

“Uh, nope.” She cleared her throat in an attempt to hide the spreading blush across her cheeks. Her lips were folded into a thin line and you swore she started to smile. “Doesn’t exactly hurt.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow, pinning your bottom under your teeth in an attempt not to smile. An attempt that went out the window the longer you looked at each other and the moment Ellie pinched your side. “Ow!” The exaggerated sound came out in a loud giggle that drowned out Ellie’s light scolding of your earlier teasing. It was only when it died down that you could both hear the constant beeping coming from her computer. 

While the sound only brought confusion to your face, Ellie’s features hardened into a focused, determined expression. She patted your leg in a signal for you to get off her lap. Intrigued by the whole display, you obliged. She replaced your warmth with the cold, beeping laptop and clicked a few keys until a soundwave bar popped up. The audio was loud and yet scratchy as you both tried to listen. Most of the cop speak meant nothing to you, but it had Ellie scrambling for her suit. “What? What is it?” You blurted. 

“Those guys from last night, they’re back. Or, other guys? Doesn’t matter, they’re stirring shit up again. People are gonna get hurt.” She was quick to shimmy into the suit, the red and blue fabric sticking to her skin. She was about to slip on her mask when you reached up to smooth hair down. The hardened determination softened as she laid her eyes on you. “I won’t be long,” She squeezed her mask in her hands.

“I know.” The words were simple, but it took a great deal to say. To trust that she’d come back exactly how she was leaving. But the yelling coming from her computer was a hell of a motivator. “I trust you.” You said, giving her a brief kiss. 

Ellie ached to pull you back towards her, but she knew now wasn’t the time. So, she took one last look at you before pulling her mask over her head and opening the window behind her. There was ease in the way she jumped off the fire escape and swung away. You just hoped she was as careful as she promised. 

Itching to do something you’d begun to distract yourself with cleaning around the house. The activity was only physically taxing on your sore muscles, not your brain. Your ears still perked up at the constant updates coming from the news channel you’d quickly turned on soon after Ellie left. The thought of what she was doing now never left your mind even as you surrounded yourself with the clutter of a being a few months moved in. 

A call to your mom had you pacing for a total of 20 minutes until the woman was pulled from you by work. There weren’t nearly enough dishes in the kitchen to keep you busy long enough and your shared bedroom was only burdened by the clothes from last night, both tasks that were done very early on in this cleaning purge, leaving you on option: The closet you’d stuffed with everything you didn’t want to deal with at the time. 

There was just one problem. You knew what was in there besides old sweaters and boxes of comics Ellie had been too attached to discard of. It had rolled out the small space when you tried to ignore it and it had ended up in the hands of determined gangsters when you refused to acknowledge it further. It sure as hell wouldn’t go away any time soon. 

So you pulled on some gloves and took in a deep sigh to prepare yourself. It was only an orb the size of a marble and yet it had the power to melt the metal of care upon contact. Wasn’t deadly at all. Couldn’t possibly be. 

The delusion almost had you laughing until you laid your eyes on the little blue thing. Should you even still have this? What if it blew you and your apartment into pieces the moment you touched it? This orb had been in Ellie. That was the scariest part. 

Still, you’d set it carefully in a small sauce dish and stared at it until you heard the window open and close. A stranger could’ve walked in and your focus still would’ve been on the tiny sphere. 

“Babe,” Ellie greeted you breathily. She pulled off her mask and kissed you on the cheek, sliding her hands around your waist to bring you closer to her. She was eager to feel you after being in the middle of chaos for the last hour and a half. So much so that she didn’t notice your inattention until she pulled back to look at you. “Hey,” She grabbed your chin to make you look at her. “What’s wrong—“ She followed your line of sight and froze.

“What the hell is that doing here?”

thank you for reading!

[captainlondonman]

HiViz Carl

Carl stood on the crowded underground platform and thought 

‘Yet again, it’s always so bloody full. I hate being stuck against all these people but every night it’s the same thing.’

The Tube rolled into the station and everyone jostled to get on board as soon as the doors opened, Carl like the others pushing to make sure he got on. He was wedged in unable to move or turn. As the Tube moved out of the station into the tunnel he was suddenly aware that someone behind him seemed to have a lump against his bum. He could only slightly turn but out the side of his eye he could see it was a bloke in full orange Hiviz. He was big and seemed to tower over Carl. As the tube rocked back and forwards he was suddenly aware that the lump was getting bigger as it pressed more and more into his arse. Not only was it pressing harder but he could feel the heavy nylon sliding back and forth across his arse cheeks. The lump was no longer a lump but he could feel a long thick shaft straining to get into his crack. It wasn’t just a thick shaft but felt like a log and he could feel it moving around inside the HiViz trousers. Feeling this pole tight against him and knowing no one else knew what was happening had Carl’s cock rigid. He had to place his hands over his  heavy shaft so no one would notice or feel. He wanted this Hiviz guy to himself. The guy was pressing harder and harder and Carl could feel the smell of him, it was heavy with sweat and dirt. The guy was almost now leaning over him and he could feel the breath of cigarettes against his neck. Carl began to respond and pushed his arse back so he could feel the full length of the guy’s dick. He could feel the nylon sliding back and forwards. He moved from side to side and slightly up and down with the movement of the Tube. Christ he wanted that guys cock up his arse, to be riden by this massive cock.

He could feel the guy’s breathing harder and harder and his own cock pressed against his hand made him aware that there was a damp patch from his precum as he was now so worked up. Carl was suddenly aware that a pair of hands were exploring the opening of his trouser pocket trying to push their way inside. He was helpless to do anything as he had to keep his own hands over his rigid pole. The thick hand started moving down inside his trousers until they were able to grab not only his balls but the other hand was holding Carl’s cock which had fully inched down inside his trousers. Carl looked down and could see the Hiviz jacket around his front the hands now fully down inside working his cock and balls. Instinctively Carl pushed even harder against the guy’s cock with greater rythmn the more his cock was rubbed.

‘Shit I’m on the tube and this guy is about to make me cum and I can’t stop myself, I just want to explode regardless of the mess. The Guy now almost had his mouth at Carl’s neck the breathing even harder and quicker. Above the noise of the tube Carl heard a voice say quietly

‘o one let yourself go, think of my dick up that lovely arse of yours. Think of me in full Hiviz behind you and how great it would be for you in Hiviz the two of us fucking together. Let me hand jerk you off ,you know it’s what you want. You love being taken like this. None but me knows you are about to shoot your load. So go for it mate let my hand feel that cum of yours running down your leg.’

Hearing the guy talk dirty was too much and with one last shove backwards into the HIviz covered cock Carl came and shot his bolt the spunk running down his leg.

‘Christ how am I gonna to get out with all this spunk’ was his immediate thought but part of him couldn’t care. He has just had this real Hiviz workie jack him off with no one knowing.

The guy leant forwards and whispered into his ear

‘Take  this HiViz vest and cover all that spunk on your trousers. By the way when you get home check your trouser pocket.’ 

Putting the HiViz vest in front of him Carl moved to get out of the Tube, and already he could feel his cum starting to harden on his legs. He didn’t dare look down to see what mess there was seeping through his trousers but he wanted to look round and see the workie who had given him the best wank ever. The guy he could quickly see was tall and thick set , a muscle guy with shaved head and heavy facial growth. As Carl looked at him the guy winked and smirked mouthing ‘see you soon mate’

As soon as Carl got home he took off his trousers to wash but put his hand into the pocket as instructed. There was a small box with 3 pills and a note on the top saying Take one each night when going to bed. Attached to the box was a note

Go to the Public Toilets in Brewer Street at 6.30 tomorrow. Don’t be late.

Christ how did the guy manage all this when they we rammed up against one another in the Tube. But he had. Thinking of the Hiviz workie started making his cock hard again but he decided to save up his spunk for another wank later.

Going to bed he took one of the pills not knowing what they were but feeling the guy was not trying to hurt him especially if he said see you again. In no time Carl was asleep and he started having vivid dreams of big workies in full hi viz all having sex, fucking, wanking, sucking, all in dirty gear, smoking their ciggies, swearing, being everything Carl was not but as he slept so his cock was so rigid it almost hurt him. He had never had such dreams and never had such a boner. When he woke he realised that he had had a wet dream and was lying in his crispy cum. As he came to he felt different but could not work it out but there was something of a change in him. Stumbling out of bed he looked at himself in the mirror.

He had changed. His body had bulked out not a lot but there was more shape , a 6 pack and wide shoulders, he was definitely taller, his hair was much darker and he had a heavier facial growth. Best of all his cock seemed a big longer and definitely thicker. 

‘I look bloody fantastic’ he thought to himself.

Carl kept thinking of his instructions for the Public Toilets and every time he thought of what had happened on the Tube and what might happen today , his cock was stiff and so hard but he decided not to wank so he had his balls full of cum for the evening.

Just before the time Carl arrived at the Toilets. There was no one around. He opened the door and went in but there was no sign of anyone. Suddenly the door banged shut behind him and he could hear the door being locked.

‘So you came’ he heard a voice boom out. Carl turned round and it was not the guy from the Tube but another. He was also massive and in Full Hiviz, an orange jacket and trousers and rigger boots. He had a full beard and close cropped hair. His belly was sticking out and caused his dirty T shirt to rise so Carl could see the hairy chest.

‘Next step forward for you mate’ he said rubbing his crotch.  ‘I hear you liked me mate rubbing his dick across yer crack. He’s got a fucking great cock. And mine ain’t bad either. Hope you like the smell of piss which is why you are here. Fucking rank ain’t it.’ 

Sure enough Carl’s lungs felt the bitter heavy smell of piss

The workie rubbed his big hands over his crotch and unzipped.

‘Not time to take it out yet. I want you to get on yer knees and check out my dirty jock. Get down now’

He shouted.

Carl was in a haze but knew he had to obey. He got down in front of the workie his face close to the jockstrap. He could see the jockstrap was already straining with the workies cock and balls. But it was the overriding smell of stale piss and a cock that had not been washed in days. Cheesy, dirty, andthe jock yellow from all the piss stains. For a moment Carl almost wanted to throw up but there was no getting out of it and the more he inhaled the more he liked the smell. He wanted to get his mouth around the jockstrap and let his saliva mix with all the piss.

‘That’s it mate get your mouth on my jock and gobble.’

Carl started to lick the fabric and it was like drinking pure piss. It was bitter but fuck it tasted great. 

‘I said gobble boy.’

Putting his hands up to feel the heavy balls, Carl put his mouth around the cock and started to suck. The more his saliva washed over the material the more the piss became stronger and the workies cock started quickly to get bigger and thicker until Carl was almost choking.

‘Just as I thought mate you love the taste of piss and a rancid cock. Dirty bugger but that’s how I like me blokes. Now get me out of me jock and you can see my fucking heavy balls and thick dick.’

Carl took both his hands and pulled out the jock letting the workies cock spring out. He was right it was massive a good 9” uncut and thick but his boner was so hard that the foreskin was already peeling back to show a shiny head.

‘You ain’t sucking this one mate but I can see you loved the smell and taste of my piss so you can drink all I’ve got stored up. This is a fucking toilet for guys to piss in so that’s what I’m gonna do and you can be my bloody piss bowl. Now sit back. As me shaft is nice and hard this is gonna come out like a fucking fountain so get that mouth of yours up close. Whatever you don’t take is gonna run down you and it would be a shame to waste any of my piss. Open that fucking mouth of yours wide.’

Carl had never had a golden shower before but having sucked the stale piss from the workie’s jockstrap he knew this is what he really wanted now.

‘Ready boy its coming, open wide.’

It was like a bloody fountain and suddenly the deep yellow piss erupted from the workie’s cock horizontally, gushing out into Carl’s mouth. For a second there was a burning sensation at the back of his throat but he had to swallow and fast as the piss was steaming out of the workies cock. But there was so much he could not gulp it down fast enough. It started to run down his shirt front, but he managed to swallow harder so there was not a full stream of piss running down him. In fact the taste he loved so much he was gulping down ever faster.

‘Shit mate I’ve never see a guy take piss like you. Just as well I filled myself up before seeing you.’

The stream started to slow down until it was dripping and then the workie shook his cock so the piss drops spattered over Carl’s face

Carl sat back exhausted as the workie put his hand put and pulled him up so they faced each other. He pressed Carl against him so he could feel the guys wet cock rub against his own hard crotch. The workie put his hands around Carl’s neck and pulled him in to tongue him hard. 

‘Great to kiss and taste me own piss. Well mate you look a bit of a mess so take this dirty vest and wipe yourself but don’t get home and wash it. Also put on this Hiviz jacket I brought along. It’ll cover you up. Probably a bit big just for now. So I’ll leave you but take this note and be on time.’

The workie unlocked the door and went out leaving Carl to read the note:

Be at the bin area behind the offices on Bridge Street tomorrow at 6.30.

What was going on. First the guy on the tube, now this in the Public Toilets and now a meeting at the bins tomorrow. Can’t figure it out but it sure is exciting. Putting on the Hiviz which was on the big side Carl went home hoping no passerby could smell the piss on him though he loved it and hadn’t bothered to use the dirty T shirt to wipe it off him.

Going to bed he took another pill and kept his piss stained shirt on. He wanted to feel the workie letting rip from that big cock of his. Again all night he could only dream of sex with workies. Who else could be as good in different ways. Next morning he felt again different and checked himself out. He was now even bigger and had real muscle definition . not only that but his chest was covered with a thin film of dark hair from the base of his neck all the way down and round his cock and balls. His cock was also bigger and better still thicker. Having had an uncut cock he was now cut with a massive head much wider than his haft. The arms were now with a dark hair covering and his hair was shorter but curly. It still seemed his face behind the heavy 2 day growth  but it was as if his dream of being a real muscle boy was coming true and he loved being more hairy. He tried on the HiViz jacket and it was a better fit than last night though still a bit big.

He impatiently waited for later in the day and decided that for his meeting he would wear the dirty ripped T shirt wiich smelt of stale body odour and sweat as well as the  Hiviz vest and jacket. But now none of his trousers fitted him with his increased size  plus his arse had become a real rounded bum but he managed  to find an old pair of joggers. Even his underpants were now tight so he decided to go commando and let this larger cock of his show itself off. He didn’t give a fuck who might see. A cock that size is something to be proud of he thought. Let it swing from side to side as I walk

At 6 he found the large bins behind the office building and between them a workie was standing smoking a ciggie. It was yet another workie. This one  was a young guy, in full orange Hiviz like the other two with  only a Hiviz vest so carl could see his muscled body and hairy chest. His hair was long and tied back with a heavy black beard. His arms were even more muscled than his chest with thick dirty hands. He was wearing a pair a dirty waders which came up to his crotch. His flies were open and his hand was inside playing with himself.

‘Thought I’d give myself a good rub while waiting for you mate. Jed who wanked you off on

 the tube told me what a randy little bugger you are and Pete who let you drink his piss said you couldn’t gulp it down quick enough. So we have another task for you in amongst the stinking bins. All us workies like bins and the smell  and dirt.’

With that the workie put his hand further down his trousers and pulled out his half hard cock.

‘So mate I need to good suck and I want this big prick of mine all the way down your throat. I want you to almost gag cause once I’m fully hard I’m big man and these balls of mine haven’t been emptied for a couple of days so you’ll need to swallow a hell of a lot. So get down on your knees and tell me whose cock you like best but looking at you I reckon as long as its big that’s OK by you.’

Carl watched at the workie stroked his shaft seeing his semi hard big dick swell to be fully erect and at least 9” and probably larger than Pete’s certainly a thicker shaft. Seeing the guys cock stretching out from his HiViz trousers was all Carl needed to get down and put his firm hand around the width of the prick. 

‘Lemme hold mate,’ Carl said already drooling at the thought of sucking the dick.

‘Hope you can get your hand around mate, its big.’

‘It sure is and bigger than Pete’s.’

‘Shit man look at your face your fucking keen to swallow me. Bet you like wearing the HiViz don’t you.

‘Makes me feel more like a workie and better here in among the refuse carts. Me part workie gear and seeing that cock of yours jutting out from your gear is all I want.’

‘Good man that’s what I wanna hear.’

‘Get my balls out and have a good feel. You’ll see how heavy they are with cum that will go all the way down that throat of yours. That’s it, give em a good squeeze and yank then down. Don’t be afraid a bit of pain never did harm to anyone.’

Carl pulled hard and the workie flinched with pain.

‘Fucking great man now get you mouth working my head I want you to get yer spit all the way around it, and make sure you get your tongue into my slit. I like feeling it being opened up with spit.’

Carl let his tongue work its way around the pulsating head and then grabbing the guys shaft put his tongue deep into the cock slit filling it with his spit.

‘Fucking hell mate no need to ram yer tongue all the way up but it feels fucking great. Now get going on my full dick.’

Carl let his breathing start slowly knowing he would have to make every effort to take the full length but for now he worked his tongue all the way around the head letting the guy start to moan with pleasure. He opened his mouth wider and let his throat take in the shaft gently, the guy arching back with pleasure. The more the cock entered his mouth the more Carl wanted it all the way down his throat. He wanted the workie’s cum to shoot all the way down to the pit of his stomach and taste very drop.

‘That’s it mate get it all the way down. I want to feel it all the way down that throat of yours. Looks as if you need a helping hand.’

And with that he put his hands around Carl’s head and pushed his face into his cock brutally so that Carl gagged.

‘Stop the fucking gagging mate just breathe and it will slide all the way down.’ With the spit bubbling of out his mouth Carl took all the cock.

‘I fucking knew you’d take it all mate. Soon as I saw that big mouth of yours. It’s had a few cocks down it before.’

Carl could feel the guy’s pubes brushing against his lips. He was all the way down and he took hold of the workie’s balls and yanked to let him know he was fully in control.

‘That’s it boy squeeze those balls to make my cum ready. Let me move that head of yours in and out, nice and slow so I feel the spit washing over my shaft.

That’s good, now let’s speed things up a bit as I’m loving this and my cocks telling me its nearly time.’

Carls own cock was so fucking hard he wanted to cum as well and with his other hand he was stroking his dick though his joggers, loving feeling the material rubbing up and down his shaft. He knew he was also almost ready to shoot.

‘I can see you mate working yourself off. I want you to fucking well cum in those pants of yours. That’s it lemme see you jack yourself as you suck me.

Shit man I’m fucking ready. Take all my fucking cum, Christ I’m cumming.’ The workie let rip with all the stored up cum in his heavy balls and Carl could feel it shooting down his throat, salty and creamy, and thick. There was so much he couldn’t take it all and some started oozing out his mouth down his chin. The workie was groaning hard and hearing him and taking the full cum load was too much for Carl and he shot wad after wad of cum into his joggers, the cum seeping out and all down his inside leg.

As Carl let his mouth part from the workies cock he kept licking all the remains of the cum his lips covered in cum.

‘Shit man you can sure suck best blow job for a while. Looking at you you’d better put on these hiviz trousers over your joggers which look pretty messed up with all that cum of yours. As a thank you take this pair of rigger boots. Finally mate expect to see you tomorrow at 5. You’ll know where to come after tonight.’

Zipping up his trousers the workie started to move off. ‘What a fucking bloke this one is’. He said.

Carl wiped his mouth but wanted to savour the bitter taste of the workie’s cum as long as possible. At least this time he had shot his bolt  and again he could feel his cum running down inside his leg in the joggers. Thank God the workie had given him the hiviz trousers.

When he got home he realised there was only one pill left to take and feeling well and truly done from his blow job he went off to bed not knowing where he was meant to go the next day but the guy seemed certain that somehow he would know.

Again it was night full of erotic dreams of workies in full gear and it seemed as if his cock was on fire it was so stiff. He got out of bed and immediately looked in the mirror.

Bloody hell who was he looking at? As he moved his hands he realised that the reflection was indeed him but the body and everything seemed different. He was now a good 6’3”, and bursting with muscle, a huge pair of pecs with big red erect nipples, muscled arms full of tats, big hands with dirty fingernails. Shit what a bubble arse. He felt he could almost balance a tray on it. His whole body was covered in a mass of dark curly hair and when he turned the hair was over and well into his arse crack. His cock we even bigger, now over 9” with such a meaty shaft and his balls hung down far looking as though they had been pumped up. What he could not believe was the large thick steel cock ring. Where the fuck had that come from but it made his prick look even bigger and not just bigger but his dick was sticking out big time. His hair was short and very curly but it was the thick black beard that so shocked him, as curly as his head hair.

‘Fucking hell’ he shouted and as he shouted he realised that his voice had totally changed. It was much deeper and had a strong Midland accent. He talked as if he was a local Brummie lad. He just stared and stared at his reflction and started to rub his hands over his body. He was sex on legs and when he put his hands down to his dick it started to throb and the shaft lifted until not only was it quickly horizontal but it was fucking sticking upright like a bloody flagpole.

None of his clothes were going to fit him so how the hell was he going to get out for his meeting. Then he realised that he now had a full set of orange Hiviz which up to now was always on the big side for him Surely at least these would fit. He laid everything out and opened up the rigger boots to see a pair of stained white socks which smelt so cheesy but he had to wear them. Knowing they may belong to someone else made him feel even hornier. Then he put on the HiViz trousers from last night. They were the perfect fit and there was room in them for his huge cock to stick straight out. He then struggled into the tight fitting stained T shirt which showed his nipples big time, then the vest and after the jacket. All a perfect fit. Finally he put on the worn rigger boots and tied themn p. Standing in front of the mirror he looked every inch the muscle workie, who worked on a building site and he realised he was looking at the person he had been dreaming about for the last few nights. He was the image of the guy who made him feel so horny all night. He was the image of the man and workie that he wanted to be not just look like but to be in every way. This was the dream come true. In full Hiviz gear there was only one place he was meant to be at and he knew.

He walked across town in his full gear and noted the number of people who started at him. He knew he looked so fucking great and no doubt some were looking at his cock swinging about in his HiViz trousers. At 5 o’clock he was standing outside the Portacabin. All the workies seemed to have gone home but he knew this was the right place and the right time. He knocked on the door and heard a voice boom out

‘Come in mate.’

He opened the door and walked in Sitting around a table leaning back with their rigger boots on the table were the three Workies from the last three days, Jed, the Tube guy, Pete the piss man and then Ted who he had sucked off the night before.

‘Fucking hell man, welcome, we’ve been waiting for you. You looking fucking amazing lad better than we could have hoped for. How do you feel.’

‘What do you think’, Carl answered, ‘fucking fantastic like a real dirty muscle workie It don’t feel better and it’s all thanks to you lads.’

Jed answered, ‘As soon as that arse of yours touched by dick on the tube I knew what you wanted to be. It didn’t take much to know . And Christ your arse looked good before but now what a fucking great bubble arse you have. The three of us have been waiting for you and we are all feeling fucking horny now we see you. Jed stood up and walked towards Carl. Immediately Carl could see that Jed was more than just horny his cock was horizontal in his HiViz and he had his hand over his cock squeezing his length. He came up to Carl and put his hand over his arse letting it explore the 2 mounds of tight flesh through the heavy nylon. ‘That’s what I call a fucking great arse mate. I was only able to rub against you a few nights ago but now you can take it all mate all the way up. You loved the feel of it before but with my cock between those cheeks of yours you fucking well have me ride you.

The other two guys had taken their legs off the table and with their legs wide open started giving the ‘sother cocks a good rub all the time staring at Carl and Jed.

Jed put his arms around Carl’s waist and undid his flies and as the HiViz dropped so he put his hands down the length of Carl’s shaft.

‘The Cock ring was a good idea eh mate. Shit gives you a real monster there but that fucking arse of yours is amazing.’ Jed took his hands and rubbed them over the hairy buns tweaking them to see how tight they were.

‘That’s one tight pair of cheeks you have there.’ Jed unzipped himself and took out his throbbing cock then buttoned the top so he was still in HiViz but his cock and balls were out, his cock ramrod stiff.

‘Lemme drop some spit onto my shaft and it will be easier for you to take but that hole of yours looks big enough for anything. What you guys doing rubbing one another . Get up and get yer cocks out. We need to give Carl here a good welcome. I want him to feel he has all 3 of us. I’ll fuck, Pete you suck and Ted get that cock of yours back into his mouth. Sounds as if he loved the blow job he gave you last night. 

‘Fuck or suck Jed, I’m up for anything seeing you about to fuck him. My cock itching to cum. Jake took a hand and placed it on Carl’s hairy back pushing him into the bending position, his other hand rubbing his spit up and down his shaft. In the half standing position Ted stood in front giving himself a good rub aiming his cock at carl’s mouth. Meanwhile Pete was on the floor lining himself up to suck Carl off.

Pete said. ‘You’ve given me the hard part with this monster of a cock he has.’

‘Shut the fuck up Pete you’ve sucked a good many cocks before so you know what to do.’

Suddenly Carl felt Jed’s cock push against his slit his hands pulling his cheeks apart to get to the hole. Taking it easy Jed let his cock find the centre of the hole and once there slowly pushed till his thick head was inside. Carl jerked with the initial pain but knew he wanted every inch that Jed had. The other two guys were checking and when they saw Jed’s cock fully in, they went to work.

‘I’m all the way up to the hilt lads so start and that means you Carl need to get Ted’s cock inside you. He’s kept it nice of stinking of stale piss cause he said you loved it. Feeling Jed’s cock inside him he leant forward to Ted the smell of piss filling his nostrils and he remember the piss game they had and he wanted that cock down his throat. As Ted’s cock entered his mouth so he suddenly felt Pete’s mouth touching the tip of his cock. He was licking softly testing him out top see the reaction.

‘Fucking hell Pete don’t just play with me take my full shaft I’m so fucking horny with you guys’.

Ted said  ‘Shut the fuck up and concentrate on my prick and get sucking.’

Jed started to take his cock out and then ram it back up Carl’s arse so he could feel Jed’s pubes against his own hairy arse. As Jed pushed him forward so he took in more and more of Ted’s shaft. Moving forward made Pete take in Carl’s cock further and further down his throat until Pete could feel the taste of the metal cock ring.

The only one who could properly talk was Jed and Ted could only groan with Carl working his mouth up and down the length of his rod.

Jed moaned as he pushed in and out faster and faster saying 

‘What a fucking welcome. The lad’s being speared, sucked and gobbing. Shit man what a four we are. Who’d want to be anything but a fucking workie.’

Jed now grasped Carl’s waist as he fucked harder and harder, the pressure on his waist making Carl suck ever harder feeling the mix of piss and precum in his mouth. Pete had one hand around Carl’s balls as he slid his mouth in and out faster and faster, his other hand working his own cock wanking at the same speed.

‘Come on lads I want us all to shoot our load at the same time a multiple orgasm from us boys OK? Shit I’m ready man.’

Gripping Carl’s waist Jed shot his hot spunk into his arse and Ted seeing Jed cum let fly with with his own  creamy spunk down Carl’s throat. Feeling cum back and front was enough for Carl to shoot the cum from his heavy balls into Pete’s mouth and as the spunk oozed out and down his HiViz jacket so Pete spurted his load shot after shot against Carl’s Hiviz trousers.

After their climax and groaning had subsided they moved apart taking their hands to wipe off the excess cum.

Carl was the first to speak. ‘That was fucking amazing I’ve never had a gang bang like that before. Fucked sucked and sucking, Christ is this what being a workie is all about.’

‘I knew you’d want to be one of us mate. We were looking for a new recruit and you fit the bill perfectly. Shit don’t know how we will ever get any work down. But next time we change over roles and as you were the one fucked you can decide who does what.

‘You are all so fucking great I’ll need to think about.’

‘Well don’t think for too long as we are up for another session later.

Welcome to the workie Hiviz club Carl.’

[pascalislove]

THE CALL: Han Jeong-Won x Fem!Reader~22

Summary: Your arrival would change everything, even if Jeong-Won didn't know it yet.

The kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of spices and freshly cooked ingredients. Y/N, with a radiant smile on her face, stirred the contents of a frying pan while Jeong-Won cut vegetables on the counter next to her. -I think it's ready,Y/N said, looking at the food with satisfaction.

-“Let me try,” Jeong-Won replied with a small smile. Before she could hand him a plate, he reached into the pan, taking a small bite with his fingers and bringing it directly to his lips.

—"Mmm, it's very good," he said with a smile that barely appeared on his usually serious face. Y/N watched him in amusement as he took another bite. This time, instead of eating it, he offered it to her.

-“Open your mouth,” he said softly, his eyes shining with a playful sparkle. Y/N, surprised but amused, obeyed. She closed his lips around her fingers, feeling the warmth of the food and something else: an unexpected closeness. When their eyes met, the world seemed to stop.

The warmth of the kitchen, the previous laughter, and the dim glow of the lights created an intimate moment that neither of them expected.

There was something indescribable in their glances, as if everything they could not say was contained in that simple exchange of glances.

-It's delicious,-Y/N said softly, breaking the spell with a shy smile. Jeong-Won nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off her.

Minutes later, they finished serving and had dinner in a warm and quiet atmosphere. At the end and after washing the dishes together, Jeong-Won broke the silence.

-"It's late," he murmured. "We should go to sleep." Y/N nodded gently.

-You're right. Tomorrow will be another long day.

They both walked in silence towards the hallway. When Y/N began to detour towards her room, Jeong-Won, without saying a word, took her hand gently but without hesitation.

She looked up, surprised, but he didn't stop.

Gently tugging on her hand, he led her towards his own room. Y/N's heart was beating fast, aware of the meaning of that gesture. Since the night they first made love, he had been clear: "Everyone in their own room, no exceptions." But now it was Jeong-Won who broke his own rules. Crossing the threshold, he released her hand only to gently push the door closed behind them. Y/N stared at him, sensing something in his expression that didn't need words.

Without protesting, he simply nodded, understanding that sometimes silence was the most honest confession.

They lay next to each other on the bed, not letting go of each other's hands.

The silence was not uncomfortable; It was a bridge that connected them in a way that needed no explanation. Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the peace that emanated from that simple gesture of being together.

-“Good night, Y/N,” Jeong-Won murmured, his voice soft and relaxed.

-Good night, Jeong-Won,she replied, with a sleepy smile. Their fingers remained intertwined as sleep slowly enveloped them. In that small corner of the world, they found a calm that seemed made just for them.

This story does not follow the plot of the series, tell me if you like it and if you want me to tag you in the chapters🫶

Tag list:

@anamiad00msday , @czarinera , @beebeechaos, @muchwita, @otakusimp1, @aori-aka03-blog, @preppyfella

THE CALL MASTERLIST

[07-riley]

flowers (Simon Ghost Riley one shot | valentine's day special 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader ★ masterlist here ★ valentine's day special 1

She didn’t want to make too much of it; she had never given much importance to relationships, barely having time for that because of her work. But she always thought that if she ever got the chance to go on a date, she simply wouldn't refuse to accept it.

That had happened two months ago. She'd had some sort of date with her lieutenant, then another, and then two more. If what they did could even be called dates—after all, they always ended up doing something that they could enjoy without leaving the base, sometimes it was just impossible to go anywhere. Surprisingly, she had enjoyed each one of those outings. It wasn't that he was intimidating or anything like that. In fact, more than once he had made her laugh during an awkward moment, and he always seemed focused on his work.

Now they had a sort of relationship that went a little beyond just being colleagues. Unlike everyone else on base, she'd stopped calling him "Lieutenant" or "Ghost" now he was Simon to her. She'd seen him without his mask more than once (though the first time had been by accident), and during one of their dates, they’d shared a kiss. But nothing more.

She'd tried hard not to think about Valentine’s Day and wonder if they'd do something together. She knew it wouldn't happen when she overheard the previous morning that Simon would be busy almost all day. If she could, she would have complained to Price, but they weren’t close enough for that kind of joking. He was her superior, after all, and she trusted him enough to ask for a day off when she was with cramps but nothing more.

She pushed the door to her room open, her back aching, just wanting to collapse onto the bed and rest. Her whole body hurt; she had increased her training three days ago, and now it felt like it was killing her. A sigh escaped her lips as she finally fell onto the bed, feeling her muscles relax and…

There was something different.

Her gaze fell on the desk in front of her bed. She usually used it to place clothes she would organize the next morning or papers she needed to review later. But she never used it as an actual desk; it was always covered with clutter, but not now. A part of the desk was cleared, and there was a bouquet of flowers resting on the old wood. It didn’t seem like it had been there long, maybe just a couple of hours.

The first thing she felt was panic. Someone had entered her room—the room she herself had locked when she left that morning, the room whose key only she had.

The flowers were beautiful, she wouldn't deny that. They were tulips, with a sunflower in the middle of the bouquet. Two of her favorite flowers. It could have been a coincidence, but it felt too much like more than just that. She needed to know who had left those flowers there—and more important, who had entered her room.

The first person she asked was Soap. He had been going back and forth all morning, but he was one of the few people still on base. Unfortunately for her, she got no answers. He claimed he hadn't seen anything, though she was almost certain he was lying.

She also got nothing when she questioned a girl in the bathroom whom she barely knew—who only stared at her as if she were insane.

She had no luck either when she casually chatted with one of the cooks or one of the nurses. There weren'’t many people around. Maybe they weren't the best options since they rarely left their work areas, but it didn't hurt to try.

By six in the evening, she slumped onto one of the cafeteria tables. She had spent the entire day running around, thinking she might find someone who had seen who entered her room and left the flowers, but she had gotten nothing. She simply sat there, staring at the sunflower as she twirled it between her fingers.

She was so lost in thought that she barely noticed the new presence beside her. Assuming it was Soap, she didn’t even turn around. After all, he had been the first to find out about her search and one of the few people she trusted the most. Judging by her expression, he probably already knew how fruitless her search had been.

"Did you like the flowers?"

That wasn’t Soap’s voice.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she turned in her seat—only to find none other than her lieutenant standing in front of her. He was still wearing the same uniform when she had seen him leave the base in, meaning he had probably just returned minutes ago.

Her first instinct was to ask how he knew about the flowers, thinking maybe he had seen something. But then she realized… He hadn’t seen anyone leaving her room. He had seen everything because he was the one who had put them there.

"It was you." It wasn’t a question.

Simon shifted slightly, and she could almost swear he had that smirk on his face, the one he always have when he was with her. She had deduced it was his way of showing he was comfortable around someone.

"It was me," he confirmed.

"Why?" She parted her lips, wanting to say something else, but nothing came out. She looked at the sunflower one last time before meeting Simon’s gaze again. She was too shocked—she hadn't even mentally prepared herself to receive anything that day. They had only been on a few dates. They weren’t anything—or at least, that's what she wanted to think. If he was seeing someone else, she would try not to feel hurt.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she had convinced herself that a few dates didn't mean anything, because if she saw him with someone else, she would be disappointed. If she was honest, the thought of date with anyone other than Simon hadn't even crossed her mind.

"I’m not really sure what people do on Valentine’s Day," he admitted. "But I remembered you mentioning your favorite flowers."

"That was on our first date." She tried her best not to look too surprised. Had he remembered every detail about her, or had it just stuck in his mind by accident?

"Do you want me to forget it?"

"No," she laughed. "I liked the flowers. Thank you."

She smiled, looking down at the sunflower in her hand. When she had woken up that morning, she hadn’t expected to receive anything for Valentine’s Day, and this had been a lovely surprise—even if, at first, it had sent her into a panic over someone entering her room.

"We’ll celebrate our Valentine’s on Tuesday."

Her eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t expected anything else after the flowers. If she was honest, she had always thought that what she had with Simon was just a few dates for fun. Even after Soap told her that if Simon hadn't been interested in her, there wouldn't have even been a first date, she had refused to believe it. Maybe she just didn't want to be disappointed if things went wrong.

The flowers weren't all?

"Where are we going?"

"It’s a surprise."

"Is it a surprise, or do you just not have anything planned yet?" she teased.

Simon chuckled as he stood up from the table. He still had a few things to do before heading back to his room and and end his day.

"I've been planning it for over a week." He gave her a look through his mask, holding her gaze for a few seconds before turning to leave. She wanted to say something, to stop him, but no words came out. Besides, she didn't even know what to say. It wasn't like she wanted to argue about it.

For over a week.

She watched as Simon left, disappearing down the hallways. There was a strange feeling in her chest, one she couldn't describe.

On their first date, she had been incredibly nervous. She had called her sister, telling her she had a date with her lieutenant and was scared that it would just be a one-time thing. Her sister had told her that was almost impossible. After all, he was a soldier who didn’t have much free time—if he was taking her on a date, it was because he was genuinely interested.

Maybe she had been wrong and her sister was right. Maybe Simon was more serious about her than she had thought.

[alittlegiraffe]

Hiiiiiii

I wanted to ask, no I wanted to request if you could maybe something like Marshall meets a not much younger woman (like three years younger or something similar) simply in a take coffee shop (let’s do he is their with Hailey and it’s her favourite coffee shop) and reader is the cashier and know Hailey pretty good as they both are friends (maybe because they met somewhere else and just got friends or so) so as she sees Hailey walks in she already make’s Hailey’s usual Coffee abd even before Hailey can get in Line, calls Yn loud through the entire Coffee shop “Hailey” out. (yn is a hard working Person, and often overworks herself to the absolute maximum, often forgets to drink to eat to sleep, but always has a smile on her lips just to kind for the world, let’s also do she doesn’t know she can sing or rap as she was told often by false friends she can’t sing so she stopped and started to think like that) so Hailey gets her coffee and quickly ask for Marshall for some other drink. Yn smiles and nods and start making the drink and hums quietly while doing. Marshall sees potential

From here it’s the best you take over

you don’t have to but it would be nice

A/N: Hey love!!! I hope you like this. This is the story your request inspired!

Title: Sunday Mornings & Second Chances

Every Sunday morning, without fail, Marshall and Hailie walked into the same little coffee shop. It had become their thing—an unspoken tradition that started years ago when she left for college. Now, even though she was grown, they still met here, catching up over coffee and pastries, just the two of them.

And, of course, you.

You owned the shop, and from the moment they became regulars, you had a way of making them feel at home. Maybe it was the way you always remembered their orders—black coffee for Marshall, a caramel latte for Hailie. Or maybe it was your laugh, warm and genuine, the way you teased Marshall when he grumbled about overpriced pastries but still bought one every time.

At first, Marshall didn’t think much of it. He wasn’t looking for anything, especially not in a place like this. But then there were the small things—the way your eyes always seemed to linger on him a second too long, the way you bit your lip when he said something unexpectedly funny, like you were trying not to laugh too hard.

And Hailie noticed.

She never pushed, never said anything outright, but she nudged—just enough.

“You know, Dad, she always seems happy to see you,” Hailie mused one morning, stirring her latte.

Marshall snorted. “She’s nice to everyone.”

“Yeah,” Hailie smirked, “but I don’t see her slipping extra cinnamon rolls to just anyone.”

Marshall glanced down at his plate—sure enough, an extra pastry sat there, one you hadn’t charged him for. He looked up toward the counter where you stood, wiping your hands on a towel, stealing a quick glance at him before looking away.

Huh.

The next week, when Hailie “forgot” her sweater at the shop, she insisted they go back inside to get it—giving Marshall just a little more time to talk to you.

The week after that, she got “caught up” in a long text conversation right as you came over to their table, conveniently distracted so that you and Marshall ended up talking a little longer than usual.

It was so subtle that Marshall barely noticed the pattern. But suddenly, he found himself looking forward to Sundays in a way he hadn’t before.

And then, one morning, he lingered after Hailie left—just for a few minutes.

You raised an eyebrow as you wiped down the counter. “No Hailie today?”

“Nah, she had something to do,” Marshall said, hands in his pockets. “Figured I’d still come by.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Just for the coffee?”

He met your gaze, something shifting in the air between you. “Nah,” he admitted, voice softer this time.

You held his stare for a moment, a flicker of understanding passing between you. And just like that, Marshall realized—maybe Hailie hadn’t been so subtle after all.

[itsnesss]

omg so i’ve had this idea for a while but, imagine pregnant reader in the squid games and she’s jun ho’s wife but instead of being on the boat, he joins the games with gi hun and is shocked to see reader there because he had no idea she was in debt. they have an emotional reunion and maybe she gets pushed out of a room during the mingle game but he saves her. can it be angsty with a fluffy ending ? thank you !! :)

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | pregnant!reader, angst, violence, emotional distress, tense atmosphere

word count | 1.3 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

"The air feels heavy, as if desperation hangs in every corner. You look around and see the same in the faces of all the players: fear, exhaustion, resignation. They're here for the same reason as you. The debts.

Your fingers brush the number embroidered on your jacket.

286.

It's ironic. You never thought you'd end up here, in this hell, betting your life for money. And yet, here you are, with an even heavier burden on your shoulders.

Instinctively, one of your hands rests on your abdomen.

It’s not too noticeable yet, but you feel it. Your baby is there.

A knot of anxiety forms in your throat. You can't afford to think about the future. Not when every minute here could be your last.

"Jun-ho!"

The mention of that name grabs your attention.

It can’t be.

You turn your head toward the source of the call and then you see him.

Your world stops.

He's standing a few meters away, wearing the same player uniform as everyone else, but with an expression you've never seen before on his face.

His dark eyes lock onto yours as if he can't believe what he's seeing.

Your breath catches.

"What...?" His voice is barely a whisper. His lips part, but it seems like the words are stuck in his throat. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The room fades into a distant murmur. You can't move. You can't speak. All you can do is look at him.

He, on the other hand, acts.

He takes two long steps toward you and grabs your arms firmly, as if he needs to make sure you're real.

"Tell me this is a joke," he whispers, his voice trembling. "Tell me you're not here..."

Your lips tremble.

"Jun-ho..."

He blinks, still stunned.

"I don't understand," his voice is a whisper full of anguish. "How... how did you end up here?"

You look down, feeling the weight of guilt crush you.

"The debts..." you murmur. "I got into trouble and... I didn't want to tell you."

His grip on your arms tightens.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I didn’t want to be a burden," you whisper, with burning eyes.

He freezes.

Anger and pain mix on his face.

"You’re my wife," he says in a low voice but with intensity. "You would never be a burden."

Your bottom lip trembles. It hurts so much to have kept this from him.

Jun-ho doesn't let go of you. He takes care of you with a devotion you’ve never seen before. He leads you by the hand through the halls, making sure you’re safe, and in every corner, his concerned gaze doesn’t fade. You spend the day in silence, finding refuge in the calm you can give each other.

When night falls, he sleeps by your side, watching over you, and although exhaustion consumes him, he doesn’t let you go. The next day, at the next game: Mingle.

All the players start moving, shoving each other, desperately trying to reach the rooms.

Jun-ho grabs your wrist.

"Let’s go!"

You both run as the platform stops, dodging the players who are frantically running.

"Find a door!" Jun-ho shouts.

You run as fast as you can, but you feel the extra weight on your body.

You can't go as fast as the others.

Your breath becomes erratic, and just as you see an empty room…

A brutal shove pushes you to the side.

You don’t have time to react.

Your body loses balance, and before you can process it, the void opens beneath your feet.

A scream is choked in your throat.

But before desperation can completely engulf you, hands catch you.

"Don’t let go!" Jun-ho’s voice is a desperate shout.

Your heart races when you realize you’re hanging in the air.

You cling to his wrist with all your strength, feeling his fingers dig into your skin.

"Jun-ho!"

The weight of your body drags him, but he doesn’t let go.

His muscles tense as he tries to pull you up.

From a nearby door, a familiar voice shouts.

"Here! Hurry!"

It’s Gi-hun.

Jun-ho gathers all his strength and pulls you up.

At the last second, he runs with you in his arms and jumps into the room, just as the door slams shut behind you.

The sound of gunshots rings out from outside.

Those who didn’t make it inside.

Your legs tremble and you fall to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jun-ho falls beside you, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" his voice trembles, his hands tracing your face in desperation. "Did you get hurt?"

Tears fall from your face.

"Jun-ho..."

You can’t speak. You can only cling to him.

He wraps his arms around you and presses his forehead against yours.

"I almost lost you..."

You sob, burying your face in his neck.

Then, you feel it.

A slight movement in your abdomen.

Jun-ho feels it too.

He freezes.

With trembling hands, he lowers them to your belly.

"It moved...?" His voice is a broken whisper.

You nod, with tears sliding down your cheeks.

A shaky sigh escapes his lips and he closes his eyes tightly, as if trying to contain the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

"I’m going to get you out of here," he murmurs. "Both of you."

You don’t have the strength to answer. You only cling to him, letting his warmth surround you.

You don’t know what will happen next.

But in this moment, in his arms, you feel safe.