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spideyjimin · 3 days ago

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Bloodlines entwined: I | jjk

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

— pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader

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

— rating: 18+

— words: 7,213

— warnings: strong language, mention of death, mention of murder, mention of loneliness, mention of blood, several mentions of abortion, and crying

— author’s note: here it is the first chapter of this series! <3 i’m actually very excited about this entire universe, i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve been taking my time to write each part 🤗 the beginning is inspired by Jane the Virgin and the Flash as they are both my favorite shows ✨ i hope you’ll enjoy this part & don’t hesitate to let me know what you think 😊

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Chapter I: when worlds collide

SERIES MASTERLIST | next

Sitting in your car, you’ve been looking blinkingly at the windshield, hands trembling against the steering wheel. For ten whole minutes, you’ve been frozen like this as if moving would shatter the fragile sense of calm you’ve barely managed to hold together.

Your life is about to drastically change; you know it deep down.

“The deed is done,” you whisper to yourself.

You let out a shaky breath, and your reflection in the rearview mirror catches your eye. You look exhausted, your eyes wide and glistening.

For two years, this moment has been building. You have thoughtfully considered having a child on your own. At first, it was just a random thought that crossed your mind, a curiosity born on one of those quiet, lonely moments where life felt both too much and not enough. Then, you deeply thought about it. The idea rooted itself deep within you, anchoring into something raw and tender: a longing to create a family on your own terms.

After much research and consideration, you decided to go for it.

Many people couldn’t understand your choice, but honestly, you don’t give two shits about others’ opinions. What did matter to you was the support of close family and friends.

Felix, the man who raised you after your parents were stolen from you, proposed to accompany you to the fertility clinic, but you gently declined his offer. This was something you wanted to do by yourself. Well, you just came alone to be inseminated. Other than that, he has been by your side every step of the way.

He helped you to go through the countless donor profiles, and every document needed for this adventure of yours.

The process was a bit long and emotionally draining. The first steps were more like an evaluation, mostly for the clinic to understand your reasons and ensure you’ve deeply thought about all the aspects. Having a kid alone isn’t just about fulfilling your dreams but also about building a life for a child.

Once you’ve successfully completed those steps, you had to choose the donor. There were a lot of choices; it was like going grocery shopping. You were handed a catalog of potential donors with their medical histories and first names. It felt odd to be choosing the progenitor like this. After going through every profile, one of them stood out.

Following the donor selection, your cycles and hormone levels were tracked. When all was good, you’d get inseminated on your ovulation period, which technically is happening this week.

So, ten minutes ago, you walked out of the clinic after being artificially knocked up.

If your egg is fertilized, in nine months, you’ll welcome your very much desired baby. A tiny human who will call you mom. You already picked the names, one for a girl, one for a boy. You simply can’t wait to welcome a tiny human in your life. Hopefully, the life of your baby will be better than yours.

You lean your head against the steering wheel, closing your eyes as the ghosts of your past surface.

Twenty years ago, your life was turned upside down when a terrible murderer put an end to your parents’ lives. Nobody ever found him or her; it’s like the person completely vanished into the night. That person left behind a little girl with questions nobody could ever answer and scars nobody could understand.

Since you didn’t have any family left, you were raised by your father’s best friend, Felix. Over time, he became like a second father to you. Even though you were full of anger when he took you over, he stayed by your side and helped you navigate this sad reality; one where your parents weren’t part of anymore.

His daughter, Lexi is your age. You were already so close, and living under the same roof brought you even closer. She’s your super best friend, almost like a sister today. A smile grows on your face as you think of her. Your life would have been a nightmare without her.

Lexi was the first person to be aware of this desire to become a single mother. She even pushed you to do it as soon as you could, and she has encouraged you like nobody else. She also helped you select a donor; she even made fun of the names of some of them.

Your phone buzzes; the name and picture of Lexi appearing on the screen.

“Hi,” you say when you pick up.

“Soo,” she says. “How did it go?”

“Good, I guess?” you say with clear hesitation. “The doctor just inserted a thin catheter, looked at the screen, and said it was done,” you explain. “Now we just have to wait.”

Waiting is now the worst part, especially since you decided not to take any pregnancy test until the next appointment. Meaning, you have to wait two full weeks.

“Let’s hope the donor’s little swimmers are good ones,” she says.

While you always wanted to have a kid, Lexi never wanted one. You and her are total opposites but that’s what helped create such a strong bond between you. “Yeah, let’s hope for that,” you smile.

Two weeks later

A couple of days ago, you took a blood test, and now, you’re in the waiting room, patiently waiting for the doctor to call you up.

These past two weeks, you’ve been internally battling to take a pregnancy test. It’s been hard to fight the urge to discover beforehand if you’re expecting or not. On your way to the clinic, your heart was beating extremely fast with nervousness. Even the music playing in the car didn’t seem to calm you down.

Even though you’re extremely nervous, a part of you knows. You can’t explain it, but you feel it deep down. Two nights ago, you were lying in bed completely exhausted after an intense day at work. The rhythm of your heartbeat was rocking you to sleep. Amidst the thrum of your own heart, you swear you could hear a faint, smaller, and quicker rhythm.

You instantly opened your eyes, scanning the room. The sound wasn’t coming from outside. It felt like it was inside you. You stayed perfectly still, listening to that tiny sound. That night, you were rocked to sleep by that new rhythm.

The morning after, as you caught your reflection in the bathroom’s mirror, something felt off. Your brows furrowed as you noticed your own scent was different. It felt like it was mixed with somebody else’s scent, but it wasn’t as strong as yours or any other living human. It was extremely odd.

After a little while, the doctor says your name, and with shaky legs, you walk to her office. Your heart is beating at a very crazy pace, ready to burst at any moment. This is so stressful; it feels like time is moving so slowly.

“Hello yn,” the doctor smiles at you while you’re entering the room. “How have you been feeling?” you now take a seat.

“I’m good, thanks,” you smile back at her.

She sits down at her desk and takes a look at her computer.

“So, did you take any pregnancy test?” she asks.

“No, no,” you answer. “I wanted to keep the surprise for today.”

“I see,” she looks again at her screen before taping on her keyboard.

She seems to quickly read something before her smile widens. Your heart is going completely crazy. It really makes you nervous, and you try to mentally prepare yourself to receive the bad news as well. It’ll definitely break your heart but you’ll try again.

This entire process is quite expensive, but the payment can be spread out over time rather than made in one shot. With this first payment, you have the right to three attempts. If pregnancy isn’t achieved after those attempts, you’ll have to go through another round and pay for additional attempts.

The doctor mentioned that usually, it takes about three to six attempts to achieve a successful pregnancy. Hopefully, you’ll get pregnant within those first three tries. You’re not entirely sure you’ll be able to afford another round of insemination.

“Well, it looks like it only took you one try to conceive,” she informs you.

And right there, your heart bursts with joy. There’s indeed a little human being growing inside you. You’ll become a mother in nine months. You can’t believe it.

A little tear runs down your face as you hear the good news. It’s such a relief. You won't have to worry about coming back for another round.

“That’s good news,” you clean the tear on your cheek.

“It is indeed,” she says. “In four weeks more or less, we’ll plan an ultrasound to confirm the embryo’s implantation and check for a heartbeat,” she adds.

Well, you’ll still get worried about that because maybe until there, your baby will not survive. But you need to remain positive. No need to start stressing about it; you promised yourself that you’ll try to remain calm the entirety of the process and pregnancy so you’ll offer a great beginning of life to your baby.

“I’m very hopeful everything will go well because both you and the donor are in good health,” she says.

“Let’s hope for that,” you answer.

You then proceed to schedule the next appointment in four weeks. You can’t hide the immense smile on your face. This is the best news you got today. Nothing else will ever be possible to ruin this day.

When you leave the clinic, you instantly call Lexi.

“I AM PREGNANT!” you scream with excitement.

“Yeeeah,” she screams as well. “I’m going to be an aunty!” she adds.

“I’m so relieved that this first attempt was successful,” you admit.

Once you get inside your car, you touch your belly to caress it.

“That baby is so lucky to have you as a mother,” she says after. “And even more lucky to join our family.”

For sure, your family will extremely love this baby. It’s such a desired baby, and everybody has been so excited.

“They’ll be so loved,” you reply.

“There’s absolutely no doubt,” she says. “Dad will be so happy about this news; he’s been so excited to become a grandpa.”

Felix has expressed lately that he couldn’t wait to welcome a baby and become a granddad. This man has raised you for twenty years, and you consider him as a second father. There’s no doubt that your baby will see him as their grandfather even if, biologically speaking, he isn’t.

When you hang up, you stare into the void for a couple of minutes. In this moment, you wish your parents would be here. They would have been so happy to become grandparents, but they won’t be by your side for this new chapter of your life.

They are also the reason why you’re doing all of this. Since they passed, there’s been a tremendous emptiness inside you that even the love of Felix couldn’t fill in. This void stems mostly from the fact that you were left alone when they were killed. You’ve been feeling so lonely since then.

Throughout your life, you tried to fill it with relationships but they all failed. As far as you can remember, you wanted to follow the traditional path to build a family. However, it never worked out. Then, one day, you saw a brochure about single mothers, and you’ve been thinking about it since then.

You’ve seen motherhood as a role that will fill this emotional void you’ve been carrying for years. Plus, you’ve also seen it as a way to finally control your life. Twenty years ago, someone decided for you what your life would become. This wasn’t fair.

And you also want to give your baby the life you never got. You want to give them a loving family that won’t disappear the second the parents die. Outside of your parents, you didn’t have a family. Based on what Felix told you, your grandparents were against your parents' relationship so they moved into another city to live freely and build a family.

Life hasn’t been fair for you, but you want to make it fair for your baby.

Two weeks later

The clinic called you this morning to urgently come in the afternoon, only making you grow concerned during the day. You kept wondering what the reason for such urgency would be. Did they notice something when they did the blood test? Did they get the wrong blood test? Are you even really pregnant?

However, you’re a hundred percent sure you’re carrying a life inside you. You haven’t had the ‘normal’ early symptoms yet, but you can feel your baby inside you. The faint heartbeat can still be heard, and there’s still that subtle scent interwoven with yours.

For the past two weeks, you’ve repeatedly inhaled this new scent, almost to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. Most of the time, you wondered if it wasn’t something like blood, sweat, or the smell of your new shampoo. It was definitely an earthly one. One that only a human can possess.

Once inside the clinic, you’re instantly installed in the doctor’s room. Your heart is crazily beating inside your chest; you’re so nervous right now. Seconds later, a man joins you in the room.

At first glance, you’d think he is the CEO of a huge company. He’s fully dressed in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, his hands casually placed in his pants pockets. This man is extremely charismatic; something about him draws you in.

The man looks at you while frowning, his eyes moving from your eyes to your belly. By reflex, you cover your stomach with your hands. He’s making you uncomfortable with his intense stare.

He has a very strong bestial scent, it predominates his cologne. Everything about him is imposing, even the way his heart beats; it’s so calm while yours is completely erratic. The man’s eyes are clued on you.

The doctor arrives right after and closes the door behind her. Her face is quite serious; she even seems concerned.

“Miss y/l/n,” she takes a seat at her desk. “Mister Jeon,” she looks at the man behind you. “Please take a seat.”

The two of you sit down next to each other with apprehension. You can hear his heart beating a little faster, but he remains extremely calm on the outside.

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The doctor pauses, giving you time to absorb the gravity of the statement. Her tone is gentle, but at the same time professional.

The sterile, cold walls of the room seem to close in around you as the doctor’s words pierce through your thoughts.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” your breath is caught in your throat, your hands trembling. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

Your eyes look at the man sitting next to you. All you can see in his eyes is the same disbelief that reflects your own. So, this is your child’s father.

Many questions cross your mind, but they remain unspoken, lodged in your throat.

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

You desired nothing more than being alone in this adventure; you didn’t want a present father. That was the whole point of a donor. Now, you know the father of your child, and he’d probably like to be present.

For the past months, you went through a series of questions regarding the fact that you’ll raise your child alone. They asked you many times how you’d explain to your child that they don’t have a father. This now feels like a complete waste of time.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment’s costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

Those words seem so heavy and yet, they represent the reality of the choice you now have to face. A knot tightens in your stomach at the thought of undoing something you wished for so long. The baby is now growing inside of you, you’ve got used to falling asleep with their tiny heartbeat. The only thought of not having it anymore breaks your heart beyond comprehension.

Right now, everything—your carefully constructed plans, your hopes, the small life growing inside you—seems to be slipping through your fingers.

Mister Jeon is silent beside you, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He seems as stunned as you, but you can’t help but think that there’s something else there too. Something deeper and darker.

You ignore if he’s thinking the same thing as you, but you can feel it: the strange twist of fate pulling you both into an unknown world, one you both hadn’t planned for.

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

Time seems irrelevant now. There’s a choice you need to make; a choice you didn’t expect to face. You swallow hard, your heart racing inside your chest. Your hands caress your belly through your shirt while you only hear the baby’s fragile heartbeat.

This isn’t supposed to happen. This can’t be real.

Jungkook’s face went pale as the doctor’s words sank in.

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

Just like you, the room’s white walls feel suffocating, the air thick with a tension he can’t shake. A mistake. His mistake. He tried to avoid this situation. He was supposed to go through surrogacy to guarantee a child that would uphold his lineage. His werewolf lineage, pure and untouched by human blood.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” the doctor’s words hang up in the air like a death sentence. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

His eyes quickly look at you, and he notices how much you’re shaking. It seems like you’re in a more devasted state than he is.

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

Jungkook blinks, trying to absorb what is happening. A human child. Nonetheless, his child. Having children with humans isn’t just a personal choice; it’s a fundamental rule of the werewolf society. The very foundation of his power as the king depends on the purity of his bloodline. To break the rule is to risk everything.

He knows better than anyone what happens to the werewolf-human hybrid kids together with the parents. They are killed by the pack. Being a king doesn’t make him the exception to the rule. If this pregnancy goes to full term, not only will he be killed, but the baby and the lady sitting next to him will too.

You didn’t ask for any of this. You don’t deserve to die because of a mistake.

His gaze filled with frustration and panic moves toward you once more as his pulse quickens. He wanted control over the situation. He never intended to father a hybrid child. And now, not only is he involved in this pregnancy, but the child is going to carry his blood mixed with human genetics. God only knows what can happen to this kid, genetically speaking.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

‘This can’t be happening’, he thinks.

His eyes move back to the doctors, his hands clenched into fists. The thought of the entire werewolf community learning of this is unbearable. And what is his mother going to think of this?

She was the first person to support him in this surrogacy journey. She knew how important it was for him to have a child as soon as possible because he’d been struggling to find someone with whom he’d mate. Having an heir is the first thing a king should do to ensure the legacy.

Now, he’s about to have a child with a human. That’s not possible. This child won’t have a pure bloodline, this child can’t ever be an heir.

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

The idea of termination seems dreadful, but the possibility of a hybrid child heir seems even worse. His responsibility as king, and the traditions that have been in place for centuries don’t allow for such breach. To raise a kid with human blood would mean instant disgrace, not only for him but for his entire family. How could he even be respected after this?

His entire world is slipping through his fingers. His position as king is now in jeopardy. This baby will destabilize the entire werewolf community. Nobody will respect him and will only see him as weak. Weak for having a human child.

There’s no going back. His mind tries to find a solution to fix this, or how to undo this. The idea of raising a child with a human—no matter how much it is his responsibility—is unthinkable. He never desired this and hasn’t even considered it. He has been so focused on maintaining his bloodline that the idea of a mistake happening never crossed his mind.

Your presence beside him destabilizes him beyond comprehension. He can see the confusion in your eyes mixed with disbelief. You can’t comprehend the extension of this entire problem. You can’t even comprehend the danger of mixing bloodlines, because you aren’t a werewolf.

Jungkook stands in silence for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts. Terminating this pregnancy isn’t something he desires, but having a child with a human is simply impossible. His heart beats too crazily, and he can hear yours beating just as fast. His heart and duty are pulling him in two different directions.

Finally, his eyes meet yours. His voice is soft but it carries a heavy weight. “We need to decide. This affects both of us.”

After what felt like an eternity, you both leave the room completely shaken up by the news you just got. How could this be happening?

As you’re both walking in the clinic in the parking lot’s direction, none of you dares to speak. You’re a complete stranger to Jungkook. All he knows is that you’re a human carrying his child.

“I can’t have that child,” he finally breaks the silence.

His words cause you to stop.

“It’s too early for me to consider terminating this pregnancy,” you admit. “I need time.”

Jungkook understands your perspective. It’s not a decision you lightly take, especially if you’ve come to this clinic to have a child. It’d be completely absurd to abort after going through this entire process.

“Of course,” he says. “But I want you to know my point of view.”

You nod, understanding his perspective as well. This is such a horrible situation. Jungkook wanted to have an heir while you simply wanted to have a child on your own. On top of that, he doesn’t look like the donor you selected.

“So if I decide to keep it, would you be out?” you ask.

Jungkook considers your words. There’s a possibility that the baby could still exist, but he wouldn’t be part of their life. He’d still be losing because he wants a child, but at least this way, his position wouldn’t be jeopardized, and no one would get hurt or killed.

“It’s possible,” he honestly answers.

You nod once more. Even though he decides not to be part of his child’s life, he’d still know that he has a kid somewhere. He wouldn’t have any trouble finding you; he already knows your smell, and he has the means to find you.

“Okay,” you say.

Jungkook watches you take a pen and paper from your purse before writing something.

“This is my phone number,” you hand him the piece of paper. “In case you change your mind or take a decision.”

The man takes the piece of paper while you give him a small smile. You start walking away, his eyes following you until you disappear inside a car.

In this situation, he definitely would like to ask his mother for advice, but he can’t. He already knows the answer she’ll give him. ‘This baby can’t exist.’ And she’s right, but he can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy. It’s your body after all.

In the eventuality that you decide to proceed with the pregnancy, he guesses he’ll let you be a mother alone and pretend like this kid doesn’t exist.

You’ve spent the last two days crying in bed. The conversation with the doctor and this mysterious Mister Jeon has been playing over and over in your head. You can still picture everything so clearly; the white walls of the doctor’s room, the apologies from the doctor, and Mister Jeon’s piercing gaze.

‘There’s been a mistake,’ ‘There was a mix-up with the sample,’ the words still echo in your mind.

You’ve been trying to make sense of how such a monumental mistake has happened. But nothing seems to make sense. The clinic did this; the clinic took control over your decision. This chapter of your life was about you gaining control, but once more, someone decided for you. It’s been making you angry.

You’re furious at the clinic and their negligence. You trusted them with your project of building your own family. However, they decided otherwise.

But underneath that anger, there’s another fury; one directed to yourself. You were so focused on having a child on your own terms that you didn’t stop to consider the what-ifs. You didn’t stop to consider that something might go wrong. And now, you are here.

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours now, your mind trying to find a solution. Do you keep this baby? Do you terminate the pregnancy?

This choice feels impossible. It feels like no matter what your life will completely change.

But deep down, you somehow feel some kind of relief. Because when Mister Jeon—this intense and charismatic man—said there was a possibility he’d walk away, that he’d leave you to raise this child alone, you felt lighter.

His potential absence is appealing. It aligns with your original choice, to be a single mother. A choice where your child is yours, and yours alone. But then, there’s also a possibility where he stays, or that he comes back later. What would happen then?

You press your hands against your face while a guttural growl leaves your lips. This is so damn frustrating. This should be simple. Because now, you’re left wondering what you want. Do you want to walk away from this and stick to the original plan? Or do you want to embrace this chaos, and see where this might lead?

Your hands slide down to your stomach, caressing it while you hear again the tiny heartbeat. This sound comforts you which makes you close your eyes.

For now, you don’t have any answers to all your questions. You’re not even sure you’ll have them tomorrow. For now, you’ll let yourself breathe. You’ll let yourself feel. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the answers.

The sound of your phone ringing pushes you out of your own thoughts, informing you that you received a message. You sit on your bed before grabbing the phone on the nightstand. You received a message from an unknown number. By curiosity, you unlock your phone to read it. To your surprise, it’s the famous and mysterious Mister Jeon.

From unknown: hi miss y/l/n, this is jeon jungkook, the father of your child. i’d like to meet you to discuss the matter. would you be free tonight?

Your heart hammers inside your chest, ready to burst at any second. He contacted you sooner than expected. You were thinking that you wouldn’t hear anything from him for at least a week. You thought you’d have more time to make a decision before meeting him. Now, it seems you don’t, and that you’ll have a very interesting conversation with him tonight.

With shaky hands, you start typing your answer.

To unknown: hello mister jeon, we could meet tonight

When you press ‘send’, you stare at the conversation, waiting for an answer. Mister Jeon responds instantly to your message, proposing to meet in a town square. You accept the suggestion and quickly go to your clothes cupboard to pick up an outfit.

The man seems very impressive, and you want to be presentable. He’s after all the progenitor of the life growing inside you.

A couple of hours later, you take the road to the meeting point. Surprisingly, you’ve remained calm for the entire drive. Driving is actually the only thing able to calm your tormented soul. Whenever you go through something very intense, you just drive to clear your mind.

However, since this pregnancy thing, even driving hasn’t been able to help you out. You tried to drive yesterday, but it only made things worse. So it definitely surprises you that you’ve been able to clear your mind before meeting Mister Jeon.

When you arrive, he’s already there waiting for you. He’s not wearing a suit, quite the contrary. His outfit is only made of a grey sweater with a blue pair of jeans. His hair isn’t perfectly pushed back as it was two days ago. It feels like you’re meeting a completely different person.

When he sees you, he stands up. As he does so, you notice he holds a box in his right hand. It’s a small one, but it still intrigues you.

“Good evening, miss y/l/n,” he says.

“Good evening, mister Jeon,” you say back.

His presence is still very imposing, but the fact that he isn’t wearing a suit anymore changes it a bit. He seems more approachable than he was in the clinic.

“Please call me Jungkook,” he offers you a small smile.

It’s the first time you see him smiling, and it feels like a very warm one. Beneath it all and in the midst of the city noise, you can perceive his heartbeat. It’s quite rapid which makes you tilt your head. Is he nervous?

“You can call me yn as well,” you smile back at him.

“I’ve brought you a box with some pastries,” he hands you the box. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Your smile grows wider at his simple but heartwarming gesture. This wasn’t expected, but it lightens the mood. Jungkook seems to be a nice person which contrasts with the cold and unreadable person he seemed two days ago.

“Thanks,” you say while grabbing the little box. “You didn’t need to,” your eyes look up at him.

After that, you both sit down on the bench he was on before you arrived. By the way he rubs his hands on his tights, you can tell that he’s a bit nervous. You try not to overanalyze him, because you know your mind will go crazy, full of questions.

“What is happening is really crazy,” he admits with obvious nervousness. “I never imagined things would go this way,” you nod.

Jungkook looks everywhere, except at you. It seems like he isn’t brave enough to face you, almost like a teenager confessing his love.

“As I told you two days ago, I can’t have this child,” he finally speaks. “I really would love to, but I’d put the three of us in danger.”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. What does he mean by ‘putting you in danger’? Does he come from a crazy family? Is he part of the mafia? This is scaring the hell out of you.

“We didn’t know each other up until two days ago, and you don’t deserve to be put in danger because of a stupid mistake the clinic did,” he seems angry when he mentions the mistake. “But I can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy, it’s your body, and it was also your wish to have a child. I can’t take that away from you.”

It kind of surprises you how respectful he is. Any other man in his position could have forced or paid you to put an end to this pregnancy. It’s really admirable.

“In case you want to keep going with it, I just want you to know that I’ll step away, and I will never come back to reclaim a role I refused from the beginning.”

You wonder what the reasons behind his decision could be. This man desired to have a child but is now refusing to have one with you because of a mistake.

“To be honest with you, I don’t know what to do,” you admit.

His piercing eyes finally look at you. For a split second, you can swear that they were red. Red like blood. This destabilizes you, and you furrow your eyebrows. You’re not sure if you’re being delirious or if this is real.

“I wanted to become a mother, but not like this,” you continue, still destabilized by what you just saw. “So it leaves me wondering what I should do. But if you walk away, I’ll be more tempted to keep the baby because, in the end, it’ll go as I planned.”

In an unexplainable way, this man puts you at ease. It feels like you can confess how you truly feel about this situation without being judged by him. This man exudes serenity which draws you even more to him.

“I get that,” he says.

For a brief moment, you only look at him while your heart peacefully beats in your chest. His dark eyes stare right into your soul, and it feels like the world completely stopped. There’s just the two of you. But Jungkook breaks the contact, looking in another direction.

“If you decide to keep the child and need any financial help, I can give it to you,” he speaks.

This man definitely seems like a good guy, and you wonder even more why he’s walking away from this.

“I won’t,” you answer. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t have any means to take care of the baby.”

For sure you need financial stability to be a single mother, and you would have never embarked on this adventure without having it.

Jungkook runs his fingers through his fluffy hair, avoiding still your gaze. “Can I ask why you want to become a single mom?”

The question catches you off guard. You weren’t expecting this man—this stranger—to be interested in you.

“I didn’t have an easy life and I grew up without my parents,” you confess. “Motherhood was something I aspired to have in my life since I’m very young, and I’ve desired to give to my child everything I didn’t have. No matter if it was with someone or alone.”

Your eyes shift from Jungkook to the square full of people. It’s never easy to express out loud and to a complete stranger why you embarked on this adventure. Mentioning your parents is actually never easy; even after all this time.

Suddenly, you feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you in complete silence. For once in your life, people’s heartbeats and scents don’t suffocate you. You can hear and smell them, but it’s like it doesn’t matter.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve had those developed skills. You can hear stuff from afar, and you can strongly smell people’s natural body’s scent. Since it’s kind of ‘normal’ to you, you got used to it; but sometimes, and especially when you’re in the middle of heavy crowds, it suffocates you. It becomes simply too much.

This is something you never told anyone, too scared to be judged. Undoubtedly, people would say you’ve gone crazy due to the trauma of losing your parents. Not even Felix or Lexi knows about it. They just think you’re agoraphobic.

However, lately, you’ve been trying to go to some crowded place to overcome this suffocating feeling. You ignore why you’ve been doing it, but you’ve been doing it. It’s still too much, but today, next to this complete stranger, it doesn’t feel like it.

“I’m sorry you lost your parents,” he whispers.

You turn to look at him to offer him a little smile.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Can I also ask you why you’re doing this?” you dare to ask.

Jungkook nods before looking away once more. It definitely looks like it’s hard for him to hold your gaze.

“In my world,” he starts saying. “I have heavy responsibilities, and having a child is one of them. But I can’t have one with anybody. I’m very limited in who is the biological mother so that’s why I can’t have one with you.”

You almost feel offended by his words. In which kind of world can’t you be the mother of his child? It’s completely crazy!

“Oh,” you simply say.

“You could have been the surrogate…” you can hear some kind of chuckle. “But never the progenitor.”

“It’s seems like a tough world.”

His eyes look again at you; you can see that he seems to hesitate with the answer.

“It isn’t,” he finally says. “But it is with me.”

Obviously, he carefully chose his words.

“Well, I hope you’ll find the right mother for your child,” you offer him once more a little smile.

“Thanks,” he smiles back at you.

The two of you look back again at the people walking in the town square. They are walking around you, ignoring totally what you’re going through, what tough decision you have to make. They ignore everything about you, just as you ignore everything about them…

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he adds.

“It’s not your fault,” you answer. “It’s the clinic’s.”

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the people walking in front of you. His heart is racing and piercing through your ears. He’s even more nervous than he was before, and it concerns you a bit. But you don’t say anything, too afraid to scare him off if you reveal you can hear his heartbeat.

“Yn…” he starts. “There’s something you need to know,” his voice is deep and low at the same time. It’s so low that it almost drowns out by the distant chatter of people passing by.

You turn to look at him, your brow furrowing. “Okay,” you whisper.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, his jaw tightening before he exhales. His eyes don’t meet yours immediately, but when he does, there’s an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

“When I said my world is different,” he swallows with difficulty. “I don’t mean it in a metaphorical sense. My world, my reality is not the same as yours.”

You frown even more, confusion plastered all over your face. You’re definitely incredibly confused. How could his world be different than yours? You live on the same planet, and breathe the same air. How could it be not the same?

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook gets closer, his voice dropping even lower, barely audible. However, you still hear it perfectly.

“I am not entirely human, yn.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You stare at him while waiting for him to elaborate. However, Jungkook just stares at you, waiting for your reaction.

“What do you mean by ‘not entirely human’?” you tilt your head.

For a couple of seconds, he doesn’t speak, almost as if he’s scared to reveal his true nature to you.

“I’m a werewolf.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. It leaves you wondering if this man is of sound mind. Right now, you’re slightly concerned about his mental health, and the future of your child, if you keep them.

Your first reaction is to laugh, dismissing his words as if it is some kind of twisted joke. But the look on his face tells you that he’s deadly serious. This isn’t a joke.

“A werewolf?” you repeat to make sure you hear it well.

Jungkook nods. He looks tense and he maintains his deep glance on you.

“It’s why I can’t have this child,” he starts to explain. “In my world, bloodlines matter. Werewolf bloodlines are sacred, and the continuation of my lineage isn’t just about having a child. It’s about having the right child with the right kind of mother.”

The weight of his words crashes over you like a tidal wave. You stand up, your hands running through your hair. Your mind is spinning, and your pulse thunders in your ears. This is something you definitely weren’t expecting to hear today.

Werewolves? You’re carrying the child of a werewolf?

This sounds like it comes straight from a fantasy movie.

“This doesn’t feel real,” you whisper to yourself but Jungkook hears it.

“I didn’t want you to be dragged into this world, but you deserve the truth.”

You keep your back turned to him while you cross your arms against your chest.

“This is something you need to consider if you decide to keep the baby.”

At his words, you freeze. Instinctively, your hands down move to your stomach. Jungkook’s eyes follow your hands.

“Is this…” your voice trembles. “Is this a viable child?”

If you want to keep going with this pregnancy, you need to know if this baby can survive.

“There wouldn’t be any reason why this child wouldn’t survive because of mixed blood,” he stands up and gets close to you. “But as they grow up, they’ll develop werewolf abilities. And, one day, they’ll probably turn into one. It’s pretty unpredictable, though. There’s never been a human-werewolf hybrid before.”

Damn, this is leaving you speechless. How can this be real? Werewolves are supposed to exist in movies, not in real life.

“This is insane,” you rub your hands on your face. “This can’t be real.”

Jungkook steps closer. His presence is grounding but nonetheless overwhelming.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you demand, your voice filled with panic.

Before you can blink, he gets even closer to you. He’s in front of you in an instant, his hand gently grabbing yours. Your eyes look down at his hand as you notice it changing. His fingers elongate, his nails sharpen into claws, and the texture of his skin turns into something more beastly. Slowly, your eyes look up, and what you see completely freezes your body. His eyes glow a deep, predatory red, and there’s something undeniably wolfish about them.

You take a step back while setting your hand free. As you do so, Jungkook shifts back, his hand returns to its normal form, and his eyes fade back to a human form. The transformation is so quick that it almost feels like you imagined it.

“So what happens now?” you ask.

Jungkook’s gaze softens at your words.

“That depends on you, yn.”

Please note that the taglist is closed

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bloodlines entwined #spideyjimin

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jeonginsleftcheek · 20 hours ago

Text

Safe embrace

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut, best friends to lovers

wc: 16k

synopsis: your toxic boyfriend leaves you just as you find out you're carrying his child, making your worst nightmare come true. thinking you have no one and you'll have to care for the baby alone, you're pleasantly surprised when your best friend swoops in to help you out.

warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of abuse and cheating, mentions of abortion (all in the beginning), pregnancy symptoms, crying, brief description of birth (nothing graphic)

nsfw warnings: multiple sex scenes, pregnant sex, nipple play, breeding kink, breastfeeding kink, oral (f and m), fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, felix is soft and obsessed

a/n: this was kind of inspired by this drabble i wrote! hope you enjoy the full fic💙 i never wrote pregnant reader and i wanted to write something mostly sweet🫶🏻

~ divider by @strangergraphics

~ masterlist

You were standing in front of your bathroom mirror shaking, the two little lines indicating that you were pregnant.

Your eyes welled up with tears, your worst fear had come true.

You were so close to getting out of your toxic relationship and now you were bound forever to the person who abused you and treated you like crap.

Anxiety took over your body as you started sobbing, he was going to come home from work soon and you had no idea how he'd react to the news.

Around 8pm he walked in, late as usual, you knew he was cheating on you but any time you tried to start a conversation with him, he'd find a way to spin it and make it seem like everything was your fault.

In the back of your mind, you knew it wasn't but three years of verbal abuse can do a lot to a person's way of thinking, and you were used to being figuratively smacked around by your boyfriend, always making excuses for him in your mind; he's exhausted from work, he didn't mean it, someone irritated him, he'll be better next time.

He never got physical, but sometimes you thought it was just a matter of time before he starts slapping you around.

It's not like you never tried to leave, you did.

But, he always found a way to manipulate you into coming back to him and like a fool you always fell for his empty promises.

This time, you decided it was the last time and you finally gathered all of the courage you had.

You were going to leave his sorry ass and never come back again, never fall for his lies again, never feel this miserable but now you felt you had no way out of this.

"What did you make for dinner?" he asked, not even sparing you a glance as he took his tie off.

"Chicken and rice." you answered.

"Good." he said as he continued to strip and you stood there nervously, playing with your fingers.

He lifted his head up and frowned at you.

"What are you waiting for? Serve me dinner, I'm hungry." he looked at you as if you were just a maid in his house and even though you wanted to tell him to put his own damn food on his plate, your tongue was twisted like always and your legs had a mind of their own.

You did what he asked, serving him dinner, before you sat on the other side.

He sat down and started eating. Your heart was beating fast as you kept looking at him.

"There's something I have to tell you." you decided to break the ice.

"What?" he asked, an unimpressed look on his face.

"I- I'm pregnant." you said quietly and he froze before his fork fell out of his hand, clattering against the plate.

Suddenly, he started laughing.

"You're shitting me, right?"

"No, I took a few tests and they're all positive."

He continued laughing and it was not the reaction you expected.

"Whatever. Get rid of it." he said, picking his fork back up and continuing to eat.

"What?" you looked at him in shock, your heart skipping a beat.

"You heard me. I'll pay for the abortion. I don't want to have a child with you." he said like you were the most disgusting thing he's ever seen.

"I'm- I don't want to get an abortion." you swallowed and he looked up at you.

"Well, I don't give a fuck about what you want. You will do as I say."

"No, I won't!" you stood up suddenly and he looked up at you before letting out a chuckle.

"Great, I was looking for a reason to do this." he said before standing up.

"D-do what?" you stuttered, taking a step back as fear washed over you.

"Get the hell out of my house." he crossed his arms and your lips parted.

"You're throwing me out?" your eyes widened.

"Yes, if you don't get rid of that thing, I want you out."

"But I have nowhere to go." your eyes filled up with tears, you had nothing of your own, your asshole boyfriend made sure he was the one to provide you with everything so you had to depend on him.

"Do I look like I care? You're good for nothing anyways. Can't even cook a decent meal and now you wanna have a baby? Ridiculous. The only thing you're good for is spending my money."

His words stung and everything around you started spinning, your head hurt and you had trouble breathing as you started panicking.

"You didn't let me work!" your voice raised as your eyes filled with tears.

He scoffed, coming closer to you as he grabbed your wrist and you yelled for him to let you go but he started dragging you towards the front door.

"I said get out bitch! I don't want anything to do with you and whatever is inside you. If you ever come near me again I'll fucking kill you!" he yelled as he opened the door, literally throwing you out before slamming the door in your face.

You couldn't believe he reacted this way, you thought he'd use your pregnancy to manipulate you even more but he did the opposite.

You really had nothing except your phone in your pocket, not even a jacket as you shivered in the cold night air. Tears kept sliding down your cheeks as you turned and started walking down the street. Your mind was blank for some time while you were trying to process everything that happened.

You reached for your phone and saw you had texts from Felix, your best friend. A smile spread on your face instantly, he was the only good thing in your life, the only light that shined on you in your darkest moments. You decided to call him and he picked up almost immediately.

"Oh, hey bubby! I was just about to text you." he answered cheerfully, as always.

"Lix." you sniffled. "Are you home?" you almost didn't recognize your voice, you sounded broken.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Felix was worried instantly.

"Can you pick me up? Please?" you couldn't stop crying.

"Of course, tell me where you are and I will be there as soon as I can." he said, already getting up and grabbing his jacket.

You told him where you were and waited as you picked on your jeans.

Felix drove fast, finding you in less than ten minutes. His heart broke when he saw you hugging yourself and shivering without a jacket.

He ran out of his car fast and you looked up at him, fresh tears forming in your eyes. Felix took his jacket off without a word, wrapping you up in it before enveloping you in a hug.

"Shh, it's okay bubby. I'm here now." he soothed you with his warm deep voice, his hand moving in circles on your upper back.

"Let's get you warmed up, hm?" he leaned back to look at you and you nodded.

Felix turned up the heating in the car for you and the ride was silent as he drove you back to his apartment. Your mind started spinning as you stared out the window, all the possible scenarios passed you by and none of them seemed positive.

Felix led you to the couch, wrapping you up in a blanket and running to the kitchen to make you a cup of hot cocoa as you melted into the warm and soft fabric that was hugging you.

It smelled like Felix and it was comforting just like he always was.

"Careful, it's still hot." he smiled as he brought two cups of steaming hot cocoa, before sitting down next to you carefully.

"Was it him?" Felix asked with a serious expression on his face, referring to your, well now ex-boyfriend.

Felix never liked the guy, he could see right through his fake smiles and fake words. You never told him the extent of the abuse but he knew something was wrong.

"He threw me out of his house." you said, clutching onto the blanket and Felix's eyes widened.

"What? What the hell is wrong with him?!" Felix looked angry at that moment, his face becoming red and his hands clenching into fists.

"Because I'm pregnant." you finished, suddenly finding the white rug under the coffee table in Felix's living room interesting.

It was quiet for a while before you felt his hand on yours so you looked up at him and he wore the softest expression you've ever seen on your best friend's face.

"I'm so sorry, y/n."

"Well, it's not your fault. It's mine. I was dumb and let him control me, I should've left him sooner and now he dumped me and said he doesn't want me or the baby. Actually, he threatened me, telling me if I don't abort he will throw me out. And I told him that I'm keeping the baby..."

"First of all, you're not dumb, he is. I knew he was an asshole but I had no idea he was this sick. I can't believe he told you to abort, that's your decision to make anyways." Felix said and you sat quietly as he squeezed your hand.

Your eyes welled up with tears again.

"What am I gonna do now? I have nowhere to go."

Felix scooted closer to you.

"Wrong." he said with a smile and you looked at him. "You can stay here, with me."

"B-but I don't wanna impose on your privacy. And with a baby too..." you felt like a burden at that moment, like you were asking too much of Felix even though he was the one to offer it first.

"Nonsense. You're my best friend, you think I would leave you out on the street? You and your baby are more than welcome here. I will help you with everything you need and you can focus on growing a life." he smiled at you and you burst into tears.

"Y-you're an angel, Lixie." you sobbed as you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"More than sure, bubs. You know I love you a lot?" he said, his eyes full of warmness as he smiled at you sweetly, caressing your head.

"I love you too, Lixie." you held him tightly.

"Now, drink your cocoa before it gets cold." he chuckled, handing you the cup.

You felt so blessed to have someone like him as a best friend and the horrible feelings that filled you up earlier were now in the back of your mind.

"You must be exhausted." Felix noticed as you kept sinking into the couch while you drank the cocoa and he yapped about his favorite games to get your mind off of everything.

"Actually, I am." you nodded.

"Are you hungry? I'll make dinner and you can take a nice hot shower." Felix smiled.

"I don't even have any clothes." your eyes welled up with tears again.

"You can wear mine. Don't worry about anything." he quickly shook his head and you nodded as he reached to touch your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

When you stepped into the shower, you were left with your thoughts again.

You thought about your life, your now ex boyfriend and how you let yourself get into this situation where you couldn't even help yourself and had to depend on someone else helping you.

And now you had a life growing inside you, your ex's words ringing in your head; how you're not capable of doing anything properly, not even cleaning or cooking let alone anything else, how are you going to take care of another human being?

You couldn't stop crying but you didn't want to worry Felix and stay in the shower for too long so you tried to dry your tears and look normal as you got dressed in the clothes he gave you.

Felix turned to look at you as you walked in and his heart hurt when he saw the redness in your eyes and your sad face, you've never looked this down before.

"I made some ramen. That was the fastest thing I could whip up but tomorrow we can go shopping for some groceries because you need to eat healthy from now on. Oh and you're gonna need to make a doctor's appointment. Don't worry, I'll go with you." he talked as he served dinner and you sat with your hands in your lap, crying quietly as your tears soaked the fabric of the shirt you were wearing.

"Y/n?" he leaned down to look at your face.

"I'm sorry, Felix. I just feel so bad." you sniffled.

"Hey, it's okay, really. I told you I don't mind taking care of you, in fact it makes me happy."

"It's not just that." you hiccuped as he sat next to you, grabbing your hands and rubbing circles with his thumbs.

"What is it?" he tilted his head at you.

"I don't think I will be any good at this." your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

"What? Being a mom?" Felix frowned and you nodded.

"You're gonna be an amazing mom, y/n. I've known you almost my whole life and you're the most caring and responsible person I know. Look, I know everything seems terrifying right now, you just found out you're pregnant and your ex acted like an asshole so you're pretty shaken up. What you need is food and sleep. And to stop thinking about things that haven't even happened yet, hm?" Felix played with your fingers and you nodded, wiping your tears away.

"You're right, I can't even think straight right now. There is so many emotions inside me that I don't know where to start."

"Let's start with dinner." Felix smiled and you were amazed at how calm he seemed.

But on the inside, Felix was seething. He couldn't believe that your ex really had no heart, throwing you away like he did, especially when you're pregnant.

Felix was mad at himself in a way, he felt like he could've done something more to help you get out of the toxic relationship earlier and you wouldn't be as hurt as you are now.

He wished you chose him instead of your ex. Things would've been different then, Felix would treat you like a queen, the way you deserve it.

To you, Felix looked absolutely calm as he smiled at you but rage was bubbling up inside him along with the need to smash in your ex's face. But he held all that down for your sake, his top priority was to make you feel safe, not upset.

"I would give you the guest room to sleep in but it kind of became a storage room. So I'll have to get everything out and clean it up but in the meantime you can sleep in my room and I'll take the couch." Felix said after you got ready for bed.

"Oh, I can sleep on the couch, I don't wanna take your room too." you said, your face burning.

"No way, the couch is not comfortable." he shook his head.

"But isn't that gonna be bad for your back?" you worried instantly, knowing that your friend had back problems.

"I'll be okay for one night." he smiled.

"If you're sure." you chewed on your lip nervously.

"Of course."

Felix changed the sheets and prepared the couch as you barely stood on your feet, the exhaustion from the turmoil you felt washing over your body.

"Everything's gonna be okay, bubby." Felix said soothingly as he gave you a warm hug.

You didn't know what to say to thank him for everything he's doing, instead you just squeezed him tightly making him squeal and chuckle.

"Good night, y/n."

"Good night, Lixie."

As soon as your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep, drowning in the soft sheets and blankets.

Felix tossed and turned on his couch, mind racing with thoughts.

He thought about how much you meant to him, how much he had always loved you and wanted to be with you, but it was like you were blind to his love and instead kept running to your asshole ex.

He thought about how scared you must be, a protective feeling waking up inside him along with all the other feelings he had for you that he needed to learn how to suppress because you had a boyfriend.

Felix decided he was going to do his best to show you that love is supposed to be soft, comforting and sweet, not whatever your asshole ex made you believe.

The next morning when you woke up, you were confused for a second until you rubbed your eyes and looked around.

Seeing you were in Felix's room, everything that happened last night came flooding back, some kind of fear washing over you but the fact that you were surrounded by Felix's comforting scent and his things managed to calm you down.

He always had this effect on you, that's why you kept one of his hoodies for years even though it didn't even smell like him anymore; it belonged to him and that was enough to comfort you.

Shit! Your things!, you remembered, your ex threw you out without giving you any of your clothes, your knick-knacks and most importantly your laptop.

You slowly got up, following the sounds of utensils that were coming from the kitchen.

As soon as you entered, you saw a very disheveled Felix running around the stove like a busy-bee.

The smell of eggs hit you and your stomach started rising up to your throat.

"Oh, good morning y/n." Felix turned to look at you just as you covered your mouth with your hand. His eyes widened as you turned around, running to the bathroom.

"Shit." Felix cursed under his breath, turning the stove off and running after you just in time as you leaned over the toilet.

He quickly gathered your hair in his hand as you threw up, his other hand moving in soothing circles on your upper back.

"Ew." you whimpered as your eyes teared up.

"Are you okay?" Felix asked cautiously when you flushed the toilet.

"The smell of eggs was too much. I didn't think this would start already." you groaned and Felix chuckled.

"Damn, my cooking sucks that bad, huh?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood and you giggled.

"We can work on that." you winked as he smiled at you.

"You know what? I will look up what's good for you to eat right now with the sickness and all, and I'll make it for you." he said.

"That's sweet, Lixie but I can make it myself, don't worry about it." you quickly shook your head.

Felix pouted at you before grabbing your face. Your heart skipped a beat.

"Listen to me. I enjoy taking care of you so let me do this for you."

"Fine." you sighed as you made your way back to the kitchen.

"Remember that time in high school when you got shitfaced?" Felix smirked at you, throwing the half-burnt eggs in the trash.

"Oh my god, please don't talk about that." embarrassment washed over you.

"Come on, we can laugh at it now. You were so funny, you couldn't even talk properly. And you tried to climb on the table and dance. I think if I didn't catch you, you'd probably break a bone or something." Felix snickered as he searched up some breakfast ideas on his phone.

"Ha ha, very funny that I almost got a concussion by being a lightweight." you rolled your eyes with a smile.

"Nah, I would've caught you before you hit the floor anyways." Felix smiled, making your stomach flutter.

"Hey, I have some of these things in my kitchen. Oats and almonds and such." he showed you a recipe he found and you nodded.

"I can make that too, it's no biggie." you started getting up but Felix shook his head.

"I know you can. But I want to do it for you."

You couldn't argue with him and he seemed genuinely happy about making you breakfast so you sat down and waited, playing with your fingers.

"You know, I remembered that I never had the chance to get all my stuff from my ex. My laptop is still at his place." you chewed on your lip.

"I'll get them." Felix said nonchalantly as the two of you ate.

"A-are you sure? He can be... an uncomfortable person." you grimaced and Felix chuckled.

"Bubby, I have a 3rd degree black belt in taekwondo. I could break him in half if I wanted to." he smirked, making you giggle.

"You're right, I forgot with how innocent you look." you teased and Felix laughed.

"All the better. He won't know what hit him." he sat up straight then made a few moves with his arms acting like he was cutting the air into pieces.

"Okay, just don't get in trouble, killer."

When Felix left to get your things, you decided to clean up the kitchen. You didn't want to feel like you were just waiting for him to do everything for you, you wanted to do your part and help him out when he took you in without even thinking twice.

Felix must be an angel, that's what you thought as you smiled to yourself while washing the dishes.

Your angel was currently parked in front of your ex's house, his hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the way he held onto it.

He was trying to calm his anger down, the one that surfaced as he thought about your disgusting boyfriend yelling at you and throwing you out into the cold night.

Felix had to walk in there with a cool demeanor, otherwise he would end up letting his anger get the best of him and he'd show the guy just who he had crossed.

After taking a few deep breaths, Felix finally made his way to the door and knocked. Shuffling could be heard from the other side before your ex opened the door, giving Felix the elevator eyes.

"Oh, you." the guy scrunched his nose up.

"I'm here to pick up y/n's things." Felix said calmly.

"Whatever, just do it quickly. It's junk anyways, you saved me the time I would lose throwing it out." he shrugged and Felix could feel the anger course through his veins but he had to bite his tongue.

He tried to gather all your stuff as quickly as he could, putting it in a bag he brought, making sure to take your laptop too. A small smile danced on his lips when he saw you still had his favorite hoodie. He grabbed it and put it in the bag too before turning around to leave the room.

"I'm assuming y/n ran to you immediately." your ex scoffed. "Makes sense, she's not capable of taking care of herself anyways."

Felix's eyes darkened.

"You better watch what you say." his voice dipped low.

"Or what?" your ex folded his arms on his chest, staring at Felix.

"Or you'll regret it."

"Ooh, I'm so scared!" he mocked as Felix made his way out of the house.

"Don't even think of coming near y/n again or trying to contact her. Matter of fact, I don't wanna hear you say her name ever again." Felix said and turned on his heel, not giving your ex time to respond as he frowned on the porch.

"I had no idea you kept my hoodie." Felix smiled as you rummaged through your things and your face heated up.

"Oh... Of course I did. It was a gift." you smiled back.

"Yeah, I remember that day like it was yesterday. We were at Jeongin's birthday party."

2 years ago

You had been invited to yours and Felix's mutual friend's party for his birthday. Getting your boyfriend to go with you was another story.

"Why do I have to go? I don't even know Jeongin well. And why would you want to go there alone? We should stay at home." he said.

"But Jeongin is my friend! He invited me and I already bought a gift."

"So what? You can just give it to him some other day. I was hoping we could stay in tonight." he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

"B-but I really want to go." you said.

"Fine. Go. But there will be consequences."

"What?" your eyebrow lifted in shock. "What are you talking about?"

"If you want to find out, just go to the party." he smirked at you.

"I- Just... just come with me? Please?"

He looked at you, pursing his lips as he thought about it. There would be so many guys there, is what ran through his mind. He didn't think you were that pretty but a horny drunk guy would fuck anything that walks so he decided it would be best if he went just so he could keep an eye on you.

"Fine."

Unaware of his thougths, you squealed happily, giving him a hug.

But everything went wrong at the party. Your boyfriend thought you had lingered too much while hugging Jeongin, making his delusional mind come up with all sorts of scenarios of you cheating on him.

He got drunk and made a scene, calling you a cheap slut before he left the party, leaving you behind. You cried as you ran to the back porch, wanting to catch some fresh night air in hopes of calming down.

"Hey, you okay?" it was Felix, who followed after you.

"Not really." you sighed, wiping your tears away as you shivered.

He noticed you were cold so he took off his hoodie.

"Here, you can have it." he smiled sweetly at you, making you melt instantly as you thanked him.

"You know you can do so much better than him, right?" Felix asked as you drowned in the warmth his hoodie provided.

"We all have our flaws, Lix. He's not that bad. He'll realize he was wrong and apologize to me once he's sober." you shrugged.

"Are you sure? Because if he-"

"Lix, it's fine really. You don't have to worry."

Of course it wasn't fine, the whole relationship kept spiralling downwards after that, bringing you to your current situation.

"Y/n?" Felix brought you out of your thoughts as you clutched onto his hoodie.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I got distracted." you smiled and he smiled back at you. "Lixie, thanks for being there for me always. I know I kind of ignored you lately but my ex didn't like me talking to other guys."

"What an insecure pig." Felix said and you chuckled. "But of course, I told you I'd always be there for you. Now, I'm gonna clean out the guest room and then we can call to make a doctor's appointment, does that sound good?"

"Yeah, sounds perfect. Do you need me to help?"

"No, it's all heavy stuff i have to move." Felix shook his head so you offered to make lunch.

While you were making it, you remembered what your ex said.

'Can't even cook a decent meal and now you wanna have a baby? Ridiculous.'

Your eyes watered instantly and you quickly wiped off the falling tears, continuing to cut veggies. You heard Felix moving around stuff and grunting as you cooked, humming to yourself.

"All done." he came into the kitchen with his hair messy and a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Something stirred in your gut for a moment but you ignored it.

"I'm almost done too. The smell of the meat is bothering me a little." you said and Felix gasped.

"Oh, let me finish up then." he quickly made his way to you.

"Maybe you should shower first." you took a step back from him and he pouted.

"Are you calling me stinky?"

"Mhm." you grimaced and he laughed.

"Fine, I get it. Be back in 5 minutes." he practically ran out of the kitchen and you let out a breath you were holding.

It wasn't that the scent of him made your stomach rise, quite the opposite, he suddenly smelled even nicer to you than before and once he came closer you felt it in your core. You scolded yourself for thinking about Felix like that and tried to ignore it as you finished up lunch.

When Felix came back, his hair still damp from the shower you looked at him in anticipation as he sat down to eat. Anxiety washed over you as you expected to be chastised for being a lousy cook even though you know in your heart Felix would never say something like that.

"Mm, this is delicious. I must say, I don't eat very healthily since I work a lot and this is refreshing." he smiled at you and relief took over.

"Thank you, I'm glad you like it." you smiled back at him.

After lunch, you called to make a doctor's appointment and Felix had some work to do on his computer, luckily he was mostly working from home as a programmer, only going to the office twice a week or more if needed for a project.

"I hope the bed is comfy enough." Felix said as you were getting ready to sleep in the guest room, which was now your room.

"Lixie, please, I'm grateful to have a bed at all." you sighed and he grabbed your hand.

"We'll get through this." he whispered and you nodded.

"I know."

A few days later, Felix and you walked out of the hospital with news that you were 6 weeks pregnant and that thankfully the baby was doing well.

"See, you had nothing to worry about." Felix smiled at you as the two of you got in his car.

But your emotions got the better of you immediately as you started crying.

"Oh, y/n?! What's wrong?" he leaned towards you, worry evident in his voice.

"I don't know, I- I think I'm crying from relief." you sniffled and Felix smiled at you fondly. "Let's just go home." you added, not even realizing that you called his apartment 'home'.

But Felix did, and his stomach filled up with butterflies that wouldn't stop flying around his insides until he parked in front of the building.

"I'm not feeling the best." you clutched at your stomach as you walked in, the feeling of nausea taking over your body. It was exhausting but you kept trying to remind yourself that this was just a phase, the worst part of it and that it will get better with time.

Some days it worked, other days it was unbearable. Today seemed to be one of those other days as your emotions were all over the place.

"Okay, go lay down and I will make some lunch."

Felix took it all so seriously, stepping up immediately as if it was his baby which made your heart clench in your chest. He made sure you were comfortable, brought you some tea and crackers for nausea, even pressed his lips on your forehead as he tucked you in.

When he left the room, tears started sliding down your cheeks and soaking your pillow.

You felt like you didn't do anything to deserve someone like Felix taking you in, and the burden of a baby that had nothing to do with him and you had no idea why he would go to such lengths to make you feel good. Yes, of course you knew that he cared about you but you felt beyond grateful and humble, trying to think of a way to give back.

But, Felix saw this as a second chance with you. A chance he would not let go to waste like he did before, when he held his tongue and his feelings back, never even hinting to you how much he loves you. It was enough for him that you were there and that everything was fine with you and the baby, the rest was not as important.

"I can't believe you're actually pregnant." Felix chuckled as the two of you chilled on the couch after dinner, some romantic comedy playing on tv.

"I can't believe it either." you chuckled with him. "I think it'll be more believeable when I start looking the part." you added and Felix froze for a moment.

How could he forget?

He'd already noticed your breasts getting bigger and he felt bad for the way he kept stealing glances at them all the time, but at the end of the day he's just a man.

It wasn't his fault that they looked rounder, and that you didn't care to wear a bra next to him, your nipples poking under the material of your shirt constantly, the way they swayed or jiggled with any movement you made.

Felix felt his dick twitch and he started beating himself up immediately. It's barely been two weeks since you were at his place, and he knew you were vulnerable and the last thing he would want to do was to make you feel like he was pouncing on you instantly.

God, he got so used to keeping his feelings and urges about you to himself, why was that so hard all of a sudden?

"Excuse me." Felix stood up rather quickly and you looked up at him shortly, watching him scramble to get to the bathroom.

You shrugged, continuing to watch the movie as you snuggled closer to the spot he was lounging in, the couch still warm and smelling like the body wash he used earlier. For some reason, you wanted to roll in it but you settled on stealing his spot and taking deep breaths.

Felix was trying to exercise deep breathing too, as he stood in the bathroom, willing his cock to soften up. Just the thought of you being all round and cute had him so worked up. How is he supposed to survive this?

Somehow, he managed to calm down and when he came back to the living room, his heart fluttered when he saw you dozing off in his spot.

"Bubby? You wanna sleep?" he said quietly, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear gently.

"Mm." you mumbled, half asleep.

"Cutie." Felix chuckled fondly before he gently lifted you up and carried you to your room.

"Lixie." you reached out for him blindly as he laid you down.

"It's okay, I'm here. Get some rest." he caressed your head before going back to the living room.

Your dreams were filled with images of your best friend that night, fleeting pictures of a relationship that never happened appeared in your mind, ending with the two of you holding a baby in your arms.

Couple of weeks later, you and Felix fell into a nice rhythm. He was mostly home, only having to go to the office twice a week, sometimes four days if he was working on a bigger project. You were glad he was there because your nausea has gotten worse and Felix didn't mind helping you out as always, cooking and cleaning together with the work he was doing.

You felt bad for that again, crying to him how you feel like you're not doing anything in the house and Felix was quick to shut all those thoughts down.

"Y/n, you are growing a literal human being. That's exhausting, your body is changing rapidly and you're scared. And that's normal and it's okay." Felix held you in his arms.

"How are you so understanding?" you hiccuped as you gripped his shirt, soaking it with your tears.

Because I love you.

Because I wanna make you happy.

Because you deserve this and more.

"I've been reading some books." Felix smirked playfully instead of saying all the other thoughts that crossed his mind at first.

You looked up at him before bursting into laughter, smacking his chest as he giggled at you.

It was getting harder for him every day, living with you and being together 24/7 felt so domestic, especially with you being pregnant and Felix kept daydreaming that the baby inside you was his baby too.

It didn't help that your tits just kept getting bigger and that you finally had a little bump to indicate the precious life growing inside you and Felix was obsessed with the way it looked on you.

You were slowly coming to terms with it, everything felt so surreal because it was happening so fast and you knew that even though it seems hard and exhausting right now, the baby would come very soon and then the real work will begin.

You spent a lot of time looking at your body in the mirror, checking it out and trying to accept that you were changing forever. It was hard but Felix was there for you, taking care of you, never missing a doctor's appointment, cooking for you, his arms always open to take you into his embrace where you felt the safest.

You had no idea how you'd get through all this if it wasn't for him, so when he left to work at the end of the week, you decided to make him a chocolate cake as a thank you even though you knew the pastry wasn't enough for what he was doing for you and your baby.

You were glad you woke up feeling somewhat less nauseous that day so you could function normally. Baking the cake proved to be fun as you blasted some music and enjoyed making something sweet for Felix.

"Bubby, I'm home!" he yelled out as he walked in around 4pm, while you were cleaning up in the kitchen.

"Hey, Lixie." you smiled at him as he came into the kitchen.

"How are you feeling?" he made his way to you, his arms wrapping around you automatically.

"Good, actually." you melted in his embrace as he held you from behind, his hand sliding down to caress your tummy. It was comforting when he touched you like that.

"Something smells nice." Felix chuckled, burying his face in your hair and you could feel the tip of his nose brushing against your neck. Goosebumps appeared on your skin as you pressed your body back into his without even realizing it.

"I baked you a cake." you said, not noticing the way Felix's breath hitched when your backside pressed into his middle.

"You did?" he asked happily, moving away from you because he was moments away from losing his mind.

"Mhm, chocolate, your favorite." you said as you walked over to the fridge to take it out.

"You spoil me, bubby." he grabbed your face, kissing the tip of your nose.

You were so close to grabbing his shirt, pulling him into you and kissing his sweet, inviting lips.

"You should eat lunch first. Dessert later." you said and Felix chuckled.

"I ate at work. I want my treat." he pouted, acting all sulky and you couldn't resist his adorable face.

You cut two pieces and the two of you sat down.

Felix dug in immediately, you knew he always had the biggest sweet tooth and he baked you his brownies hundreds of times so you wanted to show your appreciation.

"Mm, I love it!" he smiled happily and your heart fluttered as he munched on the cake cutely.

"Really? Is it better than your brownies?" you smirked, teasing him and he coughed a little before smirking back at you.

"Let's not go that far." he teased back and you smacked his arm playfully as he chuckled.

Fridays were always reserved for movie night and cuddles so later that evening Felix and you were settled on the couch together.

You noticed he looked tired and kept touching his neck, grunting under his breath quietly.

"Are you in pain?" you asked and his eyes widened a little before he looked at you.

"Oh, it's nothing. I just didn't have any time to stretch today because we had this big project to finish up before weekend. Basically, my neck and shoulders are on fire but it'll pass, it always does." Felix shrugged, waving it away with his hand like it was nothing.

"Lixie, let me give you a massage. I wanna help." you offered, having no idea that the thought of your hands on him like that had Felix twitching.

"No, it's fine really. You don't need to do that, I'll just sleep it off."

"Nonsense, come on." you motioned with your hands and Felix nodded, not wanting to upset you as he turned around.

He took a deep breath in, trying to calm down as you gathered his hair out of the way, your fingertips brushing against his sensitive neck and ears, making him shiver.

A blush appeared on his freckled cheeks, spreading to the tips of his ears and down to his neck as you sat closer to him, your legs around his frame as you put your hands on his shoulders.

"You're so tense." you snickered quietly, your breath hitting his skin.

"Ha... yeah, well I was sitting at my desk all day." Felix bit his lip, shutting his eyes tightly as you started to massage him.

"Jeez, relax. You're so stiff." your gripped his shoulders, trying to roll them back a little and he laughed nervously.

"Oh you have no idea." he said and you furrowed your brows, shaking your head as you continued giving him a massage.

He managed to relax after some time as you worked your magic on his neck and shoulders. It was so quiet around you that the action felt so intimate and you found yourself scooting closer to Felix. His neck looked pretty and inviting and suddenly you just wanted to press your lips on his skin.

And that's exactly what you did as you leaned in, mindlessly pressing your lips on the back of his neck.

Felix nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to look at you, his face red as a tomato.

"What was that for?" he swallowed and you chuckled embarrassingly, playing with your hands.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I- I just leaned in and-"

"No, it's fine." Felix saw that you were getting upset immediately, your mood swings getting the better of you lately. "Just wasn't expecting it."

"Is you neck better?" you asked, ignoring the way your face burned.

"Oh yes, definitely. Thank you for that, bubby." he smiled at you and you felt warmness spreading inside your chest.

Felix laid in his bed restless. He couldn't stop thinking about your touches and the way you kissed his neck. He couldn't help it as his hand wandered down to his boxers, gripping his bulge before he started palming himself.

"Fuck." he grunted quietly, biting down on his arm as he pushed his underwear down just enough to take his leaking cock out and wrap his fingers around it.

He felt dirty for it but his mind swam with thoughts of you as he sped up, trying to finish as quickly as he could. He checked up on you earlier and you looked so sweet while sleeping soundly, he knew you felt safe with him and that was his number one goal.

He wanted nothing more than to make you feel comfortable and relaxed, to make you feel good. He wished he could cross the line and bring you pleasure the way you deserve it. With how selfish your ex was, Felix doubted he ever made any effort around you in that area too.

His mind wandered to your body then, specifically to your chest and he imagined himself sucking on your sweet nipples and that was enough to make Felix snap as he twitched and came all over his hand and abs.

He gasped, riding his high, his eyes teary.

After cleaning up quickly, he laid back in bed and fell asleep fast, trying not to think about the fact that he just touched himself to the thought of you.

"Lixie?" you gently knocked on his door before opening it, tears sliding down your cheeks.

"Felix?" you slowly made your way to his bed and he groaned in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open.

"Y/n?" his voice was deep and scratchy as he squinted at you. "What's wrong?" he sat up when he noticed you were crying.

"I had a nightmare." you sniffled and his expression softened as he lifted up his blanket.

"Come here, bubby." he invited you in and you plopped down in his bed, settling your back against him. It wasn't the first time you cuddled like that but you haven't shared a bed in so long, not since you started dating your ex.

Felix wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his body gently, nuzzling his face in your hair and the back of your neck.

Goosebumps rose on your skin as he caressed you gently, his hand landing on your tummy.

"Wanna talk about it?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin.

"N-no. It was about my ex and I don't wanna give him any more attention that he doesn't deserve."

"He's not gonna hurt you or your baby. And if he tries I will fucking kill him, so don't worry about him sweetheart." Felix held you a bit more tightly, but was still careful with your tummy.

"Lixie. I love you." you kissed his hand as your fingers entwined and he smiled.

"I love you too, bubby. More than you know."

And with that you fell asleep in Felix's safe embrace.

After that night, you had a hard time falling asleep alone; Felix's body warmth and his comforting presence lulled you to sleep so you sneaked into his bed.

Eventually, Felix told you that you can just sleep in his bed freely every night and you were more than happy to do that.

He loved having you close, but there was a battle inside him, having to resist the craving he had for you was harder than he thought it'd be. Especially when he'd wake up in the morning and watch you sleep so soundly.

It was one of those morning where he woke up first and watched you. Your belly was bigger now along with your breasts and Felix thought you looked adorable. He was admiring you, how strong you are, after everything your ex put you through and left you alone with a baby you were taking it so well. You never complained about anything, even if you were in pain but Felix knew you too well so you couldn't hide it from him.

He wanted to make your pregnancy as comfortable as he could, the thought of you suffering made his chest hurt. Felix caressed you gently as he thought about you and how much he loves you. He couldn't help himself, the emotions that have been building up even more now that you were here and so vulnerable with him started overflowing his heart, traveling through his veins and spreading through his body.

Warmness enveloped him as his cheeks burned and he leaned in, pressing gentle kisses on your cheek, down to your jaw and neck.

You stirred a little but didn't wake up as his lips touched your skin, his hand caressing your belly.

"L-Lixie?" you muttered, still half asleep.

"Bubby." Felix grabbed your face as you turned to look at him, your eyes fluttering open just in time when he leaned down and pressed his lips on yours. You gasped a little, but still kissed back as he moved his plump lips against yours.

Your heart picked up speed and you were shocked that he was kissing you out of nowhere but at the same time it was so comforting and sweet to feel his lips against yours. Felix started letting go of everything he held back, his hands slowly sliding on your arms down to your waist and belly before resting on your hips.

He licked at your lips with his tongue and you let him in, your entire body burning up. You haven't been touched passionately since forever and being pregnant meant you were extra sensitive plus it was Felix. He was your everything.

He overwhelmed you with his scent, his warmth, his touch and you melted into the sheets as his tongue massaged yours, his hands grabbing at your plushy thighs.

You gasped for air once he leaned away, looking at you with hooded eyes.

"Lixie, w-what..."

"Shh, bubby. Will you let me worship you?" he licked at his lips as his darkened eyes ran all over your body, lingering on your breasts.

"B-but... My body doesn't look the best right now. Pregnancy did things to me like stretchmarks a-and-"

"Y/n, you look fucking beautiful. Let me show it to you." he persisted and you nodded, your heart skipping a beat in excitement.

Felix leaned down to kiss you again before his lips traveled to your jaw and neck. He licked at your sensitive spot, biting the skin and sucking on it, eliciting a small moan out of your lips.

His hands slid up to cup your breasts and you whimpered as he squeezed gently, running his thumbs on your sensitive nipples.

"Wow." he lifted up and stared at them, pressing them together and you chuckled. Felix's face became red as you looked at him intently while he played with your nipples.

He gripped the end of your shirt and you nodded so he took it off, his mouth practically watering at the sight of your body. You were left only in your panties and he could already see a wet patch appearing on them.

Felix stared at you making you feel self-conscious for a moment, your arms coming up in an attempt to hide yourself.

"Don't hide, bubby. You look perfect." he gave you a small smile, his hands on your breasts again.

"Lixie." you whispered as your breath got caught in your throat.

"Mm, they're so big." he leaned in closer to your chest. "Please." he whimpered as he massaged them gently.

"Okay. Just be gentle." you said quietly.

"Of course." he said before running his tongue over your sensitive bud.

You whimpered, instantly feeling a wave of hotness run through your body, your pussy dripping and soaking your already damp panties. Felix wrapped his pretty lips around your nipple and started sucking, his eyes fluttering shut in delight as he moaned around you.

You were getting incredibly wet, probably because of your hormones, you were more turned on than ever, your pussy throbbing for to be touched.

"L-Lix." you whined as he gently kissed your breasts, alternating between massaging them and sucking on them.

His hands slid over your belly and he smiled at you.

"You're so beautiful. And strong. You know that?" he said and your eyes watered.

"Stop praising me, I'm gonna cry." you answered, feeling sensitive everywhere.

"If it's happy tears then they're welcome." Felix pressed a kiss on your belly as he rubbed your thighs, his fingers tracing your stretchmarks.

"Is this okay?" he asked and you nodded.

He looked at your bump, almost going cross-eyed from the closeness of it and you stifled a laugh.

"Sorry baby, close your eyes and ears now." he grimaced and you let out a chuckle.

"Gotta make mommy feel good." Felix smirked at you, his hand coming closer to you panties.

He ran his middle finger on your folds and you whimpered, shivering instantly.

"So wet for me, hm?" he looked smug and your legs shook for a moment as you nodded.

"Take them off, please." you whined quietly.

"Anything you want, my sweetheart." Felix said before hooking his fingers in your underwear and sliding it down. He threw it somewhere behind him, his eyes fixed on your pretty pussy.

His brows furrowed as he brought his finger between your folds, going up and down slowly, spreading the wetness on your clit and pressing into it in circular motions. You were so sensitive that you couldn't contain your moans or your middle chasing his touch and Felix observed you, how quickly you were unraveling because of his touch.

"Can I taste you, bubby?" he gave you his puppy eyes and you giggled.

"Sure." you could never say no to that face.

Felix leaned in, the tip of his tongue licking at your clit immediately and you moaned loudly, your hand flying to his hair. He groaned when you gripped the blonde strands, encouraging him to taste you further. He let his tongue slip between your folds as he closed his eyes, enjoying your pussy like it was his last meal ever.

Your legs were shaking, automatically trying to close around his head which you couldn't even see properly because of your bump. You gripped his hair harder as you lifted up a little to see his face, his eyes closed as he kept moaning into you, looking all blissed out giving you pleasure like that.

It made you even more wet to see him enjoying it, his nose brushing against your clit perfectly as he made out with your pussy, pushing his tongue as deep as it can go, fucking you with it while he gripped your thighs.

"I'm- I'm close!" you whimpered, pulling on his hair harshly and making his eyes roll back in his head.

"Cum for me, bubby." Felix groaned, his deep voice even deeper in his arousal as he kept devouring you.

"L-Lix! Lixie!" you almost pulled all his hair out as you gripped hard, your legs closing around his head while you painted his face in your release.

Felix loved it, loved that he made you feel so good that you fell apart against him.

"Mm..." he lapped you up as you shook from your intense orgasm.

"Need more." you whispered, feeling like you were out of your mind in that moment.

"Of course, beautiful. Tell me what you need." Felix hovered over you, ready to make any wish you have come true.

"Y-your fingers." you moaned and he smirked, bringing the tips of his fingers on your folds.

"My fingers? How many?"

"Two." you answered quietly as he kept smirking.

"As you wish." Felix ran them on your wetness before slowly pushing them in. You moaned, gripping at the sheets instantly as you took in the way he looked, all disheveled and worked up from tasting you. A shiver ran down your spine as he pushed in, your pussy taking his fingers with no resistance.

"Fuck, what a good girl you are." Felix groaned as he started moving his fingers inside you, the wet sounds made your ears red in embarrassment.

"Oh you like that?" he smirked as you clenched around him. "You like being called a good girl?"

"Yes." you moaned out, pushing up into his hand as he started fucking you faster, the tips of his fingers finding that special spot quickly.

"What about my good girl?" he emphasized, making you clench around him yet again so he sped up, the force of his arm making you shake.

"Y-yes! Oh my god!" your legs shook as he started quickly flicking his fingertips over your clit while pounding into your sweet spot.

You were starting to see stars as you moaned loudly, and Felix leaned in to suck on your nipple, making it the last straw before you clenched around him and squirted all over his hand.

"Oh." you gasped as Felix looked at you.

"That's so hot." he groaned.

"Lixie, please." you felt like your mind was gone and all you could think about was his cock filling you up.

"Mm?"

"Please, fuck me." you gripped at his arm and he chuckled.

"Never thought I'd hear my sweet bubby say something so dirty." he chuckled and you smacked his arm, feeling annoyed and needy.

"Never thought this could happen but here we are." you said, pulling him closer with your legs.

Felix chuckled as he took off his underwear, now completely naked and you looked down, mouth watering at the sight of his pretty dick, all hard and leaking just for you.

He saw the way you were looking at it so he pressed his tip on your folds, massaging them a little before slowly pushing his tip in.

"Ah!" you moaned, gripping at the sheets as Felix stretched you, slowly filling you up until he bottomed out.

"You feel perfect around me, bubby." Felix groaned as he leaned down to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

Your legs wrapped around him and you brought him as close to you as you could.

"Just be careful." you whispered and he smiled, caressing you face as he looked at you lovingly.

"Always." his hands slid down to your hips as he leaned up and started moving inside you slowly, dragging his cock against your velvety walls and making you feel every inch of him claiming you.

Felix hated the fact that your ex had you like this when he didn't deserve to have you at all. He hated that it was your asshole ex who gave you a baby instead of him, the ultimate connection between two lovers.

But when Felix looked down at your face, the way you stared up at him like he hung the stars in the sky, little moans escaping your lips as you gripped at his arms, your tits jiggling with every movement of his hips and your cute baby bump, his heart softened.

He was going to love this baby as if it was his own.

Felix continued fucking you, making you cum three more times as you shook from overstimulation, begging him to just cum inside you.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his cock twitching at the thought.

"Well, I'm already pregnant, we're clean and it's not harmful so yes." you said as he slowed down, trying to keep himself sane.

"Fuck, you really want my cum inside you, hm?" he gripped your hips as he fucked you faster and your pussy clenched around his length.

"Yes- please!" you almost screamed out, your legs holding him in a death grip as he drilled his cock into your fucked out pussy.

"You're so cute like this. But I still wish I could breed this sweet little pussy." he groaned and you gasped.

"Felix!" you couldn't hold it in, squirting around his length as he grunted and fucked you harder.

"Fuck, you like that, huh?" he grabbed your breasts, both of you losing your minds completely.

"Ah yes, please breed me Lixie!" you begged and that was enough to push Felix over the edge as he spilled his hot seed inside you.

You dug your nails into his arms as the two of you rode your high together. Felix slowly pulled out of you, the sight of you laid out under him with his cum dripping out of your spent pussy made him grunt.

"So pretty." he ran his fingers on your folds, gathering his cum and pushing it back in.

"S-sensitive." you whimpered and he pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his lips as he licked at them.

"Wait a sec." Felix then got up as you stared at him, your entire body tingling in bliss. He came back with a warm wet cloth to clean you up, smiling at you the entire time as he kept caressing your soft skin.

"W-what now?" nervousness washed over you and Felix giggled as he tossed the cloth aside before leaning over you, his hands cupping your cheeks.

"I love you, that's what." he said, rubbing his nose against yours.

"I love you too, Lixie but... the baby, I don't wanna be a burden to you." suddenly your eyes teared up as sadness washed over you. "It's not even your responsibility to care about my baby."

He quickly shook his head, running his thumbs on your cheeks and catching your tears.

"You and your baby will never be a burden, because I love them as if they were mine. Maybe it's not my responsibility, but it's my pleasure." he said as he pressed gentle kisses on your lips.

"R-really? You wanna help me raise my baby?" your lips trembled as more tears raced down your cheeks.

"Of course, I wanna be here for you and the baby one hundred percent. I- I've always loved you, y/n. I beat myself up every day for not stepping in when your ex was basically holding you captive and abusing you."

"It's not your fault, Lix. I was dumb and naive, I was blind. He fed me sweet lies and I believed him, there was nothing you could say back then that would make me leave. I was stuck." you sat up, grabbing his hands in yours.

"I still feel like I should've protected you." he sighed.

"You're here now." you reassured him with a genuine smile and he searched your eyes for a moment before his face broke into the signature smile that reaches his eyes and warms up your soul.

"I am. And I don't plan on going anywhere." Felix leaned in to kiss you lovingly before pulling you into a hug, his hand caressing your head soothingly.

"I'm scared, Lixie." you whispered as you held onto him.

"Of what?" he asked as he kissed your temple.

"All of this. The baby, I'm almost half-way through my pregnancy and they're coming soon. I'm actually gonna be someone's mom."

"You're gonna be a wonderful mom, bubby. And you won't be doing any of it alone, I'm with you every step of the way." Felix said and the dam broke as you started crying again.

"I love you so much, Lixie." you held onto him like he was your lifeline.

"I love you more." Felix said as he kissed you and though you couldn't know exactly how he felt on the inside, you believed him.

Sitting at the doctor's office as Felix squeezed your hand, you anticipated the news you've been waiting to hear for some time now.

"Congratulations, you have a perfectly healthy baby girl." the doctor smiled at you as you gasped.

"Oh." your heart swelled, now you could start making a list of names and imagine yourself with your daughter.

"That's wonderful news! Thank you, doctor." Felix smiled as you sat there speechless, thinking about the precious life growing inside you.

"Are you okay, bubby?" Felix asked as you were silent while walking to his car.

"Just realized this is becoming more real every day. Now I can imagine myself with her, I can give her a name. I'm happy." you concluded and Felix chuckled as he caressed your cheek.

"I'm happy too." he pecked your lips. "How about we go on a date to celebrate tonight?"

"Sure, I'd love that." you nodded with a smile.

Felix and you have been officially dating for a few weeks now, and you felt so safe and relaxed with him, craving his presence more and more every day.

Of course he took you out on dates, the two of you took romantic strolls in the park, bringing some food to have a picnic there, you went to the movies and sat in the love seat, cuddling the entire time and hit the best cafés in town but you never went on a fancy date.

You had one pretty dress you were saving up for a nice occasion, it hung in the back of your closet in the guest room. You had no idea if you could even put it on now but you were willing to try.

Luckily the material was stretchy and you only filled it up more, your breasts almost spilling out of it and you chuckled to yourself, knowing Felix will definitely appreciate the sight.

"Bubby, are you ready?" you heard him yell from the living room.

"Be right there!" you yelled back, looking at your reflection one more time. You were satisfied with the way you looked, pregnancy glow was a real thing and Felix kept reminding you how beautiful everything about you is every single day, adding on to the smile on your face.

"Oh, sweetheart." Felix's eyes widened when you walked into the living room.

"Is it okay?" you asked, fidgeting with your bag.

"Okay?" he chuckled. "You're absolutely breathtaking." he came closer to you, his hands sliding on your hips to your waist and belly as he caressed it gently.

He smirked suddenly, his hands cupping your breasts.

"Lixie." you chuckled, smacking his arm with your little bag and he laughed.

"Sorry, I just wanna rub my face there." he bit on his lip. "One squeeze?" Felix pouted at you cutely, batting his long eyelashes, the little menace.

"Just one." you warned and he nodded, gripping your breasts as he leaned in to kiss you roughly, his tongue swirling around yours hungrily.

When he leaned back you were breathless.

"Let's go or we will never leave." you chuckled.

"Fine." he whined playfully as the two of you made your way out.

Dinner was fun, finally sharing a nice meal out with Felix felt so rewarding as the two of you reminisced of high school and college days.

You realized he was there with you the entire time, he never insulted you, never yelled at you, never made you feel less than, he always made you feel so truly happy, always thinking of your needs and preferences. You've never met a man like Felix and you were thankful to have him in your life.

You wanted to show him how thankful you were as soon as you got home, your hormones were raging lately and you were constantly horny which was fun for the both of you (maybe not for the baby).

Felix was so cute to you, always hovering over you with his adorable smile and silly antics, he was like a little kitten rubbing against you whenever he could.

That was the case as soon as you sat down on the couch, he nuzzled his face between your breasts immediately.

"Mm." he sighed happily, rubbing his cheek against you as he placed his hand on your tummy.

"Having a good time?" you chuckled, caressing his head and he nodded.

"Let me make it even better."

You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours as you kissed him. Felix melted into you instantly, his hands on your breasts like always as he squeezed them and played with your nipples gently.

You gripped his hair, leaning his head back as you started kissing his neck and Felix whined deeply, the sound creating vibrations against your lips.

You kept kissing him, your hands roaming on his abs as you pushed them under his shirt, before sliding your hand down and gripping his bulge.

"Y/n." Felix moaned against your lips.

You smirked, leaning back as you unbuckled his pants and slowly slid down to your knees between his legs.

Felix gasped in shock, hands flying to grab your shoulders instantly.

"What are you doing?!"

"Showing you my appreciation." you kept smirking.

"Bubby please, you don't have to do that. I don't want you to kneel if it's uncomfortable or painful."

"Felix. I'm pregnant, not made of glass." you chuckled as you palmed him and you could see him losing his resolve as he melted under your touch.

"F-fine but if it's too much, stop any time. Don't think you have to do that to appreciate me." he gave you a small smirk as he cupped your chin. "It's enough when you lay all pretty for me and let me worship you." he added and you almost moaned out loud as your pussy clenched, slick gathering on your already soaked panties.

"I know but I wanna worship you too." you said, your voice becoming raspy from arousal.

"I won't stop you." he snickered as he lifted his hips so you could strip him.

You licked your lips at the sight of his cock, hooking your arms under his thighs as you brought him closer to the edge of the couch. Felix squealed from the strength you pulled him with, his cock twitching when your breath hit the leaky tip.

You leaned in closer as you wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, your tongue on his slit, catching the beads of precum and savoring the salty taste of him. Felix held onto the the edge of the couch, nails digging into the material as you swirled your tongue around his tip before wrapping your lips around him. He groaned, his eyes full of lust as he looked down at you and you kept your eyes on him, taking more of his length in and enjoying the feeling of his hardness on your tongue.

Felix was holding back, you saw the way he was biting on his lip, his breaths ragged as he fisted at the couch cover. You slid down more, bobbing your head up and down slowly as you reached out to grab his hand. You placed his hand on your head as you moaned around him, encouraging him to relax and enjoy.

He let out a moan as he gripped your hair, your eyes fluttering shut as you sped up on his cock, fondling his sensitive balls with your hand.

"Mm, y/n." Felix groaned and you looked up at him. His was was flushed, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, his lips swollen because he was biting on them the entire time. Your pussy clenched at the sight of him as you continued sucking on him, determinded to make him cum in your mouth.

"Oh my god, bubby!" Felix exclaimed, his hips moving up on their own accord, his legs shaking as you bobbed your head up and down faster. He pulled on your hair making you moan around him and you gripped his balls, massaging them while your tongue swiped over the vein on his pretty cock.

"I-I'm gonna cum!" he tried to pry you off but you swatted his hand away, your brows furrowed as you whined, sliding down until your nose was buried in his pubes, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Shit!" Felix twitched, groaning loudly as he spilled his hot seed down your throat and you swallowed every single drop.

You leaned back, releasing his dick with a pop and pressing a little kiss on the tip as you caressed his thighs.

"Give me a sec." he leaned back on the couch, breathing hard and squeezing his eyes shut a few times in an attempt to come to his senses.

"You okay?" you giggled.

"Ruined. But perfect. Thank you for that." he sat up, grabbing your face and caressing your cheeks.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he added and you chuckled.

"I know. Now help me get up." you said and he gasped, quickly scrambling to stand up.

"Are your knees okay?" Felix panicked immediately and you smiled at him.

"They're fine, the rug is soft." you answered and he let out a breath.

"Good. Now, let's go to our room so I can return the favor." he smirked.

"We should buy some baby stuff soon." Felix said as he caressed you. You were lying on your side, the only comfortable position now, a pillow between your knees as Felix spooned you.

"Mhm. Maybe we could go shopping tomorrow."

"Yes. I was thinking... We can make the guest room into a baby room." he said, pressing a kiss to your neck.

You turned slightly to look at him, your heart fluttering.

"Really? You would do that?" you asked, your eyes teary instantly.

"I would do anything for you and your baby." he whispered with a sweet smile on his face.

"Our baby." you whispered back and his eyes widened for a moment before he chuckled happily.

"I love you so much, y/n." he kissed you gently.

"And I love you, baby." he added, sliding down to kiss your belly as you giggled.

"We love you too, Lixie."

Entering your third trimester, you were a mess. The mood swings were strong and you felt so emotional all of the time and that coupled with the pain in your body made you cry one afternoon while Felix was at work.

You kept thinking about him and how sweet he was to you, how much he loved you and how he always put you and your baby first. You thought about your daughter and how she will be in your arms soon, your mind spinning with negative thoughts of what could go wrong an if you'll even be able to handle this.

"I'm home!" you heard Felix come in after some time but you didn't want to move.

"Bubby?" Felix searched for you, he heard sniffles coming from your room and his heart squeezed inside his chest.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he approached you cautiously as you looked up at him all teary-eyed.

"I'm scared." you whispered and he was by your side instantly. You sat up and he wrapped his arms around you, soothing you as he caressed your hair.

"I don't know if I will be able to do this. If I'm fit to be a mom. Like what if she doesn't love me?" you whimpered and Felix looked at you, softly wiping your tears away.

"Of course she will love you, you're her mommy. And you will be the best mommy ever, I'm not just saying that because I love you, it's a fact."

"I don't deserve you." you cried harder and Felix shushed you immediately.

"Yes you do, bubby. We were made for each other. I don't even want to imagine my life without you. I've wanted this for so long, to be with you and to be able to call you mine. I've always dreamed of having a family with you and maybe this isn't the most regular way to start one but you know I love her like she is my own daughter." Felix said, his hands on your belly. "Oh, she's kicking."

"Yes, into my ribs." you said, both of you chuckling then. "You really mean all that?"

Felix smiled suddenly, sliding down to his knee and you gasped as your eyes widened.

"Lixie, what are you doing?" your heart started beating fast.

"This is not how I wanted to do it, I wanted to make it romantic with a ring and all." he started. "But, I can't wait anymore. I know we started dating only a few months ago but I've loved you since the day I laid eyes on you and maybe even before, in some other life. So, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?"

Your heart skipped a beat as fresh tears slid down your cheeks.

"Oh, Lixie." you grabbed at him. "Yes, a million times yes!" you said and he laughed happily, his eyes filled with tears too.

"I love you." you said in between the sweet kisses he showered you with.

"I love you, bubby."

"I just feel bad sometimes, you're doing all this for me and I'm not even working or doing anything to help out." you said and Felix scoffed.

"Working while pregnant? Not on my watch, bubby. You need to rest and focus on our baby. I will do everything else, I enjoy it so don't worry about not helping because the only thing I need is your love. As cheesy as this sounds, it gives me wings and nothing is hard to do when I know you appreciate it." Felix pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I'm going to cry again." you sniffled, grabbing at his shirt.

"If it's happy tears, I've done well."

You decided not to wait anymore and get married as soon as possible, you had no doubts whatsoever in your mind, you knew that Felix was your person just how he was sure that the two of you were soulmates. You had a small wedding with just your family and close friends, keeping it simple due to your pregnancy.

"You look beautiful today." Felix said as soon as you got home after a little celebratory dinner.

"You tell me that every day." you chuckled, plopping down on the couch, making Felix laugh at your cuteness.

He kneeled to help you take your shoes off.

"Are your feet in pain?" he asked and you nodded with a pout. "Don't worry, bubby. I'll give you a massage."

"Come here for a sec." you waved your hand and he stood up before plopping down next to you.

"What's up?" Felix looked at you, a contemplative look on your face and a small smile spreading on your lips.

"I just need a minute to process that we are married now." you said and he chuckled, his hand finding yours, fingers entwined.

"Suits you well. To be Mrs Lee Felix." he smirked, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss into your skin.

"Don't say it like that." you whined.

"Why?" he chuckled.

"Because I'm already out of my head horny for you." you looked at him. "Hubby." you smirked and he sputtered.

"Let's just go to our room." he wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh.

"Help me up." you reached your hands towards him and he grabbed them, lifting you and leading you to your room.

Felix helped you strip before he laid you down, his eyes raking all over your body as he took you in.

"I'm gonna worship you for the rest of my life, wifey." he said as he stripped and kneeled between your legs.

"Me too." your breath hitched as soon as he put his hands on you, running them up and down your inner thighs, coaxing you to spread your legs more. His hand slid up to your core, thumb brushing against your puffy clit, making you whimper.

He slid his fingertips on your wet pussy, leaning down to kiss and lick at your nipples.

"Felix." you moaned, hands tangling in his hair, gripping him to ground yourself.

He grunted around your nipple and started sucking on it harder, slowly pushing his fingers iniside you.

"L-Lixie. Can we change the position?" you stopped him and he lifted up immediately with a smile.

"Anything to make you more comfortable, bubby."

You slowly turned on all fours, the only position that was pleasant lately and Felix ran his hands on your back.

"You okay, love?" he asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"Mhm." you leaned back into him, his cock brushing against your skin and twitching.

"Someone's eager." Felix smirked behind you, grabbing handfuls of your ass.

"Stop messing around, I'm horny." you whined, your pussy dripping with arousal. He never answered so you were about to turn around but then you felt the tip of his cock on your wet lips.

"Mm." you melted into the bed as he filled you up slowly.

"Like this, bubby?" Felix teased, dragging his cock inside you slowly, one hand on your hip and the other on your back.

"Harder." you said breathlessly.

"Harder, hm?" he gripped your ass, but continued moving his hips slowly.

"Please!" you cried out and he leaned over you to whisper in your ear.

"As you wish." his breath tickled and before you could gather your senses Felix gripped your hips and set a relentless pace, shaking your entire body as his hips slapped into you.

"Oh my god." you gasped, grabbing at the bedsheets while he fucked you into tomorrow.

"My sweet wife." Felix grunted, giving you a little slap on your ass and making your pussy clench.

"I'll give you another baby, you know?" he leaned in to whisper in your ear again, the tone of his voice even lower than usually.

"Ah, yes!" you groaned as he tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled.

"You want that?" his other hand grabbed at your breast, squeezing it harshly.

"Y-yes! Yes!" your mind was foggy and all you could do was agree as you came around him, your pussy gripping his cock.

"You'll be mine forever." Felix practically growled while he gripped at you, fucking you even harder as he chased his high.

"Forever. My husband." you moaned and Felix snapped, whimpering in your ear as he pushed deep inside you, filling you up with his warm cum.

He continued fucking into your slowly as he rode his orgasm, making you cum once again.

When he pulled out you laid on your side with him behind you, and he propped himself on his elbow, peering down at you.

"Are you okay?" he caressed you face as you smiled at him.

"Perfect." Felix kissed you and the two of you cuddled for some time before you decided to clean up.

"You're really thinking about another baby already?" you chuckled when you laid back in bed to sleep and Felix's face became red as he sputtered.

"W-well I want to have a family with you." he said sheepishly and you melted. "Plus, you're so cute when your pregnant." he added with a smirk and you smacked his arm.

"Shut up."

Your baby's arrival was nearing and Felix was doting on you until the end. He cooked for you, gave you massages, prepared you baths, he did everything he could to make this exhausting time as comfortable as it can be.

You had fun together, watching movies and playing videogames from the comfort of your home. Felix wanted you to be happy and feel good about yourself.

He even painted and built the baby's room together with some friends who helped him out and when it was done he proudly showed off his handiwork. You started crying immediately as you were touched and Felix was there to comfort you.

"This is wonderful, Lixie. I love you." you sobbed.

"Love you the most, bubby." he kissed your tears away, like he always did.

"God, I want this baby out of me. I can't do this anymore." you whined one day, close to your due date. Everything was ready, your overnight bag, the baby's room and of course Felix, who was buzzing constantly.

"You know sex can induce labor." he smirked at you while you laid on bed together and you threw a pillow at him.

"Anything to get into my panties, hm?"

"What? I just wanna love on my beautiful wife." he looked at you with a smug smile.

"Beautiful?" you scoffed. "I look like a whale."

"A very sexy and alluring whale." Felix said with a serious face and you gasped before bursting out into laughter.

"You're dumb." you nudged him with your foot and he slid closer to you.

"Dumb in love." he smirked as you rolled your eyes at him.

He grabbed your hands in his gently, staring at you adoringly.

The vibe in the room shifted as Felix started kissing your knuckles slowly, while keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

"You were serious about fucking?" you chuckled.

"Not fucking. Making love to my wife." he smirked as he leaned up to kiss you.

"Cheesy." you chuckled against his lips.

"Only if you're okay with it. If not I will leave you alone. Might cry a little but I'll be fine." he pouted and you giggled.

"I'm okay with it. Just be quick, I wanna nap soon." you said, making Felix laugh.

It was cute, every day spent with you in a domestic setting made his heart overflow with happiness. He had fantasized about being yours for the longest time, never knowing just how happy he would be.

You were happy too, happiest you've ever been. Even though you still had doubts and fears about being a mom, everything was easier with Felix by your side. He gave you the right amount of comfort and support, he loved you more than anyone ever had before.

All the shitty things you went through, your strained relationship with your parents, your horrible ex, the sadness that existed inside you was now exchanged for a happiness you couldn't express in words.

Felix was sitting in your room, right in the middle of a game with his friends when you appeared on the doorstep.

"Felix." you said.

"Yeah, bubby? I'll be done in a minute." he didn't turn around, too concentrated on his screen.

"You gotta be done now. My water just broke."

With that, Felix's head snapped in your direction, his eyes widened as he scrambled to get up.

"Guys, gotta go. About to become a daddy." he quickly said into the mic before running to you.

"I'll grab your bag." he said, his voice shaking in panic as you started to feel the pain.

Felix drove to the hospital quickly, probably running over a few red lights.

"I can't do this!" you screamed as soon as you were situated in the hospital.

"Yes, you can bubby! Just hold my hand, okay? Break my fingers if you need to." Felix tried to be encouraging but you gave him a look.

"I'll break more than just your fingers." you threatened before screaming in agony.

Felix screamed with you, mostly because you were actually crushing his hand.

When it was time to push, Felix nearly fainted multiple times, especially when he leaned in to see the baby's head coming out.

"Oh my god." he squealed, the nurses giving him a look as you almost pulled his arm off by yanking him away from the sight.

"Stop looking." you groaned, not wanting him to pass out for real.

Felix concentrated on encouraging you as much as he could and before long, the nurse finally placed your daughter in your arms.

The feelings swirling within you couldn't be explained in mere words as you stared at the life you had created.

"Wow, she's beautiful. She looks just like you." Felix's eyes were wide as he stared at her, his heart swelling inside his chest.

"You wanna hold her?" you asked and Felix swallowed before nodding a little.

"She's so tiny, I'm afraid I'll break her." he gasped when he took her in his arms.

"You won't." you smiled at the sight, Felix holding your daughter and looking at her with so much adoration in his eyes.

You couldn't wait to go home and start your new life, just the three of you, your own little family.

The adjusment was hard at first, everything felt surreal and the time was going by too quickly. Your daughter was already almost 5 months old and you were wondering how the hell did all that time pass.

Felix was the most helpful husband you could ask for, everything he promised he'd do weren't just empty words and you were eternally grateful to have him.

One afternoon as you put your daughter into her crib for a nap, a knock came on the door.

Felix was in the living room and he stood up to open it just as you walked in. Both you and Felix were shocked to see your ex boyfriend standing there. You weren't expecting to see him ever again, an uneasy feeling spreading all over your body as your feet got stuck in the floor.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Felix was fuming immediately.

"I- I realized I was wrong. I want to have a family with you, y/n. I've been miserable since you left." he craned his neck trying to look at you but Felix stepped in, standing straight in front of your ex.

"It's a little late for that, buddy." Felix showed the guy his wedding ring with a smirk on his face and your ex gasped.

"You got married? To him?" he scoffed suddenly.

"I suggest you leave now." Felix ignored him as you stood there, still unsure of what to do or say.

"What a slut you are." your ex smirked and Felix snapped, quickly manhandling the bastard down to his knees as he twisted his arm back and placed his foot on your ex's back.

He yelped as you gasped, never seeing Felix this mad.

"Don't talk about her like that, scum. You never deserved her. If I ever see you anywhere near my wife or my baby I will fucking kill you." Felix growled, pressing his foot harder into his back.

"Do you understand?" he pulled on his arm, almost popping it out of place as your ex moaned in pain.

"I understand." he said through gritted teeth.

"Do you really?"

"Felix, it's okay." you intervened, not wanting him to go too far.

"I understand, alright!" your ex yelled annoyingly and Felix finally let him go as he scrambled to get up.

"Fuck the both of you." he spat before leaving and Felix watched him drive away before he turned to you, his expression softening.

"You okay?" he asked after closing and locking the door.

"God, that was so hot." you threw your arms around his neck and Felix's eyes widened as he chuckled.

"Really?" he asked and you let out a laugh as he circled his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body.

"Mhm. My sexy husband." you wiggled your eyebrows as he blushed.

"Does the sexy husband get a reward from his beautiful wife?" he smirked.

"Why of course." you chuckled, leading him to your room.

"Are you sure? We haven't since- you know. I don't wanna hurt you." Felix shook his head quickly.

"I know you'll be gentle." you said, caressing his face and tracing his pretty freckles with your fingertips.

Felix smiled softly at you, leaning in to kiss you sweetly.

"We have only while she naps though." you said as the both of your started stripping.

"Okay quick but gentle." Felix nodded, making you laugh.

You were about to strip completely, when you stopped, biting on your lip.

"What's wrong?" your husband came up to you, his hands running up and down soothingly on your arms.

"My body is completely changed. And well, it could get messy."

"I like messy." Felix smirked and you shook your head with a smile. "You have no reason to be insecure with me. I love you even more than I did before. I admire you so much, you're my everything y/n. And you'll always be sexy to me."

"Felix." your lips trembled as your eyes filled with tears but he was quick to kiss them away. "I love you so much." you breathed out between kisses as his hands traveled under your shirt before he pulled it off.

The way he looked at you erased any insecurity in your mind, Felix was mesmerized, his eyes full of love and lust.

"Lay down for me." he said quietly and you smirked.

"No, I wanna be on top."

"Oh." Felix's cock twitched, straining against his boxers painfully. "Whatever you want, bubby." he licked his lips, no thoughts behind his eyes whatsoever as he kept staring at your full tits.

You pushed him down on the bed, stripping him out of his underwear so you could have all of him on display for you to play with.

You crashed your lips into his before kissing his jaw and his neck, your lips traveling on his skin, touching every precious freckle. Your nipples kept brushing against him and Felix whined, pushing his cock up towards you.

His hand flew to the back of your neck as he brought your face to his, kissing you again.

"Ah!" he groaned when your fingers wrapped around his length, giving him a few pumps as you observed his face, twisted in pleasure.

You hovered over him and he gasped.

"You're so good to me, bubby. I'm so lucky to have you." he whimpered as you ran his tip on your wet cunt.

"I'm the one who's lucky. I get to use this cock whenever I want." you smirked as you pushed the tip between your folds.

"Oh my god." Felix groaned, pushing up towards your heat. "Yes, yes, use me whenever you want!"

You slowly slid down on him and sat still, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you after some time. Felix kept staring at your tits and you smirked.

"You want these?" you grabbed them gently, jiggling them a little and you felt him twitch inside you.

"P-please. Can I- can I taste it?" he gave you his puppy eyes and you clenched at the thought.

"You wanna taste my milk?" you asked and Felix panicked.

"N-no, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that! I'm sorry if that's weird, you totally don't have to." he sat up a little, his cock brushing against your sweet spot.

"I want you to." you said and he stared at you, his eyes wide.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Come on. Wrap your lips around it." you leaned over him, your breasts in his face and he whined as you dripped around his cock, slowly moving your hips in circles.

"Y/n." Felix moaned before giving your nipple a few kitten licks then wrapping his lips around it.

You gasped as he started sucking greedily, the taste of your sweet milk making him become rock hard inside you. Felix moaned as he swallowed, grabbing at your breast and squeezing it.

"L-Lixie!" you moaned loudly as he flipped you over, fucking into you, his hands on your breasts and lips around your nipple, drinking from you.

He couldn't get enough, fucking you with a semi-fast pace as he kept sucking on your tits. You felt so aroused, your body sensitive and you came, squirting around his cock.

"Fuck, bubby!" Felix licked at his lips, his eyes rolling back as he pulled out, jerking his cock until he came, ropes of white cum landing on your tummy and chest. You pouted at him, grabbing at his arm.

"Why didn't you finish inside?"

"I had to pull out or I'd get you pregnant again." he groaned and you giggled, biting on your lip.

"So what?"

"Baby, don't tempt me." Felix whined and you chuckled. "You should take some time to heal."

"I love that you're so caring but sometimes I wish you were just a little bit inconsiderate." you teased as he brought you into his chest, cuddling with you.

Felix laughed, the sound shaking your body as he held you close.

"Okay, I'll be a bad boy next time and forget to pull out." he smirked.

"Mhm." you smirked back and leaned in to kiss just as your daughter started crying.

"She's awake and hungry." you sat up and Felix kissed your shoulder before leaning his chin on it.

"I might be hungry for something sweet later too." he smirked and you smacked him as he laughed.

"I'm sure you will be."

Fall came around and with it all of the pretty colors had painted the leaves, it was your and Felix's favorite sight to see so you decided to go on a little stroll to the park with your daughter.

Felix pushed the stroller as you held onto his arm, taking in the scenery around you and the fresh air smelling of rain about to fall.

"What are you thinking about?" Felix asked.

"You. How happy we are." you smiled as you looked at him.

"I'm so happy." he smiled back sweetly and your daughter fussed a little.

"She's growing so quickly." you sighed wistfully and Felix nodded.

"She is. We can always make another baby." he added and you chuckled.

"I'd love that."

Later that afternoon, the rain poured outside as you sat under a warm cozy blanket with your loving husband and your sweet daughter, safe from any harm. You couldn't imagine a better life than this.

And it was all thanks to Felix loving you and making you love yourself again as the scars on your heart healed one by one.

~taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @halfwinterhalfuniverse

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quarterlifekitty · 21 hours ago

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Birthday presents:

Gaz plans out an entire day. From the moment you wake up to when you go to bed. Doing all of your favorite things, going to your favorite places, punctuated by snacks and meals at your favorite restaurants and cafes. And you get a teddy bear, that’s the rule. Every major gift occasion must come with a teddy bear.

Soap buys you something you had no idea you needed. Something you end up using every day. Something perfect. And on top of that, he makes you in insanely complex card. He’s one of those freaks who feel down the card making rabbit hole, so now he has a die cutter, embossing folders, about a million stamps and colors of ink, embossing powder in every color, etc.

Ghost becomes your personal chef for the day. Literally anything you want. As long as it doesn’t contain anything endangered, he will cook it. And he’ll take you with him to get all the ingredients— have a nice drive, buy you all your special snacks you can’t get at your usual store. He does require that if you want a stew or slow cooked meal, or something with marinade, you do have to notify him 24 hours in advance. He also gets you a children’s birthday card and crosses out the number on it with marker and writes your age. “Congratulations birthday girl, you’re 6 25!”

Price gets you a new charm for your charm bracelet, and a nice classy piece of jewelry. Something simple, beautiful, and personal. Engraved, of course. And a beautiful cake from the nicest bakery you know— even if it’s in another country (Nik owes him).

König gets you, first of all, an enormous assortment of chocolate. I think he takes a lot of pride in the quality of Austrian and German chocolate. Probably also commissions a custom medallion from his favored chocolatier. Besides that, he plans a getaway. Somewhere you can go and just not be bothered for a week or so. He often feels guilty about how much time you spend apart, so he takes every opportunity to try to make it up.

Nikolai just gives you a good old fashioned shopping spree. Anything for his gorgeous darling malýshka. And in any country you want as long as it has non-hostile airspace. You really can go shopping in Milan, Paris, and New York City in the same day if you want. That’s what you get for dating a pilot!

Rudy gets you the nicest version whatever it is that you use. If you like nail polish or lipstick, he’ll get you Charlotte Tillbury. If you like silver (in jewelry or houseware) he’ll get Tiffany. If you like pewter he’ll get Royal Selangor. It’s always something very nicely made and/or something that will last a very long time.

Nikto will get you something impossibly sentimental. Say, for example, that you lamented to him about your favorite childhood stuffed animal that had been lost when you’d had a small house fire, or when you’d cut ties with your family. You will wake up on your birthday to that exact make and model of stuffed animal, no longer how long ago you lost it, doesn’t matter if it’s no longer produced. He will perform minor miracles for you.

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bruhstories · 3 days ago

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Bet I

p.2 here

summary: in-ho got a cat, and he needs a cat sitter while he is away on his business trip. who knew that meeting you would turn into a bet, a philosophy of what is moral and what is not?

pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader

warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader's background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, few mentions of Y/N (again, for plot purposes), pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent

w/c: 2.2k

a/n: i have no idea how many chapters this will have, but i'm trying to write each chapter for each day of the games. it'll all make sense at the end lol. i tried to do as much research about seoul and south korea in general, so please be gentle! i'm just an eastern european gal

tagging: @full-sunnies @xodilfluvr

In-ho got a cat — a green-eyed, silver-tipped Korat he named Eunjoo. He thought about getting a dog, but dogs were high-maintenance, loyal and loving, and his job didn't allow him a loving pet. It didn't allow him to get attached to humans or animals. But Eunjoo was aloof and independent, and only rubbed against his leg when she wanted food. She refused to be handled and rarely played with the toys In-ho got her, but the cat was a necessary soul in his empty penthouse. It still wasn't enough to fill the hole in his blackened heart, but it was better than coming home to nothing and no one.

Trouble came when In-ho had to leave for eight days for the 32nd Squid Game. He quite obviously couldn't bring Eunjoo with him, and he couldn't let her starve, either. Not only that, but her litter boxes had to be cleaned regularly, and she needed fresh water daily, which left him with only one option — getting a cat sitter, as stupid as that sounded. In-ho felt ridiculous typing the post on a website for dog-walkers and pet sitters, but he did it nonetheless.

Businessman going on an eight day trip. In need of an experienced person to do home visits twice a day for my Eunjoo. 30,000 won per day. Based in Gangnam-gu, Seoul.

He attached a picture of the cat along with his email, and waited. There was enough time to select a sitter before he left, and he browsed several profiles of pet sitters. Most of them had fantastic reviews, but asked for more money. Typical, In-ho thought. How typical for people to ask for more than necessary. It wasn't as though he wasn't willing to pay more — he had enough money, and would gladly spend it on Eunjoo — but it was the greed that disgusted him. The audacity to ask for 70,000 won a day to feed a cat and change her water was insane.

In-ho closed his laptop and left it on his coffee table in the living room, then walked into the kitchen to feed Eunjoo. She came from her hideout at the sound of a can opening, cautious of her surroundings, then rubbed her head against In-ho's leg, patiently waiting for her food. The cat didn't immediately eat. Instead, Eunjoo waited for her owner to sit down and have his dinner, and the corners of his mouth turned into a half-smile. Better than most people, In-ho thought. She wasn't greedy, she was understanding in ways some humans couldn't be. And so, he reheated yesterday's bulgogi and sat down with a side of freshly cooked rice. Only then did Eunjoo eat her dinner, checking on him from time to time to make sure he was also eating.

Ding!

His phone lit up with a notification. In-ho unlocked it and opened the email he had just received from a pet sitter.

Good evening, sir! My name is Y/L/N Y/N and I would like to meet Eunjoo. I live in Guryong Village and can take the bus to Gangnam-gu whenever you need me to, as I am quite flexible with my schedule, but I need to be completely transparent with you. I've only taken care of my cousin's cat over summer, so I am not the experienced sitter you are looking for, but I am asking you to please give me a chance. Have a good evening!

In-ho scoffed at the words on his screen. He was specifically looking for someone with experience, but he appreciated the honesty. It was a rare trait nowadays, and he was a fair man who gave everyone equal chances. It was the root of his job, after all.

Tomorrow morning, 9 o'clock, Bongeunsa-ro 103-gil, across the street from Shinhan Bank. I'll pick you up from downstairs. Don't be late.

The clack of your heels irked you as you hurried down the street from the bus stop to the address provided by the cat owner. It was a sound you weren't used to, but you needed to make a good impression when lacking experience. People all around you were dressed in expensive suits and dresses, clothes you could only dream of wearing, and the cars that swerved across your path, nearly running you over, looked like they cost as much as your house. It wasn't the first time you walked around Gangnam-gu, but it was the first time you spent more than five minutes surrounded by people who lived lavishly while you survived on Samyang Hot Chicken Ramen Stew.

And yet, you wouldn't trade your instant noodles for samgyeopsal or bossam if it meant selling your soul. Because that was the price to pay for riches and luxury, wasn't it? No, you would make ends meet somehow and live an honest life without becoming a coldhearted monster, just like your father taught you.

You checked that the address in the email matched your location, and waited for someone to talk to you, unsure how they would even recognise you. Although, on second thought, the thin, flimsy cotton of your dress and loose threads around the hem were a dead giveaway that you didn't belong in Gangnam-gu. You didn’t belong amongst the rich.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N?"

Turning on your heels, you were met by the darkest eyes you had ever seen, eyes that looked as though they had both witnessed and committed unspeakable atrocities. And yet, there was a strange remorse in them. The man looked around 45 years old but not a single gray hair on his head, which was ironic, because you probably had more white strands hidden in your locks. Your gaze darted down at his extended hand, and you shook it while bowing down as a sign of respect.

"You must be Mr. Hwang. I can't thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me. I promise I won't let you down if you give me a chance!"

Oh, you were a talker. In-ho had met your kind before, aimlessly sleepwalking through life, serving no greater purpose except for entertaining those who rid the world of gamblers, addicts, beggars and thieves. Not that you were in any of those categories — In-ho didn't know you that well yet — but the way you presented yourself made him think you would have made a suitable player in the game.It was too late to recruit you now. Perhaps next year, if you made it that far.

You followed Mr. Hwang into the elevator, surprised that it wasn't stopping until reaching the last floor of the building, and when the doors opened, they revealed a small hallway with just one apartment. He had no neighbours above or around him, and you couldn’t begin to imagine how lonely it must've been. Surely his wife or girlfriend kept him company, or perhaps he had children — In-ho did look old enough to be your father.

He unlocked the multiple locks on his door — he must have been really rich — and invited you in. For a moment, a split second, you wondered if you had made a mistake coming there. The man could be a serial killer for all you knew, and with almost no neighbours, who would even hear you scream? You heard stories about wealthy people who took pleasure in hurting others. The lack of pictures of a wife or children only strengthened that doubt, but the intrusive thought soon dissipated when, from the corner of your eye, you spotted a silver tail hanging from a dining chair.

Paying no mind to the tall double fridge, or the black U shaped velvet sofa that could fit your entire extended family, or even the view from his floor-to-ceiling windows, you kicked off the uncomfortable heels and got down on all fours, crawling closer to Eunjoo before sitting on the tiled floor with your legs crossed. It caught In-ho completely off guard — unpredictability was something that bothered him. Usually when he brought girls over they would bombard him with a million questions about his job, his car, his clothes, his bank account. You didn't, and it both infuriated and intrigued him. But then again, he brought you there with a different purpose.

"What are you doing exactly?" In-ho circled around you like a hawk, watching you intently.

"I've read that it's better to allow cats to familiarise themselves with people instead of forcing affection onto them." You sat still, chin tilted upwards to look at him with innocence in your eyes. "I may not be experienced, sir, but I did my research."

He wasn't particularly impressed by your research skills, not even when Eunjoo jumped from the chair and walked around you, curious yet apprehensive. One paw hovered above the floor in mid-air, and her tail was lowered, almost touching the ground, as the cat slowly and cautiously approached you, sniffing the hand you extended.

"So, what do you do for a living?" You broke the spell, not on Eunjoo but on In-ho, who was watching you try to befriend his cat. He hadn't realised he had been staring for longer than he should have until you spoke with disinterest in your voice. You didn't really care what his job was.

"Business." He simply said and you chuckled at his response. "Something funny?"

"I'm sorry, I just thought it would be nice to make small talk while we wait for Eunjoo to get comfortable." You shrugged. "But it's fine if you don't want to talk about that, sir."

Sir. It sounded so different coming from you and not one of his subordinates at the facility. In-ho quietly pulled a chair from under the table and sat down, but Eunjoo had finished inspecting you. She lifted her tail, the tip curled — a sign of playfulness — and you scratched her chin.

"Good girl, Eunjoo! I'm sorry, I don't have any treats." You sat up after the cat lost interest in you and hid behind the sofa.

"So you're inexperienced and unprepared." His voice was cold and judgemental and you lowered your head in shame.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I don't have a great financial situation, that's why I need this job. I can water plants and clean the house, I can even do your laundry and iron your shirts, and I don't want any extra money, just the payment for cat sitting." You sounded so desperate it was pathetic. "Please."

The last bit of your sentence was what caught In-ho's attention. No extra money? Who in their right minds wouldn’t charge more for additional services? Were you planning on stealing from him while he was away? Not that it mattered — he'd find you and kill you upon his return from the island if you did. However, he found it to be an interesting game, a bet of sorts. You would win if you were honest for all eight days. He would win if you stole from him and abused his kindness.

"You're hired." In-ho nodded, the look of surprise mixed with gratitude on your face making him feel like some sort of god.

"I swear you won't be disappointed in me, sir. I'll leave the house spotless every day, and I will take good care of Eunjoo!" You nodded eagerly, beaming at him.

"I know you will. She takes breakfast at 7 and dinner at 9, and there is an automatic feeder set at 2 pm for lunch." He explained and you took your phone out to quickly take notes. "Make sure you change her water in the morning and at night, and scoop her litter boxes every time you're here."

"...scoop the poop twice a day. Got it." You mumbled while typing. "Do I give her wet food in the mornings and evenings?"

"Yes, and please check that the automatic feeder is stocked. You will find all her cans and kibble in this cupboard." In-ho walked into the kitchen and showed you where Eunjoo's food was. There was more cat food in that cupboard than you had in your house.

"Perfect. Where is the bin room located?"

"Underground. The code is 456654."

"Thank you, Mr. Hwang! I won't let you down. Oh, I should give you my phone number, right?" You asked, feeling a bit awkward for being so straightforward.

"Whatever would I need your number for?" He almost laughed.

"How else would you see Eunjoo?"

"Right. Forgot about that." In-ho scratched the back of his head. He couldn't exactly tell you that there were cameras everywhere in his house.

"Two more questions. Am I allowed to play music or movies on your TV and could I take a shower after cleaning? I'm bringing spare clothes and my own towel and soap."

"Yes, of course you can. Please help yourself to anything you need. I trust you'll figure out how the coffee machine or dishwasher work." He nodded.

"Yeah, I'll figure it out." You lied. You had never used a dishwasher before.

"Great. I leave in three days. Please be here the day after my departure. Here's the spare key."

"Thank you, sir!" You bowed and walked to the door to put your shoes back on. "Good luck on your trip!"

"Thank you, miss. Good luck to you, too."

The bet was placed, the game was on.

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fl3shm4id3n · 1 day ago

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ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝. 𝐀𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴅᴏᴊᴀ ᴄᴀᴛ - ᴍᴀꜱᴄ (ꜰᴛ. ᴛᴇᴇᴢᴏ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴅᴏᴡɴ)

Tw: Squid Game 2 SPOILERS, Smut, toxic relationship, overthinking, talks about death, blood, swearing, morning after kinda, kissing/making out, eating out, bathroom sex, somewhat mirror sex, unprotected sex (if you're gonna get silly, wrap your willy), titty grabbing/nipple pinching, reader has the implant, pussy drunk/high? Thanos.

A/n: This is gonna be the final part of the mini series :(, but I'ma write more later. (Unless I should be a fourth part where Thanos dies and Reader gets screwed by Nam Gyu :P). P.S. Sorry that it's short :(

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

That day you woke up due to that loud song that played and lights on. The song was already getting on your nerves. You had been lying on your left side. You felt something heavy on your waist and a warm presence pressed behind you. Slowly you opened your eyes and saw what it was. It was Thanos arm, he was still sleep next to you. It didn't bother you or think much of it, until you moved and felt something off under the covers. You lifted the blanket up, then saw that your pants and panties were off. Shit! You thought, you moved Thanos arm away from your waist, making him groan in his sleep and went under the thin cover. Quickly you put on your panties and pants on as fast as you could before anyone could notice you.

You felt how someone had lifted your blanket, right as you pulled your pants up to your waist. It was Thanos with a cocky smirk. "Morning beautiful." He said, he then got under the blanket with you. Proceeding to kiss on the lips. Hungrily and messy. It took you by surprise but you kissed him back. Well, attempted to kiss him back. But his tongue was already rubbing against yours. Mixing your saliva together like many times. He was like an animal, a rabbit possessed by his heat. You then felt how his hand quickly went under your sweater and shirt, running his hand through your skin until he reached your breast. Giving it a good squeeze, making you gasp around his lips.

"Thanos!" you said, as you pulled away from his lip. That didn't stop him. He went straight to your neck, kissing and nibbling, still grabbing and squeeze your breast. You moaned softly and quietly. "Thanos! We're gonna get caught!" You tried to warn. "Who care at this point. Everyone should know by now that you're mine." He teasingly growled against your ear, as he continued to bite and kiss, while squeezing your breast. Proceeding to pinch your erect nipple. You couldn't help but enjoy it. This turned you on in many ways, specially the idea of getting caught in the moment. It's never truly happen, but the adrenaline kicked in every time you and Thanos would perform those acts in a public place.

"HAYO!" Someone yelled as they pulled away the blanket from both you and Thanos. You hid your face against Thanos shoulder, not wanting to face the person who had just done that. "Oh? Getting down and dirty early in the morning?" It was Nam Gyu, who asked so mockingly. Thanos glared at his friend, obviously pissed by the interruption done by his underling. "Do you mind ass face?" Thanos told him annoyed, but Nam Gyu simply laughed. "I was just fucking withya bro. I'll let ya'll continue, unless you let me watch." He said, while wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. You then moved away from Thanos and got up. "I have to go to the bathroom, before the game. I'll back." You said, walking away from your bed to go to the bath. As the two of them watch you leave. Thanos then looked at his friend and kicked his leg. "Nice going asshole." He hissed at him, while Nam Gyu just rolled his eyes.

Once again, you were in the bathroom. Taking care of business, once done. You went over and washed your hands. When you finished, you splashed the cold water onto your face and rubbed your eyes a bit. To wake up. You weren't a huge morning person, but you've managed to get up and start your day. You wished you could sleep more, but you couldn't. As soon as you get home, you'll lay in bed for the rest of the week, if not month. You were so tired. These games were stressing you the fuck out.

Then the door opened, of course. It was the one and only Thanos that had come in. Who had a goofy smile on his face. "Hey babygirl." He said, walking over and leaned his body against the minty green tiles, next to the pink sink that you had been washing your hands and face on. "How do they keep letting you in here, this is the girl's bathroom." You reminded him. "Pfft, you think they care? I doubt it, plus." He paused, walking over to you. Now standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him. Your back was pressed against his muscular chest. "I wanted to finish what we started." He whispered next to your right ear. Making a shiver run down your spine.

You let out a breathy sigh. "You're like a rabbit in heat, I swear." You commented, Thanos only smirked, then he turned you around to face you. "Last time I remembered, your favorite animals are rabbits." He said, while looking down at you, deep into your eyes. You weren't sure if he was high or not. You didn't care at this point. "Well, you're right." You responded, you felt how Thanos hand gently grabbed your chin and cheeks, softly squeezing them together, making your lips pout. He then leaned forward and kissed your lips. It was a hard yet soft kiss. You kissed him back. The kiss was possessive yet loving. It felt like the first time you and him kissed. Very passionate and loving.

As you both kissed, you ran your hands up his shirt. Your fingers touching and caressing his fit body. You caressed his ribs, then your fingers and hands moved to his back. Feeling his strong back, you could still feel the scratches from last night and the previous time. He then pulled away from the kiss, leaving your breathless like many times before. He unzipped and took off his jacket, then came his shirt. You couldn't help but stare at his chest and abs, they look exactly the same. Without a warning, Thanos picked you up and sat you down onto on the edge of the pink sink. He processed to take off your white vans off, then followed by your pants and panties. Then spread your legs as he got on his knees.

He smirked, seen how wet you've become already. He loved it. He carefully laid your back onto the mirror while your lower back was slightly touching the faucet. Thanos placed your thighs over his shoulders again, and processed to devour you. You whine and threw your head back against the mirror. Feeling his tongue inside you, hitting almost every spongy surface he could, while his nose rubbed against your now sensitive clit. After a few licks, he pulled away and processed to suck solely on your clit. Making you whine, even louder. You then processed to grind your hips against his mouth. As you began to move, Thanos went back to tongue fucking you.

"Thanos!" You moaned loud enough to make the walls of the bathroom to echo. As Thanos continued his assault, you lifted your shirt up, then popped your breasts out of your bralette. Beginning to squeeze your own breasts, plus pinching your nipples. This brought you back. That one time you went with Thanos to record a music video, you had sex in the dressing room before filming. He had you lying on the vanity, with your back against the the mirror, eating you out like the animal that he was.

You felt your body flinch when you felt him lick the sweet spot inside you. "Awe! Fuck!" You gasped, as you pinched your nipples slightly harder by that electrical like feeling. You were close, he knew you were close. Instead of stopping, he kept going. He snarled and growled like an animal, desperately trying to get you to cum. Your body contorted and arched itself in pleasure. Your breathing quickened, you felt out of breath, your body was heating up and you were over the edge. Not once did Thanos stopped, he just kept going. Licking and sucking your clit non stop. "T-Thanos!" You called out his name, but he didn't stop. Until your orgasm hit your body like a bus, having you seeing stars. You had let out about the loudest of screams, the guard outside probably heard you.

As you recovered from your orgasm, Thanos got up from his somewhat sore knees. He took out his cock, then carefully and easily slipped inside you. Making you moan again, you were still sensitive from a couple minutes ago, but you didn't care. You wanted this, you needed this. Again, he placed your ankles over his shoulders, beginning to thrust slowly yet harshly. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip as he thrusted. He groaned, feeling how you were still tight, after two nights of sex. Your pussy was addicting to him. If you were a drug, he'd have no problem taking you as much as he could.

His pace went faster by the minute, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling him closer as he gripped onto the sink tightly, as is his life depended on it. You gasped when you felt his angry tip hitting your G-spot. "Fuck! I! Love! You!" He growled, as he drooled. "You're the love! Of my fucking! Life!" He claimed as he thrusted even harder, at this point he was plowing into you. He then licked his middle and ring ringer, beginning to rub your clit. Fast, just like his pace. Making you whine and arch your neck backwards. "Fuck! Thanos!" You moaned, screwing your eyes shut. You felt tears welling up in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. Not from sadness but from pleasure.

This felt like your first time all over again, he was your first time. At first you were a bit embarrassed that you were still a virgin at that age, but Thanos? He didn't mind. He made it special. It felt that way, it was that way. Except, instead of doing it in his bedroom, it was this bathroom. As you continued down memory lane, Thanos kissed your lips again, traces of your orgasm still lingered in his tongue. You didn't mind, you kissed him back, slowly going weak by each thrust. You both continued to kiss, until Thanos came inside you again. Making you both moan against each other's lips. Except, his moan sounded more of a growl like groan than a moan.

You remained frozen, and so did Thanos. Both of you were panting, sweaty and hot. Your hair stuck to your forehead and side of your face. Thanos turned to look at you, giving your sweaty forehead a loving kiss, making you close your eyes. Before leaning his own, sweaty forehead against yours. "I love you." He said, more calmly and out of breath. You responded, breathless. "I love you too." You said, as you panted softly. "No more games." You said, still tired and defeated. "No more games, I promise." H e responded, as he gave you a kiss on the lips. "You better." You finished against his lips. Kissing him back.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ

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notjustjavierpena · 2 days ago

Text

Parents

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Merry belated Christmas from me! I know this is my second Christmas fic this time around but I finally got the courage to write about Wife’s awful parents.

Summary: Javier puts his foot down during Christmas with your toxic family.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Toxic family dynamics, psychological abuse, childhood trauma, Christmas, conflict and confrontation, sobbing, declarations of love, hurt/comfort, body/fat shaming

Word count: 5.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61942318

Parents

You get a call from your parents’ home number a few weeks before Christmas. Your mother and father haven't actually bothered seeing you since your wedding day last year but Lucas is four months old now and there’s suddenly a strange interest from them in being grandparents to your firstborn. Somehow, they talk you into spending Christmas with them and reassure you that they’ll take care of everything as long as you bring their grandson. The whole idea causes a ball of anxiety to settle in your stomach, almost imitating getting hit right in the solar plexus with how much your breath struggles to even out as you tell Javier about it. Your husband agrees reluctantly but not without raising a concerned brow, asking you several times - and with days between each time - if you are absolutely sure.

He even asks you now as he parks the car in your parents’ driveway, looking at you with a serious expression, brows furrowed while you sit stiffly in the passenger seat. You glance towards the front door, trying to act casual as if you’re staring at a wild animal who might pounce if it notices your anxiety. It is an odd feeling you get, staring at your childhood home but feeling more as if it is the scene of a crime. This house is not a memory of warm and fuzzy feelings but rather a place of constant criticism and unjust pain.

Javier says your name softly beside you. On the backseat, Lucas hiccups.

“Do I look okay?” You quickly ask instead of acknowledging the tone of his voice, fixing your hair without changing anything.

“Yeah,” he answers and tries not to comment on your nerves, “You look beautiful, mi amor (my love).”

The call from two weeks ago had your shoulders tensing up before you even answered the phone but the way they had reasoned you into revisiting the place of your hardest years has made your shoulders not come down again.

You sigh gently and unbuckle your seatbelt, “Okay. I can do this for just an afternoon. Let’s get this over with.”

You climb out of the car, Javier following you after carefully unbuckling Lucas and cradling him in one arm while balancing the diaper bag on the other shoulder. You leave his car seat, knowing how much easier it would have been to transport your son inside in it but Lucas has been fussy all night. You really wish he hadn’t because you don’t want to go inside with only half the energy that a good night’s sleep could have provided.

As you ring the doorbell, you take a look at Javier one last time, “Please don’t interfere. I don’t want to make everyone uncomfortable.”

“Baby, are you sure that—“

“Oh, there you are!” Your mother exclaims when she opens the door with a syrupy smile, “We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

“Sorry. Life with a baby and all,” you shake your head with an embarrassed chuckle and try to ignore the tension in your muscles, shrugging your coat off your shoulders to reveal your wine-red button-up and dark skirt.

“Honey, I thought you knew we always dress up a little during the Holidays,” your mother says while glancing at your outfit with veiled disdain, “Where’s that nice blue dress? With the ribbons?”

“This is all that fits me right now, that isn’t maternity clothes,” you answer apologetically at the first jab of many. Beside you, Javier takes a step closer to you without saying anything.

“Anyway! Where’s the little man?” Your mother chirps, already having moved on and looking to Lucas who has started stirring in Javier’s arms. When she gets closer, about to reach out to run a hand over his little head, Lucas immediately starts whimpering as if he is aware of the unpleasantries that his mother has had to endure at the mercy of this woman. He knows the culprits before they’ve even revealed themselves.

“Oh, he’s a little fussy, isn’t he?” She laughs it off and retreats much to your relief, letting Javier bounce your son to make him settle down again. When he quietens down again, you share a glance with your husband who signals that everything is okay. You take a deep breath and let him handle the situation.

“Where’s Dad?” You ask to turn your attention away from your crying child, smoothing out a nonexistent crease in your skirt.

“I think he’s just about to get the turkey out of the oven,” your mother says, wagging a finger in Lucas’ face with a little smile, “Why don’t you go say hi and I talk to my grandson for a moment? Oh, look at you, Lucas! You’re just perfect, aren’t you?”

You reluctantly leave the three of them to head for the kitchen. You can feel each family photograph staring back at you as you walk through the hallway to your destination; a picture of your five-year-old self on a bike but somehow no picture of your graduation ceremony as if it has been decided where things went wrong before you could acknowledge it yourself.

“Hey Dad, smells so good in here,” the kitchen does indeed smell wonderfully as you walk through the door. Your father looks at you over his shoulder, giving you a little smile and you try not to think about how he didn’t bother to come out to greet you.

“Mom and I were wondering if you were ever coming,” he notes while plating pieces of turkey meat. In the hallway, you can hear Javier striking up polite conversation. He’s handling your mother with his usual calmness, and you feel grateful for his presence yet embarrassed that you aren’t strong enough to handle it yourself.

You shrug a little, Javier’s presence giving you the courage to try and mirror said calmness, “Newborns, you know.”

“He’s four months,” he corrects.

“Right, time flies,” you reply with your confidence fading fast, the words coming out in a way that doesn’t quite carry the quick wit that Javier usually loves about you. You touch your arm, standing awkwardly by the counter, “Still figuring it out as we go.”

Your father doesn’t turn around, “Parenting’s not rocket science, you know. Your mother and I managed just fine without all the made-up nonsense you young people talk about these days.”

You jump a little as your mother puts a hand on your shoulder and says your name to get your attention. You look back at her, “Can you set the table? I put the tablecloth ready on the silverware cabinet.”

“Sure, Mom,” you smile, already heading for the dining room to escape from your father’s subtle judgments. You find Javier has already gone, an irrational thought popping into your head of how he has bolted and left you to deal with your mom and dad by yourself.

You glance into the kitchen as you start placing the plates in each of their respective places, “Where’s Javier?”

“He went to get the presents from the car,” your mother replies from the kitchen. You hear her take out a serving bowl from a cabinet.

“Oh, I should go help him wi—“

“He’s your husband, sweetie. Let him handle it. There’s no need to emasculate him like that,” she is suddenly in the doorway, staring you down in a way that makes your hands shake. Her gaze drops to the table and her brows furrow, “You’re using the wrong plates!”

You look up with a racing heartbeat, “What?”

She sighs your name audibly, “These aren’t the Christmas plates. We don’t use regular plates for special occasions. Honestly, I thought you’d know better.”

The words sting and you set down the plates you have been holding in case the littlest twitch will make you drop it onto the floor, “Sorry, Mom.”

“Ah well, now you’ll never forget it,” she jokes without humor in her voice as she opens the door to the china cabinet, pulling out the plates adorned with what you recognize to be hand-painted holly. You shamefully realize you know them from childhood Christmases and that they are exactly where they’ve always been.

Automatically, you gather the wrong plates to make room for the right ones. It’s Christmas, you remind yourself as you do it. It is one day. You can survive one day.

“See? Isn’t this much better?” She says cheerfully when your mistake has been corrected and while you nod, Javier reenters the house.

He joins the two of you, carrying a large gift bag in one hand and holding Lucas on the other arm. You immediately go to take him, doing a careful transfer until you can lay his tiny body against your shoulder while supporting his bottom.

“¿Todo bien? (Everything okay?)” Javier asks quietly when you follow him into the living room where the tree stands. He sets down the bag and tries to act casual, laying out the gifts and waiting for your honest response in the meantime. Apparently, you haven’t been as successful in hiding the distress on your face as you thought you had.

You force a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and Lucas starts whining again. You bounce him gently, “It’s nothing. Just… Christmas stuff.”

Javier glances toward the hallway to the kitchen where your parents’ voices can be heard faintly over the sounds of cooking. His jaw tightens slightly and his mouth becomes a thin line.

“Don’t,” you say as firmly as you can muster because you wish he would, “It’ll only make it worse.”

“Dame un beso (give me a kiss),” he says instead, and you shyly lean in to peck him on the lips. Afterward, he pulls back but only after stroking Lucas’ back, “You’re both doing great, okay? Don’t let them get in your head.”

You are interrupted by your mother’s voice ringing out from the dining room, telling you that dinner is ready. Javier kisses you one last time before reassuring you that everything will be okay and that he is in your corner. You try to smile, tense as you take a seat with Lucas still in your arms.

The Christmas meal begins with polite conversation, your father asking Javier about work and your mother telling you about neighbors that you haven’t spoken to in years. You mostly just speak when spoken to, having decided to focus on your baby as he keeps wriggling in your arms in discomfort. You try to rub his belly, try to make him settle by giving him your attention but still, his tiny face crumbles and he lets out a string of small complaints.

“Maybe we could open presents while he naps?” You suggest hesitantly when your mother has given you enough judgemental advice, “He’s been so fussy all night, and I don’t want him to get more overwhelmed than he—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” your mother says your name with a sigh. You hear Javier’s chair scrape against the floor, almost as if he is about to get up and get ready for a physical altercation.

“Let’s do whatever is easiest for the baby,” your father interrupts, placing a hand on your mother’s wrist. Her annoyance shines through her eyes but she nods with a smile nonetheless.

“Of course,” you hear her grit out, “It’s just… We’d love to spend time with him. We’ve already missed so much, and Luke needs his grandparents.”

“We’ll see,” Javier answers for you.

The dinner continues in mostly silence with turkey being substituted by pie, cutlery clinking against plates, and glasses being lifted and set down again. There’s tension so thick that it can be cut with a knife, your mother glancing at Lucas with a smile before it disappears from her face when she shifts her gaze to your direction.

Mercilessly, she finally speaks, “So, honey, have you thought about when you’ll start losing the baby weight?”

“Mom!” You exclaim in shock, surprised that sound comes out when your throat feels like it is about to close up completely.

In the same manner as one would spit out a drink in shock, Javier’s fork scrapes unpleasantly against his plate, and suddenly, your mother’s name falls from his lips like the sound itself leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth. She looks startled by the interruption, almost like a deer in the headlights of a car, but it doesn’t faze your husband, “My wife looks beautiful and she has just given me - us - the greatest gift which is our son. Let’s not diminish that, shall we?”

You try to feel the weight of Lucas against your chest instead of how you don’t feel safe within this house, with its bruises on the walls and its ghosts of a youth spent walking on eggshells. Lucas’ body is warm, a reminder that this doesn’t matter. He matters.

“I’m focused on taking care of my son right now, Mom,” you reply coolly with your lips resting on the soft hairs on Lucas’ head.

“Right, of course. I didn’t mean anything by it,” your mother argues, clearly flustered, “You know how important it is to stay healthy for the baby.”

“Your mother just wants what’s best for you, honey,” your father intervenes, trying to steer the conversation onto friendlier and safer topics but she has already gotten up from her seat.

“Why don’t I clear the table so we can move into the living room and open presents?” She mumbles, putting on a show by letting her voice waver. She has begun stacking plates before anyone can even say anything, practically fleeing the room and leaving you all looking slightly sheepish. Javier hides the roll of his eyes exceptionally well and he smiles when you catch him.

“I’ll put Lucas down for a nap,” you announce to what is left of the party.

Javier gets up alongside you to help you. He walks upstairs right behind you, a calming presence with the diaper bag in hand as you head for the guest room.

When you close the door behind the three of you, the tension seeps out of your body at having a quiet moment with your boys. The lighting in the room is soft and calming, almost making you want to lie down to nap with your son.

“There we go,” you say as you gently place Lucas on the bed while Javier rummages through the bag for his pacifier. Lucas blinks up at you, his tiny fists balled and his chubby legs kicking excitedly. He lets out a happy gurgle.

“Oh, now you’re happy,” you tease softly and kneel by the bed to rub his tummy, “Picky with who we’re smiling at, are we?”

Javier joins you by the bed and offers Lucas his pacifier. Your son stretches his arms and reaches for his father, letting out a high-pitched giggle around the pacifier. However, as he suckles gently, accompanied by your soft touch that has now moved to his chubby cheeks too, his eyelids start to grow heavy.

When his breaths have slowed, you do whatever you can with the pillows to create a safe space for him to sleep. You create a barrier around him, ensuring as well as possible that he won’t roll over.

“You know, you’d think that they would have set up a crib for him if they’re so desperate to see him,” you murmur bitterly as you adjust the last pillow.

“You sure you want to go back down there?” Javier asks carefully.

“Can you grab the baby monitor?” You ignore his question at first but Javier is already handing you the monitor, ruining your attempt at not addressing the situation further. You sigh and get up from the floor, “I can get through it. If it’ll make them stop pestering me for a visit for a while.”

“I swear, one more word out of her mouth and I’ll open my own,” Javier says with anger simmering just beneath the surface. He drags you into his arms when you stand up again, hears your sigh of relief at being squeezed. It calms your nervous system so effectively that you slump.

“Believe me, I feel like I am going insane,” you whisper into his neck and shoulder, grabbing aimlessly at his strong frame and inhaling his scent. He returns the desperate touch by simply rubbing your back in slow circles.

“Yeah, I don’t know how you stay so calm,” he kisses your temple a few times.

“Trust me, humans can endure a lot when they know there’s a time limit,” you chuckle humorlessly and pull away, “Let’s just do the gift exchange and leave.”

Downstairs, your parents are waiting for you by the tree. The collection of presents is sparse this year due to the short notice but you find it relieving to know that the gift exchange will be over quickly.

Placing the baby monitor on the coffee table, you sit down on the sofa but don’t allow yourself to relax into it. Javier drops down beside you but leans back into his seat, his hand resting casually on your thigh to ground you.

“Let’s get to the gifts. It’ll be nice to end this day on a happy note,” your mother says overly cheerfully, pretending to have forgiven and forgotten all about the situation earlier. She reaches for the first gift under the tree while your father stands ready with a bag for the wrapping paper.

“That’s mine,” Javier tells her with a little smirk in your direction. He holds out his hand until she gives it to him, “To my beautiful wife. Merry Christmas, baby.”

“How thoughtful,” your mother mumbles and sits on the edge of her armchair.

“Javi, I thought we weren’t on gifts this year,” you scold playfully but there’s no seriousness to your voice. You finally smile and this time it is genuine, feeling his gaze on you while you impatiently rip the wrapping.

“I know what I said but I know you’ll love it. It’s more for Lucas anyway,” he informs you shyly.

Inside, you find two pairs of identical fuzzy and comfortable socks with a dinosaur print on them. However, one pair fits Lucas’ tiny feet and the other fits yours. Your whole demeanor changes with the sight of your gift, your face lighting up with a bright smile, “These are so cute!”

“For your cold feet. Thought you could use something cozy while you take care of Luke at home,” he moves his hand to rest just above the small of your back, his palm smoothing over you on top of the fabric of your blouse.

Your parents sit idly by. They stare at the gift with confusion and arrogance, clearly holding their tongue over how ridiculous they find it. Your mother picks at her fingers, “Interesting.”

“Interesting? Aren’t they adorable?” You hold the matching socks up happily, not sure what to expect but not even your mother’s judgmental expression can bring you down right now. To really rub it in, you kiss Javier’s mouth gently in front of them, “Gracias, esposo (Thank you, husband).”

But the happiness is short-lived as your father goes to get the next present from the small pile. He searches for a moment amongst the few there are, deliberately seeking out the present that you have brought them, most likely to be able to leave the room soon due to the obvious tension. He has never been one to intervene.

“You shouldn’t have,” your mother tuts with a small smile as she carefully unwraps it in her lap, her fingers doing everything they can to not tear the paper so she can reuse it.

When the framed picture of Lucas is revealed - a photo taken during an afternoon when he was particularly happy and smiling - her smile develops into a slightly wider one even if it looks against her will. She studies the picture with your father looking over her shoulder.

“We thought you’d like something to remember him by,” you encourage her to say something.

Your mother places the photo on the coffee table, her hands smoothing out the wrapping paper while she talks, “It’s lovely, sweetie. Though I’m sure we’d have more memories if we got to see him more often.”

You tense up beside Javier. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him do the same but he squeezes your hip to tell you that he is right there. Anxiously, you curl your fingers into your skirt but your mother isn’t finished.

“I just don’t understand why you’ve been so distant,” she continues, cold in her tone. “You hardly call, which would be fine but you visit even less than that, and now you’re letting Lucas sleep through his first Christmas. It’s not like you’ve gone back to work, so what is it?”

“Mom, please,” you say quietly but it doesn’t veil the wavering of your words, “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Are you?” She challenges, “Lucas has been fussing all night, hasn’t he? Maybe he’s picking up on your stress.”

You hear Javier say your mother’s name as he had during dinner, low and with warning. At the same moment, the baby monitor crackles with the sound of Lucas’ tiny complaints. The sound pulls you from your seat, your instincts to go to him overriding your desire to defend yourself from further abuse. However, your mother’s voice rings out behind you just as you take your first step.

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, just let him cry a little. You’ll make him clingy if you keep running to him every time he whimpers.”

You stop in your tracks, finally turning around to look her in the eye with your own eyes narrowed. You can see Javier watching you closely while you talk, “Mom, if he cries, he needs me.”

According to you, she has already gone too far but it seems that she cannot stop once she has started, “You know, you really should stop babying him so much. He needs to learn to self-soothe.”

Tears of frustration start to build in your chest and you can feel the muscles of your throat start to tighten as they rise to your eyes, “Jesus Christ, Mom, I’m not going to stop babying my baby.”

Her final blow comes out with a deliberate intention to hurt you, “There you go overthinking again and snapping at your mother. He is whimpering. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how Javier puts up with it. You can be such a bitch when you’re stressed.”

The room falls dead silent and the first tear escapes your eye at the cruel nickname… then a second and then a third until you start to cry silently and hopelessly. You suddenly feel like a teenager again, suffering from forced proximity. Your father opens his mouth but nothing comes out, seemingly not able to figure out how to defend his wife for once. It is the final straw for Javier.

“What did you just say?” He firmly cuts through the silence. He has gotten up from his seat and has stepped in front of you to shield you protectively from your mother’s line of sight. His nostrils flare with anger that might explode into rage at any moment but he keeps his voice steady, “You better not have said what I think you did or I am wondering why you haven’t apologized already.”

Your mother’s eyes widen at the idea of consequences. She splutters, caught off guard, “Apologize? Javier, don’t be ridiculous! I’m her mother—“

Javier laughs dangerously and condescendingly and looks away with a roll of his eyes. He shakes his head, not afraid to let the room know that he thinks she sounds pathetic without even calling her out on it. He crosses his arms over his chest, “You got a hell of a way of showing motherly love then; all you have done is tear her down today.”

“Javier,” your father tries to interject, “Let’s not make this into a scene.”

“No,” Javier turns to him, his jaw muscles flexing slightly underneath his skin with how much anger is flowing through him. The simple word makes your father sit up straighter than before - a testament to Javier’s days in Colombia - but Javier is not done, “You don’t get to lecture me about making a scene. Not after sitting there and letting this happen. She is your daughter.”

When your father has shut his mouth, looking uncomfortable by his defeat while he leans back into his seat with no intention to follow up on his words, Javier’s fury settles on your mother once more, “What’s your goal here, exactly?”

You’re aware that it isn’t just a simple few tears falling from your eyes anymore but rather a silent stream that has your face puffy and sensitive. It is accompanied by grief over your younger self not having had someone like Javier in her corner. You sniffle audibly, feeling as if you have been punched in the gut with how much it hurts and humiliates you to sit idly by. Your mother catches a glimpse of you behind your husband but it doesn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever.

“There’s no secret agenda here, for God’s sake. I didn’t mean anything by it,” she sneers, trying to keep her demeanor straight despite the humiliation of getting called out being evident on her face.

“Yes, you did,” Javier argues immediately and fiercely, pointing his index finger at her in an accusing manner, “You knew exactly what you were saying. You wanted her to hurt. Well congratulations, you’ve succeeded. Unfortunately, your daughter is a lot nicer than me and handled your words with a lot more grace than you deserve. I will not be doing the same thing.”

Your mother’s composure falters. She says your father’s name helplessly but he looks at her with tired eyes, full of quiet disappointment. Even if he is absent and passive like always, his refusal to intervene further is a sign that he would never go as far as his wife has just done. He shakes his head in disapproval, “Why’d you do it? We were having such a nice time too.”

She gapes at your father while his gaze drops to his lap, shrinking herself slightly at the realization that she is outnumbered and has to face your husband alone. Javier takes a step closer, radiating authority when she tries to avoid further confrontation, distaste so clear on his face for how he has lost her attention for a moment. When you let out a quiet sob, too paralyzed in your spot on the couch to go to your whimpering child, his face hardens further and he continues, “Listen to me.”

Your mother looks up reluctantly. She appears to be on the brink of an attempt to turn his words against him and argue right back once more, but Javier cuts her off before she can even start.

“You don’t talk to her like that again. Ever. And you most certainly do not question her ability to be a mother. She is a perfect mother and God knows, she hasn’t gotten it from you. Lucas is a happy, healthy, and thriving baby because of her,” he takes a breath, and for a second, it seems like he might be done but then, “You hurt my girl, you understand that? And if you ever speak to her like that again - actually if you even speak about her like that again - I will personally make sure you don’t get to have Lucas in your life.”

“Are you threatening us?” Her composure slips even more.

“No, ma’am, I am instructing you,” he replies coldly, “If you can’t respect his mother, we’re done here.”

Javier turns to you now, his face softening immediately at the sight of you sitting teary-eyed on the couch with your hands clutching the baby monitor. He says your name so softly, a sound that has always felt like an unfamiliar and unwelcome sound within this house, and gently pulls the piece of technology out of your hands.

“Listen to me, baby. Go wait in the car. I’ll get Lucas and his things,” he instructs you, placing the baby monitor on the coffee table behind him without looking away from you. He helps you to stand when you find yourself nodding.

When you’re up from your seat, he puts a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the door. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let you linger in the room.

“You don’t have to leave,” your mother protests with obvious surprise that you and Javier are carrying out the promise of consequences. She begins pushing herself to stand.

“Sit down, I will not let you disturb any of the peace she has left,” he commands harshly when she tries to take a step toward you.

Your mother falters, stunned by his audacity, and sinks back into her seat.

The moment you’re out of the front door, your legs start shaking so badly beneath you that you aren’t sure if you’ll even make it to the car. The walk feels endless, like climbing a mountain, the neighborhood surrounding your childhood home quiet because everyone is inside with the happy family that you never got to have growing up.

Until now. You have it now. However, you have left them to fend for themselves on the battlefield to slide into the front seat of the car. You rub your chest as it feels tight but it soothes nothing and suddenly, the tears come harder than they had in the living room. You rest your head against the glass window, screwing your eyes shut and feeling drips of hot tears on your cheeks.

Memories come flooding and you have no power to stop them, pictures of many nights spent in solitude in your room because it was the only illusion of sanctuary in the house before you. The sound of your mother’s scoffs, her unbearable ability to make you feel small, inadequate, and unwanted. Her year-long cruelty feels like a knife in your chest but your father’s silent complicity twists its blade too, makes you think that you were never worthy of defending.

Yet Javier had done it so effortlessly, had done what you’d wished someone would have done for you in your entire life, and he had done it without any hesitation. You are shattered by another night believing the worst about yourself, yes, but you realize that a part of your sobs comes from relief too. Suddenly, it all feels silly and you don’t know why you have always stopped Javier from speaking up for you since you met because his words - she is a perfect mother - have taken the power out of your mother’s incredibly fast.

You hear the front door open and a shaky sob leaves you at seeing the two of your boys approach the car. Javier has the diaper bag over his shoulder whilst cradling Lucas against his chest, his face serious. He moves in long strides to get to you fast, not saying anything as he buckles Lucas’ sleeping form into his car seat before climbing into his own seat in the front.

You sit up again, eyes still brimming with tears that streak your face. You feel overwhelmed like you have run a marathon or fought a bear or a monster.

Javier puts on his seatbelt but doesn’t put the key in the ignition yet. He looks out of the windshield for a moment, breathes a sigh of relief. The car is quiet except for Lucas’ soft breaths as he sleeps.

Right until Javier says your name when you don’t automatically turn your head to look at him, ashamed of how the day has progressed. It is Christmas, after all, and Lucas’ first one ever too.

“Mírame (Look at me),” he says in a gentle murmur.

You shake your head, unable to answer with how tightly wound you are. You feel his hand under your chin, carefully pulling you by your chin until your eyes meet his. His outline is blurry from all the tears but his voice cuts through the fog in gentle firmness.

“I love you so much, and I love our son, okay?” He says it like it is a promise, “They aren't ever gonna to talk to you like that again because I won't allow them to. Do you understand me?”

You silently look at him through your tears, nodding weakly. He reaches to brush your tears away with a knuckle.

“Everything’s gonna be okay because you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to. You just have to let me take care of you,” he continues and cups your cheek instead, “And right now, I say you’re done with them for tonight. Actually, for as long as you fucking want.”

“I want… I don’t…” You say at first but then, “I’m sorry.”

Javier furrows his brows, “Why are you sorry?”

“Because that’s my mom,” you try to speak around a fresh sob, “And you married me and I trapped you with my fucked up family.”

“Hey, heyheyhey,” he shakes his head, moving his other hand to cup your whole face now. He leans over the console of the car and rests his forehead against yours. When you simply cry harder, he pulls you into a hug, “You didn’t trap me, okay? You didn’t. I’m here because you make me happy. You make me so happy, baby, and Hell knows, I needed a bit of taking care of when you met me. Let me return the favor.”

His body is warm, soothing, and grounding. His embrace squeezes you hard enough to make you calm down, giving you a moment of quiet peace in your mind as you begin to take in his words. You feel the same. You want to say it but you’re afraid that you’ll never stop crying tonight, so instead you find the courage to say those words that you should have told yourself years ago, “I don’t think I want to go back.”

“What do you want to do then?” Javier pulls back to look at you. He moves back into his own seat again and starts the car to give you time to think clearly about his question.

“Can we go to your dad’s?” You ask hesitantly.

Javier’s brows rise slightly but he doesn’t argue, just nods as he puts the car in reverse. Before reversing out of the driveway, he pulls you in to kiss your forehead softly.

“Claro, mi amor (Sure, my love),” he says simply, “He’d love to see us.”

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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456-is-the-way · 1 day ago

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hiii so ive had this idea for a while now but i just dont have the skills to write it myself, its not really a reader x character but more of a maybe actor!reader x the actor of the character if u get me??😭😭

so the idea is actor!reader plays a character that is also played as the love interest/partner of hwang inho (lee byung hun's character) and during their scenes together (like an intimate scene between their characters) reader just keeps messing up her lines or having trouble staying in character because she keeps getting flustered/shy by lee byung hun causing them to redo the scene over and over again so him and the whole cast just keeps laughing and teasing her about it😣😣🙏🙏🙏

A/n: So I will be going in order of the requests I get in my ask box then I will start on some suggestions I have in the comments. Once again, I do Actor x reader actor! So here is one of those ideas and I love it. I was going to do a tag list but I don’t know why it won't let me tag people!

Trigger warnings: Talks of smut, Partial Smut (lol?)

Squid Game Masterlist

Lee Byung-hun x reader

Quiet On Set

(Y/n) knew this scene would be the hardest to film. Sure as a professional actor, she filmed multiple movies that had intimate scenes. However, (Y/n) never had a romantic interest in the other actors. There was an instant spark when she met Lee Byung-hun. His character happens to have a complex background and in this season goes undercover to destroy Gi-hun, Lee Jung-jae, in an attempt to show him no matter what, people are greedy. Thats when (Y/n) character is introduced. (C/n) is written to be the complete opposite of The Frontman, In-ho. She is kind, patient, understanding, caring, and meant to show the good in humanity even though she has been dealt only hardships in life. Throughout the season their love builds up, soft touches, knowing glances, and quick kisses in secret. All the while (Y/n) had been falling helplessly in love with Lee Byung-hun. Of course, the fans did not let this go unnoticed during their recent interviews. Social media had blown up with edits and multiple bloggers posting about the chemistry they shared. (Y/n) would not admit her guilty pleasure is watching those edits and making comments herself which and fans foaming at the mouths. Lee Byung-hun even found it humorous that people not only shipped their character but them as well. When any with him and (Y/n) not on set but together was posted the fans always blew the comment section up within minutes.

“Alright places everyone!” Hwang Dong-hyuk called as the crew rushed to make sure everything was set up in the correct frames. “(Y/n), Byung-hun are you all ready?” He asked kindly always wanting to double-check checking the actors were comfortable in scenes where they would be partially on display. (Y/n) nods even though slightly hesitant she walked onto the set and stood by the bathroom wall where the scene was going to be shot.

Byung-hun walked behind her with a smile, “Don’t be nervous (Y/n) this scene will be over before you know it.” It earned a shy smile from the actress leaning against the wall.

“I am not that nervous… It’s a while since I have done scenes like this. Alright, I think we are ready.” She told the director and Byung-hun nodded in agreement.

“Quiet on set, Take one, action!” He yelled and silence filled the room. (Y/n) could swear her heartbeat could probably be heard by how badly it was beating against her chest.

Byung-hun fell into character without hesitation moving to press (Y/n) the cold tile. She breathes heavily cheeks flushed looking into his eyes. “In-ho we can’t” She whispered as he began aggressively kissing up her neck pressing their bodies together. (Y/n) let out a whimper from the pleasure she felt.

“But you (C/n)” His voice went low showing his absolute dominance. (Y/n) wasn’t used to this side of the sweet Byung-hun. As scripted their jumpsuits were quickly discarded. The heavy breathing filled the room as the two actors stood almost nude in front of each other. His leg slipped between (Y/n).

She arched up and moaned softly feeling him rub his knee against her covered core. “Byung-hun!” (Y/n) gasped causing him to instantly freeze. “Fuck I’m sorry.” She said as the director yelled cut.

“Let's roll again.” As the scene had to be started over (Y/n) continued to be a flustered mess messing up the lines or using Byung-hun’s name instead of Young-Il.

“You are a mess.” He chuckled as the team thought it was hilarious she could not for the life of her finish the scene. Byung-hun smirked and leaned down whispering in a low sexual voice. “Do it in one shot this time and I’ll let you cry my name tonight.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widen looking into her costars eyes with a grin. Let's just say she didn’t mess up again.

#squid game x reader #squid game smut #squid game fanfiction #squid game #in-ho #in ho x reader #in-ho smut #in-ho squid game #lee byung hun #lee byung-hun x reader #lee byung-hun smut #lee byung-hun images

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mckinlily · 2 days ago

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So I’m a woman in STEM, and in physics specifically that has some of the worse gender ratios out of all the sciences and right there with most engineering fields that I also worked closely with. All through my undergrad, I was told I was so lucky there were “maybe up to 10?” girls in my classes, instead of being the ONLY girl in the classroom like it was for my professors.

But you see, this wasn’t because men didn’t want women in physics. They did!! It was just women were socialized differently so they didn’t end succeeding as much (if they even tried at all—a pipeline problem that was not under the physicists’ control).

There were plenty of ways this showed up, but a big one was “Oh men don’t listen to women just because they don’t talk right.” See, women phrase their thoughts and contributions with “I think” or “I feel” or “Maybe it’s…” while men will just blast you with their opinions like it’s the word of god or some shit “ACTUALLY ITS THIS WAY”. See, it’s women’s soft way of speaking that actually disempowers themselves. Men would listen to them right away if they were just assertive. Just writing this out makes me want to puke, and very early on I was calling bullshit on it. Primarily on two accounts: 1) Why is it the woman’s communication style automatically Wrong and the man’s way is Right? Why don’t we accuse men of being failed communicators because they don’t communicate like women? Especially when both styles have advantages? Why do the men get to be assumed superior? And 2) we all know the term for an assertive woman: it’s BITCH.

But even while I could see all that bullshit, I was still pulled in by the underlying premise: if you’re just good enough—if you’re smart enough, experienced enough, competent enough, and confident enough—you will be let in and treated with respect.

So I tried to be as smart and competent and infallible as possible believing that if I did that, I would earn that respect.

Until one day, I actually managed it. I became a subject matter expert at my company. I had enough knowledge and experience to stand out among everyone else. And I did it fast. I learned more and faster than my other colleagues until I was the go-to person for multiple huge projects, even being relatively young. I was more competent, more efficient, more confident—finally able to go toe-to-toe with my male colleagues, even ones with more years of experience, on their level because I got that good.

And they treated me like SHIT.

It sucked being treated like an inferior, but it was 1000 times worse when they couldn’t believe I was inferior anymore and therefore treated me like a threat. Even the other women were less eager to back me up. The antagonism, the put downs, the way they kept me out of key conversations relevant to my job, the constant lying and gaslighting, the retaliation—

Turns out, they never meant to treat women like equals. But they held that promise out like a dangling carrot, convinced no woman could *actually* match that standard. And when one did, when I beat them at it, ALLLLL the nastiness came spewing out.

And this from guys who I had previously thought if it were decently ok!

Women act the way they do because that “female socialization” isn’t anything cute or passive or harmless. It is vicious backlash whenever they don’t—often violent backlash. Women are intelligent humans with brains very competent in opportunity v risk analysis. And if you’re a woman looking to survive or just minimize self harm—you learn very quickly which behaviors will protect you and which will get you attacked.

Don’t you dare criticize women for choosing the behaviors that are least likely to make them the targets of your cruelty and violence And girls, don’t internalize this idea that women’s ways are inferior or weak. Do what you need to do, whether that’s saving your energy for what you really care about, or throwing out patriarchy’s rules and taking the lumps that come with that. There’s no right answer when the system is built so that you’re always wrong.

Women do things that make sense. Women have always been just as logical as any human when presented with the facts of their lives which they know intimately.

Was it worth it to work hard, fight hard, and stand up for myself at my job? I don’t know. It wasn’t the “feminine” thing. It didn’t succeed in granting me the respect I wanted. It made life a lot harder for me, really. But I also found out that I’m a lot stronger and more skilled than I thought I was. I learned a lot of cool science.

And I left that job. Because I could see there was no path left for me to be respected that.

TLDR: Women aren’t “assertive” because men turn into raging lunatic de-aged monsters when they are. That’s some pretty strong negative reinforcement

a lot of behaviors that get attributed to "female socialization" can be so much more easily and accurately understood as a person recognizing the power differential surrounding them and behaving sensibly in response to that.

like. does a woman politely listen to a man monologue at her because of some experience she had when she was twelve that magically cursed her to behave that way forever, or does she do it because the man has the power to hurt her and she knows it?

does a woman do all the dishes in her household because she is less capable of breaking out of a long-ago conditioned response than, like, your average trained dog, or is she doing that because she knows that all the men in the house will blame her if she doesnt and will make life worse for her if she speaks up?

maybe a lot of sexist patterns of behavior that are widely observed in society arent caused by women like, lacking willpower or backbone? maybe it is super fucking weird for supposedly feminist movements to imply this is the case when they talk about female socialization as the end all, be all of predicting human behavior?

isnt it both more useful and more respectful toward women to consider that they are perceiving their present circumstances accurately, and recognize when power is already being wielded against them, and take logical measures to deescalate and protect themselves because it works? is it not fucking clear to everybody that trans women in particular have to do this all the fucking time?

#will that stop me from being assertive? not exactly #but my strategies HAVE to be based around the fact that I am a woman #and the world is fucking sexist #and I will always have to work at least twice as hard to be heard #and deal with all those infuriating male egos #I’m probably gonna die mad about that

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pastryfication · 23 hours ago

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Could you write a Lando or Oscar fic where the reader is on her period and accidentally bleeds through onto his sheets (cuz it’s his apartment) and only finds out when she wakes up w bad cramps in the middle of the night and then proceeds to try and fix it without them knowing but the driver wakes up in the middle of their struggle?

i’m always looking out, oscar piastri

warnings: mentions of menstruation

note: writing this to manifest my period coming soon 🙏 (it’s a week late and i’m kinda panicking…)

your mind was instantly in panic mode the moment you awoke to a sticky feeling between your legs. this was your worst nightmare. it could not be happening. it just couldn’t be happening.

lifting the sheets a bit, you almost cried when you spotted to big red splotch on your boyfriend’s sheets. as carefully as possible, you pried away the duvet completely and swung your legs over the side. the movement was surprisingly smooth, but the moment you stilled, a painful cramp moved through your body and you had to bite you lip harshly to prevent yourself from whimpering out loud.

taking a moment to collect yourself, you took a deep breath before standing. your whole body was screaming for you to lay down again and curl into a ball until the pain subsided, but you couldn’t. you needed to fix this first.

you took tentative steps towards the bathroom, taking a pair of clean pants with you so you could clean up yourself first. every step felt like a thousand shapes knives stabbing your uterus, and as you lowered yourself to sit on the toilet, you almost sighed out loud from the relief.

you had no idea how you were gonna get the sheets clean without waking oscar, but you were determined to try. he had been so tired since the season ended, and you wanted nothing more than to give him the peaceful sleep he deserved without interrupting him with your problems.

quietly slipping from the bathroom, through the bedroom where your boyfriend was still sleeping peacefully, completely obvious to your current panic, you made your way to the kitchen. you knew he kept his detergent under the kitchen sink, so you tiptoed over there, very careful as you opened the cupboard.

you dropped to your knees, your stomach aching painfully as you did so, to look for the right one, but the dark made it hard to see what you were doing, and in your quiet haste, you accidentally knocked one over, causing all the hidden away soap to clash together.

immediately stilling, your eyes flew up to carefully observe the doorway. your heart was beating out of your chest, your cheeks blooming red from the thought of being caught alone. for ten seconds you waited, but when no sounds were heard from the bedroom, you let out a breath of relief and got to your feet with the white cloth detergent clutched tightly in your hands. you couldn’t put the sheets in the washer, not when oscar was laying on them, but you could try to remove the spot as good as possible before he woke up, and then wash them properly in the morning when he was out for his daily run.

it was a fool proof plan, one that could hardly go wrong, but as you opened the door to his bedroom once again and was met with the light on and your boyfriend tiredly—but with obvious concern—missing with his eyes up at you, you almost broke down. his gaze held so much tenderness and when he said your name, his voice was filled with so much love that your knees almost gave out.

“what are you doing up, baby?” his voice was scratchy from sleep as he tried to survey the situation.

“i— uhm— i was just—“ you tried to find the words, but you were too tired, too groggy and in too much pain to come up with a lie.

“and why are you carrying laundry detergent? what’s happened, honey?” he was on his feet surprisingly quick, considering how tired he looked, but the look of fatigue on your face was enough to alarm him.

“i— i was just—“ you looked helplessly at your abandoned spot in his bed and he followed your eyes.

“did you drop something on the sheets? you know i don’t care, right?” he moved to your side to check the sheets, and the moment he spotted the red splotch, his face fell. you stood nailed to the ground, a feeling of horror filling your body as you watched him.

“oh, baby,” his voice dropped with sweetness and he was by your side in two long strides. “why didn’t you wake me?”

his hands went to your shoulders, holding you so carefully that you couldn’t keep yourself together anymore. “i don’t know.” your voice cracked and tears gathered in your eyes, the last 20 minutes finally catching up to you. “i guess i just— i mean it’s your bed! and i’m so embarrassed… but it just hurts so bad! i’m sorry, osc. i’m so sorry, i ruined your sheets, and your sleep, and—“

“woah, baby, calm down.” he stopped your nervous rambling with a gentle hand to your cheek. “we’ll figure this out, okay?”

you nodded as he led you out of the bedroom and into the guest room next door, where a clean bed was waiting. “have you put on clean pants? or should i find you some? and a pad?” he was so eager to help that you couldn’t help but smile.

“no, i already changed,” you mumbled, looking down your hands as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“alright, perfect.” he smiled softly as he stood himself directly in front of you. “now, let’s get you back in bed and i’ll get you some painkillers and a heating pad, yeah? and then i’ll figure out the sheets.”

your head shot up, meeting his tender gaze as you tried to protest. “no, osc, you don’t have to do that. it’s my mess, you shouldn’t have to—“

“stop.” he cut you off. “i don’t care that you woke me. i want you to wake me every time you need help, okay, love? because i love you. i love you so much, and i hate seeing you in distress, so i want to help you all that i can. i don’t care if it’s 2 in the morning or in the middle of the day. i want to help, okay?”

tears gathered in your eyes at his words and you couldn’t do anything but nod in reply. “i love you so much. you’re too good to me.”

“no. you deserve the world, baby. nothing is too good for you.” he leaned down to press a warm kiss to your lips, and you smiled as he pulled back and helped you get comfortable in his guest bed.

“i’ll come join you in just a minute,” he promised as he softly padded out the room, and you sighed contentedly and snuggled into the soft duvet. oscar’s words echoed in your mind, and as you fell asleep, a soft smile was gracing your lips.

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gyaruhana · 3 days ago

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hii I was js wondering if u cld write some headcannons or a scenario for yandere myung gi (player 333) nothing specificc

Myung-gi/Player 333 - Yandere Headcannons

Synopsis: Headcannons of Myung-gi liking you just a little too much.. (okay, it's way more than a little)

A/N: cute idea i like !!

Warnings: obsessive behavior, yandere content, kidnapping, murder, stalking

➠ Yandere Myung-gi is such a good thought..

➠ Likely watched you from afar at first but not in a stalker-ish way

➠ Moreso he'd stare at you if you were nearby and think about how you are so very pretty

➠ although, to be fair, he did find all your social media profiles when he got home but that was the most of it !!

➠ he only got obsessive when he saw you talking to some guy and felt quite angry

➠ from there he started stalking you to your house, to your job- everywhere just to make sure no one else was pining after you.

➠ if someone was, he'd leave a very ominous message about staying away from you or harm would come to the persons family

➠ Of course, it was all just threats to scare people away.

➠ eventually, he wormed his way into your life with a cute smile and a flushed face

➠ you could never think he was a bad guy because he seemed so cute and genuine when he asked you out

➠ That was a mistake

➠ You agreeing to go out with him made his obsession with you a million times worse

➠ First time he went to your house he may have, or may have not, stolen your underwear and uh.. you could guess what he did with that when he went home.

➠ He just really likes your scent okay !!

➠ In front of you, he's a total sweetheart. Behind your back, he's fucking crazy

➠ the first time he killed someone was when a guy flirted with you after Myung-gi left you alone for just a moment

➠ something in him just snapped that day and that guy who had the audacity to come close to you was now in his room, tied up, and having his fingers cut off one by one

➠ Cut the guys tongue off as well before killing him because he wanted the guy to learn a lesson about daring to talk to his girl like that

➠ from then, he didn't shy away from killing people who even looked at you

➠ you were unaware about what he was up to because he was so very careful when cleaning up

➠ You didn't figure it out until it was far too late and he had you in the palm of his hand

➠ When he finally admits what he's done for you (or you find out and confront him), he's begging you to stay

➠ He'd really rather not hurt you at all

➠ But if you try to leave he's quick to knock you out

➠ absolutely does kidnap you and apologizes over and over again while saying that he's doing it for your own good

➠ overall, very protective and wants you all to himself

"I'm really sorry, baby, but you were trying to leave me," he spoke with an apologetic tone as his thumb gently stroked your cheek. Your hands and legs were bound to a chair as you struggled against it, tears filling your eyes. The sight made Myung-gi's heart ache but he knew this was for your own good. He couldn't let you leave him - not when you were soulmates. "Don't cry.. I'll keep you safe from everyone else,"

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #myung gi #squid game s2

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the-loosest-moose · 3 days ago

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Writer Goal Ask List for a New Year 🎉

Okay, I'll bite (as productive-ish procrastination)!

💖 What is your primary writing goal for this year? Finish WIPs that I had to put on hold because of health issues.

🛳 Are there any new ships you want to write for? (Platonic, romantic, or anything in between.) Just started writing for a new ship - Wolf Pack (HarlanxCyrus)

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about? Just the ones I recently started (new ship).

🥸 Does anyone in IRL know you write fanfic or original fiction? If not, do you plan on telling anyone this year? I think three friends know at this point. I was anxious to tell them, because I was sure I'd be laughed at.

🥵 Any plans to write steamy or spicy content this year? Always.

👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write? I'm just starting a mystery, which is new for me.

🦄 Is there a new POV you'd like to try writing? No.

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals? Consider writing with an outline.

🦖 Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you'd like to return to? Long dead past for me - X-Men (Rogue/Gambit), and no, I am not sharing what I previously wrote. Painful.

🍄 Are there any fandoms you've never written for but want to try? Maybe Arcane (Jayvik, Caitvi).

🌈 What research do you plan on doing for your writing? I have to research what is involved in fighting fires and dealing with potential arson.

✨What's one area of your writing that you think needs the least amount of improvement? Dialogue.

🥕 What's one area of your writing that you think needs the most amount of improvement? Probably world building/describing characters' surroundings.

🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year? The Hunt (a Wolf Pack - Cyrus/Harlan textfic). I think the characters could be fleshed out in really juicy ways (sexual and otherwise), and there's a lot of potential for hidden angst.

🥳 How are you going to celebrate when you achieve one of your writing goals? Ha, I love the idea that I will achieve a writing goal. I will experience surprise.

🎃 Do you plan on writing any seasonal fics? No.

🐾 Do you plan on writing for any fests or competitions? No. I struggle with writing when there is an external goal/deadline. NaNoWriMo was a nightmare for me.

✍️ Which stat matters most to you (if at all!): subscriptions, kudos/favorites, comments, bookmarks, word count, or hits? Probably kudos/favorites and comments. I don't want them to matter, but it is such a joy to hear that someone likes what I've done.

👾 Do you have any "bad" writing habits you want to break? Starting fics without finishing WIPs.

🤖 Are you looking to change your current writing setup? (Or establish one, if you don't have one?) I'd like to do more writing at the library or a coffee shop. Not for pretentious reasons, but because my dogs are very needy, and it's hard to focus at home sometimes. My setup at home would be great if my dogs were busy.

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it! "Dreading" is a strong word. I am anxious about the next chapter of my Kanthony fic (Keep Looking at Me) - I've had to take a long break, and I'm concerned about continuity/pacing.

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it! I'm actually really excited about the first prose chapter of my Wolf Pack fic - it references a lot of childhood angst and current-day burnout, which appears to be my comfort zone.

🍕Will you be making any changes to your posting schedule (if you have one)? (Or do you want to establish a posting schedule?) Posting schedule? Never met her.

🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year? Maybe a bit of a spoiler. Mom angst/revenge (related to protecting her children).

🪩 Do you have any "good" writing habits you want to cultivate? Honestly, I don't know that this is a good writing habit. But I trust my instincts about whether something works, and I hope I can keep having the confidence to do that. I'm sure my writing could be better, particularly with a beta reader, but I think my writing turns out the way I want/need it to this way. No one else may agree, but I'm proud I've always had that confidence.

🎉 How are you going to be kind to yourself if you don't meet your goals? I'm learning to put self-care first. It's been like crawling through broken glass to get back here - psych hospitalization, learning to walk again, you name it. I'm using DBT skills, exercising, and preemptively taking care of myself. That will happen regardless of how writing goes.

💌 Are you willing to take requests or prompts for writing? Yes, BUT. I don't think anyone would benefit. I have a really hard time writing when I *have* to - maybe it is demand avoidance, but I've really struggled with this in the past. I'm willing, but I don't have a lot of confidence in my ability to do it well. The stories seem to want to write themselves in the order/way they want to be written, so it doesn't feel like I get to choose when/what happens. That makes prompts harder for me.

Writer Goal Ask List for a New Year 🎉

These writer asks are always so fun to both ask and answer. Fanfic or original fiction writers, reblog away! These are asks based in new goals for a new year.

💖 What is your primary writing goal for this year?

🛳 Are there any new ships you want to write for? (Platonic, romantic, or anything in between.)

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about?

🥸 Does anyone in IRL know you write fanfic or original fiction? If not, do you plan on telling anyone this year?

🥵 Any plans to write steamy or spicy content this year?

👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write?

🦄 Is there a new POV you'd like to try writing?

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

🦖 Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you'd like to return to?

🍄 Are there any fandoms you've never written for but want to try?

🌈 What research do you plan on doing for your writing?

✨What's one area of your writing that you think needs the least amount of improvement?

🥕 What's one area of your writing that you think needs the most amount of improvement?

🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year?

🥳 How are you going to celebrate when you achieve one of your writing goals?

🎃 Do you plan on writing any seasonal fics?

🐾 Do you plan on writing for any fests or competitions?

✍️ Which stat matters most to you (if at all!): subscriptions, kudos/favorites, comments, bookmarks, word count, or hits?

👾 Do you have any "bad" writing habits you want to break?

🤖 Are you looking to change your current writing setup? (Or establish one, if you don't have one?)

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

🍕Will you be making any changes to your posting schedule (if you have one)? (Or do you want to establish a posting schedule?)

🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?

🪩 Do you have any "good" writing habits you want to cultivate?

🎉 How are you going to be kind to yourself if you don't meet your goals?

💌 Are you willing to take requests or prompts for writing?

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esote-rika · 2 days ago

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derision as prelude to desire | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Waldorf!Reader

Category: smut 18+ MDNI, fluff if you squint

Summary: Spencer Reid’s new coworker is mean but one night doing overtime together leads to the two of them bonding.

Content: glasses!Spencer, workplace rivals if you squint, Spencer Reid vs technology, reader is kind of mean and based on Blair Waldorf (in background, looks, and personality), Spencer is petty, his mind is in the GUTTER, use of eye drops, making out, sub!Spencer, fingering, oral (male receiving), whining and begging glasses!Spencer. Let’s pretend the BAU doesn’t have any CCTV cameras for this one m’kay thanks

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: This is an ITCH in my brain, like I’ve been thinking about a Spencer Reid x Blair Waldorf crackship since August last year it’s actually concerning. One of my favorite ship dynamics is loser boy x popular girl, so it makes sense. Still in second person to make it immersive. This isn’t a crossover, so there will be no spoilers for Gossip Girl. The reader's personality, looks and background are just based on Blair. Let me know if you want to read more of this dynamic because I have so many ideas for it oh my god. I hope you enjoy it! Also, tagging @darkmatilda as a fellow glasses!Spencer connoisseur.

Spencer Reid often muses on the series of events that had brought you from the streets of the Upper East Side to work in Quantico, Virginia. It would be easy to ask, of course, or even have Penelope do a quick background check on you, but he’s made a game of it instead, piecing together what he knows of your history, filling in the blanks of what would have gone wrong, what decisions you would have taken, in order to leave the privileged life you led and enter public service.

As far as he had been concerned, you don’t belong anywhere near the FBI, let alone the BAU. Spoiled, rich, with a mean streak he is all too familiar with from his time in school.

He had been so sure you wouldn’t fit in when you first joined the team. You had been, and continue to be, perfectly made, every single hair shiny and curled just so, heels always so shiny and matching whatever designer bag you have slung over your shoulder. Everything about you screams high maintenance, and his profiler instincts point to several things: uncooperative, wants everything handed to you, ditzy.

But then you had shown your cards, had proved his assessment so wrong and he could never forgive you for the sting of that defeat.

It doesn’t help that you seem to enjoy riling him up as well. Every case is an opportunity to one up him, an attempt to claim his spot and it’s unfair. You already have everything, yet you still refuse to yield the title of team genius to him, the one thing he can cling to, the thing he knows is his.

He is still glowering today, four months into your employment, passive aggressively hitting the keys on his keyboard. He’s a slow typist, and he’d agreed to write Morgan’s reports for him this week, a favor between friends he’s now beginning to regret. You are the only one keeping him company. The rest of the team has already left hours ago, but you’re typing away at your desk, fingers flying through the keyboard without even a glance. His own skills seem laughable in comparison, going at the keys one by one, with the speed of an old grandparent squinting over a typewriter instead of a man in his twenties.

“Take a picture, Reid, it’ll last longer.”

He blinks, forcing his eyes back to the monitor. “You’re so original.” he mutters, pushing his glasses up to nestle on top of his head. He rubs his eyes, already despising the glare of the screen.

“Aw, what, the genius can’t handle a little blue light?”

He doesn’t bother with a response, blinking at the screen instead. The sooner he can get this done, the sooner he can leave. Sounds of tapping keys fill the air again, but he stops after a few moments again, rubbing at his eyes. He hears a sigh, and then your voice again, haughty but somehow concerned.

“You’re not supposed to rub your eyes, it makes it worse.”

“I know,” he grumbles, “I don’t need you lecturing me about the importance of eye health.”

“It seems like you do, since you’re still doing it.” you reply derisively. He’d be rolling his eyes if he isn’t too busy rubbing them.

“Here,” you say, “Catch.”

Confused, he lifts his head, only to flinch as something hurls right at him. “What-” it hits his desk, then bounces off.

“Oh, look what you’ve done, genius.”

“You threw it at me.” his lips are pulled into a tight line of disapproval, “A head’s up would have been nice.”

“I did, genius, I said catch. You just have the reflexes of an eighty year old.” your voice is tinged with annoyance.

To his surprise, you’re up and walking to his desk, heels echoing in the empty bullpen. He watches as you gingerly kneel on the ground, bending down, and his eyes grow wide. The image of you bent down like this is surprisingly enticing, your skirt straining against the soft curve of your hips, hair falling down your shoulders like a curtain of the night sky. You’ve gotten close enough that he can smell your perfume, something citrusy and clean, and he subconsciously leans closer.

Mouth dry, he manages to croak out, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find the damn eye drops.” you snap, an arm extending towards him and for a moment he holds his breath, waiting for contact. Instead, you grab something from the ground, “There it is.”

He watches as you straighten, lifting your torso upright, but still kneeling in front of him. An image flashes through his mind, your face between his thighs, those large eyes staring up at him, but he banishes it quickly lest his thoughts begin to stir his body.

“Here, these should help.” You say, finally standing back up and placing the tiny bottle on his desk. A filthy part of him wishes you’d get back on your knees. He catches the tilt of your head, the confusion in your eyes, “Reid. Are you still with me? Has your brain finally short circuited from all those statistics?”

Oh his brain is short circuiting, all right, just from a different cause.

“I’m - yeah.” he replies, and then he rattles off the first thought his frazzled mind could come up with, “Did you know some people have used eye drops as a method for murder? Not these ones, but there are specific brands that contain—”

“Tetrahydrozoline,” you finish for him, “Yeah, I know.”

He blinks. There you go again, proving your intellect, your value, somehow matching his even though he’s pretty sure you are no genius, not in the same way he is. Still, perhaps it’s the late night, or your offer of relief, but the sting of being bested doesn’t resonate tonight. A softer feeling unfurls in his chest, something warm and addictive, something like understanding. He smiles, “That’s right.”

You nod, curls spilling over your shoulders again, “Mhm. Well… These are for your eyes, I’m not trying to poison you.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you.”

A scoff, “Please, I’m not dumb enough to attempt murder in the office.”

His brows lift and he finds himself grinning, “So you’ve thought about it?”

“I will neither deny nor confirm.” you’re smiling now too, and he lets his eyes roam over the pretty lines of your face, memorizing how lovely you look in this moment, guards lowered and smiling at him with ease. He thinks he sees something flash in those pretty eyes of yours but he’s not sure. Reading people has never been his strong suit, regardless of his profession.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” you gesture at his glasses, and he immediately obeys, pushing it back up to nestle on his hair. He holds his breath as you come closer, bites his lips when your hand comes to his chin. It’s soft, unbelievably gentle, and you tilt his head back. From this angle, he can see the way your lashes curl, the soft hint of shimmer swept across your lids. Eyeshadow, he remembers from what Penelope and JJ have told him, and it highlights the shape of your eyes, making them appear brighter.

He blinks as coolness hits his eye, and then you’re tilting his head to the other side, and he’s trying not to panic, trying not to be a creep, but in reality, he hasn’t been this close, this intimate to a woman in so long that it’s messing up his ability to inhale, to think, to function. Your hair flutters gently around his face, and the scent of citrus is stronger now, heady, and he feels so light headed he’s afraid he’ll faint.

The same coolness hits the other eye, and before you can pull away, before he can think it through, he’s curling his own hand over your wrist. He lifts it up, pressing a kiss to the inside of your palm, admonishing any thoughts of germs and bacteria, and instead relishing at the tender flesh beneath his lips. He kisses your palm again, lips gently tracing the lines, before moving down to the inside of your wrist, before pausing.

He dares to peer up, waiting for a reprimand, a cutting sentence that would have him lashing back at you, but there’s none. There it is again, the flicker in your eyes, and now he finally knows the word to attach to it: desire.

He kisses the inside of your wrist again, and feels you pulse fluttering beneath his lips. Fast, to his surprise, almost matching the quick succession of thudding in his chest.

“Reid,” you whisper, and he waits again, allows you time to pull away. You don’t, but he’s apprehensive now, afraid he’s crossed a boundary. He definitely has, but he would do it again if you express the desire to do so, to tumble into whatever this is with him. He just needs confirmation, one verbal acknowledgement that you want this too, because he doesn’t trust his ability to read you yet, not when he’s spent so much time despising you.

But you’re just looking at him, and the embarrassment is almost painful. His cheeks heat up, and he drops your hand.

“I’m sorry.” he murmurs, sinking back on his seat. He’s about to turn to his monitor, intent to forget about this, forget everything even though his memory would make that impossible, but he finds his face being tilted up again, cradled between impossibly soft hands, and then there’s lips against his own, your lips, oh god you are kissing him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, following the movement of your mouth to the best of his limited ability. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lets out an involuntary whimper, his body jerking at the sting. He feels you smiling against his mouth, cocky even in the midst of a kiss, in the midst of the most heated kiss he’s had since - since - he can’t even remember her, the brief dalliance he had with an actress once upon a time, because all he can think of is your mouth, and your hands, nails scratching at his scalp, and every single thought is expelled from his mind when you climb on his lap.

“God,” he moans in between kisses, his breaths ragged, but he would gladly drown in you before stopping.

“Not god,” you correct him and nip at his lower lip with more force this time.

“Mhm.” he whines, and kisses you again, shifting so you’re more comfortable on his lap. He wonders if the chair is creaking from your combined weight, but then you’re grinding directly on his cock and he’s lost in a haze of white hot pleasure.

Apparently, Spencer Reid cannot multitask, because his lips fall slack as you grind against his hardening cock. Your laughter tinkles in his ear, before your mouth latches on his jaw, down his neck, open and wet and sticky. He knows you said you aren’t god, and he’s never been religious, but he swears this must be heaven. Fitting too, in the same way he’s never thought he’d reach some place he doesn’t even believe in, he’s also never thought he would have you—beautiful, infuriating, untouchable you—grinding on his lap with a desperation that borders frenzy.

Recognizing that your need burns you just as his is making him reckless, he manages to whisper, “Tell me— tell me what to do. How do I make you feel good?”

You giggle, taking one of his hands away from your waist and leading it under your skirt. The fabric has bunched up over your thighs, and he grips the smooth flesh greedily. But you have other ideas, and he’s eager to learn, so he lets you move his hand higher, until the tips of his fingers brush against moist fabric.

His mouth goes dry. You’ve soaked through your panties.

“Like this?” he dips his fingers past the lace, his mouth falling open at the slick that’s gathered at your core. You have your face buried at his neck, lips and tongue still assaulting the tender skin there, but he feels you nod, feels the shudder that runs through you, and he takes those as a good sign. His touch is exploratory, gentle, fueled by an intoxication over the fact that you’re here and you’re enjoying it, you’re making those sounds for him.

He’s awestruck rather than cocky, and when he slides his fingers into your pussy, he’s immediately trying to figure out a rhythm that would draw out those pretty noises from your lips. When he finds it, he sticks to it, greedily drinking in your moans, no matter how muffled they are against his neck.

There’s a sense of degeneracy to this whole thing. Fingering his coworker in the office, right there on his desk, he could get fired should this get out, they both could. Still, he’s never truly had anyone want him so unabashedly and he simply cannot stop. You had been the one to kiss him, after all, the lines in the sand had been completely trampled by the time you had climbed on his lap.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, and he feels you move, riding his hand shamelessly, and he has to bite your shoulder to keep himself from whining again. The sight alone nearly undoes him, and you’ve barely done anything. He’s been actively providing you with stimulation this whole time, fucking you with his fingers relentlessly, and somehow, he wouldn’t change a single thing.

“Yeah?” he asks, pupils blown wide, wanting, needing the assurance that he’s doing good, he’s making you feel good.

“Yes, oh fuck, yes!” your voice grows sharper as he curls his fingers with every thrust. After a few moments of fumbling with your panties, his thumb presses against your clit and he’s rewarded by another groan from you.

He draws figure eights against your slick core, finding a rhythm that has you tugging at his hair wildly, and he’s whispering into your ear, pleading, “That’s it, please come for me, please, let me see how good you feel, please, please—”

“Spencer!” you groan, and then you’re shuddering in his lap, and his fingers down to his knuckles are wet with your slick.

He grins, helping you through your orgasm, pressing kisses to your hair, the FBI issued office chair creaking so much he’s afraid the two of you would break it if you don’t stop. The image is hilarious in its absurdity, making his grin widen, and you must have taken it for arrogance because he feels a slight smack on his shoulder.

“Don’t get cocky.” you mutter.

He takes you in, the flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, mascara now smudged along your lash lines, and he’s reverential instead of arrogant, grateful that he has brought someone so stunning and capable to the throes of pleasure, has taken you apart so much you’ve ruined your normally perfect facade.

“You’re beautiful.” he tells you, his own eyes glistening with an unfocused daze. You roll your eyes and shake your head, and he’s seized with a desire to keep you hear and bury his fingers inside you over and over again until you believe him.

“Your turn.” You chuckle, hands unwinding from his neck and travelling down the length of his abdomen, coming to the buckle on his belt.

“Wait, I—uh,” he turns beet red once again, clearing his throat, “Are you on the pill? I don’t have—”

You tilt your head, as if the idea of a man walking around without a condom is foreign. Perhaps it is, but Spencer simply never assumed he would have any use for it. He turns away, teeth worrying his lower lip, but you pull his face to you again.

“I have hands.” you say as you resume undoing his pants. You shift, then slink away from him, and he whines at the loss of your warmth, but he sees you on your knees once again, and this time it’s not just his brain making up lewd, inappropriate thoughts, “And a mouth.”

“Y-you really don’t have to.”

“I know,” you grin, pretty as the devil and twice as tempting, and as your hands wrap around his engorged length, thumb circling at the tip, “But how can I not, when you’re this pretty?”

He blacks out, he swears he does, there’s no way this isn’t a perverted dream, no way that you’re actually stroking up and down his throbbing cock. Somehow he comes to, only to feel a warmth, a wetness, enveloping the swollen tip, and his hips buck up instinctively. He whines when your hands push at his thighs, holding him in place.

“Please,” he gasps, babbles, really, “Please, oh god, that feels so good.”

You take him further down and he throws his head back so violently the glasses slip past his ears and clatter onto the floor. He feels your laughter vibrating against his cock and it almost has him keening. He whines, wriggles against your hold with no real desire to break free. He finds that likes the force of your hands on him, nails leaving harsh indents on his flesh as he struggles. The pain is delicious, heightening his already frazzled senses.

You bob your head up and down, your hair swaying gently, and he manages to will his hands to move, gathering the soft tresses in his hand so they won’t impede your movement. Your eyes flicker up, meet his own, and he swears there’s a thank you in the glint of them. He cannot do anything else.

Slack jawed, he watches you hollow your cheeks, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth as you give him the best head he’s ever experienced. Never mind that it’s his first one, and that he doesn’t have a point of comparison. He’s convinced this is the best, you are the best, and he’s never been more thankful for his eidetic memory until this night, knowing that he cannot, will never, ever forget the way you look as you knelt down and sucked his cock like you were being paid to do it.

“God, you’re so pretty, oh my god, yes, just like that, please, please, yes.” he’s aware that he’s whining, and there’s an amused twinkle in your eye that tells him he would never hear the end of this after.

He knows you well enough to know that you would dangle this over his head any chance you get, that you aren’t above playing dirty. Instead of dread, it makes his stomach roil with another gush of desire, and he knows that that is even more concerning than whatever you were going to do.

(It never occurs to him to do the same, that he could tease you back and point out that he has had you on your knees and sucking on his cock like you were made for it simply because his brain cannot fathom ever associating the sight of you kneeling before him as something to be ashamed of.)

He’s drawn from his thoughts as he feels your hands cupping his balls, stimulating an entirely new area that has him thrusting up. He feels his cock brush against the back of your throat, and he pulls back immediately, eyes wide with worry as you gag around his length.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby you can stop if—”

But you do it again, soldiering past your gag reflex and taking him all the way, and he can hear someone saying oh fuck oh fuck I’m cumming agh, please, I’m cumming, and he thinks its his own voice but he’s unsure. His eyes are squeezed shut, colors exploding behind his lids as he feels your tongue swirling over and over his sensitive cock, before the cool air surrounds it, telling him you’ve stopped completely.

When he opens his eyes, you have your head on his thigh, cheek pressed against the fabric, a lazy smile on your ruined lips.

“God,” he whispers, reaching for you, wanting you close, “That was—wow, you—come here, please.”

He watches as a flicker of surprise flits over your face, before you mask it with a giggle, “Good?” you murmur, tucking his soft cock into his pants before climbing on his lap again.

“Incredible.” He holds you tight, your slick only half dry on his fingers, the taste of him still on your tongue, “You’re incredible.”

You’re quiet, contemplative, and he presses a kiss to your neck, wanting to bring you out of whatever funk you’ve gone into, “Hey, what is it?” He’s almost terrified of the answer, worried you would pull away and leave him cold.

“I just didn’t think you’d be a cuddler.” you reply, eventually sinking into his arms. Your voice is soft when you say, “Most men aren’t.”

The thought of her having experiences doesn’t bother him; it’s the fact that they callously left her after that makes him tighten his hold on her. “I’m sorry.”

“For the entirety of shitty men? You’d need more apologies than that,” you chuckle, fingers absently curling into his hair, “But thank you. This is— this is nice.”

“It is,” Spencer nods, leaning into your touch, eyes shut.

“You lost your glasses.”

“I did.”

Your laughter fills the air, “Hey, are you sleepy? You still have Morgan’s reports to finish.”

His eyes flutter open, a sheepish smile on his lips, “Why’d you have to remind me?”

“Because the sooner you finish it, the sooner we can do this again.”

Spencer laughs, kissing your shoulder as he relents, “All right, all right.” That’s more than enough incentive to brave staring at the monitor again.

Bestie I forgot to tag you lol @floraisunwell

#spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #dr spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #Waldorf!Reader

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aesthetically-dying101 · 18 hours ago

Text

Wifed up

A/N: im trying this type of thing out, but what happens if the JJk men saw you without your wedding ring? (tbf, im sure this has been done by others before, i sure as hell aren't the first to write this, won't be the last.)im genuinely so scared of posting this lmfao, okay but anyways

Characters: Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Toji, Sukuna, Shiu. (in said order)

Nanami:

Nanami almost got whiplash when he noticed the ring—your wedding ring, for heaven’s sake—wasn’t on your finger.

But when he stepped through the door of your shared home, grocery bags in one hand, jacket slung over his arm, and caught sight of your bare hand…well, he nearly dropped the tomatoes.

It wasn’t like him to jump to conclusions—he prided himself on logic, on maturity. But standing in the doorway of your shared home, the scent of vanilla and butter wafting through the air, his heart skipped a beat for all the wrong reasons. He could see you through the archway leading into the kitchen, flour dusting your forearms, a faint smear of chocolate on your cheek.

You looked radiant, as always. But the empty space on your left hand? That detail stood out sharper than a curse in a crowd.

Nanami’s mind, traitorous for the first time in years, whispered an awful thought: Was she hiding it? Why? What if she’s inviting someone else over while I’m at work?

He hated the thought. Hated that it even crossed his mind. But he was only human—humans with hearts could be irrational, especially when they cared so deeply.

The seconds stretched, but his mind was already racing. His rational side kicked in almost immediately, reminding him that you were probably just taking it off while baking—something harmless, right? You’ve always done that. It’s just a ring.

But... It had been a conversation in the office that kept nagging at him all week. His coworker—someone he’d known for years—had just found out that his wife of ten years had been cheating on him. The betrayal had rocked him to his core, and for the last few days, Nanami had been wondering how something like that could happen. His mind lingered on the idea that a partner could hide something so big, and the doubt, for just a second, crawled into his own relationship. What if you were hiding it too?

He shook his head. Get a grip, Kento. Still, he couldn’t quite quell the question lingering at the edge of his thoughts.

“Y/N,” he called softly, stepping closer.

You turned, a bright smile lighting up your face.

“You’re home early!” you exclaimed, wiping your hands on your apron.

“I am,” he replied, voice steady, though his sharp eyes didn’t miss the bare ring finger you so casually flaunted. “Where’s your ring?”

Your eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, that!” You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “I took it off while baking. Didn’t want to get dough all over it. It’s right over there.”

You pointed to the windowsill by the sink, where sure enough, both your engagement and wedding rings sat neatly side by side.

Relief flooded him so fast it almost made him dizzy. He nodded, keeping his tone light. “I see. I suppose I should’ve known you wouldn’t be that careless with it.”

“Careless?” You scoffed, playfully offended. “I’m meticulous, thank you very much.”

He smiled faintly, his heart settling back into its usual rhythm. You stepped closer, your grin turning mischievous. Before he could react, your flour-dusted hand slapped his backside with an audible smack.

Nanami froze, incredulous, as you dissolved into laughter.

“There,” you declared between giggles. “I marked my territory. Now wash your hands and help me.”

Nanami followed you after shrugging off his jacket and loosening his tie. He slipped off his own wedding ring and set it carefully beside yours on the counter before rolling up his sleeves. For the next hour, the two of you moved seamlessly, kneading dough and rolling croissants together. The air filled with the warmth of the oven and the soft melody of your laughter.

By the time the pastries were golden and flaky, Nanami leaned against the counter, his hand resting on your lower back. The soft touch quickly turned into something more as his lips brushed your temple, then your cheek. You turned to meet him halfway, mouths molding together in a kiss that deepened quickly, his hands firm against your waist.

Nanami’s lips were warm and urgent against yours, every brush of his mouth sending a shiver down your spine. His hands, once gently resting on your waist, now gripped you tighter, pulling you flush against him as your body aligned in all the right ways.

You could feel the heat building between you, your chest pressed against his as your hands worked on the button of his shirt with determination, your fingers fumbling only slightly as you pushed him further against the counter. He groaned against your lips when you tugged at his tie, undoing it with quick, practiced movements.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased, his voice low and rough, but the words disappeared as your lips traced the edge of his jaw-his perfect jaw, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck.

“I’ve been waiting all day,” you murmured, hands sliding down to the waistband of his pants. His breath hitched when you unbuckled his belt and slid your hand inside, brushing against him with the kind of intention that made him gasp, his body instinctively bucking into your touch.

You grinned against his skin, the heat of the moment clouding your mind. This wasn’t just about passion—it was about claiming him, showing him with every touch that he was the only one. You slid your hand lower, your fingers grazing him with a teasing pressure that made his breath quicken.

“You’re the only man I need, Nanami Kento,” you whispered, meeting his eyes as you pulled him closer, grinding your hips against his. The friction had your pulse racing, a primal need building in the pit of your stomach.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you even tighter against him as he kissed you again, this time with a desperation that matched yours. His lips were insistent, almost possessive, as his hands slipped under your shirt, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a way that made you shiver.

The air was thick with heat, your body aching with want, when suddenly—

DING!

The oven timer went off.

You both froze.

The croissants.

“Oh no—!”

You shoved away from him with a frustrated gasp, already heading toward the kitchen, but not before you shot him a glance. “You’re so distracting!”

Nanami watched you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breath. His eyes darkened with amusement, and he chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"We'll finish this later, don't worry."

Gojo

Gojo’s feet dragged heavily as he entered the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, final sound. The weight of the mission still hung over him—bones aching, mind buzzing with residual adrenaline.

He didn’t want to think about the cursed spirits he'd just fought or the cursed techniques he'd barely been able to avoid using in full force. All he wanted now, all he craved, was the soft familiarity of home.

And you.

His wife.

There you were—curled up on the couch, your form relaxed and peaceful, your face lit by the flickering light of the TV screen. It looked like you'd fallen asleep while watching something, your body sinking into the cushions, soft and beautiful.

But then—

His eyes narrowed.

His eyes immediately fell to your left hand.

Empty.

No wedding ring. No engagement band.

His heart skipped a beat. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. The weight of exhaustion, the tightness in his chest, everything—it all vanished in the face of that empty ring finger. His mind instantly went blank, and then... panic.

Where the hell is it?

A thousand questions shot through his head at once, each one more suffocating than the last. His mouth went dry, and he stepped closer to you, his mind reeling. It didn’t make sense. You’d always worn your rings, no matter what.

During the mission he hadn't used his Six Eyes and scan everything in the house, to check on you, but.... He’d been distracted. Too focused on that cursed mission, on the job, on things he shouldn’t have let slip.

His eyes flicked back to your hand, that empty space where your ring should have been. His mind spiraled further into dark thoughts.

She... She took it off? But why?

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Was this the moment when everything changed? When you... left him?

He couldn't breathe. He couldn’t think.

Did she meet someone else?

His pulse quickened at the thought. He wanted to scream, to shout, but the silence around him felt suffocating. Every step closer to the couch felt like a thousand pounds pulling him down. He stopped in front of you, staring at your unconscious form, the way you seemed so... peaceful, like everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

What the hell is going on?

It was almost like a switch had flipped inside him—like something deep within him, something raw and protective, had been triggered. His anger, his fear—it boiled over. It had to be something. She wasn’t just going to forget her rings.

His voice was low, rough, as he bent down close to you, his tone colder than he meant it to be.

"Hey," he said, almost a hiss. "What the fuck is going on?"

His heart clenched at the coldness of his own words, but his fear was all-consuming. He needed answers. Now.

You stirred, your eyelids fluttering open at the sound of his voice, but it was the confusion in your gaze that stopped him for a second. For just a moment, it was like the anger and fear drained out of him, replaced with a spike of guilt. This wasn’t the way to approach you. He wasn’t supposed to be... scaring you. But he couldn’t help it.

What if I’m losing her?

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry from sleep, but the panic in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

"Satoru...?" Your voice was soft, laced with that sweet, familiar confusion he loved. The panic in his eyes, the intensity in the way he stared down at you—it wasn’t the Gojo you were used to. He looked almost... unhinged.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you pushed yourself up slowly, feeling the exhaustion still clinging to your body. There was a fleeting second of fear that rose in you—this wasn’t how he usually acted.

What’s going on?

The man who had always been the first to laugh in the face of danger, the man who could break down any barrier with a joke or a smile, was now standing there—almost trembling. This was no playful teasing. No, there was something else in the way his body stiffened, the way his voice cracked with uncertainty.

His voice was a harsh, cold rasp as he bent down closer, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he wanted.

“What the fuck is going on?” He tried to keep his voice from trembling, "Where’s your ring?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Your hand instinctively went to your finger, but it was bare. You frowned. "Oh..." The fog of sleep was lifting now, and the look on his face was making your heart race.

But before you could even say anything else, Gojo’s eyes narrowed, and he straightened up, suddenly tense.

"I’m not playing games, [Y/N]." He could feel the anger bubbling up again, his breath coming faster. "What the hell is going on? You’ve been in this house, and now you’re not wearing it? Are you seriously gonna tell me it’s some accident?" He gestured wildly, his frustration impossible to hide.

You recoiled slightly, caught off guard by his tone. The fear in his voice, the desperation that edged every word, it hit you hard. He was scared.

But you could feel it, too. You could feel the rage he was hiding beneath his frustration, the doubt gnawing at him, the belief that something was wrong—that he wasn’t good enough to keep you.

The thought almost made you ache. You couldn’t believe he’d think that. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, so terrified that his wife had... what? Cheated on him?

"Gojo," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I didn’t—I didn’t take it off for any reason like that." You looked at him, trying to calm his rapid breath. "I was cleaning the bathroom earlier... with bleach. I didn’t want to risk damaging the rings, so I took them off and put them in a little dish in there while I worked. I... I must’ve forgotten to put them back on after I collapsed on the couch."

The explanation was so simple, so mundane, that Gojo felt an overwhelming rush of relief flood through him. He closed his eyes and sank back onto the couch, rubbing his face with both hands.

You were just tired.

You hadn’t been out with someone else. You hadn’t thrown away everything they’d built together.

His mind had created a monster out of nothing. He had jumped to conclusions because he was weak, scared of losing the only person who mattered. He wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, and yet, here he was, completely unraveling over the thought of you slipping away from him.

"God," he muttered, voice breaking slightly. "I thought you... I thought I wasn’t enough for you. That maybe you'd—"

"Stop," you cut him off, pulling him close with a soft tug on his shirt. You pressed your forehead to his chest, feeling the tension in his shoulders. "Don’t even think that, Satoru." You wrapped your arms around him, grounding him. "You’re my everything. I wouldn’t throw that away."

Gojo’s arms tightened around you, his face buried in your hair as he exhaled a shaky breath. For a moment, neither of you said anything. Just the sound of your breathing and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.

When he finally pulled back, he cupped your face gently, his blue eyes searching yours with a mix of relief and affection. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Next time," he said softly, almost shyly, "just leave a note. Like, ‘I’m cleaning and definitely not inviting other men over,’ so I don’t go insane."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but you couldn’t help but laugh. "Yeah, I’ll do that."

Gojo pulled you back into his arms, this time much softer, as if the whole world could melt away in this moment. He could feel his heart finally steadying. You were here, you were safe. The rest of it didn’t matter.

He kissed the top of your head, whispering softly, "Just promise me one thing, okay?"

You looked up at him.

"Never scare me like that again."

You smiled, a soft, sleepy smile, and nodded.

"I promise."

Geto:

The last thing on your mind was the delicate gold band around your finger, the symbol of your marriage to Geto, which you had carefully removed so as not to get it covered in dirt.

Geto paced through the entrance, his brow furrowed with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. After being away on business for a few days, the first thing he was told upon his return was that something had happened with you—his wife—and that you weren’t wearing your wedding rings.

Before he could utter a word, one of his cult followers had nervously approached him, eyes wide with anxiety.

"Master Geto... We... we noticed the absence of her rings. The lady—"

"Where is she?" he snapped, his voice low, yet carrying an unsettling edge.

His follower hesitated for just a second before pointing toward the garden. "She's there, with your daughters."

Geto’s heart skipped a beat. He clenched his fists, a flood of emotions threatening to overtake him. Did you really... no, he refused to believe it. You couldn't be removing your rings over something so trivial.

He strode quickly, irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior. As he reached the garden, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

There you were, kneeling on the soft earth, laughing as his daughters ran circles around you, their giggles filling the air. You were covered in dirt from working in the garden all day.

You glanced up and saw him standing there, eyes dark with unspoken words. He was staring at you with a strange intensity.

“Suguru,” you said, wiping dirt from your cheek, and then you noticed the look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, hands gripping the edge of the stone wall with white-knuckled intensity. “What’s the matter?”

His gaze dropped to your bare fingers before snapping back to your face.

"Why are you not wearing your rings?" he asked, his tone colder than usual.

You blinked. The question caught you off guard, and a wave of amusement flooded over you.

“What?” you asked, incredulity mixed with humor. "I just didn’t want to get them dirty. I’ve been in the garden all day with the girls.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You think I care about that?" His voice rose a little, frustration bubbling to the surface. "You don't understand... how much it means to me—"

You stood up slowly, brushing your hands off and laughing softly. “Suguru, calm down. You’re acting like I’ve sold the rings for magic potions or something,” you teased, holding them out to him with a playful grin.

The sudden tension in the air seemed to break with your words. He stared at the rings, then back at you, his expression wavering between annoyance and relief. He wasn’t sure whether to be mad or laugh at himself for overreacting.

But when you walked toward him, digging in your pocket, then placing the rings back on his hand with an amused smirk, he couldn’t help but release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pulled you into a tight embrace, his chin resting against the top of your head.

"I was worried, okay?" he muttered. "I've done so much for you, and I... I couldn’t figure out what was going on."

You snorted, wrapping your arms around him. "You’re a disaster sometimes, you know that?"

"I’m just... protective," he mumbled, his voice now laced with a touch of vulnerability.

"You’re sweet," you said, smiling up at him, "but a little too protective for your own good sometimes."

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small, tender smile from forming on his lips.

“I can’t help it when it comes to you... And these,” he added, tapping the rings, “are more important than you realize.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing the edges of his rings.

"I know, Suguru. But I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t want to ruin them in the dirt. I still love you just as much."

His hands gently cupped your face as he gazed down at you. “I know. But if you ever take them off again, make sure I’m there when you do."

You raised an eyebrow. “You want to be the one to take them off for me?” you teased.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe I’ll start taking them off myself, then.”

You laughed, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the lips. His arms tightened around you, the world outside of the garden fading into the background.

Your laugh echoed in the air, soft and sweet, as the tension between you melted into a comfortable warmth. Suguru leaned his forehead against yours, his breath a little ragged from the release of his worries.

"You're impossible, you know that?" you whispered, pressing your lips against his.

"Only when it comes to you," he replied softly, his smile genuine and fond. "But I love you anyway."

Toji:

It was a late afternoon when Toji returned home, exhausted but relieved to be done with another job. He stepped into the quiet apartment, the faint smell of Megumi’s favorite snacks still lingering in the air. It had been a good day for the boy, he’d told Toji earlier that he’d had fun at the park with you.

Toji was just about to toss his jacket aside and relax when something on the bathroom counter caught his eye. His wedding ring. But... not hers. Her band was sitting alone next to the sink, glinting in the dim light, empty.

His heart skipped a beat.

His stomach twisted. He couldn’t breathe for a second.

He picked up her ring, turning it over in his hands as if some answer would magically appear. But nothing came. The silence in the bathroom was suffocating, and his chest began to tighten as his mind spiraled into chaos.

She wouldn't... But the thought was there, like a seed growing inside him.

Shit. Not again.

It had happened once before—his ex, the woman who had broken his trust in ways that still haunted him. That memory burned his skin like acid as the anger surged through him. He could feel the old rage coming back, the bitterness of betrayal cutting deeper than ever before.

He paced in a circle, trying to make sense of it. His mind raced—had she really gone that far? Were they just another statistic, another couple destroyed by his own mistrust? He couldn’t imagine it. Not with her.

But there it was: the absence of her ring. What else was he supposed to think?

His hands trembled as he grabbed his phone, fists clenching around it as he typed out a text to Shiu: She’s gone. I fucking knew it. Packing. She’s been seeing someone else.

The words were harsh, but they felt right in the moment. The ring was gone, the reminder of what they had was now nothing but a cruel joke. He stormed into the bedroom, ripping open the closet doors. His mind was working too fast to think straight—he started shoving clothes into a bag, his chest tight. He should have never trusted her. Never allowed himself to be vulnerable.

He allowed her to become a stepmother to Megumi, let her get close to his son. And now, this. How could I be so stupid? he thought bitterly.

Toji’s blood boiled, and his mind spiraled further into the pit of grief and disbelief. He’d let his guard down, let her become a part of his life, a part of his family, and now this? He slammed a fist against the wall, shaking with fury.

An hour passed. He didn’t care. The world outside continued as usual, but in here, in his heart, everything was falling apart. He couldn’t do this again. He wasn’t going to let someone else ruin him.

Then, the sound of the door clicking open interrupted his spiral.

He turned, eyes wild, ready to unleash all of his pent-up rage.

And then he saw you. Megumi was holding your hand, looking at him confused, but his gaze didn’t linger long on the kid.

“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously, eyeing the half-packed bag by the door.

"Where the hell is your ring?" Toji's voice was low, laced with the venom he was trying to suppress. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring her down. "Where's your fucking wedding ring?"

She blinked at him. "What?"

Toji's glare didn’t soften, and he lifted her ring from the counter, letting it dangle between his fingers. "I thought we were past this bullshit. Thought you’d at least have the decency to—"

She deadpanned, and without a word, raised her hand to his face. His eyes followed her hand, expecting some gesture of defiance, some excuse. But then he froze, seeing the bandaged pinky and ring finger on her hand, the fabric wrapped tightly in place.

Her gaze was flat, her voice devoid of humor as she stated, “I didn’t want to lose my damn finger. It’s swollen, and I couldn’t take the risk of it getting worse. I thought you’d be worried about that.”

Toji stared at her hand, feeling the rage that had consumed him moments before start to fade, replaced by a dull ache in his chest.

“You—” He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. He dropped her ring back onto the counter, as if the weight of it suddenly felt too much.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his head lowering, suddenly feeling like a fool. His fists unclenched, and he rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes right now, but his voice cracked with regret. “I thought... I thought you were—”

"Cheating on you?" You finished the sentence for him with a quiet, amused tone, raising an eyebrow. You slowly walked over to him, your expression softening.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to hide the embarrassment in his voice. “I fucked up, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Toji... really? You thought I was gonna leave?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “I’ll make you dinner, okay? Just... next time, try asking before packing your bags.”

He let out a defeated sigh, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. “Yeah, yeah. I overreacted. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You kissed him... which quickly turned into more, until:

"Ew."

You broke the kiss, laughing lightly.

Sukuna:

It was an ordinary day at the palace—at least, that’s what it seemed like. The sun streamed through the large paper windows, casting a soft light on the traditional tatami mats, where you were seated, diligently working on your calligraphy with Uraume. The brush glided over the paper as the delicate strokes formed beautiful characters, ink staining the tips of your fingers as you focused.

Your wedding ring, that simple yet precious band that bound you to the King of Curses, was nowhere to be seen. It was placed on the nearby wooden table to avoid smudging ink on its gleaming surface.

Sukuna’s voice broke the silence.

"Where is it?"

The low, thunderous tone could only mean one thing: Sukuna was furious. His eyes—four of them—narrowed as they scanned you, focusing on your left hand where the ring should’ve been. His breath quickened as the pressure in the room thickened.

Uraume, sensing the tension, stepped back slowly, not daring to make a sound. You, however, remained seated, doing your best to hide the small smile tugging at your lips. You couldn’t help it—Sukuna? Jealous? Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

"What are you talking about?" you asked innocently, not lifting your gaze from the ink-stained paper.

"The ring, woman," Sukuna growled. "You know exactly what I mean. Where is it?" His voice shook with a barely contained fury as he approached.

You could almost feel the heat radiating off of him. The air around him crackled with murderous intent, but it was impossible to ignore the mix of frustration and… confusion? Ah, he didn’t know what to think, and that only made it funnier.

"I left it off for now," you replied casually, trying to mask your amusement. "I didn’t want to get ink on it while I was working with Uraume."

"Don’t lie," Sukuna hissed, his four arms crossing tightly in front of him. "You’re telling me you, a lowly human, can’t even remember where you left your precious wedding ring?" His voice was cutting, sharp as a blade.

You almost snorted, but you swallowed the laugh just in time. Oh, Sukuna really was something else when he was jealous. The sheer audacity of him to think you’d even remotely be unfaithful was beyond hilarious.

You stood up slowly, turning to face him as he loomed over you like an ominous cloud. His eyes were wild, like he was ready to destroy everything in his path.

"Is that why you’re so upset?" you teased, the corners of your mouth curling up. "You really think I would take off my ring to… go play around with someone else?"

Sukuna’s gaze flickered. His four arms twitched as if to lash out at you, but he held himself back. The tension in the air was suffocating.

"Don’t play with me," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "What kind of fool do you think I am?"

You couldn’t help yourself anymore. The laughter bubbled up inside you, and you laughed, covering your mouth as you did so. Sukuna stared at you, his eyes burning with confusion and fury. He looked like a king who’d just been betrayed, but somehow even more terrifying in that moment.

"Oh, come on," you teased further, walking up to him and standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "You didn’t seem to think I was a ‘lowly human’ a couple of days ago when you were pounding into me like a savage."

Sukuna’s eyes widened in surprise, and his face turned a shade darker, his body stiffening with rage.

"Don’t you dare," he spat, his four arms reaching out and grabbing you by the waist with a force that would make most humans break. But you? You weren’t just any human. You were his human.

"And now you’re talking about it?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low. "You’re trying to make me look like a fool, huh?"

Despite his anger, you couldn’t suppress your grin.

"You’re the one who’s acting like a fool, Sukuna. Jealousy doesn’t suit you."

His eyes narrowed further, but he didn’t admit he was wrong. No, he wouldn’t do that. Instead, with one swift motion, he picked you up, his grip unyielding. His four arms surrounded you, holding you close.

"You’re lucky I don’t kill every single person in this palace for daring to let you out of my sight without that damn ring on your finger," he muttered through gritted teeth.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The fact that Sukuna—the Sukuna—was losing his temper over something as trivial as a ring was almost too ridiculous. Almost.

"All this over a ring?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, still smiling. "Really, Sukuna? You almost killed everyone because I took off my ring for a couple of hours?"

He didn’t respond, but his grip tightened around you, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you toward your shared quarters. As he walked, you wrapped your arms around his neck, not able to stop the teasing smile on your face.

"You’re kind of cute when you're jealous, you know that?" you teased, nuzzling his neck lightly.

Sukuna’s eyes flickered to you, the hint of a growl rumbling in his chest, but he didn’t say anything. The king of curses was undeniably a jealous man, even if he refused to admit it.

And when he finally laid you down on the futon in your quarters, his hands were soft—almost gentle—as he placed a hand on your cheek, his expression still dark but… not as angry as before.

"I’m not going to let you out of my sight again," he murmured, eyes burning with possessiveness. "You’re mine."

You smiled, reaching up to touch his face. "I’m yours," you whispered back.

And just like that, all the tension in the air seemed to melt away, leaving only the comfort of being together.

Shiu:

Shiu Kong was not a man prone to sentimental gestures or overt displays of affection. His love was quiet, steady, and often hidden beneath his sharp tongue and stern demeanor. But he was observant—painfully so. It was this keen eye for detail that had always served him well in his work. Today, however, it left him grappling with a tight knot of unease that coiled around his chest like a curse.

You hadn’t been wearing your wedding ring.

Shiu noticed it that morning when he passed you in the kitchen. You were distracted, bustling around with your usual energy, and when you handed him his coffee, his sharp eyes caught the faint, bare line on your finger.

No glint of the ring he’d placed there.

It wasn’t like you to forget something like that. Shiu wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but the thought nagged at him throughout the day. The image of your bare hand replayed in his mind as he handled the paperwork on his desk, and when the hours dragged on, so did his thoughts.

Were you upset about something? Did the ring bother you? Or—no, that was ridiculous—was it deliberate?

His workday felt endless. By the time he stepped into the apartment, his shoulders were tight with tension. Shiu kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie, his heart heavier than he cared to admit.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, bright and cheerful. “You’re home! Dinner’s almost ready.”

He stepped into the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. But you knew him too well to miss the way his brow furrowed or the faint stiffness in his posture.

“You okay?” you asked, tilting your head.

Shiu’s lips pressed into a thin line. He never shied away from confrontation, but this… he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. Still, he was Shiu Kong, and hesitation wasn’t in his nature.

“You weren’t wearing your ring this morning,” he said bluntly, his voice even but laced with an edge of something vulnerable.

You blinked, startled, before looking down at your hand as if just realizing the absence yourself. “Oh!” You quickly held up both hands, palms open. “It’s not what you think. I took them to the jeweler to get cleaned today. I didn’t want to forget and leave them on, so I took them off last night.”

His gaze softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he exhaled a slow, almost imperceptible breath. “That’s it?”

“Of course that’s it!” you said, laughing. “What, did you think I was mad at you or something?”

Shiu clicked his tongue, his usual deadpan expression returning, though the faintest flicker of relief danced in his eyes. “Tch. You could’ve mentioned it. I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

You stepped closer, reaching for his hand and squeezing it with a warm smile. “Sorry, I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

You winked and he grumbled something under his breath, but his fingers curled around yours, holding on just a little tighter than usual.

Later that night, when you slipped the ring back onto your finger and flashed it proudly at him, Shiu allowed himself the barest smirk. He didn’t say anything, of course, but the way his hand lingered on your back when he walked past spoke volumes.

Maybe he wasn’t the romantic type, but damn if he didn’t love seeing that ring on your finger.

A/N: oki so this was an attempt, i dunno if this is any good but hey, you live you learn

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zara-renata · 2 days ago

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So I had one holiday prompt that I couldn't include in the big holiday prompt fic I posted last week, and I also have been receiving some really sweet and cute ideas that weren't exactly requests, but the ideas were so nice that I wanted to write something for them. I've gathered them into one story that I hope isn't disappointing. I had intended to do separate, cute little drabbles, but I had a bad day the other day and somehow uh, really dark angst happened, and then I used the ideas people sent for the comfort half of the fic? So please forgive me for just... taking it as dark as you can go before including the sweet, cute ideas that people requested. I hope you like the result anyway, although please read the content warnings. Several of the people who sent requests/ideas apologized for doing so, as if sending the ideas was 'too much', but you don't have to apologize for sending asks. My requests are open, and I like seeing everyone's ideas even if I don't end up being able to write for them, or if I tweak them a little to make them work for the story that comes out of my brain despite my best laid plans to stick to an outline.

The river | ao3 | masterlist

It's Christmas Eve, you're at the end of your rope after an absolutely awful year, and you decide to end it all after pushing everyone in your life away. Sylus pulls you from the brink and convinces you to keep going.

Sylus x fem reader, Sylus x mc, hurt/comfort, angst, grief, banter, fluff. CW: attempted suicide, depressed thoughts, NSFW, Sylus penetrating reader (this is not sex ed, do not follow these idiots' example, no discussion of condom or birth control, this is fantasy and we're not going to worry about that in the fic)

Ask #1 You asked to keep sending silly little ideas for you to write so I thought I'd give my own request! After Caleb and Gran (supposedly) die it's pretty much canon that MC refuses help from their friends and isolates themself in certain ways. I always imagine MC sometimes sees Sylus as "the only one they have left" since he is the only one who goes out of his way to check up on MC. But MC kinda grows to resent this and has a moment when their drunk/really going through it and basically ask Sylus why he doesn't leave them be so they can just rot away in peace. Sorry if this is too lengthy or I'm overstepping! Brain worms are getting to me

Ask #2 Okay, so random thoughts here, but do you know that superstition that’s like, “the places where you have moles on your body show where your lover kissed you in a past life”? But like… can you imagine what it would be like if MC had a mole in the exact spot where Sylus bit her during Abyssal Mark (cus I have one there lol) and then that superstition randomly gets brought up, only for MC to show him that mole and Sylus is just s h o o k??? N e way that’s my random thoughts lol (sorry if this is a lot 💀)

Ask #3 I love the way you write the MC and I find myself relating to them at least 99% of the time. Sometimes I just imagine them giving Sylus one of those "Do you like me? Circle yes or no!" Love letters to Sylus because they are terrified of rejection -> i wrote the MC in this story really, really depressed, so if this didn't hit the spot for you in terms of fear of rejection, let me know, and I can include your prompt in another story idea I had before this one that's a lot lighter and sweeter before I got hit by the angst truck that this fic turned out to be. just let me know!

Ask #4 the last holiday prompt! -> idk if anyone sent it yet but from the xmas prompt list, i would love to see what you do with number 8 -> I'm so sorry that this is what I did with it, I hope you like it anyway😭

Thank you everyone who has sent me ideas! If you've sent me a request and I haven't answered it yet, it's because I'm still intending to do something with it.

Here you are. Again.

At the end of a long day. A long week. A long year.

A long rope.

It’s the dark, this time of year.

Maybe.

You’re restless. You’ve passed through the Deepspace Hunters Association doors for the last time this year. Empty days of leave stretch before you.

Normally, it would still be light out, leaving this early. But not now, this deep into the year—it’s already full night, as you leave work early.

The bright lights of the building pour over your upturned face as you look back, just once. You don’t know what for. You’ve successfully severed most of the ties you had built before.

Before everything.

Tara, Xavier. After Caleb, Josephine—they reached out, over and over, and you bit their outstretched hands with your sharp, sharp teeth.

You snapped enough times that they keep their distance, now.

They’re still kind.

Tara still comes, sits on your desk, shares tidbits of gossip during the workday. But she no longer invites you along to karaoke, to after-work drinks with other coworkers.

You and Xav work in sync, as you eliminate wanderers. He walks you to your door at the end of the day. But he no longer offers to lend you books. No longer invites you to the bookstore, or to try new restaurants.

You watch his broad back as he walks away from you, down your apartment building’s hallway. He feels as far away as a star in the velvet night sky.

It’s not their fault. You did this.

You wanted this.

You turn away from the warm light beaming from the Association as you leave early, the Christmas lights glittering in the windows, the holiday party you’re skipping still in full swing in the open, sleek company restaurant area on the ground floor. A division-wide shindig, to celebrate the end of the year, the holidays.

The night is cold. Fairy lights, nets of bright pinpricks in the dark night, cover the trees lining the sidewalk. Decorative light displays stretch across the busy road at periodic intervals, over the canals that parallel the streets, the gondolas and tour-boats festive under their own lights, red ribbons flapping in the cold winter wind.

You think about how they never recovered a body.

Only Josephine’s ashes fill an urn, sitting in a cold niche of a quiet columbarium. Caleb’s urn is empty.

You start walking, fast, along the busy sidewalk. People are out shopping, scurrying to tie up last minute errands before the city shuts down for the holiday tomorrow.

You want to unzip your coat. Unzip your uniform. Unzip your skin, your ribcage. Leave all these pieces of yourself behind, for others to puzzle over. To sweep up with the rest of the refuse left over from festive party goers on the street. You want to dissipate in the cold winter air like your breath with each cursed inhale, exhale.

You settle for beginning to jog to the metro station, your feet carrying you faster, faster, your boots heavy on the sidewalk. You see it lit in the distance, but you can’t stand the thought of being underground right now. Buried alive, with all the other people. You sprint past it.

You’re graceful enough to duck and weave, not disturb anyone else, until the crowds thin.

You’re running, running, the city is streaming past, like the tears from your eyes. Wet from the cold, because you haven’t cried since waking up, your ears deafening, Caleb’s silver chain glittering in the firelight on the walk up to your grandmother’s burning house.

Tears won’t bring a body back.

You don’t know how much longer you can stand this.

The days, one after another. Alarm, moving through the dark to get to work. Moving through the dark to get back to your apartment at the end of the day.

The pain—your only constant, now. The only thing you expect, have to look forward to, day after blurred day.

An echoing emptiness, like an urn without ashes. An emptiness that feels so full that your skin could burst with it.

You think about your apartment. The festive city outside its windows. The half-opened bottle of wine in the fridge, the only thing in it.

You veer from your neighborhood. Keep running. You’re sweating under your winter coat, your heavy Hunter uniform. It doesn’t matter.

You run, and run, and run, until you run out of streets, sidewalk.

Just the river, wide and black. There is a bridge, soaring over the water, in the distance. Its lights reflected in the water, along with the urban nightscape. Stars above, stars below.

You could drown in them.

You look at the bridge.

You could drown in it all.

There’s no one left, after all.

Who will miss you?

You slow. Stop.

Your breath is heavy in the quiet air. Fairy lights sparkle here, too. Pretty swooping light displays top each lamppost along the river path.

You would have gone to identify the body, as you did with Gran. She didn’t look like herself. Not even a sleeping version of herself. They did their best, reconstructing her face. But it wasn’t the stitches, the bruising. It was that she simply wasn’t there anymore. Like a stranger’s body on display. An empty house after the residents have been forced to flee in a night of unimaginable violence.

But running your hands through her hair, one last time. It soothed something in you. Enough that you could breathe in the cold mortuary air. Could nod. Could watch as they covered her again. As they escorted you out into the bustling hospital hallways, to stand under cold fluorescent lights. To stare vacantly at the wall, until you felt a strange, familiar feeling. You looked up, saw Zayne watching you, at the end of the long hallway. You stared at him, memorizing his beautiful face. His dark hair. His severe, cold loveliness. You let yourself look one last time, and he let you. Through the people filling the hallway, each walking with purpose, they were a blur and he was across the world, across time, a part of your past that should never have reappeared in your present. It hurt too much, to look at his beautiful, distant face. He left you behind, once. He should have stayed gone. You can’t stand to experience the loss again, the loss you felt every time he listened to your heart, expressionless, a stranger with a beautiful, familiar face from your past, a past in which Caleb was still alive.

You looked at Zayne one last time, across a bustling hallway in a place full of life, of death, and he let you. You then turned, headed to the reception desk. You switched doctors, hospitals.

You blocked his number, so you’ll never know if he sent you a text, tried to call and ask why, after. He let you walk out. Which is as it should be.

You wanted this.

The water churns under the whipping wind, the fast current. It looks so cold. Cold enough to numb. Cold enough to finally put out the fire that’s been burning in you, ever since you woke up, your ears deafening, Caleb’s necklace shimmering in the flames.

You think of running your hands through his hair. Something the fire robbed you of—it would have been your first time, your last time. He would pat your head. Call you pipsqueak. Ignore your protests to not mess up your hair, to not treat you like a little kid. But he would always duck out of the way anytime you tried to return the favor, tease him, tousle his hair. His pretty brunette hair that always looked so soft. Now you’ll never know how soft it really was.

You look at the water. You look at the bridge. The car headlights meteors streaking along their guardrail-gated orbit.

You think about going home. Waking up tomorrow, Christmas Day. The silence. You think about going back to work. Killing wanderer after wanderer. Wondering which one will be the one to finally kill you.

The days blur. The constant emptiness echoing inside your apartment, inside your ribcage.

You look at the water. You look at the bridge. You imagine running your hands through Caleb’s hair for the first, the last time. A tender goodbye you’ll never have, because they never found his body.

There’s no one left to miss you.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You fish it out.

Rafayel no longer calls, or texts you words. He just sends photos, every once in a while. Mundane details of everyday life, rendered extraordinary through his artist’s eye. Paintings he’s working on. A foreign landscape. Leaves glistening with dew. The moon, waxing full.

You haven’t answered in months. You look at each one, tuck your phone back in your pocket.

You look back at the water. Think about taking a photo of the reflected stars, the thin crescent moon in the black waves, think of sending him one last response. But even you’re not that cruel. You don’t want him to realize later, that he was the last one to say anything to you.

You don’t open his text. You block his number. Tuck the phone back into your pocket.

You start to walk toward the bridge. As you walk, you keep your eyes on the path, its edges. Decorative, smooth stones line the walkway along the river embankment. You pick them up, here and there, as you walk. Slip them into your coat pockets.

Eventually you run out of room in your coat pockets, add more to your pants pockets.

You turn your eyes back to the bridge, looming now.

You think of your empty fridge. Josephine’s empty face. An empty urn.

You’re ready to scoop out what’s left of you, leave it behind on the sidewalk, smoldering as the cold night finally smothers the endless fire, the only thing left inside you. Maybe it will warm someone else, in passing. A last good deed, from you to someone in the world.

A metal staircase, leading up, up, into the black sky, mirroring the dark river, your heavy boots echoing. The cars are loud. If you close your eyes, they could be the rushing waves of an ocean, instead of a river of traffic, above a river of water.

You keep your eyes open. You’re not going to pretend that you’re not doing what you’re doing, now. You’re not at the ocean, its pure salt air drifting through your hair, now whipping around your face. You’re on a busy, exhaust- and oil-stained commuter bridge on the night before Christmas, having cut your ties with everyone you have always known never wanted or needed you in the first place. What’s the difference if a wanderer kills you tomorrow, or if something kills you today? Just empty time, blurry days, photo frames without pictures.

The guardrail isn’t so high as one would guess. It’s an easy step up. An easy step over. You stand, looking back over the city where you were raised. The city that contains all the past versions of yourself, from the moment you were pulled screaming into life from a mother whose face you’ll never know, through to now, an empty shell of a person. If your fellow hunters could see inside you, they’d mistake you for a wanderer and put you down, like the scientists who experimented on you, your own grandmother, did years ago.

Since learning that Gran was one of the people who fucked with your heart, you have often resented that she and her colleagues weren’t successful in finishing the job years ago, when they had the chance.

But now you wonder, standing over a dark, freezing river that reflects what’s inside you now, maybe they did finish it. You just didn’t realize it. Not till tonight, as you look down in the mirror of the rushing water, far below.

Even now, the tears won’t come.

What use are tears, when they can’t bring a body back. When they can’t wash it clean. When they can’t lovingly touch it, one last time, soft strands of hair under your fingers.

Your tears, your heart, your suffering, your existence—useless, for the entirety of a life you can only half remember.

You wonder if it’s the dark, tonight. Why tonight, and not yesterday? Why not six months ago?

Because it took that long to sever the ties binding you here?

Now you are assured, no one will miss you. It will take days before anyone even notices your absence because of your holiday leave.

You hope that they’ll assume it was a wanderer. Bad luck. Wrong time, wrong place. A modest little plaque on the wall of heroes, even though you know you’re no hero.

In the end, it doesn’t matter why it’s tonight, and not any other night.

No need to be dramatic, pretending there’s meaning in the meaningless.

You put your hands on the guardrail, the metal colder than your freezing hands. You lift a heavy booted foot. Take a deep breath.

It’s so cold. It will be over before you know it. You’ve read that from this height, it’s the impact, and not the drowning.

You’ve always had dreams of flying.

You lift your other foot, arms thrown wide for balance, just for a moment. The world feels so big, here at the end. The stars above, the stars below, the doubled crescent moon. You’re ready to drown in it all.

You only have one hope.

I don’t want to be reborn.

You breathe, empty your mind of Tara’s earnest smile, Xavier’s soft laughter, Zayne’s steady hands, Rafayel’s flashing violet eyes. Josephine’s empty face. Caleb’s soft, untouchable hair.

You let yourself fall.

You’re flying. Your heart is soaring. Your heart is seizing. The relief, the terror, mingle. You can’t scream, even if you wanted to.

You’re flying and it’s everything you ever dreamt, until it’s not.

Your body jerks, abruptly. Your hair whips down, lashes your face. You grunt with the impact against… nothing. You’re suspended over the water, drifting in the air. The wind tugs at your stone-weighted coat.

You twist away from the water, craning your neck to look up, up, back at the bridge.

You have withstood the uselessness of tears for almost a year now. But now, you want to cry so badly the pain of the need steals your breath.

You knew he was cruel. You knew he was merciless. You knew that he hated you. You just didn’t realize how much, until now.

You hang suspended over a dark, rushing river, wrapped in scarlet and ink tendrils, looking up into the sneering face of the one person you refused to think about as you made your final decision tonight, at the end of your desolate, half-remembered life.

His evol begins to lift you, away from the merciful impact, the numbing water. You, your past, your heart, the memories and despair and stones filling your pockets seem weightless, wrapped in his power.

His usual mask of bored indifference is gone. He is finally showing you his true face, what he must always feel when he looks at you—fury and disgust.

He says nothing, as he pulls you from the depths, back into the world. As he sets you gently back on your heavy feet on the sidewalk in front of him. His evol evaporates, winter breath in the wind.

He looks at your face with his wine-dark eyes. Looks at the water. Flicks his gaze back to your face.

You will not cry in front of this man. This man who hates you so much he won’t even let you seek the peace of death. Death, which has always been too good for you, but not for the people you loved the most.

You clench your jaw as the fire re-ignites in your chest. The flames you had tried so hard to scoop out, to leave behind.

You don’t want to feel this much anymore.

If you speak, you know you’ll cry. You can’t stand it.

Maybe, with enough repetition, he’ll get bored. He gets bored so easily, after all.

You turn, try to launch yourself over the guardrail again.

This time, it’s not his evol, but his arms that wrap around you, pull you back from the fall.

You struggle, throwing your elbows, kicking, throwing your head back, hoping to catch his perfect nose, break it under the hardness of your stupid, useless skull.

He says nothing, just holds you tighter, wraps one arm around your waist, the other over your chest, his big hand cradling the side of your face, pressing your head back into his own chest, as he hunches over you, an immovable wall of warmth. As you fight to break free of his hold, you are wrapped in his scent—cloves, gun oil.

Sylus.

Eventually, you tire yourself out—despite all of your strength, it is no match for his. He holds you against himself easily, as you pant, lungs burning with the effort, the sweat warm once again under your Hunter’s uniform. You become aware of a whimpering, the keening of a wounded animal.

It’s coming from your throat. Your eyes burn. You go limp in his arms.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. A voice like warm liquor in your veins. You think he’ll let you go. You prepare, hoping you can get to the guardrail again. Maybe this time he won't be so fast. But instead of releasing you, getting away from you as fast as he can, the arm around your waist moves up, cradling your upper back. He scoops his other arm under your legs, holds you against himself like you’re a delicate princess, if you were anyone else. But because it’s you, he’s probably just holding you like a useless sack of shit that would be too annoying to drop. He begins to walk, his stride steady, brisk.

He looks down into your face. “I bought a dress for you. Silk. A design like stars over a flowing river. That’s the only river you’re allowed in tonight, kitten.”

You stare at him. His breath puffs white in the cold air. The face of disgusted fury is replaced by his usual bored mask.

Why is he doing this to you? He wanted to kill you, just a few months ago. Why not let you do the job for him?

He is the only person in your life who didn’t take the hint. Who kept showing up, after you made it clear that you didn’t want their presence anymore. That you couldn’t handle the ties, because ties become nooses, snapping your neck when the other person leaves you behind.

When he showed up where you were, in a ‘coincidental’ meeting on the street, on a jog, you would turn, move in the other direction. He would match your stride, doggedly pestering you with questions, asking you about your evening or weekend plans, telling you silly stories from the N109 Zone, Luke and Kieran’s latest antics. Sometimes he’d just walk in contemplative silence, thumbs hooked through his belt loops, or jog quietly next to you, never losing his breath, never complaining about the pace.

When you would routinely see him at various restaurants you were headed to in order to pick up takeout, you’d leave your food, immediately turning and hurrying away. When the same food was delivered to your door half an hour later, you’d refuse to answer, letting the confused and irritated delivery man leave. A half hour after that, the same man would be back, yell through the door that he had instructions to leave the food even if no one answered, and then he’d make good on his promise. You were faced with the choice of either letting the food go to waste, or eating it guiltily at your kitchen island.

No matter how many times you told the delivery person of the almost daily packages you received with no return address that you didn’t want to accept delivery, they would always insist that their instructions were to deliver regardless of recipient response. You were welcome to bin the items after receipt, but if you didn’t accept, the packages would just pile so high outside of your door that you couldn’t reach your apartment anymore.

You would accept, and then donate whatever exquisite item was inside to women’s shelters, children’s homes, university museums, soup kitchens, fundraiser auctions. No matter how clear it was that you wouldn’t accept anything from him, Sylus never stopped sending you gifts.

When you were sick, he’d show up personally, barge into your apartment when you were too tired to look at the doorbell camera before answering, a duffel bag gripped in his big hand filled with fever reducing medicine, homemade soup from his home chef, painkillers, hot water bottles, cooling pads, muscle pads, vitamins. He’d lounge on your couch, manspreading, insisting that he wouldn’t leave until he saw you swallow the pills and drink a gigantic glass of water.

He’d wait until you lay back down on your messy bed, until you fell asleep. He’d be gone when you woke again, but your apartment would be clean and your fridge and freezer would be stuffed full of healthy pre-prepared food.

You were half-convinced he was just buttering, fattening his prey before getting bored and mercifully ending its life.

Tonight, you are now fully convinced.

“Did your tongue freeze in your mouth?” he asks, descending the stairs you had just walked up, thinking it was your last time ascending them. “Do you need mouth-to-mouth to warm it up again?”

You scowl at him, at how appealing the idea of Sylus’s tongue in your mouth is, even now. You hate yourself, your traitorous body for being drawn to him, even now. “What’s the point of talking, when you never listen?” you grind out, your throat sore. You hadn’t realized how much your animal wailing had wrecked your throat. At least the tears are no longer so close to the surface that they’re threatening to spill.

“I listen to every word out of your beautiful mouth,” he counters serenely, with that same inexplicable kindness that makes your heart hurt. So at odds with how you know he must really feel about you. “I just listen to more than your mouth in order to hear what you’re really saying.”

“What?” You stare at his beautiful face, the way the lamplight illuminates its sharp features for a brief moment, before the night swallows it again as he moves between lampposts on his way… somewhere. Back the way you just came from.

He spares you a glance. “Your mouth says one thing, while the rest of you is screaming something else.”

You feel the blood draining from your face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

One corner of his beautiful mouth lifts. “Don’t play dumb, kitten. You’re too smart for it to be convincing.”

You were just falling into the river. You were just about to be free. How did you get here again? In this man’s arms, his smug, roguish smile filling you with the unease of being seen.

“I mean, it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more honest about the fact that you want people to fight for you, right?”

You begin to struggle again, shame lancing through you, making your body unbearable to be in. You know it’s weak, to have wanted so desperately that the people you were carving from your life would see what you were doing and stop you, place their hands over yours holding the cleaver, gently push it down, down, until it dropped from your grasp—how desperately you wanted them to step into your space, hold you tightly, just like this man who sees right through you is holding you now. You wanted Tara to keep inviting you out with your ridiculous colleagues, to sing your heart out at shitty karaoke clubs, to forcibly drag you to sleepovers and arcade nights. You wanted Xavier to push himself into your apartment, try to bake something horrible in your oven, sheepishly offer to go to the bakery with you instead when the fire alarm inevitably went off. You wanted Zayne to walk through the crowd to reach you at the other end of the hallway after you identified Josephine’s body, to ask to take your hand, to ask how you were doing, even though you knew you wouldn’t have been able to answer. You wanted Rafayel to keep inventing excuses for you to visit his studio, to keep insisting that he needed you to accompany him to expositions and fancy lunches as his bodyguard.

But none of them did in the end, and that’s okay. You kept pushing them away, because your terror of their leaving was apparently bigger than your need for their presence in your life, and at least if they were already gone, as they inevitably would be, you’d finally be free.

But the last person you would want to see this utterly humiliating need inside you, exposing you like this, is the one looking down at you right now with deceptively soft, all-seeing eyes.

You know the feeling, this need, of pulling away and pulling away and then being heartbroken when people finally let you is weak, and pathetic.

You may experience weak and pathetic feelings, but you’re not weak or pathetic. Not at your core. You were prepared to do what was necessary, to save yourself from the pain of your emptiness, the fire raging inside your chest. You weren’t asking anything of anyone. You were doing it all on your own.

Not a burden.

Never a fucking burden.

You clench your teeth, buck in Sylus’s arms.

He just holds you tightly, a straightjacket for the insanity that you’re feeling, the insanity of this man, out of all the people in your life, stripping you of your masks, flaying you so that all of your most tender, shameful parts are exposed to both him and yourself.

“Stop that. You’re just going to tire yourself further, when I need you tonight.”

Of course. The quid pro quo. He helped you with the auction, the Aether Core. Now you owe him. He doesn’t give a fuck if you live or die—he just can’t let one of his assets destroy itself before it fulfills his purpose.

You go limp in his arms. Turn your head away from him.

He continues his train of thought. “No, it wouldn’t kill you to tell the truth to your friends, so you decided to take matters into your own hands, huh? Telling the people in your life that you actually need them wouldn’t kill you, so why bother, right, when you can just jump off of a fucking bridge?” His voice sounds like the night you met him. Controlled anger. Disgust. Accusation.

Then there’s something wrong with her.

You thought you had killed everything inside of you already. The yearning for human connection. The kindness of a friend. Family holding you in their arms. You thought you had scooped out most of it, even as some of it rekindled when he pulled you back from the fall.

But the way you’re hurting now, at the memory of his hate, the reminder that the people you love won’t fight for you even if it would be fighting against you, and that this man, for all of his false generosity, never cared for you from the beginning, that his gifts and his visits were all what you knew them to be, all along—a bored predator toying with its prey before using it and consuming it.

You let your thoughts drift back to the bridge, push your pain away. Feed it to the fire. When he’s done with you, maybe you won’t even have to jump.

“Just shut up, Sylus. I’ll help you with your problem tonight. Just promise me you’ll toss me over yourself, when you’re done with me,” you tell the night, because you still can’t bring yourself to look at him.

He stops walking. The wind is so cold against your face. You wish he’d snap your neck, right now. You’re so fucking tired.

“Look at me.” His voice is low. Menacing.

You watch the water. Wonder how long it would take if you just walked out into it, without jumping. Just walk in with your stone-weighted coat and let the cold paralyze you, the current pull you under.

“Look at me, my heart,” he whispers. The change in his tone, his bizarre endearment, has you turning your head, looking up into his face. “That is one promise I can never make you.” He looks like he’s in pain. You don’t know why. He leans down, rests his forehead against yours, hunching his big shoulders, lifting your body in his arms so he can meet you. His breath is warm against your lips. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

You want to snort. It’s rich, coming from him—the same man who is telling you not to tell him to shut up, after all the things he said to you as he starved you, strangled you.

“Please don’t tell me to kill you. To hurt you. That hurts me.”

You stare up into his face. See the sincerity in his eyes. The wind whips your hair. He wasn’t upset that you told him to shut up, but that you asked him to kill you? “What does it matter? Aren’t you going to, in the end?”

“Why would I stop you tonight, if I wanted you to die?”

Of course he won’t answer outright. When has Sylus Qin ever answered a direct question?

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Why bother stopping me, unless you just need to use me and then be done with me? I can’t be that irreplaceable. Just get someone else to put on the dress, and let me get on with my fucking life. Someone who you can train to say just the right things, at just the right time, who’ll look good in whatever fancy shit you want to put her in. There’s gotta be easier idiots than me to serve your purpose.”

He closes his eyes, breathes in the cold night air. When he opens them, you have to look away. You can’t handle whatever is in them. “I know I hurt you, when we first met. That I said cruel things to you. I’m sorry.”

You laugh, even as your heart wrenches at this strange apology. Of course he doesn’t explain what offended him so much about your existence at the beginning. Why he treated you exactly how you deserved. Probably just whatever he saw when he used his Aether Core on you. He saw the echoing chambers of your empty, fucked up heart and was enraged that it was you, and not someone worthy, who would absorb the Aether Core. “There’s never been any need to varnish the truth, Sylus. You almost choked me to death the day we met. You should have fucking finished what you started,” you sneer. “Why does no one ever finish what they start?” You think of Josephine, her researcher cronies. Think of Caleb, his promise to return, the last text he ever sent you. Your fucking parents, who you will never know.

You don’t expect an answer.

And yet, you’re surprised when Sylus wordlessly releases his hold on you. Lets you slip from his arms, sets you back on your feet. You settle in your heavy boots, the weight of your coat, the stones in your pockets, grounding you to the earth.

The lamplight shines in his silver-sheened, wind-tousled hair. His cheeks are red from the cold.

Of course. Of course.

No tool is irreplaceable.

You’re not irreplaceable.

You finally said the right thing, to push him away.

This is it. This is it. This is it.

Your mind returns to the bridge. Your hand is holding the cleaver, dripping with the blood from the last unwelcome tether to your life.

You try to memorize his face, just as you did Zayne’s, but for some reason looking at Sylus’s face hurts you so much more despite having known him for so little time. Just a sigh, in the timeline of your life. The warm glow of his irises. The softness of his lower lip. The pride in his shoulders, his nose.

Maybe you didn’t want to think of him before jumping because you had fallen in love with him, despite the fact that any affection he offered was counterfeit—the steady way he breathed next to you on a jog, the way he spread out on your couch, his dry humor, his intelligence, his piercing gaze, his kindness that was actually more cruel than if he had just tossed you out and never bothered to look for you again after the auction.

You knew it was fake. You knew it was calculated. You knew that the reality was, because he had told you from the very beginning—

Don’t tell me that you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?

Clearly you’ve read too many fairytales.

And yet you had believed, in the bright moments of receiving his kind attention, in the fairytale. Just for a heartbeat. A raindrop, splattering on the ground.

You thought that you couldn’t bear to see what it looks like when Sylus finally tires of you pushing him away, and stops reaching out, as everyone else has.

But with just a few words, you’ve finally managed to do it. He set the burden of you down, and now he’ll walk away, replace you with some other beautiful, breathing tool.

You learn in this moment that you actually can bear it. You can bear anything, as long as you know that very soon, you won’t have to bear anything at all.

“You wanted the truth?” you say, suddenly, the relief flooding through you that the worst has happened, that you’re now actually free. You think of the fabric of the dress, liquid stars over a night river, and wonder whose body it will caress, with Sylus’s big hand on her waist, his gentle fingers drifting across her collarbone, his forehead pressed against hers, for whatever ruse he needs to run tonight, on Christmas Eve.

He grows still. Watches you carefully, as if searching your face for a trick. You look back at him steadily, scooping everything inside you out, letting it splatter onto the sidewalk, here along this dark riverbank.

“Will you give it to me?” he finally asks.

“As a parting thank you gift, for cutting me loose.” You nod. Take a shuddering breath of the frigid air. “Here is me telling you the truth: you should treat the woman who ends up wearing the dress you got with more gentleness than you did me at the beginning. You could have the world eating out of the palm of your hand, if you skip the cruelty at the beginning and just treat people the way you treated me in the last few months. She’ll do anything for you, I think, if you do. Because somehow you made me love you, despite our beginning. I could bear to cut everyone else loose but you.” You laugh, and the sound is like icicles snapping, shattering on the ground. “Thank you for doing it for me, instead. It’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

You smile at him.

You don’t know why you’re surprised that he just frowns deeply, brow furrowing.

Well. That’s okay. You never expected him to be pleased to see your face, smiling or not.

“Good luck, Sylus.”

You turn, begin to walk back the way you came, for the second time tonight. Your thoughts are already at the bridge. You’ve been falling for months now. Soon you’ll finally hit the crystal water and shatter.

You hope you won’t be reborn.

“You said you love me.” His deep, low voice is carried by the wind.

You stop, turn your head. “Stupid, huh?” you ask, wondering if he wants to pour salt into the wound you just willingly exposed to him.

“Why would you love someone who treated you the way I did?”

You turn fully, face him across the night, one last time. “You’re so fucking funny. I’ve always appreciated men who can make me laugh.” You shrug. “And I’m a pathetic fool. You pretended to be kind, and I lapped it up like the thirsty dog I am.”

He tilts his head, takes a step towards you. “That’s all?”

You take a step back. You don’t need him and his pretty face, his delicious scent any closer to torment you.

You offer him more truth. “Of course not.”

“What else?”

You sigh. “What does it matter? We’ll never see each other again.”

He shakes his head. “Indulge me.”

So salt, it is. You press your fingers into the most tender part of yourself, peel yourself wide open. “Your cleverness. How sweet you can be when you want something—strangely pliant, for such a big, powerful man. The self confidence you have. I could say, do anything and you did so well pretending to never be embarrassed of me. You made me believe, very briefly, that you really wanted to be with me, do anything, go anywhere, just because I was there. It’s quite impressive, really. I can see why you’re so good at business. You’re competent. You’re beautiful to look at.” You pause, shake your head in turn. “But you already know all that. You know why you’re loveable. You made me feel cherished in a way that no one ever has, even as I was pushing you away. But honestly, those are just parts of you. They don’t fully cover what it is about you that makes my heart ache when I look at you. I love you because you’re you. Even hearing your name makes my heart race. Seeing your shoes in my foyer, because they were on your feet. The curve of your wrist, because it belongs to you. I know it’s pathetic, and stupid.” You shrug again. “Can’t help it, though.”

He stares at you.

You prod him. “Is that enough?”

“How can you ask if that’s enough, when it’s everything?”

You look at him in confusion. “Huh?”

He takes a step towards you, frowning. “Are you only telling me all this because you think I’ve finally given up and allowed you to push me away, because I set you back on your feet?”

You take a step back, as he takes another step forward.“What do you mean ‘I think’ you’ve given up?” You squint at him.

“Did you only tell me all this because you’re going straight back to the bridge to try again?”

You take another step back at the intensity of his face, his question. “What does it matter? You don’t have to worry about what happens to me after this.”

He takes two steps. “You tell me you love everything about me, and then you plan to fuck off and leave me alone again?”

Okay, this was a mistake. You don’t know why he’s mad, but he’s mad again. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what else to say. You’ve been sorry your whole life. This is yet another miscalculation. You should have just left. What did you think would happen if you told him how you feel? That he’d be happy about your pathetic heart bleeding pitifully for him?

He strides over to you, his long legs outpacing your own. “If you’re sorry, don’t fucking do it.”

“What?”

He looks down into your face, so close you can smell him again, you can see the fine lines around his eyes as he frowns. “If you’re really sorry for loving me, for ever meeting me—which are the only things you have to be sorry for, then make it up to me by staying. Don’t leave me. Don’t push me away anymore. Just stay, and love me.”

You huff. “Are you really that desperate for help tonight?”

He lifts his hands, places his palms on your cheeks, his long fingers dipping into your hair. “No, I’m desperate for you tonight. It’s Christmas—I don’t give a shit about the holidays, but I know you do. I want to spend it with you. You made me watch you jump off of a goddamned bridge. What would have happened if I hadn’t already been on my way to you?” He sounds so upset. You’ve never seen him like this. The fear is naked on his lovely face.

“What the fuck are you talking about? What does it matter? You said you could get someone else for the dress, for tonight.” You’re so confused. Why is he acting like this?

“I didn’t say any of that. You suggested that I replace you with someone else, I set you on the ground to make sure you were looking at my face, that you were listening to my words when I told you that you’re irreplaceable. That no one else will do. That after watching you almost die, I can’t continue being cautious and trying not to frighten you away anymore.”

“You… what?”

“You love me. Right? You weren’t lying?” he looks uncertain, like he can’t quite believe it.

You can’t bring yourself to lie. The truth is out. You’re witnessing the fallout. There’s no point in backpedaling. “Yeah.”

He nods, once, decisively. “Okay. That’s enough.”

You sigh in relief. Maybe he’ll let you go, finally, finally.

He checks his chunky watch, the platinum flashing in the lamplight. “There’s still time.”

“Time for what?”

“For my plans tonight. Come.” He closes the distance, sweeps you into his arms again, cradles your body against him like something fragile.

“What plans? Listen—” you start to argue.

“No. Now it’s my turn to speak, and for you to listen.” he squeezes you tightly. “Today was the last day you spend alone. If you can’t live for yourself, then you can live for me, until you remember why you want to live for yourself again. No matter what you say, or what you do to get rid of me, it’s not going to work.”

You can’t even process what is happening. “What are you—?” you begin, but he cuts you off again.

His voice is strained, rough. “You love me. So you have to take responsibility. You have to stay.”

You don’t know what to say.

I’m desperate for you tonight.

You can’t believe this. He hates you. He has hated you from the beginning. He was so kind to you because he wanted to use you for something he never bothered explaining to you. He needs you for your resonance, your amplification of his powers.

You’re irreplaceable. No one else will do.

Because of your resonance?

I don’t give a shit about the holidays, but I know you do.

He carries you along the wind-swept riverbank, through the frigid night. Stars above, stars below.

You made me watch you jump off a goddamned bridge.

You didn’t think anyone was left to care.

You were so careful, severing ties like arteries, so that you wouldn’t leave the world with more pain than you found it. It was already bleeding so much.

You just were so tired of bleeding with it.

As if sensing the turn of your thoughts, Sylus carries you to the edge of the river’ embankment, where the concrete falls away, drops into the water.

He sets you down again, but doesn’t let you go. His big hands slide down the outside of your coat, dip into your pockets.

He pulls out a smooth stone. Turns it in his hands.

“I’ll never understand how someone so light can weigh so heavily in me,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But you’re a weight I’ll carry for as long as you let me.”

His ember eyes flick back to yours. He hands you the stone.

“This is your conviction that the world won’t miss you, if you’re gone. You will hold it in your hand, one last time. And then you will throw it in the water.” He wraps your cold fingers around the stone. Somehow, his fingers are still warm.

You grasp it, look up into his face. You see yourself in them. It hurts, to be seen so clearly. You’re so ashamed. “How did you know?”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head a little. Opens them. “I looked into your soul, the day we met. I know you’re too soft-hearted in this life to kill yourself if you thought it would hurt someone else. You don’t carry that spite, anymore.”

In this life.

Anymore.

You can’t bring yourself to ask him what he means. You only know that once again, Sylus Qin has seen inside you, has seen you, in a way no one else ever has.

“But I don’t think anyone would miss me. I made sure of it.”

He huffs. “You’re a fool, if you actually believe that. The people you’ve pushed away still love you. But if you can’t believe that yet, then you can’t pretend to yourself that you’re disposable anymore, if for no other reason than I’m standing here now, telling you that I would miss you.”

You think of Tara, sitting on your desk, nudging a steaming latte she got for you on her way to work toward you, asking if you’ve heard the latest about Simone and Andrew.

You think of Xavier, walking you to your door at the end of a nasty wanderer encounter, reaching out, brushing a bit of mud off your cheek, then smearing it across his own cheek. See, we match now.

You think of Zayne, waiting across a busy hallway, patient, letting you choose to approach him, and respecting you by letting you walk away.

You think of Raf, the beauty he shares with you with every photo, the funny strings of emoji that don’t demand an answer.

“How do you know, that they would miss me?” you ask Sylus quietly.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time, sweetie. Do you think I haven’t seen your friends’ faces when you walk away from them?”

You clutch the stone in your hand. “I don’t think I can change my thoughts, my conviction, just like that.”

“You love me, so you have to try. Throw it. Every time you try to drag it back up, I’ll remind you that you threw it away, and you can let it stay at the bottom of the river.” He reaches up, caresses your cheek with his fingertips.

You want to cry. You want to cry, because you’re so afraid. If you let yourself believe that people love you, you have to stay, for them. You have to feel, every day, the weight of grief, of existence, the pain of being alive, of being inside yourself, your body. The hollowness will return, even with your friends, even with Sylus filling most of it.

It’s like he can read your thoughts as his eyes devour your face, as his fingers tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “I won’t let you pretend, anymore. You love me, and I will not survive if you aren’t here with me. So you have to stay. We don’t have to accept that life is a curse. We can fight back. Make it something better.”

“I’m scared,” you say.

His eyes are so tender, as he watches your mouth form your biggest truth, set it free in the night. “I will protect you, until you can protect yourself again. There’s nothing to be afraid of, if we’re together.”

You want to believe him. Your heart beats painfully behind your ribs. The moon is a sharp crescent in the sky.

But you’re a weight I’ll carry for as long as you let me.

“You’ll really stay?”

He finally smiles, a faint Sylus smile that feels like a grin. “I told you. Today was the last day you’ll ever be alone. You can’t get rid of me now, no matter what you do, or say.”

You turn, holding the stone in your cold hands. You think of all the lies you’ve been telling yourself, about your friends, your place in their lives, because you were so tired of living with an unnameable grief, one you carried inside you long before Caleb and Josephine died, but whose loss compounded, made unbearable the original sorrow.

And I will not survive if you aren’t here with me.

You don’t know why he feels this way. Does he love you too? He hasn’t said so. Can he even love you, in the way you love him?

Does it matter?

It’s enough, that he says he’ll stay. That he wants you to stay alive. That he’ll help remind you, when the whispers drift back in your mind, telling you that you’re just a burden, that no one actually loves you, would miss you when you’re gone. When the hollowness echoes so loudly it’s all you can hear.

You lean back, lift the stone, throw it as hard as you can, as far as you can, into the rushing river.

You don’t hear its splash over the wind.

You turn back to Sylus.

He dips into your pocket again. Pulls out another stone. “Your guilt, for having lived. For having been born.”

You take it from him. Let your mind drift. Feel along the contours of your memories, the jagged, missing pieces, all the way back to when it fades to black. You throw the stone.

You don’t see it sink to the riverbed.

He dips into your pocket again. “Your shame, for needing others. For being human, and imperfect. For not being able to do it all alone. For wanting to be loved.”

You take the stone. “Is it really okay?” you ask, helplessly. There’s no point pretending everything he is saying isn’t true. “To want these things, when I haven’t earned them?”

He steps closer to you. Places his hands on your shoulders, draws you in. “There is no okay, or not okay. There is no crime and punishment, no transgression, no sin. How can it be shameful, to want what you were born to want? Why does love have to be earned, instead of just given?”

You lean into him, press your face into his chest, his thick wool coat soft against your skin.

“I don’t know.”

He reaches into your pocket, places a stone in your other hand. “One for your shame, one for the idea that love must be earned. Throw them.”

You lean back again, and it’s already too far away from him. But you throw each stone, and they disappear under the cold water.

“That’s enough, for now. We’ll take the rest home.” He draws you back into his arms. Lifts you without effort, stone-filled pockets and all. The weight of all of you. “When you have thoughts of shame, of guilt, of not being loved, we’ll come back. You’ll throw them again. Until they’re all gone. We’ll gather other stones, when other feelings make life unbearable. I’ll come with you, as many times as you need.”

Sylus carries you along the path back to the road that snakes along the river. His motorcycle gleams under a bright lamppost.

He settles a helmet on your head, checks to make sure it’s secure. Puts his own on. You sit behind him, cling to him. Rest your head against his broad back, close your eyes. The motorcycle is loud, and he drives it carefully through the busy, holiday bustling streets, until he reaches your apartment building. He holds your hand as he leads you through the front doors, as he stands quietly beside you in the elevator, his red, warm eyes never leaving your face in the elevator mirrors. He leads you to your front door, waits patiently while you unlock it with your cold finger.

In the hallway, he kneels at your feet, unlaces your tall boots while you look down at him, the soft fall of his silver hair, his big, nimble fingers working the laces.

He then removes his own boots. His coat. He’s wearing a garishly bright Christmas sweater, with prancing reindeer. He hangs his coat on a peg in the wall. He turns, slowly unzips yours. Eyes flicking between the zipper and your face. He gently lifts it from your body, again like it’s weightless, even though it’s still filled with stones. He pulls it from your arms, hangs it next to his.

He pulls you further into your place.

The first thing you notice is the warmth. It’s so warm, like someone came in while you were gone and turned on the heating.

The next thing you notice is the Christmas tree. The one you didn’t get this year, because the thought of the holidays without Caleb and your grandmother was unbearable.

Beautifully, tastefully decorated. Silver and gold, twinkling lights. Its pine scent fills your place.

Sylus moves to a record player on one of the cabinets along your living room wall. A record player that wasn’t here before you went to work today. He fiddles with the arm, and suddenly Joni Mitchell’s River fills your house.

It’s coming on Christmas

They’re cutting down trees

They're putting up reindeer

And singing songs of joy and peace

Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on

He walks back to you. “Is this okay?”

I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

Whoa I wish I had a river I could skate away on

The music flows around you, paralyzing you. You stare into his face, into the warm glow of his eyes. How could you have missed this? The way he’s looking at you now? Through all the long months since the auction?

He tried hard to help me

You know, he put me at ease

And he loved me so naughty

Made me weak in the knees

Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on

The words wash over you, through you. The scent of pine warms you, memories without form filling you with the sense of home, safety, love.

I made my baby cry

I'm so hard to handle

I'm selfish and I'm sad

Now I've gone and lost the best baby

That I ever had

Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on

He takes your hands in his, thumbs across your skin. “Is it too much?”

You think of how cold it was, standing on the guardrail of the bridge.

You were running toward the bridge, while Sylus was filling your home with warmth.

What would have happened if I hadn’t already been on my way to you?

You think of him spreading out on your couch, as a fever raged through your body. You think of your freezer, filled with food. You think of the takeout boxes, still steaming, sitting in front of your closed door.

You think of him hanging delicate ornaments on a fragrant tree.

I made my baby cry

You shake your head, the enormity of what almost happened filling you. The enormity of the choice you made, that you enacted, until Sylus pulled you back from the rushing dark.

You start to shake.

“Kitten?”

“It’s not too much,” you say, teeth chattering. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

He stares down at you, seems to make a decision. “Shower. Now.”

You nod, moving away from him, but he follows.

Inside your small bathroom, he takes up the entire space. He peels off your hunter’s uniform, tosses it beyond the open bathroom door. His gaze flicks from your undershirt, your underwear, to your face. “Do you want me to leave?”

You think of the dark water, an impact that never came. Sylus plugging in the record player, choosing a record with one of your favorite Christmas songs on it. Placing it delicately on the turntable.

“No. You promised you’d never leave me alone again.”

He smiles a little. “I mean, leave the bathroom.”

“No. You promised you’d never leave me alone again,” you repeat.

He stares into your eyes. Nods. Lifts your undershirt. He reaches behind you, unhooks your bra with the same agility that he unlaced your boots. He lifts it from your body, watches you as he lifts it to his nose, inhales.

You shiver.

He tosses the bra behind him. Kneels. Pulls your underwear from your hips, down your legs. You step out of them. He stands again.

He leans over, his ridiculous, festive sweater soft against your cheek, as he reaches past you to turn on the shower faucet. As he messes with the knobs until steam begins to fill the small space. He nudges you forward, past the sliding glass door and into the small shower cabin, letting the hot water pour over you. You turn, watch him through the clear glass. He picks up your underwear, watches you as he lifts it to his nose, inhales as he did with your bra. His eyes close for a moment, and then open. He tucks the little slip of fabric into his pants pocket, sits on the closed toilet, rests his elbows on his knees, and continues to watch you.

You let the hot water flow over your tired, cold body. You stare at Sylus’s face, let it fill your vision, blot out the rushing river, the impact that never came, the idea of everything you would have missed, if he hadn’t pulled you out. Everything you would have missed, in such a short amount of time. What else would you miss, if he hadn’t caught you? If he could give you so much within an hour, how much would you have missed in a day? In a week?

What have you been fighting, this whole time?

Just yourself.

You think of the stones at the bottom of the riverbed, instead of your body. Your conviction that you’re not loved, your guilt, your shame, instead of you.

You stare at the man who handed you each one, and told you to get rid of them, instead of yourself. The man sitting in your tiny bathroom, filling it with his big body, his even bigger presence, staring at you, staring at him.

You stop shaking.

Reach for the body wash, lather your hands. Run your hands along your body, under your armpits. He frowns, eyes on your hands. You palm your breasts, dip between your legs.

He lowers his head, eyes still on your hands, rests his full lips on his long steepled fingers.

You finish lathering your body, let the water wash it away. He’s too far away, even this close, on the other side of the glass.

As you turn off the water, he stands, lifts one of your towels from the rack. Holds it out for you. You step into it, him, let him wrap it around you. He turns you both, so that you’re looking in the bathroom mirror, which is mostly fogged.

“Better?” he asks.

You nod, soaking in his warmth at your back, the steam of the bathroom.

You have a question, a question you can’t bring yourself to say out loud yet.

You reach out with one hand. Trace a finger through the fogged mirror.

Sylus watches you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

Letters, a question.

Do you like me? Circle yes or no

Sylus smiles again, lifts an eyebrow. He reaches out, takes your hand in his. He circles no with your finger.

You frown, heart sinking, but Sylus just whispers, “Patience, kitten,” and flattens your palm across like. Guides your finger again, just above the erased like, drags it through the moisture in an elegant script.

love

He then gently sets your hand down. Lifts his own, circles with one long finger, yes.

He watches your reaction in the mirror.

You had no idea.

This whole time, you had no idea, even though he was showing you, with every ‘chance’ encounter, his pestering you with questions about work, life, his silly stories about the N109 Zone. His packages at your door. Fever medication, a big glass of water shoved into your hands.

You think of the rushing water, what almost happened. What you almost missed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me believe you still hated me?”

He looks down at you now, away from your reflection in the mirror. His eyes trail your face, down your curved neck. He palms the back of your neck, his thumb drifting along the side, over a mole there.

“Have you heard of the myth that where we have moles is where someone kissed us in a past life?”

Even if so much has changed between you in just the last few hours, you’re reassured that Sylus Qin still can’t answer a straightforward question with a straightforward answer.

You shake your head. “No, I had never heard of that.”

Sylus smiles, and it looks a little sad. He leans down, presses the softest of kisses against your skin, the mole there. “Like most human legends, it’s a pretty lie. Not quite true.”

You laugh. “I could have guessed as much.” You tilt your neck, enjoying the press of his warm lips on your skin for the first time.

He opens his mouth, runs his teeth over where he just kissed you. Bites, gently.

You shiver again. Press your neck into, instead of away from his teeth.

He bites harder.

You gasp.

“I was afraid I’d frighten you with the enormity of my feelings for you, when in your mind, we’d only just met,” he murmurs against your neck, his saliva, the indentation of his teeth hot on your skin.

He bites again, presses himself into your ass through the towel. You realize he’s hard.

You forget about the last part of his sentence. Had you not only just met?

You lift your hands, let the towel unfurl from around your body, let it drop to the floor.

You almost died tonight.

What have you been fighting this whole time?

Just yourself.

He tried hard to help me

You know, he put me at ease

You turn in his arms. He’s breathing hard, cheeks pink.

“You love me?”

He closes his eyes. Opens them. Shakes his head. “Love isn’t intense enough.”

“Adore me?” You lift your arms, wrap them around his neck. Pull his face closer to your own.

He shakes his head again. “Still not enough.”

“You won’t survive without me?” You lift on your toes, his soft sweater almost unbearable against your sensitive nipples.

He nods. “You’re getting closer. Can’t breathe without you. When I saw you jump…” He swallows, thickly. “You might as well have pulled me down with you, beloved. If it ever gets to be too much again, take me with you. I’ll never leave you alone again. Promise me the same,” he demands, big, calloused hands running up your naked sides, the fabric of his dark jeans rough against your body, where your thighs meet, as he helplessly nudges against you again with his hips, his hard dick behind his zipper.

I'm so hard to handle

I'm selfish and I'm sad

“I wouldn’t have known, unless you told me,” you breathe against his lips. “Promise that you’ll tell me how you’re feeling from now on, and I’ll promise to take you with me if I can’t leave the stones in the riverbed, even with you here.”

His voice is deep, rough like the fabric of his pants against your sensitive skin. “Deal.” He closes the distance, presses his soft lips to yours. Licks into your mouth.

And he loved me so naughty

Made me weak in the knees

His hands drift down your sides as his tongue dips into your throat, as he swallows your noises of pleasure, just from kissing him, his hands on you. He grips your ass, urges your legs around his waist. He carries you out of the tiny, steaming bathroom, manages not to knock you against the doorway, or into any furniture on the way to your bedroom, even as he continues to kiss you, as your hands in his soft hair probably block his peripheral view. He lays you down on your bed, the puff of your duvet. It’s so warm in your place that you’re not even shivering. You watch as he pulls his cheerful sweater and undershirt over his head, tosses them to the floor. As he unzips himself, hastily yanks down his pants and boxers, his socks. He blankets you with his big body.

You wrap your arms around him, pull him tightly to you, arch your breasts into his chest. He leans down, runs his nose along your cheek, inhales the scent of your hair at your temple. You just feel each other, for a long stretch of time. His soft chest hair against your skin, the silken skin of his dick between your thighs where he just leisurely rubs himself against you, as your palms run down the muscles of his back, the line of his spine. You’ve refused to think of him like this, ever since he wrapped his hand around your throat. You couldn’t bear his beauty, through all the long months that followed. You fled, every time your heart raced at the flash of silver as he approached you, met you where you were, over and over and over.

But now he says he has loved you, through it all. That he’ll never leave you alone again.

You let yourself feel him, under your hands, under your tongue, as you lick into his ear, feel him shiver. As you squeeze your thighs together, offering him a tight, snug space for him to keep pleasuring himself, as you feel your own wetness begin to coat your inner thighs, his cock, the longer you feel him on top of you, inhale the scent of his skin, the ever-present gun oil, the cloves, his clean sweat underneath it all.

After a lifetime, or only a few minutes, he leans down, says softly into your ear. “I want you. Tell me you want me too.”

“Can’t you tell?” you ask, bucking a little, squeezing him with your legs again.

He makes a low, pleasured sound in his throat. “I want to hear you say it. You’ve gone through a lot tonight. I need to know you actually want this. That you’re not just—” his breath hitches, as you move your hips again, as his dick slips between your wet, soft places. “That you’re not too tired to say otherwise, not thinking straight.”

“Use your Aether Core on me. Then you’ll know that my body is telling you what my mouth would, if I said the words.” You smile at him, teasing.

I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

You had wanted to fly. You had settled for flying for a brief moment, before shattering.

But Sylus is offering you constant flight, under, over, along his crow’s wings.

You think of the rushing water. The tide of cars behind you, the wind whipping your hair. You almost missed this. You don’t want to waste any more time.

He lowers his forehead to yours, breathes, speaks against your saliva-slick lips with his own. “I don’t want to use my Aether Core on you. I want the words in your mouth, in your heart. I want your free will, your freely given consent. I almost lost you because I tried to force you, at the beginning. You believed I hated you, this whole time. Don’t ask me to force you again, my heart.”

You understand. You accept his request, his demand. “I want you, Sylus.”

He exhales, shifts above you, slips his wet cock between your legs, slides into your body with gentle, firm, graceful waves of his hips.

You whine, the feeling of fullness layering into the pleasure of the warmth of his skin, the taste of his tongue. For once, the feelings inside you threatening to burst out of your skin are so good, instead of painful, so pleasurable, that you can barely stand it.

He kisses you, his velvet tongue big, heavy in your mouth. You suck, whine again as he lifts a hand, palms your breast, begins to thrust into you.

You are filled with him. His warmth. The size of him.

You widen your legs, wrap them around his thick ass. Urge him with your own body to move faster, to fuck you harder. He gives you everything you want. Just the pressure of his body against yours has you coming, the release bright, sudden—you shake with it.

Your pleasure seems to trigger his. He grunts, roots into you, buries his teeth in your neck, bites where he bit you before, over the mole on your neck. The sting makes you clench, and he whimpers, groans, comes with a jerk of his hips.

He slows, still filling you, still pleasuring you, as he lifts his head to look into your eyes.

You stare at each other, breath mingling, warm between you.

You smile at him.

He smiles at you. Nudges your nose with his.

“Can we do that again?” you ask.

He laughs, low and surprised. “Yeah,” he says, kissing you softly. “Just tell me, and I’m yours, anytime, anyplace.”

“I’m telling you.” You move your hips, feel his cum drip drown your ass. Feel him gasp at your movement.

“Now?” He’s surprised again.

“Problem?” you grin at him.

“Fuck no.” He kisses you, hard. Slips out of you. Flips you over, lifts your hips with one big hand, pressing his other between your shoulder blades.

He presses his cock back between your legs, the slide easy and wet, and fucks you until you come again, until he blankets your back with his sweat-slicked, matted-hair chest.

“Was that enough, your highness?” he teases.

“I’m telling you,” you pant, wondering what he’ll do.

“As you wish,” he murmurs, before flipping you again. Before watching your face as he slowly, leisurely works himself, his cum into you, makes you come again.

In the morning, the sky through your windows is heavy, dark, gray. You wake slowly. Turn your head, find Sylus’s sleeping face next to yours on the pillow. He’s lying on his stomach. You take in the dark sweep of his lashes, his generous mouth, slightly parted.

You slip out of the bed, use the bathroom. You wander into the living room, gaze at the Christmas tree, its twinkling lights.

It’s Christmas.

Caleb and your grandmother are dead.

But you’re still alive.

Your body aches from Sylus’s efforts, but it feels good. For once, it feels good to be inside your body. To breathe deeply.

You think of riverstones, sinking deep in the riverbed.

You know that the feelings tied to them will try to rise, clawing to the surface again.

We’ll gather other stones, when your feelings make life unbearable. I’ll come with you, as many times as you need.

Your eyes drift to the top of the Christmas tree. It’s empty.

“I thought we should finish it together.” Sylus’s warm arms wrap around you from behind. He leans over your shoulder, kisses your cheek softly. “Do you want to do the honors?”

You smile, wrapping your hands over his forearms around your waist. “You’re taller.”

“Use me as much as you like, kitten.” He turns, grabs a pretty golden glass tree-topper from your kitchen table, hands it to you. He lifts you up onto one shoulder, easily, and you fit it gently over the highest point of the tree. He holds you against him, as he lowers you. You slide along his body, until he sets you gently on your feet again.

You both stand, admiring it for a moment. It’s beautiful, like the rest of the decorations.

You hug him, look up into his face.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

He smiles down at you, ruby eyes twinkling with reflected light from the tree.

You would have missed this moment, and all the moments like it, if Sylus hadn’t stopped you last night. You shudder, hug him more tightly.

You know your feelings will return. That no one person can solve a lifetime of wounds. But you promised him that you’d try. That you’d stay. You can only do your best.

You hear your phone vibrating, reluctantly pull away from him, head to your coat in the hallway where you thought you left it last night, but Sylus stops you. He points at your kitchen island. Your phone is lying on the counter. You look at him in confusion, but go to check it.

You’re shocked at how many missed texts you have.

From Tara.

Xavier.

Your eyes widen.

Zayne, who you thought you had blocked, months ago.

Rafayel, who you’re sure you blocked last night.

Each one is a response from a text you never sent. Telling them Merry Christmas. Telling them you love them. Telling them you hope to spend time with them soon.

None of them shame you, call you out on your behavior of the last year. Even Zayne simply suggests that you try a new bakery, that you’ve been in his thoughts, that he’s relieved you felt comfortable enough to reach out. Rafayel sends a bunch of firework emojis, suggests blowing shit up on the beach for New Year’s.

You turn to Sylus.

He looks steadily back at you, silver hair sleep-tousled, wine-bright eyes glowing.

Your eyes feel hot, and you realize you’re crying, the tears fat on your cheeks, dripping down your neck.

This is the first time you’ve cried since you woke up, your ears deafening, Caleb’s necklace bright in the reflected fire.

Sylus walks over to you. Leans down, licks the tears from your cheeks with his warm tongue, one after the other. He kisses you, ignoring your suddenly snotty nose, your morning breath.

“If it’s too much, we can take it slow. We can throw more stones in the river. But please answer your friends. You need them. And you’re a fool, if you can’t see that they need you too, if that makes you feel better about your own need.”

You continue to cry as you wrap your arms around Sylus’s neck. As he gently sways with you, to music that isn’t playing. He hums, and you think it’s Joni Mitchell’s The River, but you can’t be sure. You smile against his chest.

A thought occurs to you.

“Last night, you said there was still time. That you had plans for us, a pretty dress for me. What did we miss?”

Sylus sighs, holds you closer against himself. “Don’t worry about it.”

You stop, look up into his face. “What did you have planned, Sylus? Are you sorry we missed it?”

He smiles at you. “Oh yes, so sorry I got to spend all night fucking you instead of going to a holiday concert featuring the organ.” His voice drips sarcasm. “But we can go tonight, if you’d like to make it up to me.”

You laugh, bury your face back into his chest. “And here I had planned to suck your cock while watching a black and white Christmas film marathon tonight,” you say forlornly. You smile into his chest as he chokes. “Oh well, the concert it is.”

He just laughs, rich and deep, and continues to sway you slowly in your living room.

“Merry Christmas, my heart,” Sylus says against your hair, in your pine scented apartment, as snow begins to fall outside your windows, as your phone continues to vibrate, filled with the love of your friends.

Here you are. Again.

You’re so grateful, to be here, again.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #my fanfic

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justhereforthecupcakes · 15 hours ago

Text

@rosie-tyler Funny you mention Daniel spitting.

I actually wrote a very dark and sad AU fic in which Daniel spits in Terry’s face during the infamous arm lock moment in the 5x05 fight scene… with tragic results.

I’ve decided to post it below. Please be warned there are VERY dark themes and TW subjects. Otherwise, I hope those who read enjoy.

Something You’ll Never Forget Series

Title: Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t)

Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver

Disclaimer: do you really need one at this point, or do you honestly believe I own the franchise?…. Why yes I do, write any checks to me please!

Warnings: N/C, Sexual Assault, Physical Assault, Edging, Forced Orgasm, Obsession, Anti-Asian slur, Terry Silver is his own warning, in fact Terry Silver is flat out delulu

Summary: Daniel makes the mistake of telling Terry Silver to blow him. So he does.

“You really ought to be careful what you ask for, Danny Boy.”

Daniel lay on the floor, naked below the waist, trembling and giving broken little whimpers from both the assault and being kept on edge for the last 20 minutes by Terry’s mouth and hands. He was straining oh so beautifully against the silver silk scarf binding his hands behind his back.

His cock straining even more.

Terry was glad he decided against blindfolding him; it would have heightened the sensations for his boy, but seeing the conflicting emotions of shame and arousal in his expressive brown eyes was far more rewarding.

They had fought, ending with Terry trapping Daniel’s arms with his own, taunting him.

“You never had the strength, did you?”

“Blow me, asshole!” Daniel had spat out, before spitting in his face.

He also never did learn to watch his mouth…

He’d struggled at first, alternating between panic and anger, pleading and cursing at him to stop; then the tears followed. But eight minutes in, the anger and tears subsided as Daniel gave up fighting. Resigned to Terry’s ministrations, his breaths now coming in delicious little gasps, and moans.

He loved the fire in his boy, but Submission was a damn good look for him.

Terry’s pants were definitely much tighter than they were 20 minutes ago. He ignored it, though. That wasn’t exactly easy considering Daniel’s thighs were quivering in the most provocative manner — if he only knew just how badly Terry was tempted to take a bite of his inner thigh and truly mark him.

For now…

Daniel let out a choked moan as he massaged his balls, lips teasingly brushing over his cock.

Oh he was going to enjoy hearing his boy cry out in ecstasy when he finally let him come.

But not yet.

He would make him beg next time - and there would be a next time, giving Daniel this small taste has without a doubt ensured that.

Perhaps he’d even take a hand to his backside for his insolence, as adorable as it was. Administer blow after blow until his cheeks were glowing.. until he was deliciously squirming and writhing in his lap, begging for Terry’s forgiveness… for mercy…

But, he didn’t want to totally break him just yet. Breaking him too quickly would have him running or fighting him even harder.

He knew his boy — he’ll always be his boy, no matter how old he got — and he was a stubborn thing. Regardless of how many years had been lost between them, he knew not to rush him. Daniel would need time to accept his feelings if he was to come to him on his own.

Besides, this was meant to be a gift, an incentive, a little nudge in the right direction…

… Still, his boy did need a firm touch. He needed to learn.

And Terry just couldn’t help himself.

“Do you have any idea how you look right now?”

A gentle kiss to his swollen cock.

“Has it ever been this good with your wife?”

Daniel remained as stony-faced as he could manage in his position.

Admittedly, it was an unfair question to ask — and an irrelevant one.

The one that mattered…

“Has a man ever touched you like this before?”

Because he needed to know. And because he’d seen Lawrence and especially that sl**t-eyed Toguchi sniffing around his boy, like Daniel was a bitch in heat.

Well, he supposed, in a way, he is.

And Barnes… well, he got the message.

The grimace on Daniel’s face was enough to confirm he hadn’t. And the elation it brought him. It meant Terry would be his first in so many ways.

God, it meant he’d stayed faithful.

That alone earned Daniel his reward.

He grasped him tightly then, sealing his mouth over the head and giving him firm strokes; his other hand teasing his perineum — that did the trick.

Daniel let out a strangled cry, involuntarily thrusting his hips and himself further into Terry’s mouth. It wasn’t long until Daniel threw his head back, letting out a guttural moan as he came hard.

Watching him fall apart and completely come undone truly was a sight to behold. Something he’ll never forget.

And neither will Daniel.

Underneath the flush from his post-coital daze, he looks shellshocked.

Understandable; his boy had never experienced this kind of pleasure before.

Daniel was no doubt experiencing the full onslaught of the feelings and desires he had kept buried all these years, the ones Terry had just forced him to confront.

It was long overdue. Terry had accepted his feelings, and now it’s time for Daniel to do the same.

Time for Daniel to come back to where he belonged.

He gently takes his face in his hands and kisses him before he unties him and leaves; pocketing the silk scarf.

It won’t be long before he’ll finally have the pleasure of seeing what his beautiful boy will look like riding his cock.

Until then, the scarf that had touched Daniel’s beautiful hands was now wrapped around his cock. And he imagined his boy would feel just as smooth around him.

So he waited for his boy to come to him.

And waited.

But his boy never came.

No, the next knock on his door were two LAPD officers with a warrant for his arrest.

The charge: sexual assault of Daniel LaRusso.

He made bail, of course.

But to add insult to injury, he was almost immediately served with a Temporary Restraining Order barring any contact with Daniel and his family, and instructing him to stay a minimum distance of 100 feet away for the next 30 days.

How he managed to obtain one so quickly… The judge listed on the order was part of LaRusso’s little country club, no doubt.

He’d have her charged with collusion and disbarred.

GODDAMN LITTLE PRICK!

Even if he wasn’t convicted and placed on the sex offender list, the charges alone would severely hamper, if not totally derail his plans.

LaRusso, you little bastard… you fucking tease!

He planned this.

Somehow he’d planned this and once again Terry had underestimated him.

He would have given him the world.

Okay, Danny Boy. Okay.

Now the real pain begins.

Title: Breathe

Sequel to: Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t)

Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, murder, strangulation, rape, stalking, obsession, suicide, Terry Silver is his own warning, in fact Terry Silver is flat out delulu

Summary: After the events of “Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t),” Terry makes bail… and now… the real pain begins.

He wept softly as he rocked Daniel’s too still body in his arms…

He understood, too late, his boy simply wanted to know if he mattered more to him than Cobra Kai.

This had been a test to see if he would choose what mattered most, and he’d failed.

He’d been waiting for him at Miyagi-Do.

He just wanted to… he doesn’t know… but he needed Daniel to know.

Terry needed Daniel to know that for all the things he’d ever experienced… Viet Nam… the fear… the trauma…

Never had he experienced heartbreak like that at the hands of Daniel LaRusso.

His Danny Boy…

There were moments he was sure Daniel was pure Cobra, more than he or Kreese ever were.

He thought he’d never been more sure than the moment he learned what his boy was capable of: Orchestrating his arrest, the restraining order… setting everything he had worked to rebuild to burn to ash once more.

All of his patience and planning… all his years of therapy… gone with one look from his boy… a single threat of walking away…

But when he came out of the shadows, and Daniel jumped back, and ordered him to leave — screamed for him to get out.

Out of nowhere his anger dissipated; instead, Terry broke down and fell to his knees, grabbing Daniel around his waist, begging him… “don’t make me go, don’t push me away, please”…. never had he willingly shown such weakness and vulnerability in his life…

… and still Daniel tried pulling away… panicking and screaming and tripping them both to the ground with Terry on top of his back…

“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TOUCH ME!”

The cruelty in his boy.

And, God help him, his anger has returned and turned into an all consuming rage. All he could think was how much he wanted him to hurt! To make him suffer for the way he had deliberately made Terry suffer, and break him for it.

Because Terry was suffocating and he couldn’t breathe…

So he wouldn’t breathe…

He wound the silver scarf around the swanlike throat and pulled tight… tighter…

"Terr—" he'd choked out, before his eyes rolled back and he finally went still under him.

And he was done waiting, done drawing this out. No, this was pleasure for Terry and pain for Daniel.

“I told you not to play with fire,” he voice shook in fury, as he undid his belt and pants, before roughly yanking down Daniel’s, “didn’t I?”

He took one moment to appreciate the enticing view, smoothing a hand over the cheeks he could only dream about over the decades; now a reality in front of him. Any ounce of regret he might have felt at their first time ruined by fury and blood was overtaken and consumed by that decades old darkness that had been caged too long.

There was no going back.

He took that one moment before spitting into his palm, and greasing his cock with the barest amount, because he didn’t deserve lube… he deserved every second of the torture he was about to endure…

And he shoved in, uncaring of the damage to delicate flesh and the blood that followed — satisfied even.

“You used me!” thrust “You used me for a trophy” thrust “and then walked away” thrust “without a backward” thrust “glance!”

His hands yanked upward on the silk material, pulling the scarf tighter, while pushing down between Daniel’s shoulders blades. Daniel couldn’t cry out, could barely breathe, body twitching in agony; didn’t matter - he knew he was in excruciating pain, while he was in utter bliss.

He was so very right after all… his boy was as smooth as silk on the inside… Smooth as velvet… He never knew people actually saw stars when they came.

He let his breathing come back under control… but his hands… were still pulling on the scarf around his boy…

… who was laying too still…

NO.

He jerked his hands away from the scarf and turned his form onto his back, and frantically tried to give the breath he'd stolen from him back… mouth-to-mouth… chest compressions… mouth-to-mouth… chest compressions…

BREATHE!

God, Danny - sweetheart - please breathe…

He tried listening for a heartbeat, but the horrible wail that tore from him drowned out the sound that wasn’t there.

He simply dragged his boy up into his arms, silently crying as he rocked him, whispering apologies and begging forgiveness to unhearing ears.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there, doesn’t know how long it was before he was discovered by Lawrence, Toguchi and (regrettably) Daniel’s children.

He knows their presence is the only reason he woke up in a hospital three days later, miraculously still alive… in pain (though it would never come close to what he felt when Daniel’s body was ripped away from his arms)… but he was still alive…

Just another regret.

A regret he remedied when he plead guilty, and requested the death penalty. He’s not the first convicted murderer in history to do so; but it still sent shockwaves through the Valley.

But he didn’t do this out of any sense of nobility… not even because he deserved to die for what he did… no, again he was selfish - he did this to see his boy that much sooner.

The only solace he had found through this tragedy was when he belatedly realized that his name was the last thing the love of his life ever breathed.

And so he was sentenced to death by lethal injection.

But he was given a surprise visit by Samantha on the day of his execution.

She didn’t want his apologies, she wanted to know why.

“Nothing I could tell you would ever make sense, nor should it. All I can tell you is that I wanted to believe I could change. I tried to pretend I wasn’t a monster, but I am. And your father… despite what I’ve done, I love him.”

And he loved me.

But he left that unspoken. She would never accept that. Never be ready for that.

Like father, like daughter.

Predictably she reacted in shock and denial, but he held her gaze and allowed her to see the naked and undeniable truth from him. The rage was still there, but so too was the quiet realization and acceptance of his admission.

“I’ve never felt more pain than the moment I realized what I’d done. I’ll never forgive myself for it.

“You don’t have to forgive me. But, Samantha — don’t let this consume you or your family like it did me.

“For over 30 years I’ve thought of nothing else but all the ways my life could have been different if I had just made a different choice - the right choice. I wanted something beautiful, and I had the chance to have a future with him… but now, if I could go back and change everything, I’d go back to the start of it all… and I’d kill Kreese. And me.”

That surprised her.

“So that you, your dad, and your family could live a happy life. Safe.”

She sat, unsure of how to take that. “But you can’t.”

“No,” he admitted, “But you will be safe from now on, Samantha. I’ll be going soon, and I’m taking Cobra Kai with me. It’s already done. It’s only a matter of time - they just don’t know it. And one day, you and your family can stop looking over your shoulder. It’s the one unselfish thing I can do.”

He watched her, the daughter they never had, leave knowing she would be safe.

He briefly wondered what she would do with the money he was leaving her and her brother… how she would react when they discovered they were among the beneficiaries, but no point in dwelling.

And when the guard came for him, he didn’t cry, he didn’t have second thoughts, he did not beg for mercy. Not even as they strapped him down. Not even when they inserted the I.V.

This was Mercy, unintentional as it were.

Daniel was waiting for him on the other side.

And he would find in death what he could not find in life — Love.

He was still smiling as they depressed the plunger.

Title: The Roots Are Strong

Sequel: Breathe (Third in the Something You’ll Never Forget series)

Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver

Characters: Daniel LaRusso, Terry Silver, Johnny Lawrence, Samantha LaRusso, Anthony LaRusso, Amanda LaRusso, Miguel Diaz, Carmen Diaz, Robby Keene, John Kreese, Kim De Eun, Chozen Toguchi, Mike Barnes.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, death penalty, references to murder both past and present

Summary: Terry is executed, and everyone deals with the aftermath.

Samantha was curled next to Miguel on the couch, Anthony passed out on the other side of her, his head on her lap and a protective hand on his shoulder. He had progressively grown even thinner over the last six months.

Even Johnny had tried to get him to eat more — couldn’t help it. Kid was starting to look as skinny as his dad during his pencil thin days of high school… Always had to fight the urge to shove a sandwich down the little twerp’s throat back then.

Amanda had seemed to age ten years. A heavily pregnant Carmen was by her side doing her best to provide comfort.

The rest of Miyagi-Do/Eagle Fang were scattered about, keeping watch. Standing guard.

It was happening. Right now.

Johnny, Mike, and Chozen were present to make sure the bastard was dead and gone. No tricks this time.

And Robby.

There was no stopping him.

“He was there for me and I stabbed him in the back - I never even got to apologize… I need to be there. I need to see that asshole pay. He’s the reason for all of it.”

Johnny nodded.

“Ok, you’re 18 now. You can decide. But if it gets to be too much, then we’re out. No judgment. And no questions. Ok?”

It was incredibly anti-climatic.

But the son-of-a-bitch still died smiling.

Whatever. Hell will wipe it off his face the second he lands there.

They switched off the monitor once he’d flatlined and closed the curtain.

And that was that.

Afterwards, everyone departed, and it felt like a fucked up version of everyone walking out of a Sunday matinee.

Show’s over… time to go home…

But the son-of-a-bitch was gone.

That was one down as far as Johnny was concerned. There was still a fight left for what remained of Cobra Kai and Kim Da-Eun.

Or so he had thought.

Their demise had been anticlimactic as well.

Kreese met his end in prison the day of Silver’s execution.

A shank to the jugular and no one was talking.

No one cared.

With Kreese and Silver gone, Kim Da Eun had simply packed up and left.

If she planned to continue her grandfather’s legacy, it wouldn’t be in the Valley. And that’s all that mattered.

When Silver’s lawyer reached out the day after his execution, all of them were prepared for a battle beyond the grave. Something they should have seen coming.

No one expected he’d named Johnny and the LaRusso kids among the beneficiaries of his will.

They still expected some kind of trap. A deal with the devil. Maybe a cursed rabbit’s foot or something.

“To Samantha LaRusso and Anthony LaRusso, daughter and son of Daniel LaRusso, I leave a total sum of $200 million dollars to be split equally between both parties.”

He hadn’t counted on Anthony being the one to explode. He had been so quiet and shut down the whole time. But they all knew it was coming sooner or later.

He popped out his chair and almost up ended the desk before Johnny and Chozen were able to subdue him.

“Does he think money can fix this?! NO! I don’t want his goddamn money. I want my dad back!”

Amanda and Chozen had ushered him and Samantha out of the office.

“To John Lawrence, I leave in its entirety the title and brand ownership of Cobra Kai, LLC, to include its dojos—“

The rest he’d left to various charities and anti-bullying organizations, blah blah blah.

Douche.

In the end, they had each taken the inheritance.

Sam and Anthony had no clue where to go from here, though.

But Cobra Kai was now officially his. He knew what had to be done.

He’d retired the moniker and sold most of the dojos — there’d been a lot. He made a decent sized fortune, more than enough to secure a house — a real house — for his family, close enough to the LaRussos… he could afford to send all three of the kids to college if that’s the route they took...

Cobra Kai was gone.

And in its place stood Miyagi-Do — now officially co-owned by Chozen, Sam and Anthony, with Amanda acting as trustee until they reached 18; and with Johnny and Chozen as head instructors.

Carmen and Shannon managing the finances and accounts.

Finally.

The head of the snake had been cut off.

It was over.

For Cobra Kai. For Kreese. For Silver.

For Daniel.

But Miyagi-Do would live on, and be here long after they were gone.

All of them were going to be okay.

Because the roots are strong, so the tree will survive.

A/N: Terry did NOT see Daniel when he passed over. Nope. He woke up in his own Hell Loop losing the 85 tournament and watching Daniel walk away, smiling, over and over and over…

oh, sex? actually, can you just beat me up homoerotically so i can go home and jerk off about it later?

#silverusso #Cobra Kai fic #this is dark y’all #Something You’ll Never Forget #cobra kai series #Daniel LaRusso #Terry Silver #johnny lawrence

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