#i don’t think i worded this correctly so i hope it makes sense :(

[un1dentity]

do u think deacon hides his eyes because they’re the same color as the first synth’s eyes (that was murdered by the up deathclaws gang while he ran with them) & the same color of barbara’s eyes too … so he wears sunglasses because he can’t stand looking in the mirror without them because those eyes — their eyes — stare right back … hehe

[helluvapoison]

I just read your Lucifer ABC's and the idea of him knowing everything about reader, but also needing words of afirmation just gave me an idea. Just imagine Lucifer truly asking to be tested about how much he knows reader, and they just start asking "Who is the person that i love most?" "Who makes my heart flutter and beat so loud even heaven could hear it?" "Who lives in my head rent free that even while dreaming he's there making everything brighter?". Lucifer would crumble.

I cant take this image from mi mind, please honey, show me the sweet baby crumble.

The Answer

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

“C’mon!”

Lucifer’s smile threatens to crack his face in half.

He’s been begging you to quiz him on your knowledge of him even though you assured him, you believe he knows everything about you. A part of you knows this isn’t for you; it’s for him. Lucifer wants to prove he’s a worthy mate by sharing the information he’s collected about you. His crimson eyes are big and beautiful and straight up impossible to deny. With a smile of your own, you sigh and drop your phone. Turning to give him your full attention, you rest your head in your hands.

“Alright. What’s… my favorite color?”

Suddenly his smile drops, eyes rolling dramatically to the left.

“Pfft! That’s way too easy. You need to give me a harder one than that, darling!”

Pursing your lips to the side for only a moment, you don’t need to wrack your brain very hard for a question that would stun Lucifer. A smirk tugs across your face. It’s returned tenfold. He’s vibrating with excitement when he sees you’ve conjured something, something he thinks he can answer. That only makes you more ready to win the battle he’s started.

“Who’s the first person I’d tell a secret to?”

Lucifer inhales like he’s been holding his breathe the whole time.

“That’s—!” He chokes, pupils shrinking to slits, “That’s, uh…”

You make sure to give him a few seconds before dropping the next question.

“Who’s the person I want to see every morning, noon and night of every day?”

“I-I know this one!” Lucifer assures but deflates, shoulders slumping with the amount of uncertainty weighing him down.

“Who am I thinking about every waking moment because they’re my favorite person in the universe?”

Lucifer looks like he wants to say the answer, but he’s afraid it’s wrong. His mouth opens and shuts unsure of itself. His eyes scan your face for any warning signs and although he finds none, it’s as if he can’t trust any of his senses.

Who makes me smile and laugh more than anyone?

Who’s so creative they always have me in awe?

Who can make my day brighter just by being themself?

Question after question, you tug him closer by his hips until he’s flush against you. You will your hands to deliver to reassurance your words cannot. Fingers glide up his neck and comb through his blonde locks, every stroke an apology for dragging the game on.

“Who do I love the very most and thank Heaven every night for sending him to me?”

Your hands steal the apples of his cheeks and tilt his head up. Your eyes grip his in a staring competition fueled by adoration. The games over and forgotten but it has a clear winner. Lucifer’s a blushing disaster, his voice failing him and melting to a whine. He swallows hard on nothing, eyebrows pinching together making his expression appear dangerously hopeful.

Your voice drops to an agonizingly soft whisper. Syrupy sweet yet serious.

“I’ll give you a hint. He’s my angel… His name starts with an L… He’s looking at me like he wants a kiss…?”

“I—Is… Is it.. Me?”

“Yes, Luci. The answer is you.”

Closing the small gap between you both, you finally give him a reward for answering the question correctly.

[yikes-aemond]

I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part IV)

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)

warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, death 

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood plan for the future. Things don’t quite go as planned. 

word count: 5.1k 

author note: Thank you all so much for your patience! I will not lie—this part was a struggle to write. I think I rewrote it at least three times, and I am still not sure if I’m absolutely satisfied. Fair warning, I’m putting our lovebirds through the ringer, but do not worry—I’m a girl who loves a happily ever after. Also, no smut in this part, but stick around for part five. Happy reading!

part i can be found here, part ii here, and part iii here.

“Have you lost your mind?” 

You could not have heard him correctly. Surely Benjicot Blackwood had not just asked you to marry him, while you were half naked. 

You hurried to adjust your dress and cover yourself in a desperate attempt to establish some sense of dignity and propriety in this moment. Had you not been overwhelmed by the day, had you not been so taken off guard, you might have responded a little more kindly to a proposal from your beloved.

Benjicot laughed as he watched you try to gather your wits about you. He followed your direction, adjusting his breaches so that everything was tucked back into its proper place.

Once you were both decent, Benjicot reiterated, “I am quite serious. We should marry this evening.”

You shook your head, mind racing as you tried to comprehend what he was saying, what he was asking. For years, you had watched Benjicot from afar. Watched the way he grew into a man, into someone that people feared and respected in equal measure. Being with Benjicot was always your dream. The one you had tucked away in your heart for years, never to see the light of day should you dare to do the most dangerous thing in all of Westeros—hope. 

And now he was asking you to marry him. You felt unbalanced, unsteady. Your head and your heart were at war. 

You managed to get off the bed. Needing a moment to collect yourself, you put some distance between you and Benjicot and moved back across the room to the fireplace. 

When you turned back to Benjicot, you saw that he had not moved. His eyes were fixed on you, that predatory gaze locked onto your form, waiting for your response. 

That look in his eyes never failed to make you squirm. The weight of that stare made you think he could hear every thought in your head, all your secrets and dreams. 

You sighed, breaking eye contact and said, “You know that our families will never allow it.”

Benjicot stood then, and slowly stalked toward you. With each step, you felt your heartbeat pound louder against your chest. You had thought that the longer you spent in his presence, the more you would become used to him. But you could not deny the effect Benjicot had on you, on your body. 

Benjicot took your hands in his, and pulled you against him. Placing your hands on his chest, he rubbed his thumbs over the scrapes you had gotten earlier in the woods. Had that only been this morning? Time seemed to hold no meaning in this room. A prison that now felt like a sanctuary. 

“That is why we must marry tonight.” Benjicot smiled, and then placed a kiss on your brow. “By the time they find out, it will be too late.” 

You pulled back, just enough so that you could look at his face. “And do your really expect your father and Black Aly to welcome me into the family with open arms?” 

Benjicot was still smiling, still so sure of his plan. “They will once they see how happy we are. How much we love each other.” He shrugged before continuing, “And we would not be the first Blackwoods and Brackens to marry. Others have done it in the name of peace.”

“But our families do not seek peace now!” You practically shouted, frustration coloring your tone. “We are on the brink of war, and our families stand on opposite sides.”

You tried pulling away, but Benjicot tightened his arms around you, stilling your struggle. Whatever good humor Benjicot had was slowly leaching from his features. “You know as well as I do that Queen Rhaenyra is the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.“Of course I agree with you, but that does not change the fact that my father will disown me if we do this. I will never be able to return home.”

Benjicot pressed another kiss to your temple and whispered against your skin,“Would that be such an awful thing?”

You felt your heart jerk at his question. The idea of never seeing your family again, of never being welcomed home, of never eating your cook’s fruit pies or riding through the moorlands outside of Stone Hedge on a misty morning, or gods never visiting your mother’s gravestone, was enough to send a wave of nausea through you. 

You hid your face against his chest. “My father was not always the most loving, but he is my father. For all the faults you may find with him, he has never been cruel to me.” 

Benjicot felt the shift in your mood, could practically feel the sadness and desperation radiate from the points where you touched. He knew the sacrifice he was asking you to make was no small thing. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort the turmoil within you. 

You could not stop the tears even if you wanted to. You did not wail, did not scream at the unfairness of your situation, did not rail against the old gods and the new for cursing your families and subjecting them to an endless blood feud. For what else could this ancient, hateful grudge between the Blackwoods and Brackens be except for a curse? 

Even if you could convince your father to bless a marriage between you and Benjicot, any children between you would be enlisted to the war. Generations of prejudice had proven that. It was no matter that the Bracken or Blackwood on the other side would be a cousin. No matter that no one could remember how the hatred between your two families even began. No matter how senseless the bloodshed would be. 

This was your and Benjicot’s world. You could not run from the truth of your situation, could not hide from your fates. Not if you wanted your love to withstand.

And even though the thought of never going back to Stone Hedge was devastating, the thought of never seeing Benjicot again was unthinkable. Never hearing his voice or his laugh. Never seeing his smiles. Never having him hold you in his arms. You could not bear the separation, not after having a taste of what your life could be like together. 

Your tears slowed and your breathing evened out. Whatever doubts that had plagued your mind were banished. Resolution steeled your spine. You took a fortifying breath and lifted your head from Benjicot’s chest. With a watery smile on your face, you said, “I accept your proposal, Benjicot Blackwood.”

Benjicot’s joy was infectious. Smiling wide and bright, he lifted you into his arms and kissed you with such a reverence that left your breathless. Gods, you loved this man. Wanted him again and could not imagine ever being parted from him. The very thought of being separated was enough to send a panic through you. 

You wrapped your arms around Benjicot’s neck and tangled your hands in his hair, your tongue in his mouth. You felt his joy in that kiss. And you let that joy into your heart. Let it fill and warm you. In this moment, you allowed yourself to be happy. 

The impossible dream was becoming a reality. 

When Benjicot had proposed, he did not have an actual plan. He did not have any rings or a marriage cloak. As a Blackwood, he preferred to have a ceremony before the old gods in front of the ancient, colossal weirwood tree in the godswood. 

Because there were no clergy associated with the old gods, the current Lord Blackwood usually performed marriage ceremonies at Raventree Hall. But seeing as his father would likely oppose the marriage, that left Benjicot with few options. With a little convincing, or in Benjicot’s case, a little threat of bodily harm, the maester finally agreed to perform the ceremony. 

You could not stop smiling as Benjicot snuck you out of your rooms. With each passing hallway and corridor, you felt your excitement grow. You could barely contain your glee as you clung to each other, arms linked and hands intertwined, as you made your way into the godswood.  

The maester stood before the weirwood tree, with only the moonlight and a few lanterns to light the way. Hundreds of ravens were to be your witnesses. On any other night, feeling the weight of all those eyes watching you might have felt unsettling. But nothing could spoil this moment, nothing could come between you and Benjicot— 

“What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?” 

Every muscle in your body tensed. Panic settled in your chest, and you felt your stomach drop. 

Black Aly stood at the edge of the godswood, her bow and arrow knocked and poised to strike.  

You felt the world shift. One moment you were standing beside Benjicot, and the next, Benjicot stood in between you and Aly, putting himself in the way of the arrow that had been aimed at your chest. 

“Lower the bow, Aly.” Benjicot’s voice was hard and low. You watched as he moved his hand to the hilt of his dagger, ready to draw the blade at any moment. 

Even from a distance, you could see Aly roll her eyes at Benjicot’s actions, but she did not lower her bow. “Do not overwork yourself, nephew.” 

You grabbed the back of Benjicot’s cloak, pulling slightly as if to hold him back. You glanced wearily back and forth between the Blackwoods. Two warriors preparing to battle. The last thing you wanted was for there to be violence. For surely a duel between Bloody Ben and Black Aly would be a fight for the ages. 

Benjicot’s body was tense as yours. He did not truly believe that Aly would hurt you. Aly was tough but fair, and underneath her brash attitude and hostility, she had a gentle heart. But he would not risk you. Would not allow anyone to threaten or harm you. Not when he had the ability to protect you. 

Benjicot pulled out his dagger. “Put the bow away, Aly. I will not ask again.”

You wanted to step in between them like you had done in the fight with Aeron. But this situation was different. This was two Blackwood who were taking the measure of each other, testing how far the other was willing to go. You could not intervene, even if the sight of an arrow pointed at Benjicot was enough to send your blood running cold. 

After what felt like hours, Aly lowered her bow. Sighing, she returned the arrow to her quiver. Only then did Benjicot sheath his dagger. 

“You sure have a flare for the dramatics, nephew.”

Now it was Benjicot’s turn to roll his eyes. “Says the woman who had an arrow aimed at my betrothed.”

Your heart fluttered at the word. 

Aly huffed out a laugh. “Is that what she is to you? Your betrothed? I do not recall your father agreeing to any such arrangement.” 

Benjicot remained in front of you, a barrier between you and Aly. “I asked for her hand, and she accepted.”

Aly stood with her hands on her hips, eyes directed toward the heavens. She looked as if she were searching for patience amongst the stars. When she cut her gaze back to Benjicot, you could not miss the look of pity that flashed across her face. 

“Benji, you know that you cannot marry her.” 

You reached for Benjicot’s hand, needing his touch and warmth to ground you in this moment. Whatever happiness you had felt, whatever joy that you had shared, was now slowly falling through your grasp. 

Black Aly would never allow you two to marry. Not like this. 

But Benjicot’s stubbornness was no light thing. “I love her, Aly. I will marry her, and you cannot stop me.”

Just as Aly was about to respond, you saw her face pale and expression grow uneasy. And when you heard the voice behind you, you understood why. 

“You would be wise to reconsider that position, son.” 

If you had thought you felt panic before, that was nothing to the sickening feeling that plagued you now. 

Because standing on the opposite side of the godswood, directly across from Aly, was Lord Samwell Blackwood. Benjicot’s father, and your own father’s sworn enemy. And with him stood a dozen Blackwood guards, each looking between you and Benjicot with expressions that ranged from disbelief to disgust. 

You had never been formally introduced to Lord Blackwood. He was a rather tall man, with hair as black as a raven’s wing. His close-cropped beard was the same. Like Benjicot, his gaze was enough to send a lesser man cowering. And right now that gaze was cold and enraged and fixed on you and Benjicot. 

If Benjicot had not been holding your hand, you would have been trembling. The two of you were trapped. 

“Are you so eager to start a war, Benjicot?” Lord Blackwood asked, his tone was like ice. “For some Bracken wench?” 

You felt Benjicot’s hand tighten around yours, almost to the point of pain. One glance at Benjicot told you that he was furious. His glare held that feral edge, and he was close to snarling. Bloody Ben was backed into a corner, and he looked itching for a fight. Even if that fight was against his own father.

“You will mind how you speak about my lady, father.” Had you not been so fearful for your life and his, you would have thought that declaration rather romantic. 

Lord Blackwood did not look impressed. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you and your lady have brought to our door, Benjicot?” 

“We wish to marry, father.” Benjicot glanced at you as he said, “We love each other.” 

A long suffering sigh escaped from Lord Blackwood as he motioned for his men to stand down. “That does not change the fact that she is a Bracken. You cannot simply marry her without expecting there to be consequences.”

“I am prepared to accept any consequence if it means we can be together.” The surety in Benjicot’s tone was enough to ease the fear that had gripped you since you had been discovered. You could help but give him a small smile. 

A smile that Lord Blackwood did not miss. “And you, Lady Bracken?” Lord Blackwood sneered. “Are you prepared to face the consequences of this marriage? Your father will seek retribution for this little act of rebellion. Are you prepared to have blood on your hands?” 

Now you were the one who squeezed Benjicot’s hand. Lord Blackwood terrified you, and so did his words. You did not wish to be the cause of another fight between the Blackwoods and the Brackens, did not want to send anyone to their death because you fell in love with someone who was never meant to be yours. 

Benjicot nudged his shoulder against yours, offering you what strength he could. With him standing at your side, you found the courage to meet Lord Blackwood’s gaze. “Whatever trials and tribulations may come our way, Lord Blackwood, I am prepared to meet them with Benjicot as my lord husband.” 

Even without looking at him, you could feel Benjicot’s eyes on you as you held your own against his father. Could feel how proud he was of you for defending your future together. 

Taking another breathe, you could not help but add, “You speak of my hands becoming bloody,  but I could not think of anything more fitting for a woman betrothed to Bloody Ben Blackwood.” 

The silence in the godswood was deafening. 

Every person and creature seemed to be holding their breath for Lord Blackwood’s response. You did not dare break eye contact with him, determined to hold your ground and prove yourself worthy of being Benjicot’s wife. 

Lord Blackwood finally moved his gaze from you and back to Benjicot. “We will treat with Lord Bracken tomorrow. Offer him a parley. You will ask his permission to marry his daughter. You will accept his decision, no matter what he says.” 

“Father! You know he will not—”

But Lord Blackwood had heard enough. Holding up his hand, he demanded silence. “Those are my terms, Benjicot. Be grateful I am allowing this much.” 

A weariness had settled over Lord Blackwood’s features. Although he was still a man in his prime, in that moment, he looked aged and tired. As he turned to leave the godswood, he said, “We stand on the brink of war. The Targaryens are at each other’s throats since King Viserys passed. Soon House Blackwood will be asked to choose a side, and you have allowed your foolish heart to guide your choices.” 

You could tell Benjicot wanted to protest, wanted to push back on his father’s orders. He knew as well as you did that convincing your father to allow the two of you to marry was going to take an act of the gods. 

And even though Benjicot knew when to pick his battles, knew when he had lost a fight, he could not help but have the last word. “There are worse things to be guided by than one’s heart, father.” 

Benjicot’s words gave Lord Blackwood pause. For a moment, you thought he might respond, might reprimand Benjicot for his lack of respect. Only when Lord Blackwood continued walking out of the godswood did you feel like you could breathe again. 

The Blackwood guards followed their ledge lord, leaving you, Benjicot, and Aly in the presence of the ravens. You could have collapsed from exhaustion. You felt wrung out from the day. Too much had happened in such a short period of time, and your body was protesting. 

Aly approached and stopped just short of you and Benjicot. “Well, that did not quite go as I expected.”

Benjicot rounded on Aly, and with animosity in his voice, he asked, “Why did you stop us?”

Aly stared at Benjicot like he had grown a second head. “We’re trying to prevent a war, Benji. Had the two of you married, Bracken would have shown up here with a thousand men seeking your head. You might love each other, but is that love really worth the lives of hundreds? Thousands?” 

“You are overreacting—”

Aly shoved at Benjicot’s chest. “And you are being an idiot! Use your head, Benji. If you had married in secret, the Brackens would have stopped at nothing to avenge that insult. You know that, even if you are too blind to see it.” 

With a softer tone, Aly continued, “Be grateful your father is supporting you in this. He could have just as easily returned her to Stone Hedge. You have a chance.”

Benjicot scoffed. “A chance? Do you really believe—”

“Enough.” You cut Benjicot off before he could say another word. You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “My father may hate Blackwoods, but he is not unreasonable. We will convince him.” 

You could tell that Benjicot was struggling to control his temper. He was still running hot from the confrontation with Aly and his father. Bloody Ben was lingering too close to the surface. You pulled his face toward yours and pressed a kiss to his lips. Nothing more than a gentle peck, but enough to distract him. 

When you pulled back, you could see that some of the edge had worn off. Benjicot’s face was calmer, less hostile. “I love you, Benjicot Blackwood. I do not plan to give you up without a fight.” 

Benjicot smiled at your words, the soft smile he reserved just for you. He wrapped his arms around you, tucking you under his chin. “My brave girl. I pity any man who would dare cross you.”

You held each other for a moment before Aly cleared her throat. “If you two are finished, I’m going to escort little Bracken back to her rooms.” 

With a quick kiss to your head, Benjicot released you and said, “Sleep well, my lady.” 

You did not want to leave Benjicot, but you knew there was no way Aly was going to let you stay with each other. As you followed her out of the godswood, you could not help but take one last look at Benjicot. 

You nearly stumbled when you saw him. Beneath the ancient weirwood tree, bathed in moonlight and surrounded by ravens, stood Benjicot. His head bowed as if in prayer. 

You did not have to guess what he was praying about. You only hoped that the old gods were listening. 

The only neutral territory acceptable to both the Blackwoods and the Brackens were the boundary stones near the old windmill. The day was overcast and cold, with the wind tearing through the cloak Aly had lent you.

Aly had not left your side since collecting you from your rooms that morning. You and Benjicot had been kept separated for the entire journey. You had asked for him, begged Aly to allow you two a moment alone, but she had refused. Lord Blackwood was keeping both she and Benjicot on a tight leash until this matter was settled. 

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You had tossed and turned the entire night, too anxious to close your eyes for fear of what your dreams may hold. You might have been confident with Benjicot the night before, but in truth, you had no idea how to convince your father to allow you to marry. 

The Brackens had arrived first. 

A host of about fifty men had gathered on their side of the boundary stones. A sea of red and gold with a few horses scattered in the mix. You did not miss how all the men were armed with swords at the ready. 

And in the front, seated atop his favorite war horse and adorned in battle leathers, was Amos Bracken. Your father.  

Amos Bracken was not as tall or built as Samwell Blackwood, but you knew your father to be a proficient swordsmen and respected fighter in his own right. You had no doubt that should this come to blows, he would hold his own. 

Aeron stood beside him. A united front against their perceived enemies. And while your father’s face was blank of all emotions, calm and controlled, Aeron’s disdain for the Blackwoods was clear for all to see. 

The Blackwood host equalled that of the Brackens’. You had ridden to the neutral ground on the back of Aly’s horse. You had tried to spot Benjicot all morning, but there were too many men, too much chaos. The closer you got to the boundary stones, the more you felt Aly tense in front of you. 

When you finally stopped, Aly directed you to the front of the vanguard. She had drawn her bow the moment your feet hit the ground. 

Your first sight of Benjicot sent your heart thumping. His dark hair was mussed, as if he had run his hand through it multiple times. But that was the only sign that Benjicot felt uneasy. His posture was relaxed, and his mouth was fixed in a smirk, like this meeting was an every day occurrence. He showed no fear. 

Aly stopped you slightly behind and to the right of Benjicot. You saw the moment when your father and Aeron spotted you. Your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Aeron’s face twisted into a mix of shock and disbelief. 

You swallowed down the fear and anxiety. Swallowed down the nausea that threatened to upend your breakfast. Swallowed down any uncertainty you felt. You had to present a strong front to your father and his men. Otherwise, they would pounce on any hesitation and demand that you be returned home. 

Lord Blackwood broke the silence first. “Amos. A pleasure as always.”

“Cut the shit, Blackwood,” Lord Bracken snarled, “and return my daughter to me.” 

The words were not unexpected. You tensed as Aeron shifted his hand to the sword at his side, stomach twisting as he gripped the hilt. 

You exhaled a long breath and fixed your gaze on your father. “I am well, father. The Blackwoods have treated me kindly.”

Lord Bracken’s face darkened, and you instantly regretted speaking. “I do not want to hear a single word from you.”

Your cheeks flamed at the dismissal, but you refused to lower your eyes. Refused to cower before your family. “Then I am sorry to disappoint you, father.”

“You insubordinate, ungrateful—”

“Lord Bracken,” Benjicot interjected, stopping your father from insulting you further. “I am here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

You did not so much as breathe as you waited for your father to respond. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

The longer you waited, the more panic seeped into your veins. But when your father finally responded, you wished that he had not. 

With a sneer on his face, your father glared at Benjicot when he said, “I would sooner feed my daughter to one of those Targaryen dragons before marrying her to some Blackwood cunt.” 

You had felt like someone had knocked the air from your lungs. You had never seen such hatred on your father’s face. Had never heard his voice sound so cold and cruel. You knew that he hated the Blackwoods, but to sentence you to death rather than let you marry? 

You looked at your father like he was a stranger. 

You heard angry shouts and curses behind you from the Blackwood host. Felt that the bloodlust in the air had upped a notch. 

Lord Blackwood held up a hand to silence his men. “Careful, Bracken.” 

“My daughter was taken by your son. Subjected to gods knows what. I will not be careful, Blackwood.” 

“That’s not true, father!” You shouted, launching yourself to stand before your father. You had to find some way to convince him, some way to get him to listen. “Benjicot and I are in love. Please, just listen to us.” 

Your father scoffed. “Love? Between a Bracken and a Blackwood? Do not make me laugh.” 

The Bracken host jeered at your father’s word, laughing and snickering at the very idea of you and Benjicot being together. You even heard a man call out, “Blackwood whore!” 

You did not see Benjicot move. Did not see him reach for the dagger at his hip. Did not see him launch the blade into the air. 

But you could not miss the dagger embedding itself into the man’s throat. Could not miss the splattering of blood or the final wheeze of breath the man took before falling to the ground. Dead in the blink of an eye. 

A scream tore from your throat. You whipped around to look at Benjicot and found Bloody Ben instead. His eyes held that crazed, feral look, but there was no smirk.

Every Blackwood and Bracken standing in that field un-sheathed their weapons. 

“You may insult me all you wish, Bracken!” Benjicot called out, moving forward. “Call me a cunt. Call me craven. I do not care.” He stopped next to you and took your hand. "But I will cut down any man who dares to say such vile insults to my lady. Of that, I promise you.”

Your father did not look pleased by that declaration. If anything, he looked more enraged than before. “You violate the terms of this parley, Blackwood. You have spilled Bracken blood. I have the right to demand your head. But I will settle for the return of my daughter. Now.” 

You were close to tears. Nothing you or Benjicot said moved your father. He was determined to hold onto his hatred, to see the Blackwoods in the worst possible light. But you could not give up—you had to try. 

“Father, please,” your voice broke at the words, “I know that the feud between our families has lasted for a millennium. I know that the thought of a Blackwood and Bracken being together, of loving one another, is inconceivable to you. I know that this is not the life you wished for me. But I have lovedBenjicot since I was a girl.” You took a quick glance at Benjicot to give you strength. “And he loves me. I humbly ask you to grant our union.” 

Your father refused to look at you. Refused to acknowledge your words or pleas. You clutched Benjicot’s hand tighter. For you knew what was coming. Knew that your father was about to crush whatever hope you still held onto. 

Ignoring you and Benjicot as if you were insignificant, he directed his words to Lord Blackwood, “I do not give my blessing to this marriage. Return my daughter to me or we will have war.” 

Your vision swam and your ears began ringing. Somewhere in the distance you heard Lord Blackwood sigh and give the command. Your hand was ripped from Benjicot’s, by whom you did not know. You felt as if the entire world had spun off its axis. How had everything gone so wrong? 

One moment, you were standing next to Benjicot, his warm hand against yours, and then in the blink of an eye, you were on the other side of the boundary stones, with Aeron leading you away.

You felt as if you were disconnected from your body. Aeron’s arms were around you, guiding you. You were vaguely aware that he was trying to say something, speak to you about what had happened. But you felt nothing. Heard nothing. A numbness had settled over you. 

Only when you heard Benjicot call out your name did you snap. 

You shoved against Aeron, tried to run back across the boundary stones to Blackwood land, back to your love, but Aeron held firm. You struggled against him, screaming and hitting and kicking, but your strength was no match for his. 

You looked across the field to see Benjicot being held back by three men. He was snarling and raging, but the men held firm and forced him to his knees. You watched as Aly tried to speak to him, tried to calm him down. 

But there was no calming Bloody Ben. Not now. Not when his lady had been taken from him. 

When Benjicot saw that you were watching him, saw that you were struggling against your own constraints, he stopped. His eyes were wild and fierce and held the promise of retribution. With laboring breaths Benjicot shouted across the field, “I will come you for you, my lady!” He vowed. “I will always come for you!” 

You sobbed at his words. Sobbed for the happiness and hope that you had felt only hours before. Sobbed for the future you might have shared together.

For the second time, you were forced to leave Benjicot behind in this accursed field. Only this time, the heartbreak was so much worse. You had gotten a taste of the impossible dream, gotten so close to getting everything you wanted.

Your dream had become a nightmare. 

final author note: I know! I know! We have to suffer before things get better. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Love you babes xx

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[cozage]

Hi, Coza! I hope you are doing well! I miss your writings and am so excited to see your requests are open! :)

I saw a post by sunshinescribes that talked about how Law doesn’t believe in unconditional love and how he thinks relationships should be transactional. Hopefully I can properly link it here because they do a really good job at explaining it: https://www.tumblr.com/sunshinescribes/728643191573757952/i-think-the-most-tragic-part-of-laws-character-is

I was wondering if it was possible to have a scenario based off of this post of reader just appreciating and loving Law because they want to. Like maybe they’re just waking up and reader is using the rare moment of peace and quiet in bed to spill all of their love and sappy thoughts to him. He deserves all of the comfort, love, and care 😭

A/N: Thanks for this devastatingly lovely prompt! Here's the post for everyone if you want to go give it a read (and a like!) Characters: gn reader x Law Cw: none :)  Total word count: 850

There Are No Conditions

The way the light refracted through the cabin window in the morning and bounced off of Law’s ravenous hair was one of your favorite things in this world. It was one of the few times he didn’t have a scowl on his face. He rarely smiled in his sleep, but his face almost always looked so peaceful. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then his face turned soft again. He must have been having a good dream. 

You noticed he was starting to get a few gray hairs. He must have been under some kind of stress recently. Though he always seemed to be since you all had entered the New World. You knew he had a lot on his mind, and you wished there was something you could do to make his life easier. You wanted to bear that burden with him. 

“Do you need something?” Law’s voice came out hoarse, but his sudden alertness had startled you slightly. 

“Nothing at all,” you said sweetly. “Just admiring you in this light.”

He groaned and pulled you in closer to him. “We’re getting curtains at the next island.”

You gave an exasperated gasp, but snuggled in tightly to him knowing his threat was empty. “And you would deny me of such a simple pleasure for what? Extra sleep?”

His eyes cracked open at your words and he peered down at you. “You cannot enjoy watching me sleep.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “It’s one of my favorite things in this world, Trafalgar Law. In fact, you’re one of my favorite things in this whole world, so everything that you do is automatically good in my eyes.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly not believing you. “Flattery is a little thick today. You might want to tone it down, or I’ll catch on to the fact that you want something.”

You stuck your tongue out at his words. “All I wanted was to look at you while you sleep!”

“Freak.” He paired his words with a kiss to your forehead to show he didn’t actually mean them. 

The two of you were silent for a while. You thought he had fallen back asleep, so you occupied your time tracing over his tattoos. But after a few minutes, he spoke again.

“Okay, seriously-” He pulled back slightly to look at you. He tended to do that when he wanted to make sure you were being truthful. “What did you want to do today?”

You were never good at hiding your emotions. You knew they had all washed over your face in a matter of seconds, and Law could read them all with intense precision. Confusion. Knowing. Irritation. And then, understanding. 

“I don’t want anything from you, Law,” you explained. “I was just…enjoying the view? I don’t know how to say it correctly. I find myself staring sometimes because I find you interesting.”

Law’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “If you wanted a good view, the deck and the sea are far more interesting. Especially at this time of day.”

You gave a humorless laugh. “I love you more than I love the sea, idiot.”

He froze at those words, and you could see him struggling to make sense of them. “So you were staring at me…?”

“Because I love you,” you finished for him. 

That didn’t seem to help. “And you love me because…?”

“I don’t know!” You gave out a sharp laugh at the thought. “There are no reasons and so many reasons! But there are no conditions for my love, Law! I just love you because I love you. I can’t say exactly why I love you. I just do!”

You had really done it now. You were fairly certain you had never seen Law more confused or more flustered than he was in this moment. He gave a hard swallow and nodded his head, but you could tell further clarification was still needed.

“You don’t understand,” you said, watching his eyes turn to the ceiling. If they went there, that usually meant he was lost in thought. 

He shrugged. “I do, in a way. I feel that way about you, but I…well, I never expected someone to feel that way about me.”

The weight of his words made your heart sink. He deserved more than anyone to know how much he was treasured. You would die for him for no other reason than love. And while he could grasp the concept, he couldn’t understand why someone would feel that way towards him. 

“How about I tell you all the things I love about you?” you offered softly, trying to pull him away from his thoughts. It was too early to be thinking of such deep topics.

His eyes shifted over to you, and you could see he was half alarmed by your offer. But you could see the smallest spark of intrigue. 

So you began listing everything you could think off, absentmindedly still tracing over his tattoos. 

The sun was more than halfway across the sky before you finished. And there was a soft smile on his face during your all’s afternoon nap. 

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | chapter sixteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 19.7k 

Warnings: don’t wanna spoil too much so i’ll be brief. angst. yes! angst. unprotected sex, oc dom era?, handjobs!!, oral (f), dry humping (bc it’s me lol), loads of riding!, sweet missionary. also… this might not be with, uh, jk. or it might! who knows… keep reading :) 

Author’s note:  i don’t even know what to say to be honest, i’m so nervous for you guys to read this chapter but also so, so excited to hear what you think!! so, like always, do let me know what you thought!! so much to unpack here lol. I LOVE YOU! thank u for waiting for this one, hope you enjoy. xo <3

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Sixteen

You wait for a feeling of dread to take over you. For your heart to feel heavy, for a breath to get caught in your throat. You expect your eyes to burn with the promise of tears in a matter of seconds but none of that comes. Instead what you feel as your words come to a halt and all you can hear is the crashing of the waves, is relief. You feel light, like something’s left you. Something you’d assumed you’d weighted correctly based on the assumptions of your heart, but now you realize how wrong you were. You know this because as silence fills the air and you can’t muster up the courage to look at Jungkook, a weightless feeling overcomes you. One that lets you know that you can let go. You can breathe now. You did the right thing – you tried. 

It’s something you can barely control when your legs give out and you’re lowering yourself, sitting on the sand as you fixate your gaze towards the sky. It’s beautiful, you think, a sense of peace taking over you. You feel his eyes on you and for a second, he lingers. Hovering over you as if calculating his next move. You don’t seem to be paying him much mind and Jungkook is almost grateful for this. He believes your eyes on his could break him in more ways than one and so the semi-privacy you give him as he collects his thoughts is one he doesn’t take for granted. He stays very still, taking your words in even after you’ve gone quiet. He waits for his head to spin, his fight or flight to kick in, a wave of overthinking to take over him but none of this happens. And when it doesn’t, he simply follows your actions, coming down to sit next to you. He’s awfully close, it’s what you perceive at first. The warmth his body gives out, the one you’ve grown heartachingly familiar to, gives this away. His eyes aren’t on you anymore and before you can think this through, you’re looking at him. You watch him as he watches the sea and the sky perform for the two of you. The sight alone feels like a consolation from God, but you can’t help it when your eyes remain glued to him. On the way his gaze grows softer, dark hair swept slightly by the wind, his strong arms wrapped around his knees, making him look small. His nose, his lips. His face. The face you love, despite it all. 

Despite his silence. 

And so, ever so softly, you plead.

“You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to feel what I feel but please don’t give me silence.”

Something inside of you tells you this is what you should’ve said long ago, but you reach for no harshness in the way things have turned out for the two of you. You can only be grateful that these words are finding you now. 

He looks at you, eyes meeting yours that never left him. His voice is a barely there whisper, but still all you can hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

You smile. “What for?”

Is he sorry for his silence? For the silence he now knows he’s kept for weeks. For the silence he now knows is the cause of very many things that now make sense to him. Is he sorry for not loving you back? Is he sorry for you? For the way your eyes give the sadness away, even when almost tricked by your smile. Is he sorry for not being able to give himself this thing. This one good thing that’s his and only his. For your eyes, that seem to take him in like nothing else matters. Not the sky, not the sea, not the way your heart sinks with every passing second that it takes for him to speak next. 

“You don’t deserve my silence. You don’t deserve any of this.”

“I know,” you say, but your voice remains soft. Kind. “I choose my battles, though.”

He smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I heard you that first time.”

“Yeah… I figured that much.”

“I didn’t think–” he stops himself.

“That I meant it?”

“Yeah,” you nod at this and he continues, “at first I didn’t want to say anything just in case you hadn’t realized what you said but then you… acknowledged it and I– I froze, __. I should’ve said something, anything, I know that now. In that moment, though, I just… pushed it to the back of my mind because my brain told me a million reasons as to why maybe you didn’t mean it.”

You turn your gaze away from his, fixing your eyes back into the ocean so as to hide the way his words make you feel. Something about your words being pushed to the back of his mind makes your heart ache. In this moment you realize that the pain you’ve been feeling has little to do with love unreciprocated and much to do with love dismissed. You know his words hold no ill-intent but you can’t help but picture your feelings as this physical thing – small and fragile at the palm of his hands, being crumpled like paper and tossed to the side. 

Nonetheless, you push the feeling aside for the sole reason that you know him. You know Jungkook isn’t a bad person, you know his actions are but a reaction of something heavier he carries. 

“I understand. I was hurt, I won’t lie to you and I say I wasn’t but… I understand.” Jungkook nods once, facing the ocean, trying to grasp for words but when he fails, you continue. “This silence makes me feel like we’re strangers. Like a person I know– a person I love, is a stranger to me. And I’m at fault for that, too. I should’ve come to you sooner. I should’ve told you how I was feeling.”

“I don’t–,” Jungkook sighs, and the act alone loosens up the tension that he’d been holding onto. “I don’t blame you for not coming to me. I don’t think my actions were welcoming and that probably… that probably really fucking sucked for you, __. I’m sorry.”

“Do you still love her?” Your own question takes you aback, but you can’t take it back now. This is a good thing, you reckon. Now’s a good time as any. “Ira, I mean. Do you still love her?”

It takes him a beat too long to answer. “No. Ira and I had been on a steady decline for a while… longer than you’d probably think.”

“I don’t think of it, Jungkook. I know nothing about it.”

He looks at you now. “You’re right.”

“And I’m not asking you to… tell me all of it. I know it was hard. I know it still is hard so I would never demand to know but… I think I’d like to know that much.”

“I don’t love her. I thought I did, when she first left I thought that on top of everything, I’d have to deal with being in love with her still but… how could I love someone that did that to the person I love the most?”

“Soori,” you state, matter of factly.

“Yeah. And I get that… I’m a person. With human reactions. That I can resent her for what she did to her as a father but still hold on to what she gave me as a man but the moment she walked away… I’m not saying she took all the love I’ve ever felt for her with her, but she made things very clear for me. That wasn’t the person I’d fallen in love with. The person I’d fallen in love with would’ve never done that. And so that was that, I guess.”

You shift your body to face him better and the expression he holds breaks something inside of you. 

“But it still hurts.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it still hurts. I think of the day when I’ll have to tell Soori about it. And when I’m not thinking about it, I’m having nightmares about it.”

“I get that but… I also meant,” now it’s your turn to sigh, deflating slightly before your next words leave you. “It hurts you as a… person. Not a father.”

He smiles, half-heartedly. “It does. I’m just now realizing that it does.”

“Because you can’t love me.”

Jungkook hates the finality your words hold. The way you say it matter-of-factly. The way your voice loses all the hope it usually carries. The way you sound resigned – like you’ve just given up. On this. On him. But he can’t blame you for any of it. All he can do now is give you honesty. You and himself. All he can do now is try. 

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to feel or not feel. I don’t know what I feel. All I know is that most days, I don’t even trust myself. That it takes me about ten minutes every morning to get out of fight or flight mode. I second guess my very own thoughts and when I think of the me that fell in love with Ira, or the me that opened up to anyone in the past for that matter, it feels so incredulous. Like an out of body experience. I don’t feel like me anymore. I haven’t in a while. I don’t know who I am outside of being Soori’s dad. And every piece of myself I’ve regained it’s been by observing the muscle memory my friends have around me.”

“I understand.” It’s all you can say, afraid that anything else would fracture you further. 

“Yeah, you do. Surprisingly you do.”

He looks at you now and you allow yourself to stare into his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that it’s always felt like you understood, even when you didn’t know. You never asked questions yet you never tiptoed around it. Around me.”

“I think the cure for most things is giving ourselves the permission to feel them. I like to extend that to those who I think might need it.”

He laughs, in disbelief. Not because he doesn’t believe you, but because the wisest part of him does. “Yeah, that’s the thing, __.”

You frown. His tone picks up a bit, making you feel slightly defensive yourself. “What is?”

“When I met you I… I almost resented you. Sometimes I ask myself how it is I ended up giving you the job–”

“I ask myself the same thing. But I never thought you resented me.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t resent you. Maybe I wanted to. But I never got to. I’d be in a shitty mood going down the stairs, feeling ready to be out the door and get to the office so I could shut everything out and not have to deal with anyone. Then I’d go inside the kitchen and you’d smile at me. So bright I mistook it for pity for a while until I realized that it wasn’t that. You just… understood. I still don’t know what that means but all I know is that it changed me.” His gaze falters for a while before facing down. “I wanted to go back to my normal life. I wanted my problems to go away, as much as I knew that was impossible, it’s still all I wanted. And then you came in and gave me the total opposite of that.”

He looks up, eyes on yours and it hurts. It hurts because he’s making total sense, yet you’re confused. You find yourself in the middle of a battle between your heart and your brain, and they seem to be hearing whatever appeases them the most. 

Jungkook smiles, more to himself than at you, as if lost in a memory. “You felt new – not because you were new in my life, but because you’re nothing like I’ve ever known before. I tried to push you away because welcoming you into my life meant more changes, but that never worked out, did it?”

“I don’t know,” you answer sincerely. Wherever this conversation’s going, you don’t know, but all you can do is listen. 

“__, you’re–” his words come to a halt, breath hitching in your throat as you wait. “You’re warm and bright. You’re so beautiful, the way you think and the way you speak don’t stand behind – not a single part of you fails to be beautiful. And I was the complete opposite when I met you. You pulled me out of it, against my will even.”

“Jungkook, why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know how to tell you how I feel, but this much I know it’s true.”

Your eyes hide from his gaze, the burn of the feeling in the form of tears catches up to you and now you’re the one that vows silence. 

“I’m scared,” Jungkook says. “It sounds so fucking stupid when I say it. And all I seem to do is try and push away the feeling but it just comes back stronger the next time. I’m not scared of what I feel for you, I’m not scared of you, __. But I am scared of what that entails.”

“Why,” you ask, the word barely there.

Jungkook’s body turns to face you, his hand coming up to your face gently before he’s bringing your eyes to his. He tries to let his heart speak but it doesn’t quite meet his tongue. 

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t deserve… this.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry because you can’t be with me?”

“No. I’m sorry because I’m about to ask you to be with me.”

Your eyes widen, confusion lacing your features yet the glimmer in your eyes is evident and Jungkook doesn’t miss it. The way you look at him right now makes him want to be better, and perhaps that’s what’s been getting him through these months all along. You. 

“I– why would you be sorry for that?”

“Because I’m not gonna be perfect at it, but I want to be good at trying.”

“That’s all I need, Jungkook.”

“We haven’t… given ourselves the opportunity to try. To really try. I guess that’s on me, so I apologize. But I want us to try. I want us to talk and I want to try and explain to you why I feel the way I do. I want to understand it myself I–”

You hold his cheek in your hand, stopping his words. “That’s all I need.”

“No–”

“Yes. For now, it’s enough. We don’t have to live in a hypothetical future. I know it’s hard not to sometimes but, we can go day by day. We can give ourselves the next twenty four hours and then go from there. It’s all we have control over, isn’t it?”

“You’re wise. I was not this wise at twenty three. Still am not.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at his words. “I’m not wise. I’m–,” in love, you want to say, but you know that if a moment ever demanded for time and patience, it was this. “I care for you. I care for this. I care for us. I can’t begin to imagine what it felt like… when she left. And I understand that pain doesn’t go away in a day, but I just want to be by your side, I guess.”

“You are. You have been since the beginning.”

“So, let me.”

“Okay.”

He wants to kiss you and God, there’s nothing you want more right now but there’s no way of guaranteeing privacy and you’d like to keep this moment to yourself. Jungkook calls your name, making you face him once again. The sky’s about to end its show and you think that perhaps it wasn’t all consolation from God but another, bigger thing. Hope. A sign. Pleading in screaming colors. 

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t done this in a while.”

“What exactly?”

He ignores your question. “I mean, years. I was probably your age the last time I did this and I don’t know if much has changed but,” your face still hints at confusion but there’s a little smile that forms in your lips that he doesn’t miss. It makes him feel shy but he breaks through it, needing you to hear him loud and clear and for nothing in his demeanor to translate into anything but what it is he wants. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You smile. “I’ve never been asked that in my life.”

“Oh, I– maybe it’s weird–”

“Yes.” Jungkook frowns. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, I mean.”

He smiles. Heartachingly so and God, it hurts so good. 

“I probably should’ve asked when I could kiss you.”

“Meet me in the hallway at midnight, we can kiss then.”

“Deal.”

“Oh, and Jungkook?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I like knowing that you’re the first person to have asked me that.”

“I want many firsts with you, __.”

A soaring feeling takes over you. You feel like running in the direction of the wind, so fast it’d almost feel like flying. 

“We’re off to a good start, then.”

“Yeah. Yeah we are.”

~

The rest of the night breezes you by. A calm taking over you that you hadn’t felt in weeks. A calm that’s only overshadowed by the longing you feel for him. You long to hold him, to kiss him, to brand the new title you now hold. 

Girlfriend. 

You’re his girlfriend. 

Lucy corners you as soon as you two make your way back, sporting casual faces as you both separate into opposite sides of the big garden so as to not draw attention to your absence. He goes back to the grill, an oblivious Mingyu and an all-too-knowing Taehyung waiting for him. You go back to Mai and Kenny, taking Soori in your arms and heading to the kitchen to make her bottle. Lucy follows you then, concern and curiosity all over her face until she sees the smile on your face. You barely get the words out before Jimin’s making his way inside the kitchen, too, cutting your conversation short. Nonetheless, she smiles. Pleased enough with what she knows, but not entirely surprised. She’d been rooting for you all along. 

By the time Soori begins to fuss about, you don’t waste a second to put her to bed. Jungkook approaches you and his proximity feels like fire, igniting all sorts of things inside of you. He offers to help and put her to bed but you encourage him to finish up at the grill and spend time with his friends – it’s your last night here after all and the weekend had been full of ups and downs. He deserves this moment of steady ups, to calmly go about his night and enjoy the company that surrounds him. By the time Soori’s tucked into bed, dinner’s ready. You steal glances and knowing smiles from the opposite end of the table, enjoying the relaxed nature he sports and how beautiful it looks on him. Your boyfriend. 

Yeah, of course, a part of you wants to scream it at the top of your lungs. You want to wrap your arms around him and not waste a single second. But you’d be lying if you said the anticipation wasn’t building so sweetly – the thought alone of the night coming to an end as you two come together filling you up with something that feels new. Security. It’s comforting, you think, not having to doubt it for a second. 

With very many helping hands, the dinner table is clear and all that’s left to do is relax by the fire. Soft music playing in the speakers, old tales between old friends being exchanged, accompanied by laughs and smiles. It’s the perfect night, and you think of the irony that it holds. Your morning started with uncertainty, the kind that pangs at your chest and leaves you restless. Now, looking at him, the light coming from the fire dancing across his features, you couldn’t feel more different. Your chest feels airy and for the first time in a while, you’re confident the sleep that will find you tonight will be peaceful. 

After much deliberation, Mai being the voice of reason, it’s decided that it’ll be an early night. There’s packing to do and an early morning that awaits to drive back to the city. You feign a sad face when Lucy reaches for your hand to help you get up from the couch and Jungkook smiles because he knows all too well. You’re a shit liar and in a moment of self-indulgence, he likes holding that knowledge. He likes knowing you. He likes that there’s something in this room that only you and him know, that’s yours to keep. Another part of him wishes to break the distance – cant stand it, even. He wants to sit next to you, to pull you into his lap and feel you against his chest. He wants to whisper things in your ear when the conversation around him grows boring and to feel secluded from the world, even if in a room full of people, because he has you. 

You check on Soori, who’s sound asleep, before you head back to your room. You breeze through the process of packing, too, yet taking your time. It’s thirty minutes to midnight and the anticipation builds inside of you like smoke. When you’re all packed you decide to jump in the shower, letting the warm water wash away the day and make room for a new beginning. You’ve always believed in the healing properties a good shower can hold but this one in particular secures the notion for you. You brush your hair and do your skincare, a smile plastered on your face the whole time, so much so that you barely recognize the reflection in the mirror. You’re about to get into your favorite oversized t-shirt, your tried and true choice of sleepwear but you think again, reaching in the very depths of your suitcase and retrieving a white, cotton slip dress with lace embroidering. It’d been a gift from Lucy, who had gotten tired of your old 90s t-shirt of a golden retriever that was missing an eye from wear and tear. 

You notice the house has grown quiet around you and at exactly 11:59, you stand in front of the door, turning the lights off inside your room and taking a deep breath. You smile, shaking your head as the romantic in you (which could be said is all of you) thinks of the fact that the last time you kissed Jungkook today in the wine cellar, you didn’t imagine your next kiss would be as his girlfriend. 

The universe romances you back, because at exactly midnight you open your door, a gasp leaving your mouth as you’re met directly with Jungkook. You have about enough time to register the smile on his face before he’s grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in, lips on yours before you can even speak. You melt into the kiss, hear the way he sighs against your mouth, making you smile. You wrap your arms around him, fingers carding through his hair as you pull him impossibly closer to you. He pulls away, eager to see your face, but not before your lips meet his again in a single whisper of a kiss, like he can’t fully pull away. 

“Well, hello,” you say.

“You make me a weak man, I’m sorry.”

This makes you laugh, bringing your lips back to his. “Mm, I beg to differ. All the waiting we had to do today required a lot of willpower.”

With his lips still on yours, he mumbles, “yeah, I hated every second of that.”

You push him away, mock shock lacing your features. “Hey, I thought it was quite romantic.”

“I think getting to kiss my girlfriend is even more romantic.” 

He doesn’t give you a second to process the words that leave him, and all you’re left with is his lips on yours and an army of butterflies taking over every inch of your body, leaving you weak at the knees and at his very mercy. Eventually, though, you compose yourself (if only a little).

“Yeah, it kinda sucked not being able to kiss my boyfriend.”

He pulls away, tight grip at your waist still as he cocks an eyebrow at you. “You got a boyfriend, huh?”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was too caught up in the kissing.”

“Who is this little punk anyways?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. “You know, just some guy I found.”

He pulls you in once again. “Lucky bastard.”

“No, I’m the lucky one.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

“Nah, I say we work it out.”

When he pulls you closer, it’s slower this time. Head leaning to the side, a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth before he kisses you. He takes his time, taking the lead as you melt into him, letting him guide your tongue with his. You get lost in him, so much so you lose track of time, too focused on the way he claims your mouth, on the way his hands feel as they skim down your body. You almost don’t hear the way you moan against his mouth, fully reacting to him. 

When you remove your mouth from his, his lips land on your neck as he peppers open mouthed kisses over your skin. 

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this here,” you tell him, closing your eyes at the sensation before drawing your head back involuntarily, granting him more access. “Someone could– come out and see.”

“I don’t care.”

It takes you a minute to register his words and also the certainty of his tone when he says them. “You don’t?”

This makes him stop. “Do you?”

“I– I don’t know. Do you not?”

“I don’t, no.”

“But-”

“You’re my girlfriend. This should’ve not been a secret for a while now.”

“Oh.”

“But we can take as much time as you need,” he says, calmly scanning your eyes to try and read your thoughts. 

“No, no. I– I just want you to feel ready.”

“I’m ready.”

“Are you sure? We have… all the time in the world.”

“Yeah, so why waste it?”

You smile at his words. “How would we go about it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I could just… bring it up? Namjoon’s gonna freak out.”

You both laugh. “Lucy already knows.”

“Oof. Jiminie’s gonna be mad he didn’t find out before her.”

“Our best friends are dating.” You widen your eyes, making Jungkook chuckle at your sweetness.

“Yeah, and so are we. That’s kinda cool, isn’t it?”

“Does that mean we get to…,” you feel shy all of a sudden, hiding your face slightly so you don’t face him, “go on double dates and stuff?”

“Yes, angel. We get to go on all kinds of dates.”

“I’m excited about that. I’m excited, Jungkook.”

“Me too, baby.” He pecks your lips once before he pulls away, leaving you pouting and needy for more. “I’m gonna have to get a new nanny.”

His words make you pull away slightly, shock evident all over your face. “What? Why? What do you mean?”

“No, baby,” he laughs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… well, I want us to go places together, just us two.”

“Lucy can babysit. She’s good with kids, plus Jimin’s used to babysitting her and she’s very comfortable around her and–”

His hands cup your cheeks, bringing your forehead to his. He can’t quite put into words, the way it makes him feel when you talk about Soori like this. With an overprotectiveness he’s only ever seen in, well, himself. 

“Okay, baby.”

“Okay.”

He smiles, thumb caressing your cheek and he can’t help but chuckle. Your own laughter is soft, rolling your eyes a bit at his teasing. The next kiss he presses against your lips is tender, and you melt into him, sinking into the feeling and surrendering to his touch. Your body’s used to him, lips familiar with his own but your heart can’t help but feel like this moment is full of firsts. The hand that holds your waist grips tighter, his chest now flushed to yours. You can feel his breathing, taste his lips, touch his skin as it gets warmer with the heat of your kiss. Words of need are about to escape your mouth but before they can, Soori’s baby monitor is going off on Jungkook’s phone. He sighs, giving a little out of breath chuckle before he’s reaching for his pocket and retrieving his phone. 

“Is she okay,” you ask, peeking into the screen to see her on the baby cam. 

“Yep, just awake. Maybe it’s just taking her a while to adjust to the new sleeping environment.”

“Yeah, that sounds about it.”

“I’m gonna go check on her.”

“I can come with,” you tell him, fingers coming to his face to push a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“No, baby, it’s okay. Go to my room and wait for me there, I’ll only be a minute.”

“Alright.”

You smile as he leans in, lips capturing yours in a quick peck that doesn’t fail to steal your breath away nonetheless. He makes his way to Soori’s nursery and you cross the hallway, heading to his room. His bed looks inviting and it’s only when your head touches the pillow that the weight of the day seems to fall upon you. You feel like you’ve lived a variety of realities today. From hopeful, to hopeless to… this. Now. Waiting for him in his bed, his scent that still lingers on the pillows sending a troop of butterflies to your stomach as you take him in. Your body yearns for him, wants him, and perhaps not all sexually. Just holding him, breathing him in, could be enough you reckon. 

You miss the way your eyes grow heavy, body nuzzling into the sheets, and it’s only when Jungkook walks through the door that you notice you’d fallen asleep. 

“Hi,” you say, the grogginess in your voice making him smile. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” he says, getting into bed with you and pulling you closer in one swift movement until his arm is wrapped around your waist and your foreheads are nearly touching. 

“It’s okay. How long were you gone for?” 

“Like twenty minutes. She was a bit fussy.” Your eyes widen in surprise, it’d felt like no time had passed at all. “You tired, baby?”

“I don’t know.”

He laughs. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“My body is but my mind is not. I’m too… happy.”

“I’m happy, too.” He kisses you, pulling away too quickly for your taste but when the back of his hand gently caresses your cheek you rejoice in the pleasure of the simple act. “Thank you.”

Opening your eyes, you look confused. “What for?”

“Everything. Understanding, being with me… not just now but, in general. It makes me feel… like everything’s going to be okay.”

“Everything is going to be okay. The angels just told me.”

He laughs, loud and so very beautiful. “They did?”

“Yeah. What are you laughing for?”

“Nothing, nothing. You’re right. Bet they talk to you, considering that, you know, you’re part of the gang.”

“The gang?”

“Of angels.”

“I know what you mean I just can’t believe you called them a gang.”

“Fine. The troop.”

“That’s almost worse.”

“You’re not unpleased often but when you are… oof.”

You smile, with your eyes first before it meets your lips and for some reason Jungkook finds the act so seductive. Some reason is cutting him slack, actually. He knows the reason. He knows all of the reasons. 

“Please me then.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? You’re not too tired?”

You shake your head. “No, baby.”

He kisses you, words a murmur against your lips when he says, “we can go slow.”

“Mm, yeah. I like that.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, a lazy smile on your lips when he pulls away and that’s all the confirmation he needs. The mere notion of having you soon sends his body into overdrive in sheer anticipation. Your skin is soft as he runs his hand down your arm, reaching your leg before it’s making its way back up under your nightgown. You sigh, eyes on his before they’re closing at the feeling of his touch on your bare skin. You’re receptive to him, tonight more than ever and you don’t miss the way he adorns your skin with goosebumps everywhere he touches. His hand closes around your ass cheek before he squeezes. He groans, making you smile. When you open your eyes, his are impossibly dark and fixated on you. You kiss him, nimble fingers making a descend down his torso, stopping under his navel before you touch the soft skin of his abdomen under his shirt. He hisses against your lips when your hand finds his cock over his sweatpants, hard. You close your palm around him, thumb moving against the head and the friction alone has him groaning against your mouth. 

“Fuck,” he says, voice deep in a whisper.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah, so good.”

You hum against his lips, hand coming inside his pants and wrapping around his cock. He feels hot and heavy in your hold already and he sounds even prettier now than he did before. So supple for you, so needy. It makes you want to give him the world and then some. You jerk him for longer than either of you can register, too distracted by the way your lips meet sloppy and lazily in a kiss that seems to have no end. Jungkook gets carried away, a sweet sinking feeling in his lower stomach making him regain consciousness as he brings his hand to yours to halt your movements. 

“Shit– I was so close,” he pants, grip tightening on your hand. 

“Why not? I want it. Please.”

He shakes his head. “Wanna fuck you.”

And you want that too, yet something about the way you two were kissing, his little moans and groans against your mouth as you felt his cock throb in your hand has you making a mental note to come back to this at some point. Easy, simple, like you have all the time in the world. 

And you do. 

“How do you want me, Kook?”

He looks into your eyes for a beat too long, as if contemplating the endless possibilities. 

“Fuck, come here, baby.”

He kisses you deep, towering a bit over you as he presses you against the mattress before he’s holding your waist and swiftly turning you to the side until your back is flushed against his front. You feel his cock against your ass, backing up a little to feel him better and he whines, forehead falling on your shoulder. He takes your panties off in a second, your hazy mind barely noticing until the warmth of his fingers finds the place you want him in the most. 

“You’re so wet, baby.”

“Want you so bad, Jungkook.”

You turn your head to face him better, give him a fucked out smile that has his cock jumping for attention between your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, lips so close to being on yours. Your cheeks grow a new shade of crimson and he smiles, kissing you finally. 

“Thank you. I think you are.” You can barely finish your sentence, words getting caught in a little gasp as his middle and ring finger circle your entrance. He coats them in your slick before they find your clit, running lazy circles against it and making you jolt slightly in his hold at the sensation. “That feels so nice.”

“Can’t wait to have my cock in here,” he presses his fingers into your opening, ever so slowly, making you whine as you back into them. “Stay still, __. Be patient.”

“Please,” you beg, looking into his eyes before they grow heavy in pleasure as he begins to move his fingers inside of you. 

“You’re so fucking tight it drives me insane, baby.”

“Y-yeah?” your voice is a whimper. 

“Yeah. ‘S all mine, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Jungkook.” You moan his name, can feel the way he smiles against your cheek before he’s pressing a kiss against it, slowly moving towards your ear, his breath on the sensitive spot making you shiver. 

“Say it.”

“It’s your pussy, Jungkook. Only yours. I’m only yours.”

“Yeah, baby. You are. All fucking mine.”

He fucks his fingers into you one last time before he’s abruptly pulling out, making you gasp and close your legs at the loss of friction. He wastes little time, bringing your ass to him before he’s spitting into hand and bringing it down to his cock, coating it over his head and down his shaft. He grips at the base, aligning himself against your opening and slowly pushing inside. You both sigh, turning back to meet his face before your laughter combined fills the room. It’s sweet, the way you share this moment with him, his lips on yours not long after, the kiss deepening with each thrust. 

“That feels so good, Kook,” you say, bringing your forehead to rest on his. 

“Yeah. Love fucking you, baby.”

“Fuck me forever,” you look into his eyes as you say this, playful sure, but words filled with intention. 

“Fuck, I’m trying,” he chuckles, “so far, so good.”

He holds onto your hips, fucks you deeper and hits that spot, making your back arch and your eyes roll. “So good.”

His hand travels up, sneaking under your nightgown as he finds your breasts, palm closing around it before he pinches your nipples, pulling sweet little sounds out of you. He fucks you slow but deep, paying close attention to the way your body reacts to him. To the way your moans turn into whines when he goes deeper, the way your hand closes around his under the soft fabric, the way your pussy clenches around his big cock. You begin to unravel in his arms, feeling the way his hand travels down, missing his touch already. He lays his hand on your lower stomach before he’s pressing into the soft flesh, the whine that leaves your lips high pitched at the feeling. 

“Do it again,” you plead, “and fuck me harder.”

He complies, pace growing a tad bit faster and deeper until he can feel what he’s doing to you on the palm of his hand. You press your face into the pillow, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as your breathing grows erratic, teeth closing around your bottom lip.

“Gonna cum for me, angel?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, Jungkook.”

“Let go, baby. Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

His words against your neck are all it takes for you to let go, growing very still for a second before you’re cumming in short little spasms and God, it feels so good. He coaxes you through it, words of praise leaving his lips as he places pillowy kisses all over your skin, making you shiver. The bliss takes over your body as you come down, turning to him and locking his lips on yours. 

“That was so good,” you tell him, voice soft and sweet and it drives him insane. 

“You feel so good.” He sounds a bit delirious, mind fixated on the way your pussy throbs around his cock. 

“Want you to cum, baby. Want your cum, please.”

His dick jumps inside of you, he’s sure you can feel it. “Fuck, don’t talk like that.”

You giggle. “Why?”

“I’ll cum like this.”

You blame your boldness on your post-orgasmic bliss. “Why not?”

He smirks, eyes closing as if taken aback by your words. He shakes his head, “you know we can’t.”

“Yeah, I know,” you give, but something in your voice lets him know you’re only rearing up. “But it feels good to think about it. It feels so good. Do you think about it, Jungkook?”

It takes him a minute to register your words, hips starting to move as he thrusts into you slowly. “Y-yeah, I think about it.”

“Does it feel good when you do?”

“Fuck- it does, baby.”

“Sometimes it’s all I can think about," you confess, "you filling me up…”

He lets you sit with your words for a second before he’s pulling out of you. Partly to compose himself, and partly to push you back against the mattress and hover over you, his body finding a spot between your legs. When he looks at you his gaze has darkened, eyes no longer playful. 

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah. Are you?” You tempt him, words pushing his new demeanor further. 

“You’re a little greedy, aren’t you?” His hand closes around your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure, all the pleasure going to your head as the sensation makes you a little dizzy. 

“Yeah, just for you, Jungkook.”

He wants to bite back, to keep the act up but the truth is that your words dismantle him, cock throbbing in painful pleasure and he needs to cum. He crashes his lips into yours, bringing his hips down and gripping at his base until he’s pushing inside you again. It doesn’t take long for him to get back to where he was, so fucking close, mind in a haze as he still takes in your words from earlier. It takes all his willpower not to bust inside of you right now, the way you moan against his lips only edging him further. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He pulls out, pumping himself a couple of times before he’s cumming all over your tummy, painting the tan of your skin. His face contorts in pleasure, wet strands of black hair falling against his forehead as he bites his lip. It takes him a couple of seconds to recover, holding onto your waist as he takes in the sight before him. He thinks the image of you coated in his cum could make him hard again, and if he wasn’t sure enough then, he is now. His eyes follow your every move as you bring a finger down to your stomach, running it over a white stripe before you’re bringing it to your lips, sucking on it for emphasis before you’re swallowing. 

“I guess that’s an upside to no creampies. I get to taste it,” you smile, finger between your lips still. 

His eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape and when he can’t form words, cock jumping at your filthy actions, he says,

“Holy fuck, give me a second.”

You laugh, bringing his face to yours, kissing him deep and slow, tongue playing with his and he just lets you. 

Your next words are a whisper,

“We got all the time in the world, remember?”

~

Your side of the bed is empty.

It takes Jungkook a while to notice, his body struggling to fully wake up and mind begging him to turn off the irritating sound of his alarm. His arm reaches out but it’s only met with the soft fabric of his sheets. He frowns, a bit more awake now, opening his eyes slowly to make sure his sense of touch isn’t betraying him. He looks around the room, the door to his bathroom closed, everything oddly quiet with the exception of his alarm. He quietens it down, sitting up and running a hand through his messy locks. He reaches for his phone, checking up on Soori through the baby cam. The frown that dents his forehead from not waking up next to you softens the minute he takes the sight before him in. You’re in her nursery, sitting on the floor and she sits in front of you. You get her attention when you show her two dresses to pick from. She goes for a cute pink one with frills and bows at the shoulders. He scrunches his nose in endearment, leaning back into the pillows to enjoy the show a little longer. He gives himself the luxury of just looking at the two of you. The way she hands you one of her plushies and you pause on the task of getting her dressed just so you can play with her. You put on a british accent, pulling faces as you make the toy frog speak. Soori giggles, imitating you with babbles and cute faces. It feels like she does something new every day and seeing the two of you interact leaves no doubt in his mind that he’s got you to thank for it. 

He feels peace as he enters the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth – phone propped up on the counter, giggling when Soori’s happy shrieks come alive through the speakers. And yeah, it’s not the first time he’s thought it, but in this moment Jungkook thinks that he could get used to this. He could really get used to this. 

The house is quiet around him when he steps outside of his bedroom and into the hallway. 7:15 – still early for everyone except his daughter, and you apparently. He makes his way to her nursery, sneakily peeking through the door, but the moment he steps a foot inside the room he’s got two pair of bambi eyes looking up at him. 

“Look who’s up, Soo Soo,” you say, pointing at Jungkook and making Soori shriek in excitement at the sight of her dad. 

Jungkook smiles as he walks to you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips as he says, “good morning, baby.” You bring Soori up, raising her towards him and she giggles when he places a kiss on her forehead and says, “good morning, princess.”

“Say good morning, daddy,” you look at her, kissing her on the cheek and laughing when all she does is babble a string of dada’s. “That’s good enough.”

Jungkook sits in front of you, Soori in the middle and deep in debate on whose attention to get first. Jungkook wins and she crawls over to him, abruptly landing on his lap. He laughs, picking her up and peppering kisses on her plump cheeks. “Was she up really early?”

“Kinda. I was gonna let her sleep a bit more but she was fussy.”

“Could be sleep regression.”

“I love it when you talk dad to me.”

“Ha. Good, plenty more where that came from.”

You smile. “Hey, come here, missy. I still need to do your hair.”

Jungkook passes her over to you, but not before taking her back in his arms right before you’re about to catch her, her sweet laughter filling the room. “Okay, okay. Go with Nana.”

She crawls towards you, looking at her dad one last time before she’s nuzzling herself in the middle of your crossed legs, hands busy with her toys as you work on her pigtails. You have an assortment of bows in front of you, indecisive still on which ones to use. Jungkook just observes you – doesn’t miss how gentle you are with her, how she finds her spot between your legs and just stays there. He can’t remember the last time she stayed still while he did her hair. 

He thinks you’re magic. 

“All done,” you say, opening your hands at her side for her to take them. “Show daddy, Soo.”

She looks up at Jungkook, smiling at him and he melts at her sweet actions. “You look so stinkin’ cute, princess.” You went with the white bows, a little too big for the thin strings of hair that comes out of her pigtails but it only makes her look ten times cuter. You stand her up and she holds onto your thumbs for support, bouncing in place as Jungkook opens his hands towards her. 

“Wanna go to daddy?” You’re about to hold onto her little hands to encourage her but she takes the first step all by herself. You and Jungkook look at eachother, freezing for a second and trying not to move or make any noise so as to not jinx the moment. 

“Oh my God,” he whispers, and just like that, you’re letting go of her hands gently and his daughter is taking her first steps. She’s a bit confused at first but the moment she takes her second, slightly wobbly, step towards him she smiles. She’s in his arms in no time and he brings her closer, hand on her head as he kisses her face. “Good job, baby. I’m so proud of you, Soo Soo. You’re so cool, wow.”

Your hands are still over your mouth, shocked and excited all at once and you can see the way Jungkook’s eyes tear up. It’s only when you blink and it stings that you realize tears had pooled in yours, too. “Wow,” is all you can muster. 

He dries his tears with the back back of his thumb, laughing and shaking his head. “Holy shit. Shit- sorry,” he says to Soori, “don’t repeat that.”

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

He looks at you, that beautiful smile you love plastered all over his face, so big it meets his eyes. “We’re both crying.”

“I know,” you laugh, and he follows, giddy and airy and you can’t seem to stop. “That was so cool.”

“I know right?” He looks at her, placing another kiss on her cheek before he’s placing her back on her feet. “Wanna go to Nana?” 

“Nana!” Soori says, igniting a new set of tears to swell up at your eyes. 

“Come here, baby.” 

And she does, her little legs going faster than she can master yet and falling on the very last step but you catch her, an immediate smile on your face that lets her know she’s safe and she claps when Jungkook does, looking back at him and then back at you, stars in her eyes and surrounded by so much love. 

“Polaroid time!” Jungkook exclaims, sitting up. 

“You brought it?”

“Yeah. I was kinda hoping it would happen this weekend, but I’d lost hope, not gonna lie.”

“Daddy’s always prepared, isn’t he, Soo Soo?”

She claps again, crying for him a second after when she sees him leave the room. You keep her distracted for the minute it takes Jungkook to fetch the camera and come back into the room, another clap from her when she sees him again. You get her, that’s pretty much how you feel too. He sits back down in front of you and you reach for the camera, letting Soori go to him with her newly found walk. She’s still getting the hang of it but she’s so good at it already. You might be biased but you truly do believe she is the smartest baby ever, and moments like these simply prove your point. 

You point the camera at them, Jungkook holding onto Soori as she stands up and they both smile. “Say, Soori walks now!”

“Soori walks noooooow!” It’s picture perfect. They both are. Jungkook reaches for the camera and says, “now one of the two of you.” She walks to you when you beckon her over, falling into your lap and making you both laugh as she stares confusedly at you. Jungkook hides behind the camera and says, “say, Soori’s a velcro baby!” and with that, your smile is turned into laughter, Soori following suit as she looks up at you and the flash goes off. Jungkook smiles, confident on the fact that he’s probably just taken the best picture ever. 

“Let’s take one of the three of us,” you say, scooting closer to him and placing Soori between the two of you. Jungkook extends the camera in front of you and in an instant, the memory is etched in a photograph forever.

 This happens a lot as a parent – a milestone becoming your favorite memory – and it only makes him look forward to the future, and that, for reasons only he understands, takes him by surprise. He looks at the pictures that you arrange in a neat line in front of you, smiling and pointing as you show Soori, who has developed a newly found interest of looking at herself in photos. Jungkook thinks about how once upon a time, he imagined having to do this all by himself. It made him dread the milestones, the excitement, because he always felt like the notion of something missing would haunt him. But so far, the milestones have been nothing but sweet. This one the sweetest thus far and it’s that word – thus far – that stirs something inside of him.

Without giving it much thought he says,

“I want to stay.”

You look at him, smiling. “Ugh, I know. I could easily live by the beach.”

“No, I mean it. I want to stay.”

“Oh–”

“You have three weeks off from book club, right?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Then let’s stay. Just the three of us. I can take time off, too. And we could just… stay.”

“I mean– I,” you don’t know what to say, “could we?”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t bring enough clothes for three weeks.” It’s a shit excuse and the moment it leaves your mouth you both laugh.

“We can go to the nearby town and get whatever we need. I think you’ll really like it, actually. It’s very picturesque.”

“Well, I can’t say no to the beach and picturesque nearby towns…”

“Hm, I know how to get you to stay forever then.” He kisses you, long and deep and you smile against his lips when his words start to sink in. Soori taps Jungkook’s chest and whines, demanding his attention. “What’s up, baby?” She looks back at you, as if claiming you. “Ah, well, you had to learn this at some point. Today we’re gonna learn how to share-”

“Jungkook!” you shove him playfully, taking Soori into your arms and kissing her cheek. “You don’t have to share me, bubby. It’s okay.”

“Hey, I’m teaching her valuable life lessons!”

“How about you share?” you glare at him, pulling Soori closer to you. 

“Tsk. No can do,” he steals another kiss, chuckles meeting your lips and you join him, his happiness contagious. Or maybe it’s your happiness that’s contagious. 

It doesn’t matter, you think. Your happiness and his combined, Soori at the center of your little universe… it’s warmth. It’s pure warmth. 

~

By the time ten a.m. rolls around, the house starts filling up with noise – little kids running around, Jimin and Taehyung bickering in the hallways over who the best superhero is, and everyone wheeling their suitcases out and about, wondering whether they’re forgetting anything and estimated time of arrivals. 

Jungkook and Soori lay in the bed of the guest room you’ve been staying at, lazily playing with Soori’s toy fruit basket as Jungkook makes her plushies sit around in a circle circle and Soori feeds them. You do your makeup, get ready for the day, steal a couple of glances their way as you try and still your heart at the sight alone. You do and undo your hair a couple of times, shifting between a ponytail and letting it down. You opt for letting it down, roll your eyes when you realize you subconsciously (or very consciously) do it because it’s how Jungkook likes it best. And hey, you’re all for feminism, but can’t you just enjoy being his silly, little girlfriend for a moment? Surely you get a hall pass for being in the honeymoon stage alone. 

“‘Kay, I’m all done,” you say, stepping back into the room and blushing the moment his eyes are on yours and he smirks. You’re wearing a white sundress, so very you, and he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume from where he stands. He makes a slow circle with his index finger and you roll your eyes, attitude easily dismantled the moment he says, “please” and so you give in, spinning around once as he whistles. 

“Gorgeous,” he says, emphasis on the s.

“Thank you,” you sound collected, which is a partial truth. “Shall we head downstairs?”

“Let’s go, I’m starving,” he leaves the bed, taking Soori in his arms and laughing when she makes grabby hands at the floor. “I see how it is…”

“We must encourage her,” you say, taking her from him and placing her on the floor. She looks up at you, then at Jungkook, and just like that she’s sitting on the floor, a pout forming on her lips before she’s letting out a cry. “No, no, baby! We’re here!”

“Yeah, princess, look!” and she does, sniffling some as she makes grabby hands at Jungkook. He looks at you, guilt settling all over his face and fighting the urge to not pick her up. Said urge is about to win, but you’re faster than the temptation. 

“Kook, she won’t want to walk… you can’t pick her up now.”

“But—,” he says, but deep down knows you’re right, “fine.”

“It’s okay, Soo. Look, we’ll hold your hands and we can all walk! Isn’t walking so much fun?”

He doesn’t know how you do it, because in an instant she’s back on her feet, one hand holding onto him and the other onto you, and the three of you are making your way down the hallway. Going down the stairs is fun, her laughter filling the air as she bounces on each step and you both swing her gently. 

She doesn’t fail to get everyone’s attention and the second you three enter the living room she’s got all eyes on her, excitedly waiting for her appearance. Jungkook looks up at his friends, doesn’t miss the way they all hold their breaths as they see their niece hitting a milestone – one of many they have and will be around for. 

“Good morning, everyone. Look what Soori can do,” he says, letting go of her hand and you follow. She stands there for a second, wobbly legs threatening to give out but she stands her ground, smiling at the people she loves the most in the world, all gathered in a room and gawking at her with stars in their eyes. Taehyung kneels down, clapping once and opening his arms for her, making Soori shriek in excitement and waddle towards him before falling into his arms. He’s crying, holding onto her and showering praises against her cheek in-between kisses. They all join him, gathering around her and taking turns loving on her. 

“Well, I think that’s all the encouragement she needs,” you say, laughing and taking in the sweet sight before you. 

Hobi picks her up, taking her into his arms and kissing her temple. “Bad day for you to be cooped up inside a car for two hours huh, baby?”

“We’re gonna stay.”

Kenny looks up at him, taking Soori from Hoseok. “Huh?”

“Yeah. The three of us are, actually.”

Everyone’s eyes are on the two of you, so naturally they don’t miss the way Jungkook’s hand wraps around yours the moment the word “us”  leaves his mouth. A silence falls around the room, so dense that you’re convinced everyone can hear how loud your heart is beating, your hand gripping Jungkook’s in an attempt to ground yourself. Not that you didn’t see this moment coming, because you did, but you can’t help but admit it’s a bit nerve racking, to be perceived by all of them at once. Your eyes look for Lucy, not surprised when you see a cheeky smile plastered across her face, Jimin looking up at her in confusion. 

Yoongi’s the first one to break the ice, always one to bring balance into any situation. “Well, that’s a well deserved vacation, Jungkookie. I’m happy for you.” He looks at you when he says that last sentence, offering a warm smile you don’t fail to return. 

“Yeah!” Namjoon yells out, startling you. “It was about time— for your vacation, I mean.”

“Joon,” Iseul says, shoving his arm discreetly.

 That’s all it takes for all of you to break into laughter, Jungkook looking at you for a second before he’s looking back at his friends. Taehyung looks at him, muttering a silent, “fucking finally,” his way and raising his hands to the sky in prayer. Jungkook rolls his eyes at him but deep down, he’s thankful for his friend and for his words of advice from the beginning. 

“Well then, let’s have one last family breakfast before we have to hit the road,” Hobi says, bouncing Soori on his lap before he looks at you, “how do you take your coffee, __?”

“Um, iced americano.”

“Easy! I’ll get on it— oh, like Kookie! So, two?” Kenny asks, smiling at you, something in her eyes that you understand. A bond, perhaps, or simply more happiness combined. 

“Yep. Thank you, Ken.” Jungkook smiles at her, squeezing your hand one more time before walking the two of you to the garden alongside everyone else. He leans over, whispering so only you can hear, “that went well.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Sorry for being blunt I just— I don’t know. I wanted them to know.”

“It was perfect,” you look at him, a sweet smile on your face and God, he wants to kiss you so bad. But as much as he wants to, he doesn’t know where you stand when it comes to PDA — so much to figure out and it feels sweet to him, the beginning stages of a relationship. Of your relationship.

You sit down next to Jimin, looking up at Jungkook who tells you he’s gonna help in the kitchen. You nod and smile when he leans down and places a tender kiss on the side of your head, blushing and feeling shy all of a sudden but the moment doesn’t linger for long.

“We can go on double dates now!” Jimin says, face nuzzled between his hands as he sighs.

You laugh. “You know, I had the same thought.”

He grows serious all of sudden, making you feel slightly anxious. “I’m happy for you guys, __. Really happy.”

You smile. “Thank you, Jimin. I’m really happy, too.”

He returns the smile for a second before it falls, leaving you confused. “Can’t believe you told Lucy first. I thought we had a real friendship going on, __!”

And while you try to reassure Jimin that you two do indeed have a real friendship going on, Mai intercepts Jungkook on his way to the kitchen, holding onto his shoulders and startling him. 

“Jesus Christ, Mai.”

She stares at him for a second too long before the biggest smile forms on her face. “Eeeeeek!” she shakes him a bit, jumping up and hugging him. Jungkook laughs, wrapping his arms around her middle. “I’m so happy! Oh, you so owe me one,” she says, “but I’ll settle for a thank you. For now.”

“Thank you, Mai.”

“You’re so welcome!” she hugs him again. “I’m a really good cupid.”

“So this was your plan all along?”

“Well, no. My plan was really to find you a nanny. The fact that she was pretty, charming and sweet were all add ons with loads of potential. And I see potential where potential is due,” she winks at him, chuckling when she sees the way he blushes at her words, being taken back to very many years ago and to an eighteen year old Jungkook. She never thought she’d see it again, but boy is she glad she gets to. 

“Yeah, well, thank you. I mean it. She’s… special, isn’t she?” He says, looking out the window, his eyes finding you. You can’t see him but you’re smiling, laughing as you attempt to keep up with Jimin and Jin who seem to be talking your ears off. 

“Oh, no,” she says, making his head turn back towards her. “She’s more than that, Kook. She’s magic.”

And he smiles because he knows. 

He really, truly knows. 

~

In the course of five hours, Soori has not only learned how to walk, no. Soori’s a runner now. Perhaps runner is an exaggeration, yes. A fast walker a more accurate way to describe her, but you can’t help the hyperbole when she quite literally runs away from you as you attempt to get her pink converse on her left foot. The right foot was a success, distracted enough by the sunglasses she’d snatched from your head. The left one is bare and aids her into running away from what she probably deemed a boring activity. Arms up and giggles filling the air, she’s promptly stopped by Jungkook’s arms that catch her in the act. 

“Are you gonna turn me into a kid’s-leash-parent, Soori Blue?” 

Jungkook partly blames Jin for this, and recalls how just a couple of hours ago he took to play-pretend chasing her all over the garden, claiming “this is how my dad taught me how to walk!” and yes, perhaps he’d helped develop her confidence but now he’s made her a runaway and that’s… pretty fucking funny, if he’s honest. 

Soori snatches Jungkook’s own sunglasses from over his head, confidently stating, “Nana!”

“No, baby, these are daddy’s. Let’s get your shoes on.”

“She’s a runner,” you say, passing him the cute pink converse you’d held onto since the betrayal. 

“Do we need a leash? Be honest with me right now.”

You laugh. “No… Yes? I don’t know. I don’t think so. Those look so barbaric!”

“She doesn’t even have that long of legs, how is she so fast?”

“It’s the inertia,” you say, bringing your arms up and imitating her prior movements. 

Jungkook ties her shoe, braving through the way she ruffles his hair, a couple of strands getting caught in his now messy locks and pulling some. He winces — she’s also become ten times more mobile in the past five hours, or so it seems. You argue that she’s simply full of adrenaline now, helping get her chubby hands away from the strands and smoothing Jungkook’s hair out in the process. 

“All done and ready to go,” he says, smiling at you and then looking back at Soori, “you ready to go in the stroller? Yayyyyy, the stroller!” his saccharine voice and smile makes her clap and both of you let out a sigh of relief. 

Her desire to be running out and about does make the process of getting everything — and everyone — packed into the car a bit more difficult, and she fusses a little when he straps her to her carseat, but for the most part you consider the task successful, your hands meeting in a celebratory high-five as soon as Jungkook steps inside the driver’s seat. 

“Wanna play music,” he asks, handing you his phone.

You take it, smiling when you see his wallpaper — a cute picture of Soori, probably taken a couple of months back. She smiles into the camera, and it’s all you can see, half of her face covered in one of Jungkook’s beanies, a couple sizes too big for her. “I’m in a Fleetwood Mac kick lately.”

“Of course you are,” he says, backing into the driveway and stealing a glance your way, a smirk plastered on his face. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re an old soul, baby. Like God made a bit of a mistake making you Gen Z.”

You gasp, and then contemplate it a bit and realize that, fair enough, he’s got a point. “You’re kinda right. I am quite old school.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, hand coming to rest on your thigh comfortably, “but I’m glad you came into this timeline because I get to have you and your Fleetwood Mac kicks.”

You laugh, the soft chords of Silver Springs’ intro filling the enclosed space around you. “We would’ve met in another timeline, too, I think. We would’ve been so cool. We would’ve been listening to this live!”

“Yeah, and doing shrooms in a field somewhere whilst Dreams played in the background and you would’ve probably had bangs.”

“I would’ve 100% been a hippie, and you would’ve been a yuppie and so very dapper. Enemies to lovers.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “I wonder how that would’ve worked out.”

You feign deep contemplation for a second. “In missionary so we could keep arguing.”

“Oof. Take me back then.”

“Jeon Jungkook?”

He chuckles, squeezing the inside of your thigh. “Ah, baby, don’t worry. I’ll argue with you in missionary in all of our timelines.”

“I’m relieved,” you say, rolling your eyes dramatically but the smile that forms at your lips is one that’s too big to hide, succeeding at being flustered by your boyfriend. 

The rest of the ride looks pretty much like that — Fleetwood Mac, your fingers intwined in his over your leg, and more of the flirty back and forth that seems to pull new shades of red on your cheeks every time. You make a mental prayer for the ride to last just a little bit longer, but can’t say you’re disappointed once you finally make it into the picturesque nearby town Jungkook had told you about. It is, indeed, picturesque, almost like something from another time. Restaurants lining the streets, tables lining the terraces and beautiful people adorning the very scene. Everything seems to be a paler shade of white, green and yellow, brickstone shaping most of the facades and you begin to recognize the name brands rather quickly. Gucci, Prada, Dior and the like, as well as some boutiques you haven’t heard of before that look just as expensive. But hey, you do see a Domino’s Pizza. That’s a win in your book. 

You’re so enthralled by the surroundings that you don’t realize Jungkook has parked the car and is about to make his exit. A bit dumbstruck still you follow in his steps, eyes widening when you realize that this place even smells expensive. It also smells a bit like lemon sorbet and that seems to be even more shocking than the latter. 

“Do they have, like, an H&M around here?”

Jungkook turns to you as he unbuckles Soori’s belt, “a what?”

“An H&M. You don’t know H&M?” Your voice a mix between indignation and shock.

“The store?”

“Yes!”

“Ah,” he nods his head, “no.”

“You don’t?”

“I mean, I do. I don’t know that I’ve seen one around here, though. Why?”

You take Soori from him as he walks to the trunk to pull out her stroller. “These are all really fancy stores… I—”

He unfolds the stroller in one swift moment, looking up at you from under his sunglasses, a black lock coming loose over his forehead. “Don’t worry about that, baby. It’s my treat, okay?”

“I can’t let you do that.” You don’t meet his eyes, sitting Soori inside the cushiony seat of her stroller and buckling her in.

“Why,” he asks, nonchalantly. 

“Because. You don't have to do that. I can just wash the clothes I brought, it’s no big deal.”

“Hm,” he walks over to you, pulling you closer by the waist and placing a kiss against your cheek. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. So let me? Please?”

“Jungkook—”

“Please.”

He hits you with the puppy eyes, and you can’t believe you’re actually having this conversation with him right now. What’s worse, you can't believe you’re about to agree, unable to deal with confrontation, even if it’s this silly. “Okay but… moderation.”

He laughs. “Are you policing my expenses now?”

“No. Well, yes. Don’t I get a say?” You cross your arms, hip jutting slightly and he smirks at the attitude. 

“No.” and with that, he begins to walk, pushing the stroller and turning his head to look at you and say, “you coming?”

You roll your eyes, catching up to him and circling your arm around his. “I’m not used to… gifts.”

“I know, baby. Didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s not uncomfortable just… weird. But not necessarily in a bad way.”

“Yeah, I get it. I do wanna treat you, though. For no other reason than just wanting to. So just enjoy it, yeah? For me?” You nod your head once, looking down at the floor but smiling. “Thank you,” he says, finding your temple and leaning his forehead against it.

“So, what first?”

He looks around, considering his options. “Miu Miu? You look like a Miu Miu girl.”

“I do?” you ponder, more to yourself than to him and this makes him chuckle.

“Yeah, let’s check it out, come on.”

And Jungkook is a very wise man because, yes. You are a Miu Miu girl. A Dior girl, too. Hell, you even dabble in some Gucci if you do say so yourself. Jungkook, in your very humble opinion, is a Prada boy, but you can’t deny your favorite is Jungkook the Calvin Klein boy. You swear you’ve never seen anyone fit into a pair of jeans so perfectly, and for this you envy him a little. A little a lot. You spend the afternoon exploring the very many options the world of high fashion has to offer. Dresses, shoes (they make expensive flip flops, to your surprise), shirts and pants and at some point, you take Jungkook’s advice and stop looking at the price tag. Advice isn’t quite the word, it’s more of a demand. You’re not suddenly unaware of the hefty splurging taking place, no, but you must admit that it makes the experience ten times better. The two of you laugh at the extravagant, odd pieces some brands sell, try on unflattering sunglasses and make a runway out of the dressing rooms. Jungkook makes you show him every single thing you try and by the third time he does it, you stop pretending to be annoyed at his boyish reactions. Your boyfriend is the biggest hypeman, making you twirl and spin and showering you in praises, making the choosing part a little harder than it’d usually be. 

You don’t fall too far off, though, and quickly enough watching Jungkook try on clothes becomes your new favorite thing. Can you be blamed? He looks good in everything, can pretty much rock every style and you get to see him take off his shirt an innumerable amount of times. You have to compose yourself and make a mental effort not to gawk at him. If luck was ever in your favor, it’d be today. 

Soori also reaps off the benefits of Jungkook’s little (big) shopping spree, and soon enough you find out that nothing brings him as much pleasure as shopping for her. He picks the coolest pieces, a perfect mix between girly and the tomboyish style you secretly know is his favorite. Comfy and cute in her oversized t-shirts and Carhartt baby clothes. She also gets a new pair of sneakers for her newly found hobby and tests them out by running around the store, making every sales associate swoon over her. So much so they actually whine when you three walk out the door, waving their goodbyes. 

“I get it now,” you blurt out, getting Jungkook’s attention. “The whole shop ‘til you drop thing, I get it now. It’s real.”

He chuckles, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I did. Could watch you take off your shirt, like, eleven thousand more times.”

He tries to hide how flustered he is by smiling, lowering his voice when he says, “we don’t have to go shopping to do that.”

“You’re right, what a lucky girl I am.”

“Lucky? Lucky me. I should buy you eleven thousand more dresses just so I can experience this more often.”

He makes you blush, but what’s new? 

“Let’s not be greedy now.”

“Oh, but you want me shirtless forever?”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s what I deserve!”

And he can’t deny you. Matter of fact, he’s about to let you know that much but something catches his eye. He stops in his tracks and makes you pause, too, confused for a second as you follow his line of vision. 

Agent Provocateur.

It’s pink, fun, sexy, and indeed provocative, and that’s just going by the window display alone. This one you are slightly familiar with, having taken a couple of trips with Lucy in the past just to admire the overpriced lingerie and gasp in shock when you discovered the wonders of the ouvert panty. You sure do learn something new everyday.

“We forgot to get you underwear,” he says, a shit excuse for nonchalance lacing his tone. 

“Ah, but I’m a girl. I packed underwear for, like, a month.”

“That so,” he asks, eyes still on the shop’s window. 

“Yep.”

“I mean, you could never have too much underwear.”

You laugh. “I really don’t need it, Kook. It’s okay.”

“I do,” he states, looking at you with a smirk.

“Hm. Why don’t you go in and pick something out for me then? I’ll take Soori on a little walk, I think she could use it.”

“You’re giving me free will to get you anything I want inside a lingerie store?”

“Yep.”

“This is the best day of my life.”

“Go to town, baby. The world is your oyster!”

Jungkook’s off, not before laying a kiss on your lips and another on Soori’s forehead, excitedly walking towards the store and then gaining back some of his composure the moment he’s about to step inside. He’s out of sight in a matter of seconds and you laugh in disbelief. What is your life? 

“Soori, you should be so glad you won’t remember this when you’re older,” you say, kneeling down in front of her and smoothing out her hair. 

“Nanananana.”

“Let’s go get ice cream and walk around, yeah?”

Your suggestion is met with excited clapping from her part and just like that, you’re off on an adventure of your own. It doesn’t take you long to locate the most delectable ice cream you’ve ever laid eyes on, in the cutest shop. Everything is pastel and old school and it fits the vibe of the town so well you wonder if every single shop in this town got the memo. Domino’s pizza being the hard exception, of course. You go for the strawberry sorbet and a bit of hazelnut for balance, as recommended by the ice cream expert behind the counter. On a cone, of course. Soori’s a simple girl — chocolate and vanilla on a little cup. You find a bench, sitting the two of you down as you multitask feeding her and feeding yourself, but soon enough it all becomes pretty democratic as she takes licks from your cone and you steal spoonfuls of ice cream from her cup. Ha, and Jungkook thought she couldn’t share! 

With that thought alone you invoke him, jumping a bit when he appears seemingly out of nowhere. Your facial expressions take turns, to say the least. From fright, to surprise, to happiness, to shock, to fright again. He smiles— no. He smirks. He smirks, knowingly, deviously, even as he leans down and takes a bite out of the chocolate ice cream you’d scooped up for Soori. Your eyes fixate on him, eyes narrowing before they land on the multiple pink shopping bags he holds in one hand. 

“Did you buy underwear for a whole village?”

He throws his head back in laughter. “You’d hate that, actually.”

“Correct,” you pause for emphasis, “Jungkook, what the heck?”

“What? They had a good sale going on.”

“Really?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, God.”

“Jeez, can’t I just treat my girl to sexy lingerie?”

You raise a menacing eyebrow at him. “Just me?”

“It’s a win-win, baby. It’s a win-win.”

You smile, unable to deny him as much as he’s unable to deny you. “Can I see?”

He brings the bags closer to his chest and gasps, feigning shock. “These are for my eyes only.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’ll like them, though,” he winks. “I’m starving.”

“I have an idea!”

“Do tell.”

“Let’s go home, I’ll buy us Domino’s Pizza and we can watch a movie, my treat.”

“You’re spoiling me now.”

“Ah, what can I say,” you say, standing up and taking Soori into your arms, her chocolate covered cheeks forming a smile on her face. “I like to share my riches.”

“I’m rich,” he walks closer to you, hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer.

You huff, “trust me, we know.”

“Not like that,” he looks at you, arm tightening around you until your feet are hovering above the floor a bit, pulling smiles out of you like it’s easy and that’s the thing, it is easy because it’s him. “Like this,” he says, emphasizing his point with a kiss to your lips, letting you know that he means it.

No doubt in the world that he does.

~

When you first fell in love with writing, it wasn’t much for the idea of storytelling. Instead, that very first spark that turned an interest into a passion came from the purpose of safe keeping memories. If you could keep a moment safe by the immortality of your words, you thought, the inevitability of time could be avoided. Or well, it would make it all worth it, at least, like you lived for a reason. Everything you experienced — whether it was pain, happiness, worry, surprise — it would all come to an end eventually, but your words would remain, etched in time for the sole purpose of proving that it happened. That you were there, alive and feeling and that it was all worth it because your words could now live forever.

You sit on the couch, the living room lights dim, perfectly complementing the atmosphere as the rain falls in incessant showers outside the tall windows. The sound is comforting, a candle burning and the notion of the ocean at such close proximity easing you all over. You can still smell it, you think, mixed with the rain and him.

Him, him, him. 

You smell him on your skin, your hair. You smell him on the hoodie you’d stolen from his closet, the one he’d worn today and discarded before getting in the shower. The scent triggers the muscle memory in your heart and you think of him, a smile escaping you before you can fully make up his face in your mind. The warmth takes up every inch of you and it reminds you of his touch, his arms around you, the sun and the fire and the love you have for him. 

You stop writing, too distracted to string words together now that the thought of him has turned so physical, affecting your ability to do much more than simply think about him. You place your pen in the middle of your journal’s spine, marking the page as you feather through your previous entries. Five days. You’ve been together for five days, four spent in the peace of your little universe. You, him and Soori. And to your luck, and the luck of immortalized moments, you’ve used your words to make sure this memory never leaves you. 

You skim through the pages, smiling when a sentence catches your eye, struggling a bit to understand your own handwriting. 

“It’s early — way too early, and I’m struggling to stay awake. I wish I could go back to sleep, but then again he’s next to me and I can see him, really truly see him when nothing gets in the way of his beauty, when he’s so still I have no choice but to stare, to take him in, to let his face sink into my memory until all I can feel is love. Until his face is stripped of features, no eyes, no nose, no mouth, just love. My love. He’s the sun rising and I’m the need to stop and stare.” 

The weight of your words is overwhelming, a blush creeping up your cheeks and you can feel the way your heart feels warm. You turn a page, laughing at the universal balance of your feelings when you read,

“Jungkook grilled today and I ate three burgers. We made milkshakes for dinner when Soori was asleep because neither of us has the heart to not share with her but Jungkook’s scared of sugar rushes.”

But, oh, what a privilege it is to live an ordinary life with extraordinary people. What a feeling, to experience it all. 

“I sit by the sun, can feel the sand through the towel under me and my body’s still salty and wet from swimming. I hear the sound of the ocean and Jungkook turning the page of a book. I hear how still he is while reading my copy of The Great Gatsby. Soori naps in-between us and I can hear her soft breathing. I write this because I don’t want to forget it.” 

A wave of nostalgia takes over you, like you’re already missing it though it hasn’t fully gone away yet. Your next words ignite a different feeling in you, flushing your chest and sending that original warmth that’d settled on a steady route someplace else. 

“I feel his fingers long after they’ve been on me. My body is exhausted but my mind alert, the stars on my skin he’s left are now mine to safekeep and the way the memory lingers keeps me awake. I’ve never made love before, it feels foreign to me. Are we making love? How would I know? I can’t think of the formalities of much when he fucks me. I can’t put a name to it, only his and whatever his eyes on me makes me feel in that moment. I’m yet to decipher it, though, his eyes on me. More so, what I feel. It makes me want to live inside myself, though I don’t think that makes much sense. It makes me wish I had more control over my body, my thoughts, my feelings, so I could focus on multiple things at once and figure me out. Me when he’s on me, me when he owns me like this, and perhaps his eyes perceive this better. Perhaps I could find it in seeing what he sees when he looks down at me, like that. Like him.”

“Why aren’t you in bed, baby?”

His voice startles you, takes you a while to register it fully, your first instinct to close your journal a bit too abruptly for what it entails. You look up at him, smile when you take him in, your hands itching to touch him, to hold him. His hair’s still wet from the shower, a bit messy, and longer now than when you first met him. You like it like that, you think. In a soft white shirt and gray pants, he looks so soft as he walks inside the living room, hovering by the wall for a second before leaning into it. 

“I was writing, the rain looks nice from the tall windows.” 

He smiles. “We’ll open the blinds upstairs, come on. Wanna watch a movie?”

You nod, uncrossing your legs and holding onto your journal before making your way to him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Lord Of The Rings,” he gives you a toothy grin, pulling you to him as soon as you’re close enough to and you can’t help but bring your lips to his. 

“Never took you for a nerd. I like it.”

“To be honest, I never know what’s going on, I’m just drawn in by the landscapes.”

“Lucy and I watched it once,” you say, pinching your thumb and index finger, pretending to smoke, “under the influence.”

The picture alone makes him chuckle. “Never took you for much of a stoner.”

“Oh, God, I’m not. I ate a subway and a bag of hot cheetos and passed out fifteen minutes into the movie.”

“Damn, baby, that’s weak. Even for you.”

You gasp. “As my boss, you should be delighted by this information.”

“Mm,” he kisses you, “not your boss right now. Actually, not your boss ever. Soori’s your boss.”

“She’s so demanding.”

“I know, right? Will only eat fruit if it’s star shaped now. Wonder whose fault that is…”

“When I get my hands on her…,” you narrow your eyes, shake your head.

“Hey. Easy on my girlfriend right there.”

“That still sounds a bit surreal.”

“What? Me calling you my girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, get used to it.”

“Never. It’s funner this way.”

He doesn’t refute your point, secretly agrees with it, still a bit in awe of the word itself. The title. What it entails, what it means, what he gets in exchange of it. Not in an opportunistic way, but simply in letting himself enjoy this new role, surprised at how comfortable he feels in it, how at ease. 

The two of you make your way upstairs, checking on Soori one last time before heading to the bedroom. The bed looks inviting, fluffy duvet begging for you to be inside of it on this rainy night. Lights dim and soft linen smells, the sound of the rain hitting the window as Jungkook opens the blinds and you get in bed, making yourself comfortable and letting your body melt into the mountain of pillows he insists on keeping. He joins you soon after, sighing as he sinks into them, too, remote control in one hand as he extends his other in invitation. You fall into him, letting him wrap his arm around you as you rest your head on his chest, legs finding his under the covers until your body is laced in his. He makes quick work of finding the movie, falling deeper into the comfort of the bed and bringing you closer to him as the beginning credits roll in, landscapes following and he’s right, it’s captivating enough. 

“Wanna go there someday,” you say softly, voicing your thoughts.

“You remember the deal we closed a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“It’s basically land… vast, immense land that looks just like this. I’m building a hotel there.”

You look up at him, “really?”

“Yeah. I’m excited about it. It’s kinda different from the locations we often go for… it feels new, I think it’s gonna work, though.”

“I have no doubts whatsoever,” you tell him, face nuzzling in the soft fabric of his t-shirt before you say, “I’m proud of you.”

He rests a soft kiss on your head, hand gently running down your arm as he murmurs a quiet, “thank you,” against your hair. Soon enough you’re both completely enraptured by the movie, and to your surprise, by the plot, too. Once in a while you steal small glances of him, endeared by his big, shiny eyes in full focus, pink lips slightly agape. Your hands run lazy circles around his chest, and you do it enough so as to lose conscience of it, affection turning into reflex. 

Your touch soothes him, so much so he stops acknowledging it and it simply runs a wave of relaxation down his body, shoulders dropping a bit, body sinking further into the pillows, head falling to the side. You’re warm against his body and he likes it, he likes being able to feel every inch of you on him like this. The movie has most of his attention, but said attention begins to shift focus, unbeknownst to him, like his body has a mind of its own. He thinks it’s an innocent little pull at first, inevitable, if you will. He tries to go back to the movie, eyes fixated on the screen, his brain’s full function on the scenes, but it’s to no avail. He’s now (well too) aware of the way your fingers trace patterns on his chest, the way your leg rests on top of his. The way you smell, the way your tits press into his side as you shift a bit. You exist, next to him, and his reaction is but the collateral damage. 

He begins to shift in place, hand running through his hair as he makes more of a mental effort to quiet down his body and the effect you, very innocently, have on him. He does this for long enough so as to make you notice, frowning against his chest when he sighs. 

“Are you okay,” you ask, looking up at him, “are you uncomfortable? I can move-”

“No, no, no,” he says, voice a bit frenzied, taking you aback even more. “It’s not that, baby, come back.”

You rest against him once again. “Is something bothering you, though? You feel tense,” and when you say this, you run your hand down his arm, nails scraping a bit, and Jungkook lets out a long breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“No, none of that, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, feeling shy all of a sudden, color creeping into his cheeks, “it’s just…”

“What?”

He grows quiet for a second, hand holding onto yours before he starts to guide it down his torso, and you’re almost confused for a second until it gets lost inside the warmth of the duvet. Jungkook rests your hand on top of his cock, over his sweatpants, and you can feel how hard he is. He whimpers softly over your head when you reflexively close your hand around him, feeling the whole weight of his arousal. You look up at him, half-lidded eyes and parted lips, his head leaning back against the pillows as you bring your lips to his neck, kissing once before you whisper a little, “oh,” into his skin. 

“Couldn’t help it,” he says coyly, and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Why would you try to help it?” your lips still pepper open-mouthed kisses all over his warm flesh. 

“Dunno,” he shrugs, a whimper that ends in a moan following and he sounds so sweet. 

So sweet, you think. Something about him, about his demeanor right now, docile in your hands, soft-spoken words and little noises as your lips on his skin begin to have an effect on him. You can feel it in the palm of your hand, in the way his hips buck a little with each suckle, silently begging for more but not in any particular rush. 

“Want me to touch you?” you look up at him, at the way his eyes open, still half-lidded and hazy as he nods. Your hand squeezes his length, “here?”

“Yeah, I’d like that— please.”

That word feels like a silent agreement. A nod in the direction he knows you’re eager to take and you waste no time in rewarding him for letting you, for allowing you to take the reigns, for letting you give him pleasure as you please. 

Your hands travel under his sweatpants, lips forming a smile when you realize he’d forgone underwear, cock warm against your small hand as you wrap around it. Jungkook hisses, a whine getting caught in his throat as your thumb circles around his crown, collecting the precum and easing him into the feeling. Your pace is slow, eyes fixated on his cock — on the way his slit leaks when your finger grazes over it, the way he jumps a bit in your hand, so overstimulated already. The noises he makes, sometimes muffled as his face presses against your hair, failed attempts at keeping composure. He tries his best not to fuck his cock into your hand, you can tell by the way his tummy sinks every now and then, hands gripping at the sheets. And when he can’t take the torturous pace you set, so determined on giving the most sensitive part of his cock what begins to feel like an overwhelming amount of pleasure, his hand gently closes around yours, stalling your movements. 

“Please, __— fuck,” his words are a bit frantic, a moan getting caught between them. 

 “What’s wrong, Kook?” you feign ignorance, but he’s in no position to give you a hard time for it. 

“Stroke it, baby, please.”

He sounds so fucked out already, shaky fingers closing around your hand once again and you know he’s fighting internal battles not to guide your movements, to take you where he wants you — how he wants you. 

“It felt like you were so close, though…” 

“Not like this,” his words find him faster than you’d expect, given his state, “don’t wanna cum like this.”

You kiss his cheek, smiling when his face moves closer to yours until you’re kissing the corner of his mouth and his eyes are closing as you finally move your hand, slowly stroking his cock, touch so gentle it makes him sigh. He’s so perfect the need to tell him so becomes too painful to bear. 

“You’re doing so good, Kook. My perfect boy.”

Under any other circumstance Jungkook would pause at your words — not necessarily to second guess them, no, but to process them. To see what they do to him, to what extent they deliver pleasure, all things considered, things being the fact that, well, he’s not a sub. He’s not usually the one melting into praise and dominance so, yeah, under any other circumstance Jungkook would pause. Right now, though, all he can focus on is the way your hand feels so warm and tight around his cock, how it glides so seamlessly because he’s so turned on he’s basically lubricated himself, and how you’re enjoying his reaction to you so much you think he’s perfect. 

Perhaps under no circumstance would he need to pause to know that he enjoys it. More than he ever thought he would. 

“I feel so good right now,” he tempts, head sinking into the pillows as you up your pace a bit. 

“It feels good… to make you feel good,” your wrist twists around him, giving him all the attention he craves, from base to tip and then tighter at the upturn. “To see you be this good,” he whimpers softly at your praise, “you sound so beautiful.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens, your words resounding in places he didn’t know could echo words, sounds — the sound of your breathing, your own moans. Your pace picks up and you rejoice in the way he reacts to your touch. His brows knit together, eyelashes kissing his cheeks and all he can think of is you, almost as if he had you far away and had to rely on memory. Opening his eyes, heavy lids looking down at you as he leans his head to the side, his breathing picking up as he pants. 

Your hand leaves him for only a second but it’s enough to make him hold his breath, eyes following your every move as you bring it up to your face and lick a thick stripe down the palm of your hand. His cock throbs when it wraps around it again and he sighs, so close to the edge he can only hope you’ll play fair. 

Your free hand sneaks under him a bit awkwardly, tapping on his leg to silently let him know what you want. His hips raise as he helps you move his sweatpants down, the waistband now hugging his ass as you free him completely. His cock is red and angry, still leaking for you as your hand begins to move faster, thumb and index finger playing with his head at the end of each push and pull. 

“I’m so close, __,” words soft, a staccato whisper that’s for you only and your name on his lips sounds sugary, like it drips off his tongue. 

You think, a bit selfishly, about playing with him for just a little longer. Putty in your hands and so very yours that you almost don’t want to let him go — to let him let go, but you can’t deny him. Not when he’s been so good. Not when you have all the time in the world to explore, to play. 

“Yeah? Tell me, baby, what else do you want?”

“Play with my balls,” voice still a plead, no demand in it, a bit of a tilt at the end. 

You comply, hand traveling south before you gently roll his balls in your hand, tugging slightly and making him wince, a loud, throaty moan finding him soon after. You look into his face again, a sight to behold, so lost in his own pleasure you think he doesn’t fully hear you when you tell him to kiss you. He proves you wrong, though, lips crashing onto yours as you swallow his pleasure, tongue on his as both your breaths grow heady. 

“God— fuck.” his hand finds yours again, not hesitating before he’s wrapping it back around his cock, stroking once, twice, and setting the pace for you before his own is coming up to your face, fingers gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, Jungkook. Please.”

He nods, brows knitted in a frown as he gets so very close, eyes on yours and fighting to keep them open. You feel the way his cock kicks in your hand as you jerk him fast, bottom lip getting caught between your teeth. He grows quiet, a little tense under you and when his lips part in a silent moan, eyes shutting close, he cums, hard —  thick hot shots landing on his tummy and coating your hand as you bring him down. 

He chuckles a little, feeling a bit delirious as your fingers play with the mess you’d both left on his stomach, cock jumping at the mere sensation of your touch on his taut skin, making him hiss and look down. It turns him on a little more than his body can take right now and he opts for closing his eyes, sighing as he sinks his head back into the pillows. 

“That was so good,” he says, voice soft and full of bliss. 

“Mhm.” 

You kiss his cheek once more before your warmth is leaving him, making him frown as he’s about to ask where you’re going. He opens his eyes, sees you reaching for the night table and when you turn around you’re holding onto a handful of tissues. 

You clean him up, and he lets you, his soft gaze following your movements. It feels intimate, the way you do it in silence, your face expressionless but something in your eyes that’s easy for him to read. You tuck him back in his pants, laughing a little when the feeling of the fabric against his sensitive skin makes him gasp, muttering a little, “sorry” his way. When you kneel on the mattress to leave his side, he pulls you by the arm, whining a little. 

“I’ll just go throw these in the trash,” you say. 

“Okay. Thank you, baby.”

You take a minute — makes Jungkook a little antsy for reasons he can’t understand. He hears the faucet go off, hears you wander about the bathroom, giving him enough time to sit with his thoughts. It’s not anxiety —well, it is. It’s not bad, though. It’s more so unfamiliar, to let someone take care of him like this, so lovingly for no other reason than the desire that pulls you to want to love him. To dote on him. It makes his heart contract inside his chest, missing a couple of beats that recover a bit too quickly when he sees you make your way to him. 

He’d been lost in thought, making you smile. 

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“That we haven’t kissed in a while.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s playful and shy, one of his favorite things about you. Your knee hits the bed, crawling towards him and he smiles, growing giddy in anticipation. You find a home over him, knees straddling both sides of his body as you rest on his tummy, careful not to touch any further down as you know he’s still sensitive. 

“Wanna kiss me?”

It’s back, he thinks. That tone you held before, when you were in control of him and his pleasure. No time to pause now either. He nods. 

“Yeah, wanna kiss you so bad, baby.”

He welcomes your lips on his, slow and tender, giving him time to savor the pillowy softness of them. The way you taste, the way you sound — a little worked up, tiny whimpers leaving you — has him convincing himself that he could never get too much of this. Never get too much of you. The way your tongue moves on his has him sighing against your lips, mind elsewhere and all he can take in right now is you. You and how you kiss him. You and how much he wants you already. How much he needs you. 

He moans against your lips, hands coming up to hold onto your hips as he pushes them further away until your cunt sits perfectly on top of his dick. You both sigh.

“You’re hard,” you point out, not fully breaking the kiss. 

“Yeah. Been hard since you straddled me,” he laughs. 

“Thought you’d be spent, you came so hard just now.”

He shakes his head, looking up at you, “want you, baby.”

You grind your hips against his, moaning when the head of his cock grazes your clothed clit. “I want it like this.”

“Yeah— okay,” he gives, kissing you again as he guides your hips the way he knows feels good, aided by the noises his mouth swallows as you moan into his lips. 

You don’t stop when you come up, fully sitting on his cock and making him wish there was less layers between you two. When he looks down he sees the wet patch over the gray fabric of his sweatpants, unsure whether it’d been you or him but turned on by it none the less. He moans at the sight, at the feeling, at the way you look so pretty with your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, lips parting to moan his name. 

Your hair falls to one side, pretty neck glistening with sweat and he wants to kiss it so bad. He holds his breath as your fingers toy with the hem of the sweatshirt you’d stolen before, promptly pulling it off your body. His eyes widen, lips slightly parted before they’re forming a smirk when you reveal what’s underneath — the result of his little shopping spree a couple of days back. Tonight you’d opted for a lacy, red babydoll and matching panties. The fabric so sheer it barely covered anything, making Jungkook consider himself a very lucky man right that second. 

His hand travels up, palm cupping your breast and thumb caressing your nipple, making you whimper at the feel of his finger through the fabric, a new sensation. Your hips move quicker, hand coming to rest on top of his to encourage his touch, the added stimulation landing right on your lower tummy, making your pussy clench around nothing, clit throbbing with every push and pull of your hips. 

“I’m so close, Kook,” you pant, back arching as you find the perfect pace. 

“Use me, __. Use me to cum,” he gives, lips getting caught between his teeth so hard he’s afraid he’s gonna draw blood. “Fuck, you look so hot, baby.”

You like the two tones his voice takes at his command and praise, the way he’s still perfect in that pliant way but also gives you what your body secretly loves the most. When you cum, it almost feels painful, in that sweet way that finds you when you’re so overwhelmed by the feeling. Your hands crash on his chest, hair falling at the sides of your face before he’s gently pushing it away so he can watch you. 

The air around you shifts just as fast as the switch inside Jungkook turns. 

You’re still catching your breath, so receptive to his every touch that you moan when you feel his cock throb between your legs. He holds onto your face, making you look at him. 

“You did so good, __. Came so good and pretty for me.”

There’s a voice inside your head that tells you to take back control, to bite back and tell him that he was the one being good for you. But your body’s both too spent and too needy for your mind to get cocky right now and deprive it from what it needs the most. 

You nod your head, a little dumbly, at him. He thinks it’s cute. 

He’s pushing his sweatpants back down, legs fully pulling them off his body before his finger hooks down the side of your panties, slowly moving south until his knuckle is grazing over your clit. 

“So wet. So messy.” the pads of his index and middle finger circle your clit, making you whimper as you rock your hips and follow his movements. He pulls his touch away abruptly, pushing your panties to the side before his hand leaves you completely and comes to rest behind his head. “Ride me, __.”

You’re wet enough to brave it, coming up on shaky knees and lining yourself over him. He grabs the base with his free hand, helping you a little and releasing the moment you start sinking into him. He doesn’t miss the way you whimper, eyes closing at the feeling of him stretching you. It burns a bit but you’ve come to find pleasure in the pain, bottoming out as you both moan when he’s fully sheathed inside of you. 

“So big, Koo,” you cry out, and his heart beats particularly soft at your use of the pet name. It almost makes him lose focus, almost makes him fall back into the prior dynamic, a little too worked up from it still. He reckons it’s probably what’s powering his demeanor right now. 

“Yeah,” he sounds, and you don’t miss the way his voice takes on a cocky tilt. “Move, then. Wanna see you bounce on this big cock.”

“Yeah— okay, fuck,” because it feels so good. It feels so good as you jump on him, as he fills you up to the brim and hits your sweetest spots when you bury him all the way inside of you. It feels so good when it all gets to be too much and you have to slow down your pace, grinding against his hips, making him say your name as he hits every inch of you like this. 

You resume your pace, tits moving with each motion against his hips and he can’t take his eyes off of them – off of you. So fucking beautiful as you move over him, giving him what he wants. 

“Good fucking girl,” he praises, voice a bit rough from the way the pleasure consumes him.

“That feels so good. Wanna fuck you– wanna fuck you forever, Jungkook.”

Your words are strangled and he can see how much effort it takes to actually string them together, so very affected by him and the way it feels when he starts moving his hips against yours, fucking you back. 

“You can fuck me forever, baby.”

“Oh my God, I’m so— so close.”

The cry you let out when his hands grab at your hips, pausing your movements, surprises the both of you. You look down at him, glaring when your orgasm goes away, the pleasure taking on a painful nature as your pussy throbs around his cock. 

“Fuck. Why—”

“Want to play with you a bit more, baby. You can take it. You can be patient, can you not?” It’s in your best interest to agree so you nod, frantic eyes looking into his. “Good. Now lose the attitude. I’m gonna make you cum so good, promise, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

He holds onto your waist, manhandling you so swiftly you barely register just how he managed to get you on your back in a matter of seconds. He hovers above you, thighs between your legs as he runs a hand through his damp locks and scans his eyes over your figure. 

Jungkook can’t figure out if he wants you fully naked, looking up at him or face down, pressed against the mattress. He doesn’t know if he wants to fuck you hard or take more time with you. He doesn’t know if he wants to tease you or have you coming undone again —and if it’s the latter, does he want it on his tongue or around his cock? 

Decisions, decisions… 

He wraps a hand around his cock, sighing at the much needed attention, smiling when you raise your hips a bit involuntarily in his direction. You make his decision for him, huffing a bit when you see the way he takes one step back away from you. He takes his shirt off before running his hands down your legs, his touch soft but his eyes dark, like he’s plotting. 

“Kookie,” you say, dreamily, ulterior motives lacing your voice, “fuck me, please.”

“Not yet, wanna taste you first.”

He raises your legs, keeping them straight before him as he rolls your panties down your thighs and off your feet, throwing them to the side. You bend them once they’re off, resting them against his shoulder. 

“I’m too sensitive,” you tell him, and something in your voice tells him you’re faking it.

“That so, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“But I want you to fuck me— now.”

Jungkook holds onto your legs, one hand on each calf before he’s bringing them down, resting them against the mattress a bit abruptly and making them fall open for him. 

“Quit being a brat or I won’t fuck you at all.” 

He doesn’t let you answer — not like you’d try, you’ve got too much to lose — finding his place between your legs as he lays down on his tummy. Your pussy’s swollen and red, hole leaking for him and clenching around nothing. He coos, which you’d tease him for if the reaction wasn’t sending a jolt of pleasure down your body, something filthy about it lacing the act. 

“Love your little pussy, baby,” he observes, more to him than to you, marking emphasis in his words by running a finger from your opening all the way to your clit. 

“Please.”

And he can’t deny you. Not when your cunt looks so enticing, when you react to him and he can see it, feel it around his fingers as he pushes his middle one inside of you. You arch your back at the intrusion, a moan passing your lips when his own close around your clit, sucking hard on it in rhythmic little pulses. It doesn’t take him long enough to send you right back to where he’d taken you from just a couple of moments ago, tummy tensing at the threat of your pleasure reaching its peak. 

“I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” you warn him, so obedient it nearly makes him swoon.

He removes his mouth from you, replacing it with his thumb as it draws tight circles against your clit, a bit slower so as to save him time. 

“Yeah, baby, you can cum. What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

“Can you— please, lick my clit.”

His index and middle finger form a V, opening your folds up to him before his tongue comes out to lap at your clit — quick kitten licks that have your hands reaching down to him, fingers holding onto his hair so as to ground yourself but it’s to no avail. 

“Fuck— like that. God, I’m gonna cum.”

It’s blinding, almost. The way it feels, the way your body shakes as you come undone on his tongue. The way he sucks on your clit, prolonging your orgasm, moaning against it when you pull on his hair. The sound his mouth makes when he cleans every drop, chin glistening with your orgasm — it all adds to the sensation, effectively fucked out. 

You pull him up, with little force, until he’s falling back on top of you. You kiss him, a bit deliriously, tasting yourself on his tongue and moaning at the remnants of your high. You push your legs further apart, helping him fall into you, feet on his ass as you bring him closer to you. He sinks his cock into your pussy, moaning at how tight and warm you feel, still pulsing from your last orgasm. 

You’re both a bit more quiet this time around, throaty breaths and pants passing your lips as you find endless places to kiss. Down his neck, on your shoulder and the palm of his hand when he cups your cheek. You sigh when you finally find his lips. They only part when he throbs inside of you, pussy so sensitive you can feel just how close he is. You lose him for a second and when you open your eyes, you see his own fixated on the TV, fighting to stay open.

“In missionary so he can keep watching Lord of the Rings,” you tease.

He looks back down at you, strangling out a laugh that shortly gets caught in a little whine of pleasure. 

“Shut up,” he breathes out, kissing you once again. “Fuck— I’m so close, baby.”

“I can feel it.”

“Yeah?”

You hum, bringing his face closer to you, kissing him and egging him on with sweet, little praises. 

He stills on top of you, pink lips parting in a silent moan before he says, “I’m gonna fucking cum,” pulling out just in time to paint your lower tummy in white, cum dripping down your pussy a little too recklessly to what he’d normally agree to but fuck, he feels drunk right now and the sight is heavenly. 

You laugh. 

“Reconsidering?”

“Yeah,” he answers honestly, with half a brain for anything let alone to lie. 

“Oh, wow,” you say, “love being your girlfriend already.”

He laughs, shaking his head before he’s pressing a kiss against your lips. 

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

~

AAAAAAAAAA. sorry for teasing you guys so hard, i didn’t want to give anything away so i had to lie A LITTLE (or well, refrain from the truth lmaooo). also sorry to the team mingyus, u probably thought the thing about the smut not being about jaykay meant it was with HIM, but i just didnt wanna spoil it!!!!!! anyways. i love you. and like always, thank u for reading. it means more to me than you’ll ever know <3 

[jwanniie]

Pairings: Huh Yunjin x Ceo fem reader!

Warnings: Yunjin is a pervert, tit job, subby Yunjin, reader has kinda big boobs, body worship, not proofread, use of straps, mention of pregnancy and breeding, breeding kink, filthy smut, basically porn with plot!!!!

word count: about 1,2 k

request!

꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱꒰꒰⁐

The first time Yunjin met you was in her first ever job interview, and poor girl forgot her whole speech that she was last night trying so hard to memorize. She was a little bit early for the interview so your secretary let her sit in your office, waiting for you on the black leather chair in front of your expensive looking desk. Your name was written on a name tag on the desk.

“Y/n L/n!” Yunjin tasted the name few times, it was a unique and memorable name, not many people having it.

She took a big gulp of the fancy welcome drink, even the free welcome fucking drink was something an average employee wouldn’t afford, but here you are giving them daily for free.It seemed like money was like rice to you.

Yunjin got out of her thoughts when hearing a door getting unlocked, she saw your curves from your silhouette, you stepped in the room before locking the door behind you.

You studied Yunjins features while she just sat there mouth in an o:shape and eyes wide. Your eyes traveled to the drink that was in front of her, on the small table in front of the leather chair and it was almost empty.

“You must have liked the welcome drink!” You said, flashing a sweet sincere smile towards her way before sitting down on your chair.

Yunjin was awestruck, no, flabbergasted. In a good way of course, you were the sexiest woman she has ever saw and in the most beautiful way.

Your aura alone could make anyone fall in love, the type of femme fatale but the sweet version, expensive old money, and the little bit older type of woman.

Your tight skirt complimenting your curves and ass, the first two buttons from your blouse unbuttoned, the valley of your boobs slightly showing while your hair was down your shoulders. And the most gorgeous genuine smile on your face. She had literal heart eyes staring at you, and you noticed.

You damn well know you are good looking, in fact you, yourself think that you are gorgeous and sexy. The vibe of your confidence was being sensed and that also made you even more attractive.

You immediately noticed that Yunjin was slightly out of it, pupils blown and eyes having sparkles while only humming at your question.

“I asked you a question miss Yunjin!” You said timidly, eyes looking at her and as soon as she processed what you said she looked embarrassed.

“Excuse me?” Her voice was low and she looked at you in hopes you could repeat the question.

“I don’t really like to repeat myself miss Yunjin.” You stood from your chair walked towards where she was sitting and sat on the other leather chair that was in front of her chair.

She gulped nervously. Her eyes couldn’t help but to travel to your chest, her mouth watered at the way your elbows were pushing your plushy tits together.

The only thought in her head was to suck on those like a baby, only if she had a dick she swore she would breed you till those tits were spilling milk.

She didn’t notice how you moved towards one of your drawers and took one of your favorite pink glitter straps, and sat again in front of her the strap in your hand.

Her eyes looked at it and you swore her jaw could have went out of place. Her eyes looking at you curiously but there was a hint of excitement. That made you excited to have her bounce this gummy material.

“Come here” you demanded and in her whole life she wasn’t this fast to follow orders, she was in front of you standing looking eyes full of hope and excitement. Arousal was gushing down her panties that you almost could smell it. While she fiddled with her hands.

“Undress me.” You said giving her a smug grin. She looked slightly hesitant of what you said. Rethinking did she heard you correctly but at the end her hand found your blouse buttons.

Buttoning them so fast that she almost ripped them. Her eyes were all over your chest. From the lacy bra straps to your nipples. You wore a sexy black lace bra, just like what she could have imagined someone like you wearing, but oh this was ten times better now that she’s seeing it in real life.

Her hand squeezed your boob without even asking and you couldn’t even deny her, at the end this felt heavenly. She went towards your back and unclasped the bra. The lacy material falling to the ground. Her wet muscle licked your sensitive bud, a shiver running down your spine while she let out a loud moan of satisfaction.

Her hand traveled down to your skirt, sliding it down revealing the lacy black panties that were matching with your bra. Your own wetness slightly damping the leather chair while she was dangerously close to your core, she licked a stripe your wetness, the intoxicating taste filling her taste buds.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” She mumbled, her head falling back. You wore the strap and signaled Yunjin to come. She tossed her clothes somewhere in your office before sinking down on the glittery material.

You held her hips firmly and your touch made her melt, she was all smily and giggly, jumping up and down on the pink strap. Curses falling out of her mouth while loud whimpers found their way from her vocal cords.

It was the hottest sight indeed, she was fucking herself so desperately. She took one of your boobs before trying to make it fit in her mouth, even after knowing that no way that would fit in her mouth. She sucked so hard, that you felt your nipples being sore and your chest was full of red-ish and purple-ish marks. She continued thrusting herself down your length.

The pad of your finger went towards her clit rubbing it roughly, helping her to cum faster. High pitched moans now louder while your other hand gripped her waist to ease her down on the strap.

She felt in cloud nine, anytime soon she would be splashing her juices down your core. Her eyes rolled back deeply every time your strap reached a sensitive toe curling point. Hitting every spot perfectly.

Her hand was grasping your hair harshly, her nails sinking down your scalp.

“I-I’m..c-cumming!” She screamed out before her juices ran down her thighs and the strap, soaking your stomach.

She pounded herself on the material slowly but deeply. Riding out her orgasm.

“I should hire you, you impressed me!” You combed her hair with your free hand while her head was on the crook of your neck.

“But before that, you should show me how good you can do.” You continued and she looked at you all smily while nodding her head fast. Getting off your lap and taking off the strap from you, wearing it herself.

She definitely would be your favorite worker!

[thehandsresisthim]

“tranquility”

contains: yandere link (botw/totk) x reader, nothing too explicit, but still 18+, ise-kaid reader but it kinda just starts when you’re already in hyrule, maybe i’ll post the next ‘chapters’ the following weeks if i remember to ehem

word count: ~1400

You and him find a secluded spot in the woods to spend the night.

He thoroughly scouts out the immediate area for a moment, making sure that there are no monsters around.

It’s late into the night, almost midnight, so he hurries up preparing everything - not that there’s much to prepare. But he lights a fire, and he puts down his bedroll, and he tells you to use it. He’ll keep watch, he tells you.

“Is this really okay?” you say in a tired voice.

He nods. “I bet you’re not used to sleeping on the ground.”

“Mmh.” you would argue further, but you’re so tired that you don’t protest, just lay down. It’s not as bad as you thought. He insisted on making sure there were no rocks beneath the bedroll, not even the tiniest thing - smooth ground all the way. You pull the thin covers over you and rest your head on the pillow. You don’t close your eyes yet, however.

He looks at you and smiles. “Sleep well.”

Quickly after, you fall asleep.

⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️

It’s early morning, around four, when you wake again. He’s laying next to you, arms tightly wrapped around you, right hand placed beneath your shirt, on your back. His hand feels surprisingly soft, although some of the callousness you’d expect due to his, uh, living circumstances, is also there. He’s breathing softly, and definitely asleep. His sword and other weapons are placed right next to the bed roll.

You find yourself not knowing how to react. Although this is definitely a bit forward, he did lend you his bedroll, and has been so, so nice to you so far. If not for him… you don’t know how you would’ve gotten along in this world. Probably gobbled up by some monsters. He deserves some rest too…

A voice - his voice - snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Darling…”

You notice that he’s sleeping - breathing as softly and evenly as before, hand still located on your back. Perhaps he is dreaming about his lover? You hope that this isn’t one of those dreams. That’d be really weird. But you guess that even if that’s so - not like that’d be his fault. He can’t help what he’s dreaming about.

“‘M… never… going to let you go,” he continues.

You can’t help but smile a little. Yes, you decide, he’s definitely dreaming about a lover. You wonder if you’ll ever meet them. You fall asleep again.

⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️

It’s later in the morning when you wake up again.

You stretch and yawn. He gives you a friendly nod once he sees that you’re awake and waves at you.

“Good morning!” you say.

He smiles back at you, then turns back to the fireplace. He seems to be grilling the mushrooms he collected yesterday. You smile at the smell and get up from the bedroll.

He’s wearing his armour, and all of his weapons on him. You remember that he did wear his armour in bed with you - you felt the metal on his shoulders pressed against your chest - he must’ve put the weapons back on. It only makes sense, after all.

You can’t help but think of him sleeping next to you… he seems to be unbothered by it. Maybe it’s just a common thing among travellers? You decide to not think anything else of it.

You fold the blanket and the pillow, and roll up the bedroll. You have to bend over to pick up the bedroll, and you feel like he glances over at you for a moment as you do so…

Snap out of it! you tell yourself. He’s probably just making sure that you’re folding it up correctly. Besides, if you’re going with the dream he had earlier, he's already got someone else, so don’t get your hopes up!

You place all the parts of the makeshift bed together. He doesn’t look at you again, but rather, seems to stare at the fire and continue preparing the mushrooms.

You decide that since he’s made sure that the area is safe just last night, some mild exploring might do you some good. The noise of your steps is overshadowed by the cackling fire and muffled by the dampness of the forest floor.

⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️

After a few more minutes of roasting the mushrooms over the fire, he stretches a little and decides to sit down. As he stares into the fire, he reflects on last night. Admittedly, laying down next to you was a bit forward…

But then again. He allowed you to travel with him, although you’re slower, and he allowed you to sleep on his bedroll. And he defended you against the monsters, and he’s making you food right now. He deserves a bit of comfort, doesn’t he?

‘Hopefully, the bedroll will keep her scent for a while.’ he catches himself thinking. ‘If she’s always with me… then I’ll never have to worry about that…’ a part of his mind continues.

He catches himself staring into the flames and entertaining the thought. He imagines you living with him, in a house built by him, near a village of your choosing. He imagines you and him sleeping next to each other, perhaps even more entangled together than last night.

He could make you food. Maybe you could keep horses. He could use his strong arms and knowledge of weapons for something other than fighting. Although… if someone were to get too close to you… He’ll make sure to never forget how to properly handle people like that.

But there’s a certain tranquillity in thinking about how everyday life would be with you.

You and him could design a house together: you said you’d like to stargaze, so obviously, there’d be a large balcony.

It could connect to the bedroom; he imagines a big bed where you can sleep on the proper mattress that you deserve. Next to him, of course. He could build it himself. He knows that he’s rather strong; so, since he wants it to be a place where he can have you all to himself, he’ll need to make sure that the bed is built in a way to be able to keep up with that. And it’ll need a big canopy - a physical thing to keep out the outside world. He’ll get to keep you all to himself there.

And he’ll build you a nice big closet, so that you can keep all the luxurious clothes he’ll buy for you. He wonders what you’d like to wear… He thinks about buying you jewellery. Small amber earrings. A necklace… perhaps one of those tight ones, that would go around your neck. And he’d make sure that you have a ring on, too, just like he will. He wants you to have a closet full of pretty clothes. Maybe you’d ‘steal’ some of his too… you in his tunic… he smiles at the thought. You, in the morning, perhaps still slightly sleepy - quickly getting out of bed, searching for something to wear. Maybe you’d just quickly slip on some of his clothes. You’d sit on a nearby chair and smile at him. And there’d be a big desk for you to paint and craft and write by.

You’d also want a nice bathroom, probably. A really modern one, where you could shower… perhaps with him. And it’d need a bathtub, too!

And he’d make sure to build a strong, big staircase… it could lead right into the living room. He’d like a kitchen area that would connect to the living room… just a big open space. So that he can always watch you. You could cook together, and he’d make all your favourite meals. And he’d make sure that you’d have a big sofa, to cuddle on and hang out on and maybe indulge in other activities there too.

The windows would be big and open, to always let the sun in.

And maybe, if you’d like it, you’d keep horses. He wonders what you’d name yours. He could teach you how to ride… maybe help you catch one. Or maybe you’d only have one horse, and he’d never teach you to ride, so that you’d always have to rely on him to get around. So that he’d always be around you. And you’d sit behind him on his horse, and he’d purposely ride a little faster than you’re used to, and you’d hold onto his waist.

He finds himself smiling. The thought makes him feel warm inside, in a way that he’s not used to. He thinks that you must be feeling hungry, so he picks up one of the mushroom skewers from the fireplace. He turns around to face you. His smile falls. You’re not there.

i swear if i was isekai-d (?) to hyrule i’d be killed for blasphemy in seconds - “lmao weak ass goddess hylia needing a nine year old to fight her battles for h-“ *gets struck down by lightning*

uhhh enough babbling hope you enjoyed ❤️ comments and likes are always appreciated, same as reblogs of course!! master list is here :)

18+ short fic abt link warming your strap is here if that suits your fancy hehe

[slices-of-naranja]

Hm. Leo Valdez and Nico bonding over religious trauma.

Everyone points out that Nico would be Catholic since Italian, y’know, yeah, makes sense. But Leo Valdez is Texan, Mexican, and his Tía Rosa literally called him a demon when he came to live with her after his mother died (if I remember correctly). His first response at Camp Halfblood was to ask if God with a capital G was real. (Which, fair, a lot do that, but still).

Brother could make fire with his hands, experienced the worst tragedy of his life because of it, and just lived seven years not knowing what the fuck was up with that??? Being called a demon at eight years old, after all that he went through, by a religious Mexican lady would definitely have a lasting effect. (Speaking as a Catholic Mexican).

Like, you’re not gonna tell me that some part of him didn’t secretly believe that. That it wouldn’t keep him up at night, wondering what the fuck he was. That he didn’t look back at his fucked up childhood, at the lava and brimstone in his veins, and not think “What if she’s right? What if I’m going to hell? What if I am a monster? A demon?”

Killing is a sin. Murder is a sin. And whatever the fuck he was, whatever kind of horrid creature he is, it wasn’t getting into Heaven. Don’t tell me he wouldn’t cry at the sight of a nun. Get nervous when his fosters would take him to church. Whisper silent prayers to be fixed, to have whatever was broken inside of him, whatever he was being punished for, to stop. To maybe stop existing at all.

I’m willing to bet that when an eight year old knows for a fact he isn’t human, fire flowing through his blood, and gets called a demon because of it during the worst time in his life, when not being human caused the death of someone he loves, it might stick with him. He might believe the words thrown at him.

So, yeah, I think Nico and Leo would get along.

Also- literally not in the headspace to articulate this correctly but I hope u see my vision.

[sanzusslutt]

She Belongs To Me

Pairing: Bully!Katsuki Bakugo x Y/N

Warnings: bakugo is an ass, baks bullies y/n, blood mentioned, no smut, they hate each other, angst, sa mention but didn’t happen, prob spelling and grammar mistakes just ignore them, sorry if I missed anything..

Authors Note: It’s 3 am and I can’t sleep if I don’t get this out of my system. Now it’s yours.

Thinking about bully Katsuki who made sure to make every day of your life a miserable hell. Throwing your food on the trash can, making fun of you with his friends, pushing you aside when he is walking the aisle you were walking, ripping your notebook, blowing up your stuff, everything he could think of just to make sure you would always remember him.

Unlike Izuku, you weren’t a childhood friend of his. You never were even close to what you could call a friend. You were just someone who could tolerate everything in your path and that’s what you did. Consuming every and last attack of his. You were just another victim. You hated his guts with every cell on your body and so did he.

He wanted to punch your face every time you walked in front of him. He craved to blow your face up when you answered a question correctly. He longed for that desperate look you gave him every time he stand above you, threatening that he would make your life hell. He yearned for every last drop of tear you shed for him every time he hurt you. He lusted after that sense of control when you were standing below him, afraid just by his presence. He ached for your teary eyes, begging him not to leave another scar on your body. He hated thinking about that look all the fucking time. He despised every time he thought of you on the ground, begging him. He loathed looking at you talk to other brainless guys who only want to use you for your mesmerising body. He was repelled by the damn thought of seeing you with someone.

But here you were, in an abandoned allay, close to the school, cornered by an idiot who thought he could have you his way. The stone wall felt cold as your back touched it in hopes you could get away. Your thighs trembled, the fear only getting bigger inside your stomach. The brown haired boy stepped closer, placing his hand on the wall next to your head, excluding any possibility of escape. His other hand found place on your waist, causing a nauseous feeling in your stomach as every thought of what he could do, hit you like a train. Tears started building on your eyes as you heard a voice you could recognise for miles away since it haunted you in your worst nightmares.

“The fuck are you doing, bastard?” Katsuki’s quiet voice hold a threatening tone but this time it wasn’t directed to you. The brown haired idiot’s head immediately flew to the side at the question but the only thing that fell from his lips when he saw Katsuki was just a huff.

“You thought you could have her only for yourself?” The idiot asked. The threatening look the blond boy gave to that dunce was clearer than the fucking sky. Your handsome blond bully walked slowly towards you two but his now, dark eyes were locked to the boy above you. His stroll seemed ignorant but his deadly eyes told a different story.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Huh?” Katsuki questioned. His tone now even more intimidating. His hand flew off his pocket, tiny explosions start to form as he stretched his fingers. The darkening in his red eyes grew and by the time he stood right before the brown haired fool, they became darker than his own heart.

“Ya think you can just do whatever the fuck you want with someone who belongs to me?” Bakugo laughed. Your heart skipped a beat hearing those words. Not from love or excitement but from pure shock.

“Belongs to you? I don’t think she likes you more than m-“ The idiot didn’t have the time to finish his sentence as a loud explosion from Katsuki landed right on his moron face, landing him on the hard ground and scaring you the fuck out.

The brown haired fool laid on the ground as those red eyes finally looked your way. They softened as they fell on your gaze and his body lost the stiffness it previously had. He looked up and down your figure and then turned his eyes to the end of the allay. His body soon followed as he made his way out of the deadlock.

“Thank.. you..” those were some words you never thought you would say to someone who hurt you. Especially Katsuki.

“Don’t expect me to run every time you’re in trouble.” His tone was familiarly harsh. Just when you had a feeling of hope that something in him would change, it vanished as fast as it came.

Those red eyes looked at you one last time before he made the turn that exited the unpopular allay. You were now alone, kneeling against the cold wall, with a semi-conscious body and your own stupid thoughts. Thoughts that always had that spark of hope for Katsuki..

Want me to make more bully Baku? I really like the idea to be honest..

[seikkoi]

ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ | t. stark & s. strange x f!reader

Step one: Work at one of the most successful research laboratories in the country. Step two: Don't fuck it up. Step two and a half: Do not fuck it up.

content/warnings: mildly dubious consent (sooo uncharacteristic of me), degradation, power dynamics, voyeurism, shy reader, org*sm denial, v*ginal fingering word count: 2.6k a/n: im having a small fixation on our favorite witchy doctor dont worry abt it

Shitshitshit!

You chastised yourself mentally over and over again, watching the bright blue numbers tick downwards. It might make sense to get up, scramble across the lab, fling your hand around the incubator and pull the plug. That’s what an amateur would do, but you’re an expert and know that will do fuck all for you now. Then again, an expert would have set the goddamned temperature correctly. 

You’d fallen asleep at your desk–a natural consequence of several late nights collecting data (or drowning in term papers and reports). In your half-awake state, right before your head hits the table, you set the temperature twenty degrees lower than it should be. Dreamland gave no clues to the impending doom awaiting you. Instead, you dreamt of a tropical paradise. Your sunny fantasia was inevitably interrupted by the persistent beep that echoed the labs walls.

The digits keep trickling down, and you rest your head in your heads. All you can do is wait for it to hit zero. Thousands of synthetic cultures–gone. That was two months of work down the drain, and your bosses expected a very long report, printed and neatly stapled by the end of this week. 

You were so fucking fired.

The numbers finally stop, the computer beeping tauntingly as if you needed verbal confirmation on how screwed you were. You could not even begin to imagine how you would explain this. You worked at one of the best laboratories in the world, there wasn’t room for rookies errors here. Especially not when they come from supposed wannabe professionals like you (and cost millions of dollars). Your first week some larger-than-life MIT grad used the wrong inventory system and was gone by noon. You weren’t any better, just some Ph.D candidate trying to boost her resume. 

The computer stops, and in its absence you pick up on the slight tick of the clock on the desk. The red analog reads 9:57 PM. Late, but not too late for your bosses to still be around. You’re nauseous with guilt, but you can’t imagine carrying it through the night, working with nothing through the rest of week just to get canned on Friday.

No, you’d accept your fate now.

If you were lucky, you’d only have to talk to one of them. 

You don’t have a preference for either. Stark had no issue showing dissatisfaction through his words, often sternly and without grace. The good part was that he was the same way with praise, although you rarely managed to earn that. Strange on the other hand was, well, strange. You barely interacted with him, but when you did you always left the conversation not sure if he despised you or merely tolerated your presence. It changed your working attitude from focusing on the science to scrambling for perfection to gain even the faintest ounce of approval. 

Obviously, not well enough if you were making Alaska-sized mistakes like this. Both were equally arrogant (unfortunately, well deserved) and you knew neither of them well enough to plead for your job. 

You make your way down the dim hallway, passing the empty offices and labs. More than one mental pep talk passes through your mind. The end of the hallway held your demise, a cracked open door holding an illuminating light and a pair of voices. 

All you could do was hope they weren’t too harsh.

Beyond the wooden door, you listen to two voices argue indiscriminately. 

“I suppose you think we should just give it away.” one says exasperatedly, and you figure this is Stark by the sarcasm laced in each syllable.

“No,” the other sighs, “but our shareholders will never agree to this price point.”

“The shareholders will agree to whatever we tell them to.”

“You’re right, to a point. Still, we need to be realistic in our expectation of returns.”

“We haven’t done all this work for realism. We did it for profit and you want to sell our hard work to the lowest bidder.”

You tapped your knuckles against the oak door, heart beating in your chest. You went through a couple of opening lines–promises about how this would never happen again and pleas for understanding. Logically, you knew neither were likely to be granted. The voices on the other side grant you entrance that you take nervously. Inside, Stark sits at the large desk in the middle of the room. Strange stands beside him, peering over papers that you presume sparked their conversation. 

At the sight of you, both men seem to soften their hardened expressions. Whatever nonsense flared their words a moment ago is gone, replaced by confusion by their junior researcher at their door this late. Strange glances at the timepiece on his wrist before you can say anything, scoffing and shaking his head. 

“Yes, [y/n]?”

The annoyance drips, clearly not amused by your poorly timed visit. You wring your fingers in front of your body. 

“Firstly, sirs, I want to apologize, there was a mistake with the incubator, and the cultures were destroyed.” 

You wish you sounded more confident, but instead your eyes dart between the men and the floor. Your omission tumbles out in a whiny tone, waiting on every syllable for their faces to turn and tell you how stupid you were and how much you cost them in time and resources. That’s not how it goes, however. 

Stark leans back in the leather desk chair, metal creaking as his arms are crossed in front of his body. He makes an annoyed face, sure, but not the angry scowl you were dreading. 

Strange’s reaction is even more peculiar, chuckling slightly and glancing back at Tony.

“Did the incubator make a mistake, or did you?” he says lightheartedly, a grin stretching on his face, yet the words create a swell in your throat. 

Tony seems to find it amusing as well, watching Strange stalk towards you. He stops in the middle of the office. You’re less than two yards away, trying not to tremble under his gaze. 

“I did, sir, I’m sorry. I’ll gather my things and leave.” you whispered, hanging your head in shame. 

Your feet are on autopilot, turning for the door until Strange speaks again.

“Oh, there’s no need for that.” he chuckles. “Right, Tony?”

You turn back to see him looking towards Stark, who hums in approval. Even more confused, you watch as Strange beckons you closer, and you obey on instinct. 

“I don’t think it’s a good look for a Ph.d candidate to have a termination from such a large company on her record.” Tony coos from his chair.

“No, not at all. That might just tarnish her future.” Strange adds.

Their eyes rake over you. Stephen beckons you forward again, and you comply once more. Clearly, they were mocking you before giving you the boot. The condescending drip in their voices leaves your skin hot with embarrassment.

“We wouldn’t want that for you, sweetheart.” Tony sits up as Strange guides you towards the desk, a large hand resting on your back. 

“I-I don’t understand.” you stammer. 

They both share another laugh at your confusion. Stephen stands behind you once you reach the desk. He nudges you forward until your hips are flush against the edge. There’s still separation, but not enough that you can’t sense his body right behind yours.

“I’m sure a smart girl like you knows how valuable you are to us,” Tony locks eyes with you as Strange twirls your hair in his fingers. The touch shocks you to turn back to him, only for Strange to push you back to face Tony. 

“Everyone makes mistakes, after all.”

Your eyes widen when Stephen presses his body into yours, easily towering over you. Heavy hands trail down your jean-covered hips, hot enough to burn your skin through the denim.

“We’re very understanding, I’m sure we can work something out.” Stephen’s voice purrs in your ear, warm breath tickling your throat.

The glittering look in Stark’s eye is all too familiar, watching Stephen’s hands get acquainted with every inch of your form. You shudder under his touch. The blood in your veins runs cold as you catch a wink between the two men–and suddenly, you understand.

“Wouldn’t want your career to end before it even starts now would we?” Tony taunts. 

Fingers tease along your side. Soon, they work their way under your shirt, grazing the skin of your midriff. 

Any lingering uncertainty is snuffed when Stephen presses further into you. The desk digs into your hips, trapping you between it and the tall doctor. 

“I can’t–we can’t–this isn’t–”

Each attempt at a full sentence fails under Tony's lustful gaze. It’s quite enjoyable watching you fail against Stephen. Recruitment always seemed to be just the prettiest research assistants. Who could blame them for finally getting an opportunity for a taste? 

Not to mention you did just cost them a small fortune with your little mistake. Contrary to your beliefs, though, they liked your work ethic (and you, for that matter). Letting go of such a helpful piece of eye candy simply wouldn’t do. That doesn’t mean that kindness is a guarantee. 

“No?” Tony hums. “Well, we could always let you go. We can give a shining recommendation, of course having to mention your little incompetencies.” 

Being blacklisted would kill you. All you wanted was to work in this field. Years of late nights and term papers down the drain was a far greater loss than a few synthetic cultures. 

“Please, you don’t have to do that.” you plead. Behind you, Strange’s beard scratches your throat. His hands travel further north, dancing on the hem of your bra. Goosebumps spread across your skin.

“Like I said, I’m sure we can all come to some sort of compromise.” Stephen’s voice drops low and heavy, enveloping on your covered breasts in his right hand. He squeezes gently, tweaking your nipple through the padded fabric.

“W-what if someone finds out–please, just–”

“Oh, don’t you worry, honey. We know how to be discreet.” Tony smirks.

Your eyes can never seem to leave Tony’s, watching his smile grow as your arousal does. It’s against your doing. Stephen completely surrounds you, touching any part of you he could reach. You gasp when the doctor’s idle hand finds your other nipple, rocking himself into you as you squirm. 

“I think she wants to keep her job, don’t you, honey?” Stephen chimes in.

You nod nervously. If this would save your career, so be it. People have slept with their bosses for less, right? And you certainly weren’t blind, both men were attractive in their own rights, able to pander through a catalog of women much smarter and much more their style. It begs the question why they were doing this all–crossing such a boundary with a goddamned graduate student. 

“Oh no, honey, we’ll need to hear you say it.” 

You barely blink, nor breath, all brain power zeroing in on Strange’s heat pressed into you. Tony raises an impatient eyebrow and you manage to answer out of the need to appease him and keep your job. 

“Yes, I’ll do whatever you want.”

The second the words leave you, Stephen’s hand disappears from your shirt to push you over the desk. You would’ve face planted straight into it had his palms not wrapped tightly around each of your wrists, yanking your arms. You try to sit up, uncomfortably pressed between Stephen Itchy wool suit pants and the wooden desk. Tony gleams down at you as the doctor keeps a firm hand splayed across your back, his right hand reaching around for the zipper of your jeans. 

In the next moment, you feel cool air bend around your bare legs. Before you can have anything even remotely resembling second thoughts, your lace panties are quickly pulled to your ankles as well. Warmth flushes across your cheeks, feeling Stephen’s hungry eyes and fingers on your exposed cunt–all while Tony’s eyes stay locked onto you, smile growing wider as your shame does. 

That became harder the second rough hands grab the supple flesh of your ass before a teasing finger slid across wet folds. You squirmed against Stephen’s hold on your wrists, trying desperately to look anywhere but at your boss as you bit back a soft gasp.

“I think our pretty little assistant is feeling a bit shy, Stephen.” Tony declares, reaching out to caress the side of your face not pressed into the surface. It sends butterflies up your spine at how gently he draws tight circles on the skin of your cheek, humming in satisfaction from how roughly Stephen roams over your body.

“Tsk, I hardly believe that, as wet as she is right now.” he murmurs, distracted by the mess you wish you weren’t making. 

You kept your lips pierced tightly between your teeth, lids squeezing shut when a long digit pushes into your aching walls. A deep groan from Strange echoes behind you. You hardly had time to eat, let alone maintain a social life. This meant it had been almost months since you’d slept with anyone–leaving needy and aching from the simplest touch. Even if it was your boss. 

You instinctively try to pull forward when a second finger is roughly added, and this time you can’t stop the whimper as you stretch around him.

“There it is–feels good doesn’t it? Don’t be shy, honey.” Tony’s voice sounds like smolding ice, freezing your nerves and setting your skin on fire. 

You almost hate yourself for how good this feels, Stephen pistoning in and out of your cunt until the sounds of your arousal against his fingers flood the office walls. All while Tony strokes your face like you're made of fine china. It’s far more than your body can handle, stomach already tightening with each pulse of the doctor’s fingers. 

“Go ahead, hon’, tell us how much you like it.”

Your face warms. From his touch or embarrassment, you’re not sure. You stammer under the heat, trying to look anywhere but Tony’s piercing eyes. 

Stephen’s hand comes down strong on your exposed ass, earning a loud cry from you as you strain against his hold. It shouldn’t make your head spin as much as it does.

“That wasn’t a request, answer him.” the doctor commands, gripping your wrists even tighter. When you take a second too long to muster a response, another strike falls on your opposite cheek. Your nerves are nearly disintegrated, still relishing good his finger feel stretching your cunt.

“It–it’s good, it feels–” you cry out once more when he spanks you again, taunting you for being too quiet. 

“It feels really good, sir.” you say louder, nearly shouting into the wood as your legs shake. 

Tony laughs above you, only worsening your shame. It’s an easily forgotten feeling–Stephen’s fingers curl inside you, testing each angle until he finds the one that makes you squirm. Soon enough, you forget where you are entirely, barely able to tell where your skin and theirs begin. Your high is far too close to care about the way Tony watches you, or how bruised your wrists will be after Stephen’s done with you. 

Just as your mind starts to split into two, it’s quickly interrupted. Stephen withdraws from your soaking cunt, leaning over you to press you impossibly further into the desk, unbuckling the leather belt at his waist. You jerk your head up at the ache between your legs, meeting Tony’s devilish smirk. Warm lips grace your ear, chuckling at your needy panting. 

“Aw, poor thing. Don’t think we’d let you off that easy–you’ll need to earn it.” Stephen whispers.  

As he sinks into you, you get the feeling this mistake will take quite some time to pay back. 

[weneepie]

missing hours w/ wolverine rules | m.list

note. hiii it's my first time posting in here so please be nice with me :( I had this idea with logan for a while so, I hope you'll enjoy it!! please feel free to request <3

The Wolverine. He was a legend, one of the XMen ; actually, he was the XMen. A rude man who lived thousands of years and who seemed to not care about anyone or anything. And there he was, completely pathetic at this bar. Sitting at the counter, he was drinking and making himself miserable. The reason was simple : you weren’t here anymore. It was more than enough to drink until he couldn’t think straight anymore. 

Logan never thought he would care enough about someone to go this far, but apparently he was wrong. God knows how many times he laughed at Scott’s face because of his relationship with Jean ; and yet he was no better himself. A long sigh left his lips as he closed his eyes, your face almost immediately coming back to his mind. You were like a virus invading his brain. 

You were sleeping when you heard your phone ringing. You cursed silently at your own stupidity for not turning it off, grabbing the device to answer the call without even looking at who was calling. “What is it?” You asked, voice half asleep, slowly rubbing your eyes to try to emerge a little. 

When he heard your voice from the other side of the phone, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. He almost forgot how soft you sounded when you were waking up. He stayed silent for a while, maybe a bit too long because you started to talk again, waiting for an answer. 

“It’s Logan,” he said, and it made you stop in a second. A sigh left his lips before he kept on explaining himself. “I don’t have a reason… Guess I needed to hear your voice, bub.” The silence after his words made him feel a hint of embarrassment. He felt a bit stupid right now ; maybe calling you wasn’t a good idea. Well, of course it wasn’t but… 

“You shouldn’t be calling me,” you started, and it broke his heart. He knew you were right. It was more than obvious that he should not have called. Not tonight, and not ever. Yet, he wasn’t able to forget you. You were occupying his mind all the freaking time and it was driving him crazy. He cleared his throat, to make clear that he was still on the other side of the phone. 

“You’re drunk, Logan,” you said, way too softly for him to handle it correctly. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.” This time, your words hit him like a truck. Regret? No, it was impossible. It was the last thing he could ever think about it towards you. “Never. There’s no way I’d ever regret talking to you.” 

It had no sense, all of this. This situation was far from making any sense. How did you end up with your ex boyfriend sitting on your couch, drunk enough to do any stupid decision passing through his mind. You were sitting next to him, the air thick and the tension more than present between the two of you. You didn’t even know what you offered him to come so late. 

Logan cleared his throat before his eyes met your profile, taking a look at you. It’s been so long since he saw you from this close, it was almost like a fever dream for him. “Listen, I…” He started but, when your eyes met his gaze, the words got caught in his throat. 

“I miss you. Every single day, and every single night. No matter what I’m doing, I just miss you all the time.” You started to say, and he felt a hint of hope inside of his chest. So he wasn’t the only one with those feelings? You were living it just like he was himself? So why does something felt so off? He couldn’t understand it. 

“But we can’t do this anymore. We’re hurting each other Logan, and you know it,” you slowly grabbed his calloused hand between your two delicate ones. He could tell how you felt just by looking into your eyes ; he was reading you like you were an open book. It was way too obvious for him, so hearing those words coming out of your mouth was a pure torture. 

Logan seemed to be searching for his words. The so confident Wolverine was a mess when he was trying to make up things with you. “We were too young, and…” You didn’t give him the opportunity to finish his sentence, a slight chuckle leaving your lips. “Young? You know damn well that the problem isn’t here.” Oh yes, he knew itt. You yelled at him more than enough to understand where it was ; but he wasn’t able to do anything about it. 

“Nothing makes sense if you’re not here. Come on bub, don’t tell me I’m wrong.” Of course he wasn’t wrong. In fact, he had never been more right in his entire life. You came a little bit closer, not thinking too much as you left a kiss against his cheek. The moment after, you were standing up from the couch. You looked at him, and the soft smile on your lips destroyed everything in his chest.

“You can sleep here tonight,” you told him, and Logan understood that the conversation was done for the night. He took a sip of water from his glass before looking back at you for a moment, the corners of his lips slightly rising in a discrete smile.  

“Good night bub,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Good night Logan”, and at those words, you disappeared from his vision in a second. It was easier that way. He was way too drunk to have any serious conversation anyway. So you left him on the couch without saying anything more. 

He thought about it, about you until he fell asleep. He didn't know where it would be going, but he had this hint of hope in the heart. Who knows, maybe tomorrow was another day.

thank you for reading!

[dreamwritersworld]

Disconnected… (sully family x reader)

this was inspired by 2 requests sent in so please enjoy! I didn’t link the two requests just cause I didn’t want to spoil it before you read so thank you! 💞

Y/n Sully. I was a happier child…until that light was pulled away and burnt out.

*five year old Y/n*

There was one too many moment where Jake had compared her to her older siblings…

Jake had pulled Y/n by her ear to listen to his words clearly about how she had to heal and be as good as Kiri..

Y/n walked into a separate room clearly in distress while Kiri was calmly sitting down beading a bracelet but she could sense something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“…father keeps saying that I have to be like you but I’m not you.”

Y/n didn’t even give Kiri a chance to talk she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t make her feel better…not even a few moments after both sisters heard their mother talking to another Navi and that just made Y/n more upset.

“Kiri is the most beautiful child ever! We were given her so sudden and I always say to her, Eywa gave me you.”

Whats the softest way to say…you took away my passion…my happiness…what’s the kindest way to say?..you took away my spark.

-*

I had so much potential, had I just been brought up differently given the correct corrections and encouragement I would’ve been something…something meaningful.

*6 year old Y/n*

“Y/n! Hold the knife correctly! Look at the way your brother is holding it! Why can’t you just be smart? Think!”

Y/n was too young to even start early training but…he made her anyways, said “with her like that, she needs at least two years of early training! She needs to think smarter.”

The little girl was buried deep into training when all she wanted to do was continue making friendship bracelets for people…she was such a sweet little girl.

Every time Jake yelled, stood by, or ever so slightly glanced at her she felt slightly scared…it always felt like he didn’t care. Truth was Jake was reckless with her feelings..he didn’t care about how the outcome of his actions would reflect on the young child.

-*

Now I just sit in the comforting silence of the forest.

*8 year old Y/n*

There was one day when I was genuinely scared…terrified of the man yelling in my face..grabbing me, all because I failed at aiming correctly that day..but it was only because he made me stay up the entire night before practicing.

“Why can’t you just think kid?!”

He was pushing for words to come out as tears build up in my eyes.

“You were awful today!”

My own father could sleep peacefully in the fact that he was destroying me. It made him mad, my silence spoke louder than words..anger he wanted to come out of me. All of the sudden a full hand slapped my cheek.

My heart missed multiple beats when I realized what had just happened. That’s the moment I went numb to his actions, I quickly got up..wiped away my tears and went off to train without him. If someone were to ever hit me the way he did that day, I wanted to be ready.

-*

I was dragged through the mud, what’s more to be scared of..? I don’t need them or anyone.

I don’t speak much to anyone…they don’t try speaking to me either so I guess in a way I settled.

*9 year old Y/n*

Jake’s treatment towards Y/n was like whiplash. One second he’d give her slight hope it was ok and then the next second he’d crumble her to pieces.

He put Kiri and Y/n to healing and she was doing really well, until a hard week hit her.

“Y/n. You went from first…to worst in one whole practice! You need to do better, when will you get it?”

All siblings watched as Y/n curled herself in, hiding her head once he left.

They were sad to say they noticed how as the years went by Y/n no longer talked to them…to anyone. Yet all siblings turned a blind eye..maybe it was temporary?

-*

It doesn’t mean that i stay by myself all alone and do nothing, no absolutely not I enjoy adventure, hanging onto life by a thread…

*10 year old Y/n*

I actually used to have a good friend I knew for a short amount of time but sadly…she died. She didn’t know a thing about survival but it was because her father refused to teach her. So I taught her, but i wish I did it sooner, maybe if I did she would’ve lived…

It happened just moments after I taught her how to shoot a gun, she found hidden away.

“You want to see what i found?…will you show me how to use it?”

I was conflicted and confused because i had only learned briefly just once

“Ok…but it is not a toy.”

“I know!”

She pointed the gun up to a random tree turning to me asking what she would do.

“The most important thing is when you go to shoot, take a breathe before you hit the trigger.”

Tílí took this hilarious big breathe, exaggerating it.

“What should I shoot?”

Tílí was so…inexperienced, so much that That she didn’t even know you couldn’t wave around the gun. So I crouched and panicked the moment she aimed it at me unknowingly.

“Don’t do that!”

“I-I’m so sorry i- im sorry!”

Tílí immediately put the gun away but i didn’t even look…i looked at the forest searching for where the walking sounds came from.

“…Tílí..let’s go now.”

I yanked onto her hand and ran, hiding in an old lab, as we ran i could hear the man’s voice,

“Come out! Where ever you are!”

..we weren’t allowed to be in that part of the forest but I followed because she said she wanted to show me the gun.

We both sat down listening to the man whistling…this outsider must’ve been left behind when they were supposed to leave pandora, or perhaps this was the start of them coming back. Adrenaline raced through me that day…I was just a kid.

“I need you to listen to me. we have to go now…are you listening?”

Tílí just sat there, staring at the floor, and scared to move. When I reached out for her again she started talking louder.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Daddy, I’m scared!”

It seemed as though she was stuck in time…like she believed her father would come right that moment, he made her so dependent..so scared.

“Snap out of it, Tílí!..please!”

My brain fogged up believing I wouldn’t be able to save her, I began to get scared. My head turned to the whistling getting closer and then i did what I believed was best..

“Move!”

Tílí felt my hand slap her across the face..and then she rushed up, I got her out first by holding her up to reach the skylight on the roof and then pulled myself up..as soon as we jumped off we ran but the man didn’t fail to notice us.

I ran with her but when we passed she had fallen and so did the gun but…the man shot her in the arm

“Get up Tílí! You have to trust me, I got you!”

Tílí screamed in pain as I yanked her up, catching the gun, and ran. The man was taking his time in catching us..he knew I wouldn’t want leave her…

She had no chance though, her speed was slower but I had to drag her, it left me no time to make turns so the man wouldn’t have a direct area to shoot. I didn’t even have time to hide us so I could kill him then..He had shot her in the chest.

“No don’t- Y/n! Daddy!!”

“No! Tílí!”

I instantly turned back and hid shooting the man from getting closer…my body went tense as I walked closer to Tíli, her body was shaking and hyperventilating.

“No, please Tílí! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! Your my best friend…I’m sorry.”

I stayed in the forest crying, left with her body.

-*

That trauma didn’t go unnoticed. Mo’at could see that something was wrong with Y/n. It terrified her to see her grandchild’s downfall, she knew that Y/n would one day turn her back on her father for training and giving her pain so many years. Y/n wouldn’t let anyone even touch or stand by her…Mo’at wasn’t even an exception, no matter how much she wanted to heal those little wounds on her grandchild’s rough fingers and knees from training. She could see the pain Y/n was working through, the back pain from constantly doing tricks in training…suppose it was the reason Y/n was the best but it doesn’t mean it’s ok.

Y/n had been sitting on the floor, making medicine while Mo’at observed her…Neytiri walked in the room with medicine Kiri made from home.

“Kiri made some medicine for healing, mother.”

Mo’at hushed Neytiri and pulled her to the side, still keeping an eye on Y/n.

“We must talk..”

“About?”

“Y/n-“

“Oh mother please, no need to worry about that child she-she’s fine. She remains happy at home as well.”

“Really? If that were true, that child would feel safe enough to make medicine from home.”

“Mother. You cannot possibly be insinuating that-“

“Shh. It’s just Y/n, there’s something cold behind her eyes…”

Mo’at walked away leaving Neytiri wondering…she too watched Y/n while she unpacked the medicine Kiri was making from home…

After helping grandmother I had stayed out a little but I only came back late five minutes after eclipse and brought back food that I hunted for. I could feel him and his stares..how he was so fixated on me and what i was doing now that he wasn’t playing ‘olo’ekytan’.

“You staying out late again?! I already told you, your forbidden from staying out! You think bringing food back home will make it better?!”

I couldn’t listen. My hand automatically dropped the food off by my mother and I immediately walked back out the home entering the forest, too annoyed to deal with him…he didn’t stop though.

My feet walked faster, heart began beating louder and my eyes just kept looking forward, not turning back.

“You come back here right now. I mean it Y/n stop!”

I couldn’t..for the first time in a long time..i just wanted to stop, to look him in the eye.

“I’m gonna tell you right now, You’re-“

Sometimes my mind just fogs up and forgets my morals…just like him. I turned right around, banging my hand into a tree just to push him to listen.

“Stop! I’ll walk home sir just- stop.”

He continued mumbling words, yanking me by the ear, i allowed it…im not at my break point just yet. As we entered the home he threw me onto my hammock and i just accepted it, staring at the sky…the other thing about numbness is that it kinda collapses time…suddenly i find my whole days blending together creating this endless and suffocating loop, training is all I do…

“Dinners ready!”

My transit stopped and i got up slowly, sitting in my little corner. There was never space at our dinner area for me..so I just ate alone. Then i did my chores as normal, slowly walked up to my bed sighing at the fact that i didn’t have the warmth everyone else did. Mother seemingly forgot to request a new blanket for me and I didn’t make enough time to craft items to trade something in for it..so I’ll settle on the rough blanket with seeking holes.

The next day I was told to do hunting with Neteyam in the forest…we didn’t talk much, which made it easier for us to hear outside noises..Then a man came but wasn't normal navi, he was an avatar and he held a gun, seemingly scare almost like he got lost.

"Shoot 'em"

Neteyam couldn't pull the trigger, but I didn't have the patience and i shot the man in the leg...then the hip.

I walked slowly to him.

Neteyam slightly tugged on me to just walk away and not interfere...but i just couldn't…something was wrong.

"Cmon let's go."

“Shut up Neteyam.”

He was annoyed but he just didn’t understand what the situation was so I kicked the man repeatedly until he was begging me..and when he did I asked some questions.

“Who are you with? You are not normal Navi.”

Then he spitted in my face mumbling about him swearing and being loyal, I shot him in the head with my arrow.

“Idiot.”

We walked away in silence but i can tell In his face what i had just done bothered him..he’ll get over it though right? He’s supposed to be the strongest warrior. The noises weren’t done..we could hear our siblings voices as we walked away. Neteyam called for our parents but i couldn’t stay put like he did.

Neteyam was behind a tree ready to shoot an arrow but he hadn’t realized a soldier approaching so I jumped down from the branch stabbing repeatedly into the man’s neck quick to make it silent..i hid once again when I saw a soldier head our way..he hadn’t noticed the body, just grabbed Neteyam, snapping his bow into half.

I began killing all 3 soldiers around hidden in the trees pointing guns at my siblings who were on their knees.

My eyes landed on the two fallen guns and i shot 6 while they blindly shot in a panic…i didn’t see anyone else, my siblings had ran into my parents arms. I was covered in blood..fixated on two missing soldiers…

Quaritch watched from a far, he could see Y/n held zero mercy…she was the one who shot their soldier who got lost in the forest. If she was so cold…he’d be able to get to her, get through her head.

He made sure the soldier beside him stood up first, aiming a gun at Y/n and then he shot him…setting up a scene of him “protecting her”.

Y/n held her gun to him…but for a minute she seemed in awe, she was stuck in time..she felt like she knew who this man was, somehow and in some way she heard stories about him when she was listening to her parents conversations…as did he. The reason he knew about Y/n was because before they were sent back to the forest, they discussed the little information they knew about the sully family, Y/n sully being one of them. In all honesty he hoped he’d walk into her, she was a kid who he believed could easily be ended or manipulated, because Jake never loved her, no one did. Hints why back at the fort they referred to her as the ‘the child with no love’.

If he got her on his side, he’d be unstoppable and be able to kill her father with zero hesitation. He knew he needed her trust first so he dropped his gun, left himself defenseless.

“I won’t kill you kid. Those soldiers that you just killed, well I wish it was different I do but they were weak of will and character.”

Y/n was patient this time…this man wanted to actually listen and talk to her but then again she didn’t care, he held let them hold a gun to innocent peoples heads.

“You know what I wish? I wish I had killed you too. I still can.”

“Yet you haven’t, you think any of those soldiers would have the balls to say something like that. There’s no way you could’ve lasted this long by yourself, otherwise.”

He was wrong because Y/n was brutal when she had to be. But Quaritich seems to take the brutal mindset Y/n had to the furthest extreme. However what Quaritch does goes far beyond being brutal he was just ruthless ..And no one who is ruthless deserves to live. Y/n still let the man go on..trying to pick her poison.

“We’re more alike than you think. In fact I think you realize it…but you’re not comfortable with it yet.”

That’s where Y/n ended it she shot him in the leg, aimed right by his lungs…and then her bullets ran out. Jake was watching from afar…he saw the entire conversation…on his way back he saw the bodies on the floor with multiple stab wounds, and he watched how she walked up to him with a knife. Then..he was spotted by Quaritch.

“Jake-“

“Y/n! I’ll handle him. You don’t need to do that.”

Quaritch chucked at the oblivious father.

“That girl’s already seen more than you can imagine.”

Y/n turned to her father, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. That’s not your decision.”

“Atta girl, she ain’t afraid to look me in the eye like you Jake. You know that feeling you got right now? That's what makes you stronger than the rest of them kid….”

Y/n knew his words were true..but she was getting annoyed at the man who was repeatedly talking..letting all her thoughts out to her father..so she stabbed him in the neck, Repeatedly. Jake watched in horror, it was then that he realized he stabbed her in the back repeatedly as well…he made her a killing machine. She disconnected with the world more than usual and she didn’t even feel affected by it.

Everything felt slow..metal from the knife clinging with the soiled floor..blood covering her body. Y/n looked at her father, she wanted him to see her and the gore she created.

“this is what you’ve made me become.”

!💓!

Fun facts!

Kiri was making friendship bracelets at the age Y/n wasn’t allowed to!

Tílí was a reflection of what Y/n would’ve been if she hadn’t grown up quicker.

I didn’t show much of happier Y/n because her memories would be very faded from that time..she started to grow faster at age 5.

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir r @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul l @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @mxn14 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @onetwo123three @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @eskamybeloved @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays @papichulo120627 @tsamiaxo @wwwellacom @dotheyevenknowmars @midgetpottermills @he110hon @kodzukenwhore @minkyungseokie

[sunfloweraro]

LUtober day 18: Potions

Wild mistakenly gives Time and Sky the wrong potion. Twilight and Warriors wake up and have to deal with the consequences.

Or, Time and Sky drink a de-aging potion. Chaos ensues.

Follow-up.

Part 3

Final

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

“Here,” Wild said, digging through their bag, hauling out the first potion their hands met. “This’ll fix you right up, Old Man.”

Rolling his eyes at the nickname, Time took the proffered glass bottle, unable to make out its swirling contents in the dim lighting of the dungeon. With the nasty gash up his arm burning something fierce, he didn’t care to look closer, trusted Wild wouldn’t lead him astray; he uncorked the bottle and took a deep swig, sighing in relief as the pain ebbed, his wound sealing up swiftly.

With half the potion left over, Time wordlessly passed it down the line, along to Sky, who sat with his leg stretched out, ankle swollen to thrice its normal size. Sky murmured his thanks, and it wasn’t long before his ankle was back to normal, bar a ring of purple bruising. Not perfect, but better.

Warriors handed out potions to the others from his own supply, and it wasn’t long before the group settled down and made up camp. Soon after, Time’s stomach began to twist, nausea curdling his insides. Sky took on a pale sheen too, and they shared a look. Just what did Wild’s healing potion contain?

“Are you guys okay?” Wild asked. “You both look queasy.”

“I don’t think your potion agreed with us,” Time admitted, swallowing back the bile threatening to rise up his throat. “I think I need to lie down.” And his legs promptly gave out. Wild rushed to catch him, Twilight catching Sky. Wild shared a panicked look with Twilight, a silent conversation passing between them.

“Okay. Why don’t you two rest for tonight? See how you feel come mornin’.” Twilight’s words weren’t a suggestion, and he and Wild were laying the two of them in their bedrolls swiftly. Time was much too nauseous to argue—and then cold. Shivers wracked his frame, and he pulled his blankets up to his neck.

“Alright?” Twilight asked, crouching by him.

“Awfully cold all of a sudden,” Sky said next to him, and Time was grateful he wasn’t the only one in this.

“Hold on. I’ll shift, and you two can lie against me. Hopefully whatever this is ain’t contagious.” Regardless of his words, Twilight shifted quickly, laying between them and allowing them to press themselves into his side, seeking out the warmth his fur offered.

As the chills settled down to something bearable and the nausea calmed, Time drifted off, praying this would pass soon.

***

Twilight awoke to an overwhelming sense of wrongness, so profound, yet he was unable to place why he felt that way. It wasn’t that he was in his wolf form—he had slept in this form dozens of times before, honestly preferred it to sleeping as a Hylian, when he could curl up in ways his original body couldn’t hope to, especially as he grew older.

Two points of warmth pressed against him: Time and Sky. Except, they felt off, different than they had last night, when both had pressed against him, burying themselves into his fur to keep warm; they felt small. Or maybe, Twilight had yet to fully awaken, and his tired brain wasn’t processing things correctly.

Shaking his head, a long, drawn-out yawn escaping him, so much better in this form when his jaw stretched wider and he could gnash his fangs, Twilight pushed himself up. He shook himself, freeing himself from the clinging threads of sleep, and shifted back to his Hylian form to investigate and prove his tired morning-brain wrong.

And behind him, someone burst into tears.

“Wha—” Twilight whipped around, eyes wide with panic. He had yet to see any of his new companions break down like this; many of them had shed tears when he had pulled through that terrible injury from the Dark, and Wild had come to him later, curling around his wolf form and crying silently into him, but this was raw, unfiltered, like a child’s wailing—

Lo and behold, two children sat behind him. One couldn’t be older than five, and watched him with big, wet eyes; the other appeared to be three, and was in the middle of bawling his eyes out, choked sobs escaping him and tearing at Twilight’s heartstrings.

“What is going on over there?” Warriors spoke up, peering across the fire, only for his eyes to go wide when he saw the two children.

The first child—the older one—turned to his younger friend, trying to console him. “It’s okay!” he cried, though he appeared close to bursting into tears, too. “It just had to… um… it’ll be back soon!”

“’s gone!” the other child babbled. “I wan’ it back!”

“It’ll be back soon! Right, Mister?” the older child turned to him again, and Twilight realised he recognised those blue eyes. His stomach dropped, and his eyes darted over to the other child, with dark-blond hair. It couldn’t be…

“Link?” he asked tentatively, and both kids looked at him.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Warriors said, picking his way over the sleeping forms of their companions—how they stayed asleep in all this, Twilight hadn’t a clue. Potion-induced fatigue really did wonders for their sleep. “Is that Sky? And our Old Man?”

Twilight pinched the bridge of his nose, eye twitching when little Sky continued to wail, little Time’s attempts at comfort futile. “Somehow, yes. I believe this is them.”

“It’s too early for this,” Warriors grumbled. “Hey, what’s wrong, little guy?” he asked, voice lighter, pleasant where he clearly felt nothing of the sort.

“It—it’s gone,” little Sky repeated, making grabby hands at Warriors. Warriors understood his request instantly, and crouched down to sweep little Sky up into his arms, resting him on his hip in a way that made Twilight wonder if Warriors often worked with children. The action brought bubbly laughter to Sky’s lips, and Twilight and Warriors shared a relieved smile.

“What’s gone?” Warriors asked.

“We’ll help you find it,” Twilight added.

“My friend, it was just here.”

Warriors turned to Twilight, eyes alight with understanding. “He wants Wolfie back.”

“That’s what all this fuss is for?”

Little Sky sniffled, grabbed at the fabric of Warriors’ scarf and clutched it tightly in his tiny fist. “Friend…”

“Okay, okay.” Twilight stepped back, taking hold of his twili-crystal and shifting back into his wolf form, wincing at the age-old pain he had long-since become used to. It had gotten easier over the years, but it would never be pleasant to have his bones break themselves down and realign into something different, even if the pain faded quickly.

“Friend!” little Sky shouted.

Little Time cheered, and Twilight jumped, having almost forgotten he was there, with how quiet he had become. “Yay!”

“Do you want to go down?” Warriors asked, already crouching to set little Sky on the ground.

Little Sky clung to him tighter, pressed his face into Warriors’ shoulder. “No!”

Warriors blinked, then laughed, deep and genuine. “Okay, okay. You can stay with me.” He stood back up, adjusting his hold on little Sky for the long run.

“Yay!”

“I want to go up too!” little Time demanded, only he pointed at Twilight, rather than Warriors.

“On Wolfie’s back?” Little Time nodded, eyes alight with excitement. “Is that okay, Mr. Wolfie?”

Twilight huffed, but dipped his head. He struggled with refusing Time when he was his normal self; how could he possibly hope to refuse him as an adorable child? With his smile a little too smug, Warriors grabbed little Time around the waist, effortlessly lifting him with one arm. Both children squealed with delight as they were swung up into the air, and them little Time was set on Twilight’s back, a comforting weight.

“My friend,” little Time murmured, leaning over Twilight’s back and burying his face in his fur. Twilight knew then that the child wouldn’t be leaving him at all today. A part of him relished in that fact, preened at the thought of keeping his ancestor safe.

“Hey, Twi?” Twilight lifted his head, peering at Warriors curiously. “How do you think this happened? Why only the two of them?”

Twilight pondered, thinking back to the previous night. They had both been feeling off, had been nauseous and feverish—but why? His eyes widened, and he trotted over to the pile of discarded glass bottles, nudging the one with a strange yellow liquid still resting within it, a mere few drops when it had been full yesterday, passed to Time by—

“Yucky,” little Sky mumbled, glaring at the potion. Little Time’s fists clutched Twilight’s fur, as if angry, or frightened.

“For the love of—” Warriors groaned. “Why did they even have that potion?”

At this point, Twilight didn’t care. Why they had it didn’t matter; why they had given it to their fellow companions in an act of carelessness, he wanted to know. He growled at the potion, and turned to Warriors, then Wild’s sleeping form, and back to Warriors.

Warriors understood his meaning. “Wild!” he shouted, waking the rest of the group up—finally. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

[jackiepackiee]

Hello, I hope you're having a splendid day!

If your requests are open may I ask for the flags x single parent reader romantic headcanons? I've seen the other one with the mad scientist and I just found it so amazing!

But of course, only if you are comfortable, I don't want to pressure you.

I shall say my good byes now as I have to leave.

Take care of yourself and rest.

Goodbye.

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓵𝓪𝓰𝓼 𝔁 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

Warnings- parent struggles

Type - headcanons

Of course I added Chuuya.

Albatross -

Did someone say the fun dad?

He admires how responsible you are

Quite literally watches in awe at anything you do

Making a snack? Wow. Hushing your kid from crying? He’s shocked by your skill

Your kid likes cars? He will have an entire lot for them.

Trains? Look, now the port mafia has a and it’s trained named after your kid

Almost like a brother, sorry

He’s immature and has never been around kids

So so gentle however

He’s not dumb, just eccentric after all

You’ll definitely walk in on him covered in paint by your kid, laughing and letting it happen

Tea parties? Tea parties.

7/10, congrats, you have a second kid

Pianoman -

Thinks the absolute highest of you

Will never pry on what happened to the biological parent

But if they hurt you? He’s pulling piano strings

The kid is babied, no matter the age

He’s a leader, and a protecter

The port mafia doesn’t even know you have one

He likes a quiet personal life

No nanny’s, he will clear his schedule if needed

It’s his kid now, and he’s ready to try his best

Smart man, makes sure to let you get plenty of rest

Knows it must’ve been hard being alone

So he wants you to recover from however long you missed the rest you’ve needed

You kid wants a new toy? He will counterfeit money and buy hundreds

9/10, a great dad

Lippmann -

Why the hell is your kid suddenly speaking other languages?

It’s Lippmann. He’s too smart and will make sure to compliment you in French, or Spanish, or German

Your kid becomes so well mannered

“Look, daddy is on TV!”

It’s always fun to have a movie night and watch his newest film

Your kid is an actor now, yeah

Expect many private shows staring your lover and your child

His favorite? Princess/prince with him as the knight

Such an incredible comforter to both you and your child

You’re stressed? He’ll make sure you’re okay while also dealing with whatever’s freaking you out

10/10, just perfect

Iceman -

So goddamn gentle

Your heart will melt, watch out

He’s soft spoken and it must be magic at how well he can console your kids whines

You may know of his work, but only what he does

Not the victims, days, times, anything

But you kid? Doesn’t know a single thing

“My daddy is a superhero”

Yeah, depends on who you ask

He is technically killing bad guys (bad guys to the pm that is)

When you lay down your kid he’ll pull you to the kitchen and play a record

Slow dancing and lifting you up with immense ease

9/10, you may have death of a overheated heart

Doc -

…kinda awkward

He is good with kids, of course

All his years in med school? He had to have seen some children

He’s shy with you, but not shocked you have a kid

Will never judge you, not for a second

Makes sure your body has healed correctly

Back pains from pregnancy (if you are the mom)? You don’t know how but he will heal it

Your kid is like a walking dictionary, muttering words that would only make sense to a surgeon

For a doctor, it’s ironic how much he offers candy to them

“Be good and you’ll get a lollipop from daddy.”

7/10, your kid is always healthy, but he’s a bit childish too

Chuuya -

if you’re a teen parent he won’t care

Supports you and your child with his new pm check

Remember that one wan episode when he said that he would spoil a puppy if he had one?

That’s how he is with your kid and you

You want to take the kid to a new amusement park but the lines are too long for the kid to wait?

He will rent the entire thing, boy has connections

A lot of the sheep were young, so he is good with kids

Won’t be great as a role model, but an amazing protector

Nothing will ever hurt you or the child

If you want, he will definitely let you move in

Warning, the house will be filled with toys that the two of you won’t know what to do with

Overall 7/10 his heart is in the right place but he’s so young

[marleyybluu]

Glasses

Husband!Oscar x black!wife!reader

Word count: 2k

Content warning: fluffy fluffy, Oscar is a stubborn husband, a little sexy flirtatiousness at the end, just your typical married couple and we love it, reader is hot for Oscar and his glasses (I mean I would be too tf)

A/N: bare in mind that i don’t have glasses idk how the process goes lmao I just made shit up so sorry if it’s not accurate I guess. Who cares we’re in make believe land rn

Sorry for typos && bad translations if any

(I know these aren’t glasses glasses but… you get it lmao)

"Mama..." Rafa says poking your arm, you look down at him and smile. "Yes?"

"Why is Dad making that face?" He asks pointing over to Oscar who's holding his phone down in his lap with his head tilted up slightly so that he can see the screen better. You shook your head. That old bastard was a stubborn one. You have noticed for months now that Spooky is squinting to read everything, he's holding things at certain angles just the see the words correctly. He even has the kids reading things for him when he flat-out can't make out any of the words.

And of course, you've confronted him about it, saying if he wanted you could schedule an appointment with an optometrist and get his vision checked but he tells you— "No, mamita, I'm fine."

Stubborn Jack ass.

You roll your eyes and sigh dramatically. "Mi hijo, maybe you can talk some sense into your big-headed father. Because he won't listen to me." You say loud enough for your husband to hear. He grumbles and looks over at you, so tempted to say something disrespectful but your son is there. You wiggle your eyebrows taunting him.

"Papa, I think you need gafas."(glasses)

Spooky breathes heavily like a dragon, you swear smoke comes out of his nose too. "Mira, baby, let me just take you to check your eyes. If I'm wrong I'll eat my words and do anything you want."

His ears perk up at the offer. "Anything?"

And you knew what that tone meant. Spooky had been asking for another baby sooner rather than later but you constantly rebuttal with the fact that your third child, Emilia, was only a year old and you refused to have two under two. "Yes, anything." You reply confidently knowing you'd win this battle. He says it's a deal and you smile proudly keeping a reminder to make his appointment later.

-- --

In the days leading up to the appointment, he swore up and down that you'd be wrong, that you'll soon be walking around with a round belly all over again and he couldn't wait to see it. You remain quiet and shrug, occasionally giggling at how cocky he was about this.

After dropping the kids off at your mom's, you two head over to the Optometrist. You're pleasantly greeted by the woman at the front desk who asks you who the appointment is for. Oscar finds himself a seat and huffs like a child. You roll your eyes and mention his name. "I'm assuming you made the appointment." She smiles light-heartedly. "That obvious?"

"Trust me, I've got one at home whose chain I have to pull to even get him to the doctor. They're all like that."

You giggle and look over your shoulder at him as he pouts and looks at his new shoes. The receptionist says she'll let the doctor know you two were there and be back to guide you to a room. You take a seat next to Oscar who immediately puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing at your supple flesh. "So, what do you think the next baby will be? I hope it's a boy, I can't lie."

"Will you shut the fuck up? You are not winning this bet, Diaz."

He looks around before trailing his hand up your dress, your eyes widen when his fingers brush over your panties. "Who you talkin' to like that? Don't let this bet get you fucked up."

You swallow your attitude and shrink in the chair, he removes his hand and gently kisses your temple. Maybe he'd get another baby out of you regardless.

It wasn't long before you two were called in. Once in the room, Oscar was told to sit in the chair that was hooked up to everything while you sat in the extra chair not too far from them. He starts by asking Oscar about his medical history; and if anyone in his family has problems with their vision but he says, "Not as far as I know."

You watch as he's asked to read the chart across the room and he instinctively squints, you cover your mouth to stop your giggles.

Even with the act of squinting he ends up getting a lot of them wrong.

He's tested furthermore and, honestly, it was not looking too good. He was struggling so much that it was truly getting to him, his nails scape at the jeans over his knee caps-- taps them once in a while whenever he lets out a frustrated sigh. You were beginning to feel bad for him, wanting to whisper the letters to him so he didn't feel so... shitty.

The lights in the room turn on and the optometrist sits in his chair. "Mr. Diaz, unfortunately, I do think you'll need some prescription glasses. You are more farsighted in your right eye than you are in your left. The left eye seems to be fine for now. So, I will put in an order for a pair of lenses and when they're ready we'll give you a call to pick out the frames."

Oscar sighs, he sounds so defeated. You two thank the doctor and make your way out of the office building and back to the car. He sucks his teeth while buckling his seatbelt, he crosses his arms and waits for you to put the car in drive but you don't budge. "Why are you acting like this?"

He shrugs. "Let's just go."

"No. What are you upset about?"

"I'm old."

There was a moment of silence, took you a a minute to realize he was serious. "I'm old, mama. I can't see shit, I'm tired, I'm cranky. I'm fucking old. Next thing you know I can't play with my kids, can't play Fútbol con Rafa, dios mio." (Soccer with Rafa, my God)

He was genuinely spiralling. "Papito, I hate to break it to you but we're supposed to get old." You say to him but it (obviously) doesn't help.

"Lo sé, mi amor, pero, they still have to make it to middle school and high school, I gotta see them through college."

"Who says you won't? Mi marido, (my husband) we will be there for all of their events, for all the big changes. We will still be there when they all leave the nest to create their own, and when they come back to visit." You reassure. "I'll still be next to you in a rocking chair. We are not going anywhere, anytime soon. Entiendes? No hay prisa." (Understand? No rush)

He nods, still pouting. You lean over and plant a loving kiss on his lips. "If you ask me you will make a sexy Abuelo. Glasses and all."

"En serio?" A little bit of confidence coming back to him.

"Sí, papi chulo." You purr pulling him in for another kiss. "You know we have a lot of time before we got to get the kids." He grumbles his lips travelling down your neck. "Let's go before you get us in trouble in this parking lot."

He shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time."

You laugh. "I know, I don't want to relive it."

-- --

Days passed and Oscar finally got the call to pick up his lenses and choose the frames, you offered to go with him but he said he wanted to surprise you. You'd been waiting all day excited to see what would walk through the door.

You sighed flipping through the selections on Prime, the house was quiet with the kids either distracted or sleeping and you were bored-- until you heard the car door slam shut and his keys jingle right outside the door. The door swings open but he doesn't enter, not yet. He calls out for you and when you answer all too eagerly he chuckles at your excitement. "You been waitin' on this all day?" He asks.

"Yes, hurry the fuck up." You rush. He appears from behind the door and stands with his arms slightly open. "Cómo me veo?" (How do I look?) He asks. Your eyes widen and your jaw slacks. They were simple black frame glasses, they weren't obnoxiously thick or oddly small, and they were good enough to fit him. You sit up on your knees and lean over the back of the couch. "You look... good. Muy guapo, papito." You slur feeling a heat spread in your lower belly. His eyebrows raise in surprise, he knows that look anywhere.

"Quierida..."

"Oscar... " You had the filthiest line ready for him to hear until a pair of footsteps descended from the steps. "Whoooooa! Elliana, Mira! Papa got glasses!" Rafa announces rushing down the stairs to get a better look and shortly another set of little feet made their way over. The two children were so interested in what was on their father's face and how different he looked. "Can you see better?" Elliana asks and he smiles giving her a sweet kiss on her head. "Sí, mi corazón. Thanks for asking."

Rafa turns to you. "Mama, doesn't Dad's glasses look cool?"

Their eyes were on you but you could feel the taunting nature of your husband's eyes. "Yeah... mhm, he looks... they look-k good." You stammer causing Oscar to smirk.

He had seemingly found an upper hand on you with these glasses and he wasn't afraid to use it over the next week. He had them on even when he didn't need them to see that look on your face— the lust, the adoration— your pupils seem to expand whenever you see him in those spectacles. He just looked fucking hot.

It was the best when he walked around in his grey sweats, alone, with no shirt. Just his tattoos and glasses to complete his look and you ate it up every time. You tug on your bottom lip as you paint the picture in your mind. But why imagine, when you can just go see. The house was quiet, all the kids were sound asleep, you shifted out of bed as carefully as you could to not wake Emilia. Once you are successful you grab the baby monitor and creep downstairs, the television is off and the whole first floor is dark-- the only form of light shines through the windows courtesy of the moon. 

"Why the fuck would you do that!?" 

Ah yes, of course, he was in his habitat. The basement. You sneak your way down to see that the ceiling light is off and he just has the ones around his monitors on, though they are bright enough for her to see where she's going. His back is turned and he's so zoned in that your presence goes unnoticed for quite some time. You cross your arms and dramatically clear your throat to let him know you're here. "Yall give me a minute, wifey is here." You can hear the collective; "Hi wifey!" "Hola señiorita!" "What's good Mrs. Spooky?" 

You smile and greet them right back before he mutes his mic. "What's up?" He spins his chair to give you his full attention. "Emilia's awake?" 

You shake your head. "No, she's still sleeping. Just came to hang out." Your eyes ogle the print in his sweats. He follows your line of sight and chuckles. "You sure?"

"Mhm." You swing your leg over his legs and perch yourself on his lap. "I mention how fucking good you look in these glasses?" You purr leaning in. "They havin' an effect on you, ma. That I can see." He hums ghosting your lips with his. "And that's why you should listen to your esposa (wife)more." 

Your lips finally meet and it's not long before you two are practically nibbling at each other with a mutual desperation to end the sexual tension that's been created over time. "Let me hop off the game-" 

"No, it's okay. They can't see you right?" You smirk gnawing at his jaw. "No, they can't."

You reach between your bodies and slide your hand into his sweats. Oscar reaches up to adjust his glasses and when they begin to fog up he cleans them off and reaches to put them on his desk when you stop him. 

"The glasses stay on, Diaz." 

if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated. peace and love, see you in the next one🤙🏾

🏷️: @darqchilddaydreamz @educatorsareslutstoo @realhotgurlshit @bigenergy777

[bring-forth-his-sac]

Thank you sm (I’m the anon who sent the ask) 🥹 & wow I’m so shocked you’ve only wrote a couple drabbles/imagines because it was honestly so well written! I saw a prompt on pinterest for “you make me proud, you know that right?” & it’s where the reader/character is pregnant & negan is just all soft & proud of her if that makes sense 🥹 if you don’t wanna write this topic it’s all good don’t worry!!! 🫶🏻

thank you so much for the request!! I hope you enjoy <3

Summary: Negan realises you’re insecure about becoming a parent and gives you some much needed reassurance 

Pairing: Negan x Pregnant!Reader 

Tags: Pregnancy symptoms, insecurity, lewd and suggestive language, swearing, fluff, Negan being a big ol’ softie, pet names, praise and reassurance 

Word Count: 2k

You don’t know it, and that baffles Negan.

He knows you don’t know. He can see it in those little moments when you don’t think anyone is paying attention.

At this point, Negan is acutely attuned to all of your tells. He sees the emotional tug-of-war within you every morning when you study the new changes to your body. Usually Negan pays subtle attention whenever he sees you looking in the mirror, making a mental note of what body part to praise more during your next session under the sheets.

He sees the sparkle of humour in your eyes as you announce that you, yet again, for about the sixth time, need to go pee because the baby keeps kicking near your bladder.

Negan absolutely loves to see that pouty look of determination you have plastered across your face whenever he tries to help you complete a simple chore. Despite the slow waddling and frequent breaks you need, you’ve been hellbent on still helping out while pregnant. 

Negan appreciates your refusal to shy away from the more "risky" household tasks, like climbing up on a step ladder to paint the higher parts of the wall in the baby’s nursery. Although he didn’t mind being the one to hold the ladder, it just meant he got to stare at your ass while silently praying you don't fall— a win-win situation, if you ask him.

And yet, you still don’t know. Or maybe you just don’t realise it.

He always picks up on that insecure tone of yours. It usually creeps out every now and again but it has been rearing it’s ugly head more often since the pregnancy. If it wasn’t so concerning, it would amaze Negan that you seriously don’t know how good of a mother you’ll be, or how amazing you’re taking on this pregnancy.

Negan sighs, stretching out on the couch as he reminisces. Only a couple of more months from now and he’ll be looking back on the days he didn’t have to burp a baby and stay up half the night cooing at them. 

As he contemplates the sleepless nights and endless cries ahead, Negan can't help but feel a surge of excitement. He's well aware that in those moments, when he's exhausted and cleaning up baby vomit at 4:30 am, he won't necessarily feel thrilled, but goddammit he just can’t wait to meet the little shit!

He snaps out of his thoughts as you emerge from the bedroom, huffing to yourself. “Looking for something, Momma?” Negan teases affectionately, a lazy grin on his face.

“I forgot shoes,” you announce more to yourself than to him.

“Hmm?” Negan hums, not exactly sure he heard you correctly.

“The shoes,” you reiterate “I never got shoes!”. 

Negan struggles to suppress a laugh at how seriously you’re talking about shoes. He’s well acquainted with how up and down your emotions have been since getting pregnant and so he’s trying his best to be more mindful.

“Sweetness, what shoes?” he asks, keeping his tone soft “we got plenty of shoes just laying around the place”.

The second you leave out another sigh, Negan opens his arms to you, silently inviting you to join him. You waste no time in padding over, practically collapsing into his embrace. “I meant shoes for the baby,” you clarify with a frown “we managed to find clothes, socks, bibs but I forgot about shoes! We can’t have the baby going around without shoes on!”.

It takes a moment for Negan to register your words before he slowly replies “I don’t think newborns do much walking”.

Leaving out yet another exasperated sigh, you lift your legs up, lounging on the couch and using Negan as your pillow. “I know the baby won’t be running around the place straight away but...” you pause, silently scowling at yourself “they’re shoes! How the fuck could I forget shoes?! Like, everyone has shoes! So the baby needs shoes too!”.

Negan peers down at you, trying his best to take in your cranky expression. For a moment, he wonders if it's direct towards him for not thinking of shoes either but then you mumble “I can’t fuck up the basic shit like this…”.

And just like that, everything clicks into place for Negan.

Despite his shock at hearing it, there’s no denying the insecurity in your tone. Even though he knew you were nervous about the baby coming, he didn’t think you’d actually beat yourself up over the little things like shoes – how could you? With the amazing things your body is doing, who gives a fuck about shoes?! …Besides you, that is.

Nevertheless, the vulnerability in your voice catches him off guard. Shifting to hold you properly on the couch, Negan’s arms wrap around you, his hands going straight for your bump. You instinctively snuggle against him, your back against his chest as you rest your head by his shoulder and mindlessly trace patterns on his forearm. 

“You ever just stop and think about it?” he asks, his voice oddly dreamy, a tone you don’t normally hear from him.

“About what?” you ask, growing warm in his embrace. 

“Your body took the spunk I fucked into you and you’re making a goddamn baby out of it! I mean, right now, this very second you’re making a mini us out of nothing but your egg and my jizz!” he laughs in pure disbelief, feeling his heart melt at his own words as pride takes over.

You try not to wince at his colourful description of conception.

With a wide grin, Negan continues “Here you are, cuddling up on me as if you’re body ain’t growing through hell. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Darlin’. Carrying life that we’re after making… you’re a goddamn badass”.

“I’ll make sure to give myself some credit the next time I forget about getting shoes… or some other basic thing for the baby” you sulk, showing off that stubborn quality of yours he loves so much.

He shakes his head affectionately, straining forward to try and see your face. “Hon, you’ve got a lot going on right now, and you’re dealing with a lot of new, stressful stuff,” Negan tries to put your mind at ease “It’s totally reasonable that you’d forget some things. And so what if the baby doesn’t have shoes straight away, it ain’t like they’re going anywhere. It’s not gonna make you a bad mother, you gotta stop thinking that way”.

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment before you slowly begin to open up ”But if I can't even get the little things right, like the shoes, then I’m bound to mess up the bigger things too! And I can’t do that, especially when the baby arrives".

As you speak, you feel yourself that familiar sense of insecurity flare up. You tilt your head up and your eyes look up to meet his gaze, searching for reassurance.

Negan exhales, a content smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite your worrisome expression. After all, how can he not smile while he has you in his arms, pregnant with his baby? His own happy little family, despite everything he has done in life. Now all he wishes for is for you to see just how damn perfect you are, how perfect you have made his life. 

“Darlin’, you’re gonna get stressed and forget things, and fuck up every once in a while. That’s how parenting is. Nobody is a perfect parent. We’re both gonna have our moments and that’s a-ok” he explains, bringing one hand away from your bump to gently cup your face, subtly making sure you keep looking at him “you know why I’m so relaxed about it all?”.

“Because you’re not the one carrying the baby? Or dealing with morning sickness? Or because you won’t have to push out a literal child in a few months?”.

He gives you a quick deadpan look, managing to keep it playful before he reverts back to sincerity “I’m relaxed because I know that even when I’m dealing with a baby that’ll be drooling all over me or screeching in my face in the middle of the night, I know you’ll be right next to me, and that’s all I need”.

His gaze remains fixed on you, drinking in your features intently as he holds your face. For a second, Negan gets lost in thought and silently wishes the baby will have your nose.

“You make me proud, you know that, right?” he strokes his thumb across your cheek “so, so goddamn proud”.

You can't help but smile bashfully in response, feeling a bit self-conscious. In a sweet attempt to hide your expression, you pull your face away from Negan’s hand and nestle yourself closer to him, concealing your face. Accepting compliments has never been your strong suit.

“C’mon, don’t go hiding on me now,” he chuckles, gently searching for your face  “I wanna hear you say it, to make sure you know”. 

Defiantly turning to your side, you use both the couch and Negan’s own arm as a shield to keep your face hidden. He grins, amused by your attempt at avoiding his words. He pokes your side, his voice a mix of teasing and affection.

"You know you make me proud, right?" he repeats with a hint of playfulness in his tone, as if trying to coax you into admitting it “riiiiiiiiiiiiiight?”

Negan doesn't show any mercy, transitioning from playful pokes to relentless tickling. Your body trembles as laughter escapes your lips, struggling to shield vulnerable ticklish spots while simultaneously attempting to fend off his hands. Your head perks up again, a light blush on your cheeks; whether it’s from the sudden tickle attack or Negan’s praise is anyone’s guess.

Between bouts of laughter, you manage to get out a word, struggling to speak through the giggles "R-right!". 

Negan beams, happy you agree. Before you can think, he takes advantage of your unguarded face to plant a quick, chaste kiss on your lips - as if the tickling didn’t leave you breathless already.

Negan's voice becomes a sultry purr as he whispers "How about I show you just how proud I am of you? Actions do speak louder than words and all that shit...". His warm breath caresses your skin as he speaks, his intentions alone sending a shiver down your spine.

A pleased hum escapes your lips, already liking the sound of this. “Works for me,” you agree, biting back a smile as you stand.

Before your pregnancy and even in the early stages, you didn't mind ‘doing it’ anywhere, but now that you've reached the second trimester, the comfort of the bed has become more appealing. Negan has never been particular about where y’all get freaky either way, although he does like how you can both comfortably cuddle afterwards if you do it on the bed.

As soon as Negan stands, he gently checks to make sure you're steady on your feet. When you both begin walking towards the bedroom, you suddenly change direction. 

Negan's expression morphs into confusion as you abruptly pivot and walk towards the bathroom. Looking back over your shoulder, you try not to swoon at the endearingly baffled expression on his face. “Just give me a second, with you tickling me and the baby bouncing on my bladder, I need to pee again” you shrug, waddling off to the bathroom.

As the sound of the bathroom door closing reaches his ears, Negan can't help but chuckle affectionately. In the meantime, he strolls into the bedroom and plops himself down on the bed, making himself comfortable as he waits for your return. His gaze fixates on the ceiling above as a smile plays on his lips once more, a warm feeling of anticipation stirring within him.

Sometimes, Negan finds himself wondering if all the hardships and disappointments he's endured in life were necessary because they were all part of some cosmic plan that led him to you. Or at least that’s what he tells himself so all that pain feels like it was worth it because it brought him to you. 

Negan isn’t exactly sure how he did it or what he did to deserve all of this luck, but goddamn he struck gold having you in his life.

And he knows that for certain.