#i will sleep much better at night thank you

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: IX | 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: 11,697

—  warnings: strong language, mention of sex, crying, mention of death, heartbreak, emotional pain, mention of a dark past, mention of murder, a lot of teasing (I mean they always tease each other), a lot of kissing, oral (f receiving), swearing, masturbation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, and creampie

—  author’s note: after all this wait, here’s the chapter 9!! sorry again for the wait, it hasn’t been easy at all lately, but my hand is finally and very slowly getting better. i’m still in pain, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it did for most of the days. sometimes the pain kicks back and almost makes me cry 😭 hope you’ll enjoy this chapter ✨ it’s also an emotionally strong one so be prepared!! many thanks for your support & love ❤️

Chapter IX: the power within

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Living with Jungkook has honestly been great so far. You’ve been going on plenty of dates, watching tv, eating together, showering together, and having a lot of sex. Every night, before falling asleep—or after a steamy session—he talks to your son and presses gentle kisses on your belly. It’s honestly the sweetest thing in the world.  

You smile just thinking about it. The way Jungkook lights up every time he talks to your belly and how his voice softens when he tells your son about his day makes your heart swell. He always traces gentle circles over your skin, whispering promises of love and protection, his warmth lulling you into sleep.

During the day, life with Jungkook is surprisingly easy, despite everything going on around you. He still has his duties as King, but he always makes time for you. Sometimes, you catch him sneaking glances at you from across the room, as if he still can’t believe you’re really here, carrying his child. And at night, when everything is quiet, he holds you close, his arms wrapped securely around you, as if he wants to protect you even in his sleep.

However, today, Jungkook is going to reveal to the council that the hybrid is actually his soulmate and is carrying the next heir. Obviously, he already knows Yuna’s reaction and answer to that, but he’s nervous to see the others’ reactions. They were quite accepting of the existence of a hybrid, but will they accept her as the mother’s heir?

Once all the members are gathered in the room, Jungkook stands up with a bright smile, his eyes gazing at each member. When he looks at Yuna, he only sees hate in her eyes, but he also finds pain. She’s definitely hurt that she’s not his soulmate—his queen. She had big dreams for her own future. She imagined herself as the next werewolf queen; Jungkook perfectly knows it, but they have never been soulmates, and they both know it.

“Thanks for coming to our monthly meeting,” Jungkook begins, and they all nod. “There is a special matter I would like to bring to you.”

Yuna gives him a withering look, understanding what he’s about to reveal.

“I guess you might have noticed, but I have mated with my soulmate,” he begins.

All of them nod, confirming that they notice the change in his scent. They had noticed it during the last meeting but remained silent, knowing it was Jungkook’s place to make the announcement. They respect their king and his private life.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” one of the three Bloods’ Alphas says with a wide smile on his face.

Jungkook knows that the Alpha thinks he found love with another Blood, but he’s far from the truth. His soulmate is a Shadow and a Hybrid. Your arrival has upended the royal family and shaken the entire werewolf world. And his unborn son is going to change absolutely everything.

“Thanks,” he offers a smile to the alpha. “And also, I’m about to become a father. The next king is expected to join us on June 12th.”

The council members applaud after hearing this great news. Not only has their king found his queen, but there’s also an heir on the way. Yuna applauds as well, but she’s far from being as happy as the other alphas.

“However, my soulmate is the hybrid I told you about during the last meeting.”

Surprisingly, their smiles don’t fade away, and they keep applauding. However, unsurprisingly, Yuna intervenes.

“So our next king will not only be impure but also carry Shadow blood?” she coldly asks. “And on top of that, our next queen is a hybrid.”

“With all due respect, Yuna, don’t ruin this wonderful moment with nonsense,” a Lunar Alpha claps back. “We’ve already accepted her existence, and I don’t see where the problem is if she’s our next queen and the mother of the next king.”

Hearing them call you their next queen feels strange to Jungkook, yet deep down, he knows it’s inevitable. He will do everything to make you the next werewolf queen.

“It’s about time things start to change here,” another Shadow Alpha says.

“Easy for you to say when it involves someone from your pack,” she almost shouts. “Now, your blood will be tied to the crown.”

“Where’s the problem?” A Blood Alpha asks.

Jungkook never imagined things would go this way. He always thought most Alphas would side with Yuna, yet here they were, defending you—and his unborn son. And above all, he never thought a Blood would stand against her and agreed that the next king wouldn’t be 100% a Blood.

His son is going to be 50% a Blood, 25% a Shadow, and 25% a human. All the kings and queens before him were 100% a Blood. Every king before him had been pure Blood. This is uncharted territory. He understands why some might resist change, but he’ll make sure they have no choice.

“The royal family has always been from the Blood’s pack,” she argues. “This is unacceptable.”

“Listen,” another Lunar intervenes. “The soulmate bond knows no boundaries. If our king was meant to be with a hybrid from the Shadow pack, then there’s nothing we can do. We might argue as much as we want, but it won’t change anything. He will choose her over and over again. He will make her our queen, no matter if we like it or not,” he adds. “We all know your past with the King, and we can understand it hurts you, but the soulmate bond is strong. On top of that, they already mated, so we can’t do anything.”  

Most people in the room have already mated with their soulmates. They understand Jungkook’s feelings, and more than anything, they understand what it truly means to find your soulmate. Yuna hasn’t found her soulmate yet, so she can’t understand this. Jungkook hopes she will find him or her and know what true love means. Even if she’s been a bit out of control lately, he wishes her the best.

“He is right,” Jungkook adds. “I’m not asking for your approval, I’m just informing you about the situation. For sure, it’s a relief that most of you accept the situation. It makes everything easier, but my son is on the way, and she’s my soulmate,” his eyes meet Yuna’s. “I hope you’ll find your soulmate and truly be happy.”

Sadness appears in her eyes, and Jungkook feels sorry for her. But there’s nothing he can do for her. He simply hopes that now she’ll leave you alone and won’t be bothering you anymore. He simply wants no more drama to happen until the end of the pregnancy. He wants you to enjoy every minute of this pregnancy because so far, it hasn’t been easy.     

Lately, it’s been hard to sleep through the night or even to fall asleep. Your mind keeps thinking about your paternal family and all the intense emotions you’ve been dealing with. It’s been quite hard to find your paternal family. It makes you feel like they aren’t living in the same city anymore. You asked your grandparents if they ever knew who your other grandparents were, but they actually never met them, which makes everything much harder.

Right now, the only thing you truly want is to meet them. To meet the people who raised your father, this extraordinary man. But it seems like the universe doesn’t want you to find them.

Slipping out of bed, you feel the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. Sleep does little to ease your mind, and the walls of Jungkook’s palace feel a little too suffocating. You need space to breathe and clear your head.

You reach for Jungkook’s clothes, drawn to their warmth. The special material they are made of feels soothing against your skin, and as you pull the oversized hoodie over your body, it almost feels like he’s holding you tightly in his arms.

With careful steps, you slip out of his impressive house, making your way toward the forest surrounding it. The pine trees welcome you with their familiar scent, crisp and grounding. For a moment, you close your eyes to inhale deeply, letting the cool air fill your lungs. This scent has always calmed you, but you’re not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s your wolf blood seeking comfort in nature. Maybe it’s just the simplicity of it all—something untouched, something real.

Your bare feet press against the damp earth. Here, among the trees, your thoughts finally slow. The storm inside you quiets, if only just a little.

But even in this fleeting peace, you can’t ignore the weight of everything that has changed. This new reality—this life you’ve been thrown into—still feels foreign, like a story being written for you rather than one you’ve chosen for yourself. No matter how hard you try to embrace it, there’s a part of you that still struggles to fully accept it.

At some point, you decide to sit down against a tree. Tears start forming in your eyes while you think about everything. Your dream of becoming a mother is finally happening, but it brought you to a world you never knew existed. But it also forced you to face your past. All your life, you never accepted your parents’ death, but you never truly faced it. You always pushed it aside.

However, now, you can’t run away from it.

It devastates you to finally understand why they died. It devastates you to realize they knew that one day you’ll be left alone. It devastates you to know they hid this all from you. It devastates you to have finally met your biological grandparents. These feelings are sometimes overwhelming and suffocating, and you feel sorry that Jungkook also feels them. You like him a lot, and you don’t want him to feel the same way. But there’s literally nothing you can do about it. Hopefully, right now, he’s sleeping peacefully and doesn’t feel a thing.

Slowly, you disappear, blurring yourself into the surroundings. This is honestly the best part of your powers. You can simply camouflage yourself at any point. For the past weeks, Jungkook has been helping you master your powers. It’s easier now to disappear than it was a couple of weeks ago. You don’t fully control everything yet, but slowly, you’re getting there.

You rub your hands on your face. Nothing has been easy lately, but you’ll forever be grateful for Jungkook. That man is a blessing. Speaking of him, suddenly, his presence grows stronger. He’s awake and looking for you, but you decide to remain invisible. You hear him walking closer, and seconds later, his body comes into view. Once he’s standing in front of you, he halts. Deep down, you hope he’ll go back home.

“Sunshine, where are you?” he talks through thoughts. “I can feel you.”

You don’t answer, your eyes looking up at him.

“Why are you hiding from me? Did I do something wrong?” he continues.

You close your eyes, your heart aching at his words. Jungkook never did anything wrong; it’s quite the opposite. He has never left your side. He has always protected you as much as he could from everything.     

“Don’t hide from me, yn,” his voice in your head is very soft and filled with pain. “I know something’s wrong. I can feel your overwhelming and suffocating feelings. My chest feels compressed, and I know it comes from you.”

Knowing he feels it as well breaks your heart even more.

“If it’s my fault, please let me know.”

“It’s not your fault,” you speak out loud as you become visible again.

His eyes follow the sound of your voice before he sits down next to you.

“I’m sorry you get to feel everything,” you murmur, your voice laced with guilt.

Your head rests on his shoulder, the warmth of his body grounding you. His lips press a soft kiss on top of your head.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles.

“It’s not,” you answer. “I’m a complete mess, and you get to experience it firsthand. I know you feel everything, Jungkook. I know it was hard for you when I met my grandparents; I could feel it.”

His silence speaks louder than words. You know that even though he tried to stay strong, he was hurting just as much as you were. Every tear you shed, every ache in your chest, he felt it too. This bond you share isn’t just about love—it’s about carrying each other’s pain, no matter how heavy it gets.

“I could hear you cry when your best friend Taehyung came.” Tears stream down your face as you recall that moment. “I’m very much aware this is a burden for you, and I wish I could take it away.”

Jungkook exhales sharply as he wraps an arm around you, holding you tight against him. His grip on you feels like he wants to somehow ease the pain for both of you. But you both know the truth; this bond is permanent and unbreakable. Whatever one of you feels, the other will always feel it as well.

“I won’t lie,” he begins. “It’s difficult to deal with your intense emotions.”

Your heart squeezes, guilt creeping in, but before you can say anything, Jungkook continues.

“But,” he adds, his voice softer now, “it’s not just the pain and sadness I feel. I also get to experience the good. I can feel how much my presence soothes you and how your whole body relaxes when I’m nearby. I know exactly how happy you are when I walk into a room, even when you try to hide it.” You hide your face in the crook of his neck, the heat growing in your cheeks.

A smile appears on his face as he watches you getting all shy. You’re absolutely adorable.

“And when something good happens to you, I feel it too—your excitement, your joy, the way your heart races with happiness. It’s overwhelming sometimes, yes, but not always in a bad way,” he adds.

His fingers find their way to your chin, tilting it up so your eyes can meet. His gaze is warm and steady, his deep brown eyes comforting your soul.

“There are ups and downs to this bond, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. You and I, we’re connected in a way no one else can understand.” His fingers caress your cheek. “Feeling what you feel is just another reminder of that. A reminder that we’re meant to be. That we belong together.”

His words wrap around your heart like a comforting embrace, easing some of the guilt you feel. Because he’s right—this bond isn’t just about sharing the struggles; it’s about sharing everything. The love, the happiness, the quiet moments of peace. And you wouldn’t trade it either.

“And don’t even get me started on how it feels when we share an intimate moment.” He winks at you.

A little smile appears on your face at his words. Sex with him is overwhelming but in a very good way. He’s very skilled. Well, he’s very skilled in everything.

“Honestly, I never imagined the soulmate thing to be this hard, but life isn’t perfect,” he continues. “When we embarked on this journey together, we both accepted that we both have a past. They are heavy in different ways.” His thumb cleans the tears on your face. “Now, we get to share the present and the future together. And it will be beautiful.”

His words are comforting, giving you hope, hope that things might work out perfectly between you. Honestly, you’re absolutely terrified of the future. Your past is heavy, and you don’t want Jungkook to carry that pain with you. It seems easier to just put some distance between you and only co-parent. You’re convinced that being far from each other will help him to not feel your suffocating pain.

“But we both know my pain will haunt us for a long time,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It would be easier…” you seem to hesitate to finish your sentence. “To simply leave you,” you finish the thought through your bond.

Jungkook’s body freezes next to you, his breath hitching just slightly, but it’s enough for you to notice. Your words have hurt him; you feel it in the way his body tenses and in the sharp flicker of sorrow that echoes through your bond. You look away, not brave enough to face him. Your eyes stare at the canopy of trees standing in front of you, but you can still feel his intense gaze on you.

“That’s not how this bond works, sunshine,” his voice is quiet but firm, steady despite the storm raging inside him. The nickname warms your heart.

Finally, you decide to turn your face, your eyes meeting his. They are filled with an emotion so intense that it makes your chest tighten. He seems so hurt and vulnerable; it’s a side of him nobody has ever seen before. As the king, he always ensures that nobody sees him in a weak position. But he has feelings too, he’s not immune to it because he’s wearing an invisible crown.

“You can go as far as you want,” he continues, his gaze never leaving you. “But I’ll still feel everything. No distance will change that.”

“Jungkook…” you whisper as guilt starts to grow inside you.

But he shakes his head, shifting slightly so that his knee brushes against yours. The simple move sends shivers down your spine. This is the Jungkook effect on you. Every time his body brushes against yours, your entire body and soul react.

His next words come softer but no less certain. “You think leaving will make things easier for me? That I’ll be happier if you go?” you swallow hard as you hear his words. “You are my soulmate, yn. My mate. You leaving wouldn’t free me from your pain,” he pauses for a split second. “It would only add to it,” his voice breaks.

You didn’t think about it like that. This soulmate bond is still something so foreign to you even though you read books about it and his family talked to you about it. There are so many unknowns about this strong bond that links you to this marvelous man. You thought you would be sparing him, but in reality, you realize you’ll only be hurting him more.

Jungkook exhales sharply before lifting a hand and brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle, grounding. For a brief moment, you close your eyes to savor this intimate moment.

“Our bond has been consummated. There’s no turning back,” his voice is extremely soft.

You clench your hands together, your nails pressing into your palms.

“I just…” you exhale shakily. “I don’t want to ruin you.”

Jungkook lets out a soft breath. His fingers trail down to your jaw, tilting your face up slightly so you have no choice but to look at him.

“You won’t,” he whispers. “I promise you that you won’t. I also have a dark side, and it’s a part of myself I don’t you to meet. But I know that eventually, one day, I’ll have no other choice than revealing it to you.”

Your faces are so close now, his hot breath caressing your face. The scent you now share surrounds you, a constant reminder of your bond. This scent is also what will forever protect you from enemies. People respect Jungkook, and through him, they’ll respect you, but sometimes you feel like it’s unfair. If it wasn’t for Jungkook, people would look down at you, and most probably, you’d be dead by now.

“We carry this together,” he says, his thumb ghosting over your cheekbone. “That’s what soulmates do. And if I have to feel your pain, I’ll gladly bear it, as long as it means I get to have you.”

Silence stretches between you, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. You want to argue, to tell him it’s not fair that he has to endure everything you feel. But the way he’s looking at you makes the words die in her throat.

“Can I ask you a question?” you say while you rest your head against his shoulder once more.

“Mmm,” he replies.

“If I wasn’t your soulmate and you had found out about me being a hybrid, would you have executed me and Mr Song?” you ask.

This question has been haunting you for a long time now. You never dared to raise it, too scared of his reaction and answer. It seems obvious that your fate would have been completely different. You’re sure you wouldn’t be breathing right now. Jungkook has been your protector, but what would have happened if he hadn’t?

Your boyfriend is taken aback by your question, although it’s something he sometimes wonders. He never lets his mind think of what he would have done if you weren’t his soulmate. However, now, he doesn’t have much choice but to reply. He takes his time to think about what he would have done.

“There are two possible scenarios,” he begins. “One where you still get pregnant with my kid but aren’t my soulmate, and the other where there’s absolutely nothing linking us.”

You nod as you realize that he’s right.

“In the first one, I would totally be torn apart between my desire to have a kid and my duty. But I’m sure I would have taken the same decision. I would have let you live and protect you as you’d be carrying my baby.”

This answer matches the way you envision him. Having a child is something rooted deeply inside him, and even though the circumstances wouldn’t be the greatest, his desire to become a father would have taken over the rest.

“In the second one,” he begins, his voice laced with emotions. “Even though my father would have protected you, I wouldn’t have been this gentle.”

Your heart beats extremely fast now, your mind racing with dark thoughts. Hearing those words makes you realize once more that the Jungkook you know isn’t the same as the king people see. He’s absolutely gentle, adorable, and protective with you, but he’s a tough and ruthless king.

“I can’t say with certainty that I wouldn’t have executed you,” he admits. “I would have sanctioned Mr Song for protecting a hybrid and breaking the law,” he pauses. “But you…”

Jungkook hesitates. His jaw tightens as he looks away, struggling to put his thoughts into words. The weight of his confession is heavy, and you can tell it unsettles him just as much as it does you.

“But you…” he repeats while rubbing his palm against his thigh. “I don’t know, yn.”

His voice is low. The fact that he doesn’t have a definitive answer sends a shiver down your spine. Because that means there’s a part of him, a part buried deep within his duty as a king, that might have sentenced you to death without a second thought.

“You would have killed me,” you say, and it’s not a question.

Jungkook flinches, his eyes snapping back to yours.

“I don’t want to lie to you,” he murmurs. “A hybrid being born was already a threat. You growing up and surviving long enough to enter my kingdom would have been worse. If I had seen you only as a hybrid and not as you, I…” he stops himself, shaking his head.

Silence stretches between you, thick with the weight of unspoken truths. A part of you wants to be angry, lash out, and demand how he could even consider such a thing. But another part of you, the rational part, understands. He is a king; he should be the first to follow the rules.

“But even though I would have taken that decision, it would have destroyed me. I’m not sure I would have been the same after that…”

His confession lingers between you, raw and unfiltered. His dark side isn’t just about ruthlessness or control, it’s about the choices he could have made, the man he could have been if fate had twisted just slightly in another direction.

“Thanks for your honesty.” Your eyes look up at him, and he offers you a little smile.

For a moment, you remain in silence, your head on his shoulder and his hands caressing your waist. Your hearts pound at the same rhythm which calms you both. It’s not easy to even think about the possibility of what would have happened under other circumstances. It didn’t happen. Jungkook didn’t kill you, he actually did the opposite. He fell in love with you.

“We should maybe head back inside,” he breaks the silence.  

“I don’t want to,” you instantly say while you wrap your arms around his waist to hold him tighter.

“You’ll get sick, sunshine,” he insists. “And I don’t want that.”

You don’t answer, only holding him tighter in your arms. You don’t want to get back inside just now, it feels good to be right here with him. A smile appears on his face as you cling onto him. Then, without saying a word, Jungkook grabs you in his arms and carries you to the impressive house.

“Jungkook,” you hit his chest. “Put me down.”

“No,” his eyes briefly look down at you.

A smirk appears on his face as he adjusts his grip, effortlessly holding you against his chest.

“Jungkook, put me down,” you repeat as you look up at him.

“The answer is still the same. Repeating it won’t make me change my mind,” his tone is light and kind of teasing as well.

You roll your eyes.

“If you don’t want to get back inside, I’ll do it myself. Don’t want to risk the future Queen getting sick.”

Your cheeks instantly heat up at the mention of ‘the future queen’. It’s a title that has never once crossed your mind. But as Jungkook carries you effortlessly toward the house, the weight of those words settles over you, heavy and inescapable.

It makes sense, in a way. He’s the king. He’s your soulmate. If one day you marry him, you’ll take your place beside him as queen. The werewolf queen. The thought is both surreal and overwhelming. It’s like stepping onto a path you never intended to walk but somehow always belonged to.

A strange mix of emotions coils in your chest. Unease, excitement, and uncertainty. You’ve spent so much time just trying to survive, trying to exist, that the idea of ruling, of holding power, feels foreign. Yet, deep down inside you, something stirs—an undeniable pull toward the role, toward him, almost as if fate has been quietly building this into your story all along.

Still, the title lingers in your mind like an ill-fitting crown, one you’re not sure you’re ready to wear. And yet… Jungkook says it so effortlessly, as if it’s already decided. As if it’s inevitable. The thought alone sends shivers down your spine.

“Future Queen?” you raise an eyebrow. “Should I start practicing my royal wave now, or do I get a handbook on how to be a queen?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes with the brightest smile on his face. Although it’s annoying to see him rolling his eyes, you can’t help but find him extremely adorable. Jungkook’s smirk grows, clearly amused by your sarcasm.

“No handbook, but don’t worry, I’ll be your personal tutor,” he teases, tightening his hold on you. “Lesson one: Always listen to your king.”

He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. You know he’s definitely not going to say something good. You’d even say that he’s about to say something dirty.

“Lesson two: If you dare to break rule number one, I might have to find creative ways to remind you who’s in charge.”

Jungkook is still being flirtatious, but you can see the lust growing in his eyes.

“Oh, is that so, Your Majesty?” you proceed to tease him. “What kind of creative ways do you have in mind?”

Jungkook smirks.

“If I told you, it would ruin the surprise. But let’s just say that you’d enjoy every second of it,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement and something darker.

In a matter of seconds, you’re both inside the house, in his bedroom, precisely. Jungkook finally puts you down, and then, without warning, he crashes his lips onto yours. The kiss instantly takes your breath away. His hand rests behind your neck, pulling you into him. Your hands rest on his chest before gripping his shirt as you melt into the kiss.

His strong presence makes you forget about all the devastating thoughts you had earlier. His sweet words from earlier appeased your soul. It still aches you to make him feel your rooted pain, but he’s still staying. He’s not going anywhere. He’s ready to bear this pain with you even though it’s deeply suffocating. And above anything else, he has chosen to protect you from everybody since the very beginning, and he did even before you consummated your bond.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathless, and his dark eyes lock with yours. You know he can feel your pain leaving your body. You know he can feel how you’re relaxing, thanks to him. You know that, and you want him to feel everything. This is the good side of the bond you want to share with him.

His thumb gently brushes over your cheek, your eyes closing at the feeling, and his lust-filled eyes soften as he takes in your expression.

“I can feel it,” he whispers, answering your own thoughts.

“It’s the Jungkook effect,” you smile at him.

A smirk grows on his face. “The Jungkook effect?’ he asks.

“Yeah, it’s the effect you have on me,” you begin to explain. “It’s how my soul and body react to your mere presence. It’s how you constantly feel like a blanket around me and how turned on I get under your touch. It’s how my body gets on fire when you’re around.”

His eyes get dark all over again, the lust visibly growing in his eyes. Damn, he’s so fucking hot. This man’s effect on you is beyond anything you ever thought possible. Your body longs for him, 24/7.

“Then, let me talk about the yn effect,” he answers, his fingers brushing along your back before resting right above your ass. Jungkook leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “It’s the way my entire world shifts the second you walk into a room. The way my chest tightens when you look at me like that, like I’m the only thing you see.”

His fingers press just a little firmer against your back. His other hand comes up to trace along your jaw, his touch featherlight but so intoxicating.

“It’s how your scent drives me insane, how my body craves yours even when you’re right here,” he continues, his lips brushing against your cheek as he speaks. “How just one look from you makes me forget every damn thing I was supposed to be doing. And don’t get me started on your touch because the second your hands are on me, I’m gone.”

He pulls back slightly, his smirk deepening as he watches your breath hitch. You look like a fucking dream. His dream. The dream he’s been waiting for his entire life. Even though it’s not easy all the time, having his soulmate finally with him feels like a constant blessing. And fuck, he adores to see you wearing his clothes. It fits you so well.

“So yeah,” he teases, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “I think I know a thing or two about this effect.”

Without any hesitation, you crash your lips on his after cupping his face in your hands. His hand on your back pulls you closer, your body pressed against his. You instantly feel his growing desire against your belly, causing a little moan to leave your lips.

“See,” he whispers against your lips. “This is the yn effect.”

His mouth finds yours for another kiss while your fingers find their way to his hair to play with it. The kiss quickly deepens, leaving no room for doubt about what is about to happen. His fingers move to the hem of your pants.

“You’re so fucking hot with my clothes on,” his lips brush against your ear, spending shivers down your spine. A smirk grows on his face when he feels the shivers.

His fingers push the pants down before he kneels slightly to peel the sweatpants down your legs. The fabric pools at your ankles, leaving you in your underwear, the cool air against your skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you. 

“Sit on the bed,” he instructs.

You obey, sitting at the edge of the bed. The man kneels before you, his hands placing your right foot on his thigh. His fingers trace along your leg, his movements slow and deliberate to torture you a tiny bit. They move higher while his face gets closer, pressing a featherlight kiss on your tight. His warm lips trail up, slowly and dangerously getting closer to your wet core. His breath is hot against your skin, a shiver running through your spine.

Jungkook stops when he has reached your clothed core, the heat of his breath making you moan.

His fingers hook beneath the waistband of your underwear, slowly pushing the fabric down. He takes his time, while his eyes never leave yours. He looks like a damn sin when he looks at you like that. That sight alone can make you come right now. Well, this man can make you come by only being next to you.

Jungkook leans back in. His lips graze your skin as he presses another kiss to the inside of your thigh, the warmth of his breath brushing over you and making your muscles tense. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you firmly in place as his lips finally taste you without hesitation. 

The first brush of his lips against your clit is teasing, his eyes looking up at you to catch your reaction.

“Stop teasing,” your hand finds your way to his hair to firmly push him closer to your pussy.

“Your orders are my command, my Queen,” he teases before his lips seal around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

A strangled gasp escapes your mouth, your back arching instinctively as pleasure pulses through you. Your eyes look down at the man pleasuring you. It’s so fucking good to have him in between your legs, eating you out like a starved man.

“Fuck,” you moan.

Unintentionally, as his tongue licks that sweet spot, you close your legs, trapping his head in between them. A groan leaves his lips as you do so, which sends shivers down your spine and increases the pleasure intensity.

Even though he adores being suffocated by your legs, he wants to breathe, so his large hands spread them. His gaze flickers up to meet yours.

“Don’t kill me, sunshine,” he whispers against your core.  

The vibrations of his voice send a wave of pleasure straight through your body. Your hips buck forward, pushing his face even closer—if that’s even possible—and your fingers tighten in his hair as a trail of moans falls from your lips.

His mouth works you over with tremendous hunger, tongue torturing you like never before while his lips seal around your clit. His nose presses into you, dragging against your cunt with each movement, and you know he probably can't breathe. But he couldn’t care less.

You throw your head back while moans flow out of your mouth. Hopefully, the household staff won’t be woken up by your high-pitched moans. The growing pleasure is overwhelming but in a fantastic way, and your body trembles beneath his relentless tongue.

Jungkook is savoring every second, reveling it in the sounds falling from your lips. He wants the whole world to hear you, to know that only he can bring you this kind of pleasure. A satisfied hum vibrates against you, sending shocks through your core, and when your fingers tighten in his hair, he takes it as encouragement—deepening his devotion, pushing you further.

“Jung…” you barely manage to say his name because of his tongue working wonders on your core.

“Yes, sunshine,” he murmurs against your pussy.

Your fingers tighten even more in his hair, Jungkook enjoying the pain it brings to him.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you finally say.

The way you say his name when you’re overwhelmed with pleasure is his favourite sound in the world.

“Tell me, sunshine,” his eyes look up at you.

“Gonna,” you say between moans. “Cum.”

He groans, his dick is getting so compressed in his sweatpants. The way you say his name, combined with your orgasm being so close, turns him on in an unbelievable way.

Before you even realize it, your orgasm violently hits you, your legs shaking and squeezing his face, and your wall clenching around emptiness. Even though you’re coming hard against his lips, Jungkook doesn’t stop lapping at your juices falling on his tongue. He savors every drop because damn, he’s never tasted something as addicting as you.

Once you come down from your high, he pulls away. His face glistens with your slick, his lips swollen, his eyes dark with hunger. He looks so sinfully angelic. He’s your angel. Before standing up, he pushes your shirt up, revealing your growing belly to his hungry eyes. He presses a gentle kiss on your belly. Amid this dirty moment, he still manages to make it sweet.

“Hope you’re closing your eyes, baby boy,” he whispers against your bump. “Mommy and Daddy are doing some nasty stuff.”

A giggle escapes your lips, and your hand strokes your little bump.

“I think he’s already getting used to it,” you reply. “You can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“How could I?” he says while he presses another kiss on your belly. “You’re the prettiest and hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I’d make love to you 24/7 if I could.”

“Our kid will be born traumatized,” you chuckle.

You’ve stopped counting the times Jungkook’s cock, fingers, and mouth have visited your pussy.

“You’re exaggerating as always,” he rolls his eyes.

“Says the drama queen,” you directly answer.

Jungkook stands up, a bright smile on his face, before pushing down his pants and boxers. A sigh of relief leaves his lips the second his cock is finally free. It was getting painful to keep it inside his pants.

You lean back as you hold yourself with your upper arms, your eyes hungrily admiring the man that his stripping for you.

“Jungkook Junior is already very hard,” your eyes look up to meet his.

Once he’s fully naked, his right hand finds its way to his cock, stroking himself. He’s not even sure he’ll last long.

“Your pussy drives me crazy,” he admits. “I could come in my pants eating you out.”

His grip tightens around his cock, his eyes never leaving yours. The simple fact that he’s masturbating in front of you is an incredible turn on, you can feel your pussy get even wetter.

“Strip for me, sunshine,” he commands.

You simply nod as you stand up. You take all your time to remove the hoodie, giving this man a little show. You lift the hoodie over your head, letting it drop to the floor.

The second you’re fully naked, you notice his jaw flexing. His thumb swipes over the top of his cock, spreading the precum.

“No bra?” he raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t sleep with a bra,” you tell him. “And I definitely wasn’t going to put one just to go to the woods around the property.”

“Thankfully, it was just the forest and not somewhere public. I’d hate to have to rip someone’s eyes out if they ever got to see what’s only meant for me,” he replies.

You roll your eyes, his hand still stroking his hard member. The simple thought of someone seeing you while you’re not wearing a bra makes his breath hitch. He’d lose his mind if that ever happened.

You walk closer but maintain a certain distance between you. His hand stops stroking his cock as you step closer. You’re in a teasing mode, you always adore teasing this man, to push him to the edge. Your lips curl into a teasing smirk. Jungkook’s eyes drop down on your body before you playfully tilt your head.

“Maybe tomorrow morning…” you muse, your voice light, deliberate. “I’ll take a little stroll around the estate… in just one of your shirts.”

Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as his dark eyes lock onto yours. His hand even tightens around his shaft, a barely audible groan escaping his lips.

“Yn,” he warns, his voice deep, rough, and laced with something dangerously controlled.

“What?” you grin as you get slightly closer. Your fingers trace across his collarbone, a shiver running through his body. “I thought you liked me in your clothes.”

His hands are on you in an instant, firm at your waist, pulling you into him. Your bodies are flush, heat radiating between you, and you can feel the way his muscles tense beneath your fingertips.

“I do,” he murmurs, his lips dangerously getting closer to yours. “But if you keep teasing me…” his voice trails off, his fingers tightening slightly against your skin.

You raise a brow, pretending to consider. “If I keep teasing you… what?”

His smirk is slow, wicked. He leans in, brushing his lips along the shell of your ear before answering in a husky whisper.

“If you keep teasing me, trust me, you won’t be able to walk away so easily afterward,” his fingers trail along the small of your back, igniting a trail of heat. “Or maybe that’s exactly what you want,” he muses, his lips hovering over yours. “To see how far you can push me… to see what happens when you do.”

He lets the tension build, his breath fanning against your skin, before delivering the final blow with a smirk.

“But if that’s the game you want to play, just remember… I always win.”

Jungkook walks to the bed, his hand on your waist, dragging you with him. He very gently lays you on the mattress of his bed, and then his lips crash against yours. His body presses flush against yours, heat radiating between your bodies as he deepens the kiss.

“If you weren’t already carrying my child, I’d get you pregnant right now,” those words send shivers down your spine.

Your boyfriend’s forehead rests against yours for a moment, his fingers brushing your jaw. His lips press another kiss on yours before he looks down between your bodies. His hand wraps around his cock, stroking himself slowly.

“You’re so hot when you touch yourself,” you tell him, your eyes dark with lust.

“Yeah?” he asks, and you nod. “And how do I look when I touch you?”

“Even hotter,” you whisper before cupping his face to kiss him.

When you break the kiss, he holds you open as he guides the head of his cock into your sopping entrance. For a moment, he teases you first, dragging the tip through your slick folds, spreading your arousal before finally pushing in with a slow, deliberate thrust.  

A deep moan leaves your throat as he stretches you open. Your walls clench around him as Jungkook Junior makes his way inside your pussy. By reflex, your back arches, your thighs trembling around his waist as he buries himself deeper.

“Fuck,” he mumbles the second he looks down, watching the way your body takes him in. “I’m so fucking addicted to you, sunshine.”

Jungkook pushes himself further until he bottoms out. The second he’s fully inside, he halts to give you both a moment to adjust. It’s extremely pleasurable, and he knows that if he starts thrusting into you, he’ll just come right now, and he honestly doesn’t want that. He wants this to last as long as possible. All he wants is to make love to you all night long.

“Jungkook, move please,” you beg him.

Having him still inside you is torture. You can’t handle staying like this, you need him to move and fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.

“As you wish, my Queen,” he teases as he slowly pulls back, and he pauses for a second when only the thick head of his cock remains inside.

Without any warning, he pushes back. Feeling his thick shaft pushing deeply back into you is beyond satisfying. Damn, it even makes you see stars. Both of you moan loudly as he starts pounding into you. This man right here just knows how to make love to you.

His pace is restless, your body quickly shaking with each movement. His hands grip your waist tight as the room gets filled with the slick sound of your moans, of the headboard of the bed hitting the wall, of your bodies slapping together, and of your pussy soaking his cock. The heat builds in your core as he slams into you, filling you completely with each thrust.    

Your hands grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts. Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing this; you can see it in his eyes. His lips meet yours for a sloppy kiss while his thrusts grow rougher and quicker.

“You drive me crazy,” he whispers against your lips.

“Don’t even get me started on how you drive me crazy,” you reply.

The familiar coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach while your boyfriend moans your name. He’s definitely getting more and more lost in his pleasure, and he sounds and looks like an angel. Your angel. The only thing you’re both focused on now is chasing your high, and the heat between you is unbearable. You both know you won’t be lasting much longer.  

With the noise you’re both making, you’re sure that the household staff hears it. Even though they aren’t werewolves and don’t have super hearing, you’re just making a big mess, and anybody with two ears can hear it. You feel sorry for them. You know tomorrow they will be talking about it. But the pleasure is too overwhelming, and you can’t help but moan louder and louder.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” you manage to say to your boyfriend, the desperation filling your voice.

His cock twitches inside you at your words, and well, that action causes your orgasm to crash over you. Your walls squeeze him tight while you’re completely and violently hit by your orgasm. Jungkook groans when he feels your wall clenching around his cock.   

His thrusts get more desperate as he starts chasing his own high. He’s so fucking close. Jungkook closes his eyes because the simple view of your face contorting with pleasure is just too much. Your walls keep tightening around him, a torture you impose him to help him cum.

“Fuck,” he groans.

And then, with one last thrust, he falls apart. Deep groans fall from his lips as he releases his hot semen inside you, painting your velvety walls white. His hands tighten around your waist, holding you still while he releases himself deeper in you. He looks incredibly sexy when the orgasm hits him.  

Jungkook collapses next to you in bed. His breathing is heavy, his eyes fixed on the ceiling just like yours.

“Don’t ever try again to push me away, yn,” he says without looking at you. “I won’t ever let you go,” his eyes finally meet yours, intense and unwavering. “Not when you’re my soulmate.”

You get closer before resting your head on his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you.

“Close your eyes,” Jungkook says, “and focus only on your breathing or heartbeat.”

You do as he says, but in all honesty, the sound of your baby’s heartbeat is the only thing you can truly focus on. The same heartbeat that rocks you to sleep every night.

For a month now, you’ve been having classes with Jungkook to master your transformation. It hasn’t been easy, but it feels like you’ve progressed a bit in a month. This control over your shift is mostly related to your emotions and also the moon. And the full moon is also in two days, so it’s getting harder to control everything. But in the end, that’s why you’re doing this.

On top of these classes with Jungkook, you’ve also been having self-defense classes with a man named Jimin. He’s the son of an old friend of your mother. Your boyfriend thought it’d be easier if it was a Shadow who would help you to defend yourself with your own abilities. It’s not easy, but Jimin has been nothing but a sweetheart with you. He’s tough when it comes to teaching you, but he’s been encouraging you so much.

When Jungkook feels like you’re grounded, he continues his lesson.

“Okay, now, imagine Yuna showing up here and ready to explode, threatening you and our child,” he tells you.

Your jaw clenches at the mere thought. You can perfectly picture her coming your way with anger all over her face. The same anger that was on her face when she showed up at your place a month ago. You can also imagine the sharp words leaving her mouth.

Your heart rate increases, and you can already feel the familiar heat rushing through your veins—the first sign of your transformation stirring beneath the surface. You can feel yourself losing control. It feels similar to when you shift during the full moon, but it’s still different. Jungkook told you that the transformation sensations would be different depending on the moon phase.

Jungkook steps closer, his hands gently gripping your arms.

“Don’t fight it,” he instructs. “Acknowledge the anger, the fear, but don’t let it take over. You control the shift, not the other way around.”

You swallow hard, nodding, trying to focus. But the thought of Yuna threatening your baby boy makes your wolf instincts emerge at the surface. Your fingertips tingle, and you swear you can feel your claws growing. Jungkook closely listens to your heartbeat and focuses on every emotion that he feels through your soulmate bond.

“Breathe, sunshine,” Jungkook reminds you, his voice grounding you like an anchor while the anger is slowly but surely taking over you. “Use that fire, but don’t let it consume you.”

Your chest rises and falls as you force yourself to breathe, to harness the emotions instead of drowning in them. You close your eyes, envisioning yourself standing firm. The power is still there, but instead of letting it erupt uncontrollably, you try to mold it, shaping it to your will.

Something you’ve noticed that seems to be working is thinking about the people you love and a good souvenir you have with them. Each time, it’s a different souvenir that seems to work. Today, your mind is brought back to a couple of months ago. To the day you met Jungkook.

It feels like it was a lifetime ago, yet it has only been four months. You can still perfectly picture him in that cold room, seconds before finding out about the mistake. He was so mysterious, yet undeniably charismatic. Something about him was drawing you in. After spending the past few weeks getting to know him, you’ve come to realize that the first version of him you met was his royal self. You met the king before you met your soulmate.

It was the beginning of this great adventure. An adventure where you get to become a mother. That thought warms your heart, and you feel yourself calming down.

When you open your eyes, they get blue. Jungkook smirks as he notices your blue eyes and claws.

“See? You’re getting there,” he says.

“It’s easy when you make me want to punch your ex,” you mumble, your fangs growing in your mouth.

Suddenly, a protective aura rises from within you. It’s strange and unfamiliar but extremely powerful. Is it the soulmate bond? Is it Jungkook trying to shield you? This is so new and pretty confusing.

“Is it you?” you ask, arching a brow at your boyfriend, your gaze locked on his.

“What?” he looks genuinely perplexed. “What am I doing?”

This is not him; you can tell by his expression. He’s not teasing you, he’s very serious. You frown, very confused with what is going on. What is this? Where is this coming from?

“What’s going on, yn?” Jungkook is getting worried.

Slowly, you shift back to your human form, too focused on trying to understand what is going on. You can’t really describe it, but it’s extremely powerful, and it’s coming from inside you. It feels like someone wrapped a blanket around you, a force trying to reassure you.  

“I don’t know,” you answer, your mind trying to find the source of this power.

You close your eyes, the world around you disappearing completely. It’s just you; even Jungkook disappears, which is kind of new. But then, a strong heartbeat echoes, reminding you that you’re not alone. There’s still your baby, the one growing inside you. His heartbeat had never been this strong. This is also new.

Slowly, you feel the heartbeat growing stronger while this protective aura grows as well. Then, it hits you. It is your baby boy. Your baby boy is protecting you. How is that even possible? Jungkook’s mother never mentioned anything about this. Did she forget? How could she? She had four kids.

Instinctively, your hands move to your stomach as if you’re trying to tell your son that you feel him. That you know it’s him.

You open your eyes again; they take back their blue and wolfish appearance. Jungkook is standing in front of you, worry written all over his face.

“It’s him,” you mumble while grabbing your boyfriend’s hand and placing it over your belly.

As his hand touches you, he instantly feels the power radiating from the baby, and it’s something unlike anything he’s ever encountered in his life. His entire body tenses as he feels this raw strength.

“How can it be?” he whispers, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t know,” you answer. “Nobody mentioned this.”

His breath stutters, and before he can suppress it, his wolf surges forward in response. His red eyes flash to the surface, instinct reacting to the sheer force of what he’s feeling. Jungkook exhales sharply, his fingers pressing harder against your stomach, but he’s still making sure not to hurt you.

“This is new,” he admits.

Jungkook had never felt anything like it. Not even from full-grown wolves at their strongest. And this… this is coming from someone who hasn’t even been born yet. He really doesn’t understand this. Is it related to the fact that you’re a hybrid? Is it related to the fact that he belongs to two different packs? Or is he simply a powerful werewolf? He will definitely do some research to understand this.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to focus, but your son's energy stirs something primal inside him. His wolf blood reacts to it, unable to resist and ignore your son's undeniable presence.

“He’s strong,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. He looks at you, then back down at your belly. “Really strong. I’ve never felt something like this.”

Jungkook is left with so many questions. Did his parents feel something like that during each pregnancy? Did even his sister feel this? For sure, he never felt anything this powerful whenever his sister would put his hand on her stomach.

For the first time since feeling it, his lips curve into a slow, almost disbelieving smirk.

“God help us and anybody else when he’s born.”

“You’re exaggerating,” you answer. “I’m sure Alphas are stronger than him.”

“Believe me, sunshine,” he retorts. “I can’t even tame my wolf side, and I’ve been in control of that side for many years.”

You seem not to fully believe him, thinking he’s likely overacting because it’s his son. But one thing is sure, your baby son is strong. That’s something you don’t doubt at all. And it leaves you wondering how it will be once he’s born.

Jungkook kneels down, his fingers pushing your shirt up before pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

“Seems like you’re a powerful little boy,” he whispers to your son. “And it excites me even more to meet you.”  

A smile spreads across your face as you watch him talking to your baby. Jungkook does this at least twice a day, in the morning and the evening, and it’s the cutest thing in the world. The obstetrician informed you that the baby’s father should talk to him every day so he’ll recognize his father’s voice by the time he’s born.

“I already love you so so much, my little man,” he presses another kiss.

He presses his forehead lightly against your stomach, eyes closed as he absorbs every pulse of energy radiating from your son. He smiles as he feels it, knowing that it’s the baby reacting to his voice. To his father’s voice. You watch Jungkook in awe. This fierce and formidable man surrenders to something so small yet already so mighty.

After a moment, a little chuckle escapes his lips, and he glances up at you. You furrow your brows, wondering what is going through his mind and why he’s chuckling.

“I hope he doesn’t give us too much trouble,” he says, his hot breath caressing your stomach and sending shivers down your spine. “Something tells me he’s going to be a handful.”

“Oh? And what makes you say that?” you smirk, tilting your head.

Jungkook gives you a pointed look, his hands sliding up to rest on your waist as he slowly rises to his feet. His hand pushes down your shirt to cover your baby bump while his red and wolfish eyes take back their brown and human form. 

“Well, for one, he’s your son,” he teases, a playful glint in his eyes. “Which means he’s going to be stubborn, unpredictable, and impossible to handle when he sets his mind on something.”

“Excuse me? As if you’re any better,” you gently hit his chest.

Jungkook lets out a deep laugh, his arms circling around you as he pulls you close, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Fair point,” he whispers. “Which means we’re doomed.”

You laugh, shaking your head, but deep down, you know he’s right. Your son isn’t even born yet, and he’s already proving to be strong. The thought sends a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation rushing through you. Sensing your emotions, Jungkook tightens his embrace and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“But no matter how strong he is,” he reassures you, his voice quieter now, “he’s ours. And we’ll figure it out together.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you nod, resting your head against his chest. You know that no matter what happens, you’ll have Jungkook by your side. You won’t be facing anything alone, and honestly, you don’t want it any other way.

Today, you wonder how things would have turned out if the clinic had never told you about the mistake. Most probably, you would have never met Jungkook, and you would be dealing with this crazy pregnancy by yourself. You also wonder if things would have been the same if Jungkook wasn’t the father of your baby.

If you got inseminated by the donor you chose, would the pregnancy have awoken all your wolf abilities? That’s something you’ll never know, but you’re grateful that things went this way because you got to discover yourself.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Together.”

Jungkook’s mother and sister, together with her kids, are here to pay you a little visit. Since you’ve gotten to meet his family, you’ve grown closer to them. Most of them were a bit skeptical at first due to your nature, but they saw you beyond it. You’re a person, just like them, and you also are a werewolf. His mother actually loves you; she can spend hours with you, and you love spending some time with her. She’s been helping you a lot with the pregnancy.

“I’ve done some research about this whole hybrid law,” his mother informs you while you watch Jungkook holding his youngest nephew.

His nephew, Taemin, is only seven weeks old. He’s so tiny but so adorable, and Jungkook loves to be around him. It’s like he’s preparing himself before your son finally joins you. He turns around to look at his mother when she speaks.

“Why?” he furrows.

“I was intrigued,” she explains. “We all followed the rule so blindly, and we never truly wondered why.”

“Not everyone,” he points out.

She nods, remembering that her husband and son didn’t really follow the rule. All because of you. But today, she’s glad they didn’t.

“In your father’s personal library, I first found a book explaining the reasons behind each rule in our world,” she begins. “The reasons for the hybrid law weren’t really clear, but they implied that a king put it in place due to a threat. I wasn’t really convinced by this explanation because it didn’t make any sense. So, I kept looking.”

You and Jungkook are listening very closely to what she’s saying. You’re intrigued to discover what she found out.

“Eventually, I came across an ancient book,” she continues. “A book written by one of your ancestors, King Yisun. In it, he relates that he had a friend who could apparently see the future. This friend foresaw that one day, a powerful ‘mixed’ werewolf would rise to become king. By ‘mixed’, he meant half-human and half-werewolf.”

She pauses, letting the weight of that revelation settle in.

“King Yisun feared that such a werewolf would pose a threat to his reign, so he took drastic measures. He outlawed unions between werewolves and humans, ensuring that no hybrid could ever be born. And to further protect the throne, he decreed that only members of the Blood’s Pack could be part of the royal bloodline.”

“So, you’re saying that a king out of paranoia or fear or whatever decided to ban hybrids?” Dohee, Jungkook’s sister, says.

“That’s what it seems like.”

Even though it might sound crazy, King Yisun lived centuries ago. The world was completely different. What seemed like a threat back then isn’t one anymore. He feared for himself and his reign and did what he could to protect that. However, this law killed a lot of people, your parents included.

“Well, today, it sounds like a very stupid decision, but we can’t forget that King Yisun reigned in the 16th century. He did what he thought was best for himself,” Jungkook begins. “But the most foolish people were the kings that came after and maintained that law without even knowing why.”

You couldn’t agree more with him. For King Yisun, it made sense to create this rule, but for the others after, it didn’t. Most of them didn’t know why this rule was made but still kept it. It’s such an outdated rule. The irony is that the friend was right after all. Your son, a ‘mixed’ werewolf, will one day become a king. Your son will be the first king to carry human blood. He’ll be the first one not to be a hundred percent a werewolf.

“In the end, King Yisun’s friend was right,” Dohee says with a smile on her face. “A mixed werewolf will be king, but only centuries later.”

Jungkook smiles while he looks at you. He looks damn great with a child in his arms, and this will be a vision that you’ll daily have very soon. Father Jungkook looks great on him.

“Indeed,” you reply.

“Well,” Jungkook begins, his eyes still on yours. “I don’t think King Yisun could ever imagine how powerful that hybrid would be.”

His mother and sister look at him, confusion written all over their faces.

“What do you mean?” his mother asks as she frowns.

“Can we tell them?” he asks you through thoughts.

You nod, silently encouraging him to go on. They should know about it. Maybe they can even help you understand this better. Maybe they will even tell you that Jungkook is wrong. At least, that’s what you want to believe. He lets out a slow breath before speaking again.

“I can already feel him,” he says, his voice quieter. “Not just in the way any expecting father would. I mean, I can feel him. His presence, his power. And it’s unlike anything I’ve ever known.”

“Wait… are you saying…” Dohee blinks.

Her eyes go from you to Jungkook, and you both nod, confirming what she thinks.

“He’s still in the womb, and yet his power is strong enough to stir my wolf. The other day, yn could feel him protecting her, and when I touched her stomach, it hit me so intensely that I could barely contain myself. My eyes changed without even realizing it.”

His mother seems extremely confused and surprised.

“I know we can feel babies when they’re still in the womb. I mean, I experienced it with you, Dohee, but this was very much different.”  

“Maybe we can try to do what we did the other day so you can see for yourselves,” you suggest to his mother and sister.

They both nod, more than eager to experience your son’s power firsthand.

“Okay, then let’s do it,” Jungkook answers.

Your boyfriend places his nephew in the crib while you stand up. Once the baby is lying down, Jungkook walks in your direction. He stands tall in front of you, his mother and sister very close to you.

“Imagine again, Yuna threatening you and our son. Imagine her being here, angry as hell.”

You close your eyes, seeing her face all over again. You don’t really like this, but man, if you can feel your baby’s warmth again, it’ll be worth it. Jisoo and Dohee look closely at you, understanding that you’re trying to tame your emotions and the wolf inside you. You take deep breaths, your mind focusing on not losing control.

You can feel the first signs of the transformation, your claws growing in your hands, and you know your eyes have taken their wolf aspect. Slowly, you sense, for the second time, the power radiating from within you. A warmth spreads inside you, like it’s trying to protect you from the outside world. However, this time around, the protective aura makes you blend into your background.

“It’s him,” you tell them. “He made me disappear.”

A smile grows on your face while your hands snail down to caress your stomach.

“It’s okay, my wolfy,” you whisper to your baby. “Nobody is going to hurt us.”

Although you wish to reappear so they can all feel your son’s strong energy, this is him protecting you. This isn’t up to you. It’s up to him. But as you gently stroke your stomach trying to reassure your baby, you slowly get back into vision. Instantly, your hand grabs Jisoo’s hand to place it on your stomach.

“Oh,” she says with evident surprise.

Then, Jungkook and Dohee also place their hands on your bump. They feel it too, the strong energy coming from inside you. The three of them struggle to contain their wolf side, their eyes turning red. You smile because damn, this little kid is already so so powerful, and it’s your son. You couldn’t be prouder.     

His mother inhales sharply, her lips parting slightly as she’s definitely struggling to tame her wolf side. The energy your son is giving off stirs something primal inside the three of them. Their wolf bloods react to it, unable to resist and ignore your son's undeniable presence.

“This is not normal,” she finally says. “Not even Alphas can do that before birth.”

“Woow,” Dohee says. “I’ve never met someone so powerful. Let alone someone that isn’t even born yet. How is it for you?” her red eyes meet your blue ones.

“It feels like someone is placing a warm blanket around me, like someone is trying to protect me from the outside world. It feels extremely powerful, but in a good way,” you explain.  

“And if he’s this powerful now, imagine what he’ll be like when he’s born,” his mother says before she removes her hand.

Dohee lets out a low whistle, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Damn, no wonder King Yisun was terrified of a hybrid becoming king. If your son is already radiating power before even taking his first breath…” she trails off, clearly stunned.

His mother, however, remains silent for a moment, deep in thought. She sits down on the couch, trying to understand what she just experienced. Then, slowly, a smile tugs at her lips.

“Then maybe,” she says softly, “he’s exactly what this kingdom has always needed.”

“What could be the reason?” Dohee wonders. “I mean, he’s already mixed from being a child of the Bloods and the Shadows. There are millions of mixed werewolves, and they never were this powerful. And on top of that, he carries human blood.”

“Yn and him are the first hybrids. We know nothing about them, so we’re discovering everything through them,” Jungkook begins. “Maybe human blood only makes them stronger and not weaker.” Well, you don’t know what makes your son so special, but one thing is for sure. You are already so proud and so in love with him.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Man Called Danger 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You avoid drama, you avoid confrontation, and overall, you avoid men. But some men can’t be denied. ~ short!late 30s reader

Characters: biker!Bucky Barnes

Note: I didn't think I'd be writing rn but I had a pretty restless night despite my best efforts. Mostly just me fixating on noises and not being able to sleep.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You idle outside the corporate facade, fidgeting, looking side to side, mirror to mirror, listening for the thunderous engine. Your grip and ungrip the wheel, unable to slacken your jaw as you huff through your nose. Your heart hammers on your tender ribs and your foot wiggles incessantly. 

You replay the calamitous scene over and over in your head. Your mind sticks to the last vision; that grin. That's a promise. A man like that only smiles with good reason and you don't expect he gets his jollies from fuzzy kittens and butterflies. 

A tap on the window makes you jump. You look over as Eva waves through the glass. You check the clock. You've been there for half an hour. 

You unlock the door and she falls in with a sigh. "Hey, hey," she chimes. “What happened to your car?” 

“Huh, oh--” you sniff and look in the rear view again. Your little act of panicked defiance must have earned a few extra scratches. “Wasn’t paying attention backing out. Just hit a fence.” 

She cackles, “really? Well, not that it makes a difference with this old shitheap.” 

You give her a long look. “You're in a good mood. How was your first day?" 

"Pretty damn great," she snaps her seat belt into place. "Pretty chill job. I just kinda mess with the printer between endless lattes." 

You nod, "sounds like heaven." 

"Boss is super cool. He's really chatty," she preens. 

Right, you're sure that has nothing to do with her looks. You want to caution her but you also don't want to spoil this for her. You're sure it's nothing. Not that you could offer her much advice. You were never the type to draw any sort of office scandal. 

"Just make sure you do your work," you pull away from the curb, shifting in your seat. 

You teethe your lip and let it flick out. You keep up the nervous tick as you hunch behind the wheel. You focus on the road, trying not to think of everything else; that man and his motorcycle, the length of Eva's skirt, Mr. Walker's reminders. 

"I take it your day wasn't great," she scoffs. 

You squeeze the wheel, "huh?" 

"You gonna tear that thing off?" She asks. 

You exhale and push your shoulders down before they can touch your ears. You swallow, "usual, you know..." 

What do you do? You're not stupid, that man isn't going to play around. He's not going to be anything less than blunt. He had the gall to show up at your work. How he knew where to find you... well, you can't be certain he isn't waiting at your front door. 

You stop at the red sign and check the rear view, ears perked for any rumble. You tut and hiss out another breath.  

"Right, well, I know you're not really a fan but you need a glass of wine," she says. 

You shrug, "probably." 

She hums, "seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?" 

"Nothing, nothing," you lie. "Just... you wanna get dinner somewhere?" 

"Uh, what? Am I hearing you right? You want to eat out?" She chuckles, "alright, something's gotta be wrong." 

"No, I'm... you got through your first day, it'll be a celebration," the lie rolls out all too easy. You've never been challenged at that, but you found it easier to be quiet than deceitful. Lies are shields, not weapons. "Your choice." 

The car behind you honks. You turn just to get out of their way. 

"Oh, you like ramen? There's a place that does spicy noodles just right," she makes a ridiculous gesture with her hand, kissing her fingertips. 

"I can try it," you trawl down the street slowly, "is it down town?" 

"Yeah, back a few streets," she wiggles and claps her hands, "oh, I'm so excited." 

"Really?" You wonder. 

"Well, yeah! When's the last time we did anything fun? Together?" 

"Ha, yeah," you agree hollowly. 

She sits up, and you can see her smile in the mirror. You sense her brightness dim just a little. "Um, last night..." 

"Eva, we agreed to move past it," you scratch your cheek, keeping your other hand firmly on the wheel. You don't want to think about last night or that man. You're hoping the restaurant will be an escape from that. If he has found his way to your house, he might not want to wait around that long. "Let's start over. This job will help with that." 

"Sure," she agrees softly. "It's just... I do feel bad. That he pushed you like that." 

"Well, it's not the worst I've dealt with," you say without thinking. 

She wallows, "it's not?" 

She didn't know your dad. You're happy for that. You shrug. 

"It's nothing," you assure her. "Really." 

"Mom mentioned... you know, that he wasn't very nice--" 

"I can barely remember," you assure her as your skull itches. You remember the bad times; the blunt force, the stinging slaps, the screaming. Even after all those years. "So let's just not think about yesterday, let's enjoy tonight." 

She nods, "yeah, sure... I... I can do that." 

"Oh, you've always been much better at having fun than me," you snort. 

💀

The restaurant is nice enough but not too fancy to make you feel a slob. Eva fits anywhere she goes. She’s just that pretty.

You wonder if it’s just your own insecurity speaking. You’ve aged out of the years where clothes and makeup were your sole concern. You never really worried too much about the latter, you did just enough to be presentable. 

You look at the menu, mulling chicken or shrimp. Eva takes the smaller menu from the middle of the table. 

“They’ve got saki. You should try some. I’ll drive home,” she offers. 

You look at her. She grins and giggles. You tilt your head. 

“I love that look,” she chimes. “You do it really good. It’s scary.” 

“What look?” 

“Oh, you know, mom called it the murder stare. As much as a mess as she is, you know, she used to say you were like grandma.” 

“Grandma?” You click your tongue and sigh. That old bitter hen. “Well, be glad that you can’t confirm that.” 

“Was she really that bad?” Eva asks. 

You shrug, “I was young for most of our... relationship. To a little girl, she was a villain.” 

Your sister nod and puts the menu down. She looks around. “I really appreciate this. And I did my best not to be too much today. You know? And Mr. Hansen...” she taps her nails on the table. “He’s so cool. I think it’ll be good. And if I stick around, maybe you could switch over. Since your job is so shitty.” 

“It’s not shitty. It’s just... a job,” you sit back as you close the menu and settle on chicken. “Won’t be much different either way. I don’t want you to stick around too long. This is to get you into school, right?” 

“Yeah. I know but... I can work and go to classes.” 

You smile, “I’m glad you’re thinking this out.” 

“Well, I’m still going to have fun. You know, Lindsay wants to get some sushi this weekend so...” 

“Ah, well, don’t spend all your money in one place,” you warn. 

“Yes, ma’am,” she snipes back. You meet her eye as she stares. “How did you ever grow up with mom?” 

You make a face, “I don’t know how i made it through either.” 

“Um, excuse me,” the server steps up to the table, setting down two glasses. “Ginger mojitos for the table.” 

You set the menu down and look at him, “oh, I think you’ve got the wrong one. But we’re ready to order.” 

“Ma’am, they’re from the gentleman.” He nods over his shoulder. You can’t see past him as Eva leans back to glance across. 

“Oh,” you swallow and look at your sister. Is this why she goes out? All the freebies from lecherous strangers? “Right. Well, I’ll have the spicy noodles with chicken dumplings, please.” 

Eva waves past the server. You shift awkwardly. It’s so embarrassing. You’re just the old hanger-on. 

“Shrimp, street-style for me, please and thanks,” Eva says. 

“Water too, if you don’t mind,” you add. You don’t know you’ll finish the cocktail. 

“Wow, that’s so sweet,” Eva sits back as she takes the tall glass and sips from the narrow straw. She hums. “Oh, it’s like... ginger ale-y.” 

She smiles and raises the glass in a gesture across the restaurant. You keep your head down. 

“You should try it,” she chirps. 

“Well, one of us needs to drive.” 

“Oh, one drink with dinner is under the limit.” She goads. “Huh, he looks familiar.” 

“You know more people than me.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t know where I’ve seen him,” she mutters and slurps again. 

The server returns with the water. You feel a pulse in your ears. Whoever it is, is staring. Likely not at you but your sister. Still, you’re ready to wilt. 

Mindlessly, your hand slips down to your blouse and you feel along your ribs. She exhales. 

“Does it hurt still?” 

You shrug and drop your hand. 

“Johnny’s such a dick.” 

“I agree,” you say tritely. “Tell me you’re not going to talk to him again.” 

“Not after that,” she pouts. 

You’re quiet. She traces her fingertips on the table top and she shifts. She looks around and leans forward. 

“So... are you ever going to start dating?” She asks. 

You blink and your lips part. She smirks. 

“The murder look, again,” she taunts. 

You sigh and lift your brows, trying to whittle away the tension in your jaw. “It’s not really a priority.” 

“Well, why not? I’m out of school, I’m grown. And you’re not that old.” 

“Wow, thanks, not that old,” you muse wryly. 

“And cute men are buying you drinks,” she trills. 

“I don’t think he sent them because of me,” you argue. 

“Well, he isn’t looking at me,” she retorts. 

“Eva,” you drawl flatly. 

“I think it’d be cute. I mean, I’ve never seen you with anyone. Mom never mentioned, or you...” 

“Yeah, well, men are more trouble than they’re worth.” 

“Oof, I really want to know who hurt you,” she teases. 

You resist another terse sneer. Aside from your father and the train of your mother’s bad decisions, no one worth thinking about. This dinner isn’t going to be spoiled by bad memories. 

“I’m not a people person,” you intone. 

“Oh, he’s really staring at you. We should send a drink back.” 

“No,” you say sharply. 

“He looks your age. And he’s not bad on the eye. Not exactly who I’d peg as your type. A bit too rough around the edges but oh, it’s cute.” 

“Eva,” you warm. You take the glass of water and dare a peek across. You nearly choke on your gulp of water. Shit. 

You quickly turn back to the table and put the water down. You press the napkin to your lips. The man in leather. His jacket is folded across the seat next to him, the gold medallion shining against his black shirt, his eyes gleaming. How... 

“You okay?” Eva asks. 

“Yes, I just... I forgot to file something at work.” 

“Right,” she squints. “You’re so jumpy tonight.” 

“I didn’t sleep well,” you say. It’s not a lie. 

You repress a shudder and tamp down the panic in your chest. He’s there, watching you. Those drinks were his signal. He’s not going away. He won’t forget what you did. If anything, you sealed your own fate. 

Why couldn’t you keep your head down like always? Why couldn’t you just be the rock they get bored of when you don’t react? Why did you do that to a man like him? 

You don’t know a thing about him but you can see clear enough he isn’t a man to walk away. You can only hope he’s only in need of your insurance information. You’ll take the added fees if it gets him out of your hair. 

[sarahisspeaking06]

thank you all

im feeling a bit better posting on here again. im sorry if i dont respond to everyone its a bit overwhelming i wasnt expecting so many people to reach out to me like that. i cant thank all of you enough for being here for me

i cant answer a lot of questions because i dont know how to answer them. im really sorry but i dont want to talk about what i saw on that tape. i get really nauseous and it feels like im alone in the basement again and i cant od it mi sorry. i doont want to talk about eliot or ella either

i just want to know what my mom was involved with and why she really left. i dont know i f i want to learn about my dad or uncle. if theyre still there, i dont think i want to know them

i feel stuck. i dont want to see something like that again but i cant stop thinking about it. i cant draw or read or play games anymore and i cant talk to anyone else about this. if im not writing on here, then who can i talk to?

and please dont tell me to call the police too many people are telling me i should but i cant do that okay?

i want to do something but i dont know what. i want to know more but i dont know how much more of this i can actually take. i dont know what todo

im feeling really tired so im going to try and get some sleep. good night everyone

[scoupsakakitty]

Hiiii! I’ve been looooving your works so much and since my birthday was coming, I decided to finally make a request. Iwas wondering if you could write an idol Woozi x reader story for me? Feel free to choose the plot of the story:>> I loveeee angsty beginnings and fluffy endings~ Thank you so much!

Forever | idol!Woozi x Reader | angst, fluff

The night before her birthday should have been filled with excitement, but instead, Y/N’s heart was heavy with disappointment. Woozi stood in front of her, his expression unreadable, his hands clenched at his sides.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, his voice steady but filled with regret. “I have to go to Japan tomorrow. There���s an urgent studio recording that can’t wait.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Tomorrow? My birthday, Woozi? Are you serious?”

He sighed. “I didn’t plan for this to happen. It was sudden, and I—”

“Didn’t think to say no?” she interrupted, her voice rising. “You never have time for me as it is, and now, on my birthday, you’re leaving?”

Woozi’s jaw tightened. “It’s not like I want to go, Y/N. It’s my job.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, your job. Of course. Because your job is always more important than me, right? I get it.”

His eyes darkened. “That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is being in a relationship with someone who doesn’t even prioritize me on my birthday. I deserve better than this, Woozi.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected. He stared at her, speechless. Y/N crossed her arms, her anger masking the hurt she felt deep inside.

“Sleep on the couch tonight,” she muttered before turning away, refusing to meet his gaze.

Woozi didn’t argue. He simply nodded and left the room, the weight of her words pressing down on him.

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a heavy heart. She instinctively reached for Woozi, but his side of the bed was empty. He was gone.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she grabbed her phone and called the one person who could always make her feel better—Minghao.

“Hey, are you busy?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Not at all,” he replied immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N sniffled. “Woozi left. He really went to Japan. On my birthday.”

Minghao sighed. “I’m sorry, Y/N. That sucks.”

“I just… I feel so stupid for thinking he’d put me first just this once.”

“You’re not stupid,” Minghao reassured her. “Listen, don’t spend your birthday sulking. Let’s go out. I have an idea.”

She hesitated before nodding. “Okay.”

Meanwhile, Woozi wasn’t in Japan at all. He was in Busan, setting up a surprise party at a beautiful beach house he had rented. With the help of a few members, he was decorating the space, making sure everything was perfect.

“She was really upset, wasn’t she?” Seungcheol asked as he adjusted the lights on the patio.

Woozi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. She said some pretty hurtful things, but I can’t blame her. If I were really leaving her alone on her birthday, that would be terrible.”

“She’ll understand once she gets here,” Joshua said reassuringly. “You’re doing something amazing for her.”

“I hope so,” Woozi murmured.

Back in Seoul, Minghao had successfully convinced Y/N to go on a short trip with him. She had no idea that they were heading to Busan, let alone that a surprise awaited her.

When they arrived at the beach house, Y/N was confused. “Minghao, why are we here?”

He grinned. “Just trust me.”

As she stepped inside, the lights flickered on, and everyone shouted, “Happy Birthday, Y/N!”

Her breath hitched as she took in the scene—balloons, decorations, a beautifully arranged dinner table, and, most importantly, Woozi standing in the center, looking at her with a soft smile.

Tears filled her eyes as she ran into his arms. “You weren’t in Japan?”

He chuckled. “Nope.”

“I was so mean to you,” she whispered against his chest.

“It’s okay,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I understand why you were upset. But I would never leave you alone on your birthday.”

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter, food, and celebration. Y/N couldn’t believe the effort Woozi had put into making her birthday special.

As the sun began to set, Woozi took her hand and led her to the beach. The golden hues of the sunset reflected off the gentle waves, casting a warm glow over everything. The sound of the waves filled the silence between them as they walked barefoot on the sand.

To her surprise, dozens of white roses were carefully stuck into the sand, their delicate petals swaying slightly in the ocean breeze. Scattered rose petals surrounded them, and candles flickered softly, casting a warm, golden light across the beach.

Y/N gasped. “Woozi… this is beautiful.”

Woozi took a deep breath, his hands slightly trembling. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say.”

She turned to face him, her heart pounding.

He knelt on one knee and took her hand in his, his eyes filled with nothing but love. “Y/N, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. From the moment you walked into my life, everything changed. You have shown me love, patience, and a kind of happiness I never thought was possible. I know my job takes me away sometimes, and I know I can be difficult, but through everything, you’ve stood by my side.”

Tears streamed down her face as he continued. “I never want to wake up without you beside me. I never want another day to go by where I don’t tell you how much I love you. I want to make you the happiest person in the world, because you make me the happiest man alive. So, Y/N… will you marry me?”

She let out a sob, covering her mouth with her hands before nodding vigorously. “Yes! A thousand times, yes!”

Woozi slipped the ring onto her finger before standing up and pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. The waves crashed gently behind them, as if celebrating with them.

When they returned to the beach house, the members immediately noticed the ring and erupted into cheers.

“OH MY GOD!” Seungkwan shrieked. “SHE SAID YES!”

“I KNEW IT!” Joshua grinned, pulling Woozi into a hug.

Mingyu ruffled Woozi’s hair. “Congrats, man. You finally did it.”

Y/N laughed through her tears as Jeonghan hugged her. “You’re stuck with him forever now. Sure you can handle that?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she beamed.

As they all celebrated, Woozi pulled her close, whispering, “Happy birthday, my love. Here’s to forever.”

[lyn31]

These fluff and pregnancy Zayne are so sweet and I love it! Can you do a continuation of the pregnancy connected to the part of where he stays home with reader finally! How he’s so sweet and attentive to reader throughout the days/nights (When he already is😭). That makes reader cry/very emotional in front him cuz she realizes how lucky she is and how much Zayne really loves her. Zayne comforts her and tells her how silly she is. Thank you I appreciate it.🫶🏻✨🥹

I was gonna say y'all are in the pregnancy brainrot but I feel like now I am as well 😭 Even when I write this I was like "Gosh this is too cute help *make it cuter*" Hopefully this is what you have in mind! 🫶🏻😂

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Lingers

Summary

A tender, slow-paced story of love, quiet devotion, and the quiet yet profound intimacy of daily life as you and Zayne prepare for the arrival of your child.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Beware of the absolute sweetness!

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When you wake up, you feel a cool touch resting against your lower belly—not gripping, just there. A steady presence. The same coolness lingers against the back of your neck, his breath fanning lightly over your skin.

A glance at the nightstand tells you it’s already nine in the morning. It’s been a week since Zayne started his extended leave, and you’ve both settled into a routine of staying in bed a little longer than usual.

You try to shift, but even with the pillow supporting your stomach, an 'oof' slips out at the effort. Now in your third trimester, you can’t help but notice just how much you’ve grown. You know it will happen, of course, but knowing and actually experiencing it are two very different things.

“Zayne?” You glance back at him, reaching out to touch his cheek. He stirs slightly, leaning into your touch before his eyes flutter open.

He hums, nestling closer against your neck, his voice hoarse from sleep. “Something wrong?”

You shake your head, shifting again as much as you can. He notices immediately, his hand shifting from your belly to your waist, rubbing slow, soothing circles. “Uncomfortable?”

“A little,” you admit.

Without a word, he adjusts, propping himself up on one elbow as he shifts the pillow to better support your stomach. He watches you for a second, then smooths his palm over your belly again, as if checking for any tension. “Better?”

You nod, sighing softly as the weight on your body eases just a little. Zayne presses a light kiss to your shoulder, his lips cool yet comforting.

“Do you want to sleep a little longer?” he asks, his voice gentle, but you can already feel the way he’s watching you closely, making sure you’re okay.

You shake your head. “I think I’m up now.”

He hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t move away, his fingers continuing their slow, absentminded motions against your skin. A few quiet moments pass like this, the two of you cocooned in the warmth of the bed, before Zayne finally murmurs, “Are you hungry?”

Your stomach answers first, a soft grumble filling the quiet, and you huff, pressing your face into the pillow as he lets out a low chuckle.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He presses another kiss to your shoulder before sitting up. “Stay here. I’ll make breakfast.”

You pout slightly, reaching out to snag his wrist before he can leave the bed. “But you’re warm.”

Zayne raises a brow, amused. “Am I?”

“You are to me,” you grumble.

His lips twitch like he wants to smile, but instead, he leans down, brushing his lips against your forehead. “I’ll be quick.”

Zayne returns not long after, carrying a wooden breakfast tray, the same one he’s used every morning since his leave started, but that doesn’t stop you from staring at it like it’s ridiculous.

“Should I start expecting a menu next?” you say flatly.

Unbothered, he sets the tray on the nightstand first, then turns back to you. “Sit up.”

You sigh but let him help, not that you have much choice. He moves the pillows behind you again, propping you up so that your back is fully supported. Once you’re settled, he smooths his hands over your arms like he’s checking to make sure you’re comfortable before finally reaching for the tray.

He places it gently in front of you, adjusting its legs so it rests neatly on the bed. The scent of warm eggs, fruit, and something slightly sweet fills the air. You glance down—scrambled eggs with cheese, whole-grain toast, a side of sliced fruit, and a small bowl of yogurt with granola. Off to the side, a glass of what looks like a smoothie, pale green but blended smoothly enough that you can’t taste the spinach he definitely snuck in there.

Zayne settles beside you, his own plate in hand. “Let’s eat.”

You shake your head, huffing. “You really don’t have to do this every morning, you know.”

He gives you a pointed look. “I know.” Then, softer, “But I want to.”

That makes your chest ache a little. You don’t say anything else, just pick up your fork and take a bite. The eggs are still warm, fluffy with just the right amount of cheese melted in.

Zayne watches for a moment before nodding in approval and starting on his own plate.

For a while, the two of you eat in peaceful quiet, the occasional clink of utensils against plates the only thing breaking the quiet. It’s domestic in a way that feels so natural now, like this has always been your life together.

And maybe that’s why your chest aches yet again—because this feels too good, too right.

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You sigh contentedly as you stretch, already anticipating the warmth of the bath. Zayne is, as always, by your side, his hands moving with practiced ease as he helps you out of your maternity clothes. By now, it’s routine—something you never have to ask for because he does it without hesitation. But today, you’re feeling a little mischievous, well more than usual anyway.

Just as his fingers move to unfasten the last bit of fabric, you press your hand over his. “Nope, you’re banned from bath duty today,” you announce, lifting your chin playfully. “I want to bathe by myself.”

Zayne pauses, then tilts his head slightly. “It’ll be easier with my help,” he reminds you, voice calm as ever.

You huff, shooting him a smirk. “It’ll also take longer with you around.”

His brow lifts just a fraction. “And why is that?”

You give him a knowing look. “Oh, you know why.”

“I don’t, actually.” His tone is perfectly polite, but you can see the way he presses his lips together, obviously holding back a smile.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I don't think playing innocent will save you.”

He hums, unimpressed by your accusation, but doesn’t deny it. Instead, his gaze flickers lower, scanning you in that thoughtful way he does when he’s about to make a point. Then, with perfect seriousness, he says, “I don’t think you can even reach your own legs.”

You gasp in dramatic offense. “The audacity.”

Zayne doesn’t even blink.

“If I could, I’d stomp on your foot right now.”

“Mm.” He nods, like he’s truly considering it. “Good thing you can’t, then.”

You scoff and turn away, nose in the air, though the effect is probably lost considering how slow and careful you have to be while moving. Behind you, Zayne chuckles, and before you can take another step, his arms slip around you from behind, hands resting over the swell of your belly.

“I don’t remember you complaining before,” he murmurs, his cool lips pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

Warmth spreads through you—not just from his touch, but from the way he still looks at you, like you’re everything to him, even now, with all the changes in your body. Like he’s still crazy about you, just the same as before.

You laugh, tilting your head to the side so you can meet his eyes. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” He kisses your shoulder again before you can answer.

You don’t argue, simply catch his lips in a quick, soft kiss. You sigh dramatically, placing your hand over his. “Alright, dear.” You squeeze his fingers before turning in his hold. “Come on, then.”

Zayne exhales lightly, as if this outcome is obvious from the start. “That was short-lived.”

You roll your eyes. “And here I thought you were smart enough to know when I’m messing with you.”

Zayne huffs a quiet laugh, his grip on your waist steady. “You’re a menace.”

“And yet, you never stop indulging me.” You smile, tilting your head. “What does that say about you?”

“That I know exactly what you want.” His voice is calm, but the glint in his eyes is unmistakable.

He presses another kiss to your shoulder, then—without another word—takes your hand and leads you toward the bathroom.

You don’t hesitate, a smile already tugging at your lips. You never really wanted to bathe alone, anyway.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zayne wraps a towel around you, his touch gentle as he pats away any lingering droplets. He doesn’t rush or dry you off in the most efficient way possible—he takes his time, smoothing his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, over the curve of your belly. It’s practical, yes, but there’s something so tender in the way he does it, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

You hum softly, stretching your arms a little. “At this rate, I should start tipping you.”

Zayne huffs a quiet laugh, kneeling down as he carefully helps you step into your underwear. “Your presence is payment enough.”

You snort. “That was smooth.”

His gaze lifts, calm as ever. “I meant it.”

“Very dramatic of you, husband,” you tease, but your voice comes out softer than you expected.

He doesn’t argue, simply stands and grabs the softest maternity dress you own, holding it open for you. You slip your arms through the sleeves, letting him pull it over your head. His fingers brush your skin as he adjusts the fabric, smoothing it over your belly. He lingers there, both hands resting over the swell, his thumbs absently tracing small circles.

Your breath catches for a moment. It’s not like this is new—Zayne has been touching you with the same quiet adoration since the beginning—but something about it gets you right in the chest.

His cool lips press against your forehead, lingering. “Comfortable?”

You nod, swallowing past the sudden tightness in your throat.

He watches you, eyes sharp as ever. “You’re looking at me like you have something to say.”

You do. But you just shake your head and smile, pressing your hands over his. “Just thinking about how much I love you.”

Zayne hums, squeezing your fingers lightly. “That makes two of us.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The afternoon passes in the kind of quiet comfort that has become routine now. The two of you aren’t doing anything particularly special—just existing together, moving through the day with ease—somehow, it still feels like something worth treasuring.

You’re settled on the couch, legs stretched out in front of you, pillows stacked behind your back for support. Zayne is next to you, flipping through a medical journal, but you can tell he’s still keeping an eye on you. He always is.

Reaching for your water, you realize it’s just beyond your grasp. You barely shift forward when, without even looking up from his reading, Zayne reaches over and pushes the glass closer to you.

You pause, glancing at him. “You’re really on autopilot at this point, huh?”

“Hm?” He finally lifts his gaze.

You pick up the glass. “You didn’t even look. Just moved it like it was instinct.”

Zayne tilts his head slightly, as if he doesn’t see why that’s worth pointing out. “You needed it.”

You shake your head, amused, and take a slow sip.

Later, when the two of you return from a short grocery run—you still insist on doing them—Zayne grabs all the bags before you even get the chance to reach for one.

“Seriously?” You huff, crossing your arms. “I can at least carry one.”

Zayne merely glances at you, then keeps walking toward the kitchen, entirely unmoved.

You narrow your eyes at his back. “I’m not made of glass, you know.”

“Mm.” He hums as he sets the bags down, completely ignoring your protest.

You roll your eyes, but warmth spreads through you all the same. He’s always been like this—so effortlessly attentive.

By the time you’re back on the couch, your legs are starting to feel a little sore, the weight of the day settling in. You stretch them out, flexing your ankles absently. Before you can say anything, Zayne is already kneeling beside you, pushing up the hem of your dress just enough to reach your calves.

His hands move with practiced ease, cool palms smoothing over your skin as his thumbs press into the muscle, kneading slow, deliberate circles.

You sigh, sinking deeper into the cushions. “You know, I don’t even have to ask anymore.”

Zayne glances up briefly, the corners of his lips barely tilting. “Did you ever have to?”

You laugh softly, reaching down to brush your fingers through his hair. “No. I guess not.”

He presses a light kiss to your knee before continuing his massage, as if to prove his point.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The evening air is cool, the room dimly lit, casting everything in a soft, golden glow. You’re tucked into bed, comfortably warm beneath the blankets, with Zayne behind you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. His other hand rests against your belly, cool against your skin even through the fabric of your nightgown.

You’re already drifting, caught in that hazy space between wakefulness and sleep, when Zayne shifts slightly. He tucks the pillow better beneath your belly, adjusting things without thinking, the same way he does every night. Then his hand finds its way back to you, smoothing over your stomach in slow, absentminded strokes.

You shift slightly, pressing back against him, feeling the steady, reassuring weight of his arm around you. Your fingers brush over his where they rest against you, tracing absent patterns as your breathing evens out.

And then it settles in—that this is routine. That his care is constant, unwavering, something you never have to ask for because he just knows. Something about that realization tugs at you, something warm and fragile all at once.

Your throat tightens.

You don’t know why it hits you now.

Maybe it’s the quiet. The way his presence surrounds you so completely. The steady weight of his hand, instinctive, like it belongs there. Maybe it’s just hormones.

He does this every night.

He tucks you in just right. He makes sure you're warm, but not too warm. He keeps his hand on you, as if protecting you even in sleep.

Like he belongs here. Like you belong here.

Tears burn at your eyes before you can stop them.

Oh, no.

You inhale sharply, blinking fast, but it’s no use. The realization—the sheer depth of how much he loves you, how effortlessly he cares for you—comes crashing down, quiet but undeniable.

A sniffle escapes before you can swallow it down.

Zayne stills. Then, a soft inhale. “Darling?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “No.”

A pause. Then, amusement laces his voice. “No?”

You shake your head against the pillow, voice thick. “You’re being too sweet again.”

His chest moves in a silent chuckle, but he doesn’t tease you—not this time. Instead, he shifts closer, pressing a kiss against the back of your head, then lower, to your shoulder. “Is that so?” His voice is quiet, warm, meant only for you.

You sniffle harder. “Yes.”

Another kiss, this time against the side of your neck. “And what exactly did I do?”

You groan, hiding your face against the pillow. “Just—this! All of this! You always take care of me, you always make sure I’m okay, even when I don’t ask—” Your voice wobbles, and another tear slips free. “You love me too much, it’s not fair.”

Zayne exhales, softly exasperated but infinitely patient. “I see,” he murmurs. “What a terrible thing. Having a husband who adores you.”

You sniffle again. “It is.”

He hums, entirely unconvinced. His arm tightens around you, pulling you even closer, as if that’s possible. His palm spreads over your stomach, a steady, protective weight. Steady circles over every part of you he can reach.

Slowly, he shifts, his chin coming to rest lightly against the top of your head, his cool breath stirring your hair. “I suppose there’s no helping it,” he says, the words a quiet rumble against you. “You’re stuck with me, after all.”

A shuddering breath escapes you, caught somewhere between a sob and a laugh. You reach down, curling your fingers over his where they rest against your stomach, squeezing tight. “Obviously.”

Zayne’s fingers curl slightly beneath yours, his touch warm despite the coolness of his skin. His palm lingers, steady and sure, anchoring you through the swell of your emotions. And just as you start to breathe through the tightness in your throat—

A small but distinct movement presses against his hand.

Zayne stills.

You do, too.

Then it happens again—a firm, unmistakable kick against his palm, strong enough that even in your haze of emotions, you can’t ignore it.

You let out a soft gasp.

Zayne, ever composed, presses his hand more firmly, waiting. A second later, another soft thump answers, almost like a response to his touch.

A quiet chuckle escapes him, low and warm. “I think they agree with me.”

Your throat tightens all over again. “What?”

His fingers trace slow, soothing patterns over your stomach, as if calming both you and the baby at once. Then, softer, more certain—“Looks like I’m not the only one who loves you.”

That does it.

A fresh wave of tears spills over. “Zayne,” you whimper.

He sighs, soft and indulgent, as he presses another kiss to the top of your head. “Yes, darling?”

“That’s not helping.”

Zayne huffs, amused, and you feel the subtle tilt of his head as he buries his nose against your hair. His palm shifts slightly, smoothing over your stomach once more. The baby responds again, another small but insistent nudge against his touch.

His thumb brushes gently over your skin, as if memorizing every movement beneath his hand. Then, with quiet finality—“They’re stubborn. Just like you.”

A watery laugh escapes you. “Then you’re doomed.”

His shoulders shake in silent amusement, his arm tightening around you just a little more.

And as another gentle kick presses into his palm, you feel the warmth of his voice against your hair—“Mm. I think I’ll survive.”

This time, when your eyes flutter shut, you drift off to the steady rhythm of his touch.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes

How did these two request line up, are you guys sure you don't know each other 😂 but hey it's working out for me! (and I'm not talking about the previous req but this one after ahahaha) Thanks again for the cute request 🫶🏻 This is ended up connected ahaha either way, if we're going for chronological order here it is: (this is part 3) more like a snippet (smut) part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 (smut at the end)

[sparkly-sediment]

tf2 merc sick day headcanons?

TF2 mercs vs common cold headcanons

thank you for the ask!! always feel free to send them in 🥰🥰

Scout

Pitiful victorian child withering away, pleading mama to please carry him to the garden to witness one last merciful sunset

Sniffling and shivering. His nose is raw from blowing it and he sounds so congested Medic lowkey thinks he’s playing it up

Coughs with tongue out like a small cat

Scouts spent most of his life trying not to be the little bitch of the family. But he’s the youngest brother, mommy’s favorite, and emotionally sensitive

Predisposed puss boy 😔 acts like he has malaria when really brother is experiencing flu season

He stops getting flu shots when he becomes a mercenary because he Doesn’t trust Medic and notices it helps!

When Miss Pauling visits the base and he’s sick as fuck it’s the most she’s ever been attracted to him

Which is minimal due to her lesbianism

Soldier

He purposely infects the others

Mf is the reason there is a sick day 😭 He’ll cough and hack all over your personal space and get mad about it

Like how dogs get aggressive when they’re injured

Okay look I love Soldier but he is an ASSHOLE when he’s sick

He pushes through any and all physical aliments to keep working (Medic ties him down. He escapes) and drags sick coworkers along with him

Scout looks like he’s about to fucking die and Soldier is trying to yell at him to quit being a pansy but he can’t even yell without hacking up a lung

Literally hacks up a lung at dinner and collapses with blood spilling out of his mouth. Chaos ensues

RUINS pasta night. But it follows his cycle

Become sick, ignore, fight, crash out, sleep for 72 hours, and lock in

Would be an anti masker 😭

Engineer

Fairly reasonable. He feels like shit, gets his job done, and retires to his quarters 🐴 🤠

He has to take the rest of the day in bed after passing out (thick overalls +fever do NOT work)

Weary and acts much older than he is… starts getting progressively sentimental the longer he’s sick and talking about his memories as a boy

Will walk with a hand on his lower back when he has a cold as if his body is shutting down

Curls up into a little ball and only drinks chicken noodle soup which Soldier makes for him

there are piece of metal in it but he spits them out. Iron is good for you anyway

Texans so drinks whisky mixed with his cough syrup

vomits profusely on the side durning matches which leaves both teams concerned+repulsed

Medic

Shockingly, he really doesn’t get sick

Over worked and sleep deprived usually make a ho more susceptible to illness, especially when he’s around bodies that are opened the varying degrees

And you know that mf is not sanitary okay

Medic said fuck PPE we ballin

Eventually Medic falls gravely ill

He’s in bed with an ice pack on his head and mercy thermometer like a cartoon child

Wears a nightcap. I know this for a fact

Since he’s the team’s Medic when he gets sick, everything spirals. It’s like mom left to visit family and dad is not involved in his children’s lives because 😭 the descent is swift

Engineer picks up what paperwork he can but Medic is the team’s daddy and without hum they are lost!! And fighting!! And Scout is getting blood everywhere!!

Medic hibernates in his bedroom hidden behind the medbay. Heavy checks up one him, brings food and water, and will sit and read from his favorite books

Medic doesn’t speak Russian and has a raging headache but he loves it so complies

Definitely some sort of “I’m Doctor now” dialogue and they giggle but when Heavy leaves the birds attack him for food

The birds flock to him and guard his bed. They only let Heavy through. The doves bring Medic small gifts and trinkets, usually tongue depressors and coins. They’ve sworn allegiance long ago

Heavy

He’s a throw up kind of guy. It’s giving emesis red (vomiting blood 😰)

Heavy still lives in the mindset that sickness=death. It’s gotten better over the years but after his time in the Gulag watching disease spread like wildfire and death extinguish it, he absolutely loathes being sick and does all he can to avoid it

Obsessive handwashing, won’t sit directly next to someone while eating if they sniffle

He likely gets sick from taking care of Medic and views it as a betrayal

Should’ve left him to the birds

Heavy is very defensive and avoidant if he’s sick. He does his best to keep it a secret and ups his macho acts for reasons previously mentioned

At first Medic is like “wtf” since he didn’t anticipate his bae being so on edge but when he learns why they hold each other and murmurs sweet things

Heavy recovers very quickly though and bounces WAY back. A day in bed with electrolytes and emotional healing and he is rocking his shit again!

Wakes up one morning with a small silver coin and a single white feather on his nightstand

The council thanks him

Sniper

The common cold ravages this man

Chris Trager from Parks n Rec. One grain of sand comprises his delicate microchip

Sniper is mentally tough but his body is delicate tbh. He’ll feel fine but then he has a fever of 104 and the walls are taking

He disappears into his camper van and after a few days the others start to worry

Scout and Engineer do a wellness check and find Sniper passed out, face down on the camper floor, with jars of radioactive piss on the counter

Sick Jarate ends lives immediately upon contact

Severe dehydration and he probably has wicked diarrhea. Medic has to give him an IV and nurse him back to health like an injured dove

Doves fw Sniper and by their blessing he heals

Sniper gets primal when he’s sick and builds a nest and stops grooming. Sweaty, messy hair, dirty tank top. When Scout sees him the runner nearly combusts

Sniper hocks snot into empty cans

Spy

Very fussy when sick. Refuses to be put down for a nap

Spy’s voice gets super nasally and ragged when sick and occasionally he’ll lose it all together

Nasal drip means this man is hacking and gasping for breath 😍

He carries a handkerchief like an old ass man and keeps it meticulously folded in his suit pocket

Groans a lot when he moves. He’ll still smoke though, just a bit more slowly, and it really genuinely does make things worse

Spy goes to the medbay for cold medicine and Medic is appalled to see him light up a cigarette. Spy gets an ass chewing for that one 😔

Because of being a chronic heavy smoker his lungs are bot doing great. His breathing is ragged, he’s wheezing and constantly out of breath. When he gets into a coughing fit, he struggles to regain himself and it scares him

Probably the one who infects Sniper. Goes to back stab, spit droplets transfer, contamination occurs

Spy retires to his smoking room and passes out on the chair. He wakes up drenched in sweat and disoriented

Stumbles back to his room and drinks a bottle of something brown

Next morning back on the grind (not

He stays sick but pretends he isn’t since it doesn’t feel suave enough for him

Demoman

He doesn’t realize he’s sick!! The pounding headache, tummy ache, exhaustion, and chills pass off as a terrible hangover

When his symptoms aren’t alleviated by drinking, he starts to take note

Medic offers him some strong cold medicine but says Demo can’t drink on it

So obviously a no-go. Tavish is rawdogging the cold and is loudly whining about it

Not whining like Scout, but like an overstimulated neurodivergent child crying as their mother rushes them out of walmart and apologizes profusely for bringing them after school (ifykyk)

Weeps from the weight of it all and it is actually sad 😭 the others unite to take care of him

Accidentally blows open half the base because sickness and explosives don’t go well together

Eventually our sniveling Scotsman caves and takes the medication. Within two hours he downing a bottle of scrumpy and then he is fucking gone

He isn’t on Earth anymore. His body might be, but Demo has ascended

He projectile vomits in a bathroom stall and does not clean it

Crawls outside because he thinks he’s dying and when Sniper makes his morning walk from his van to the base, he finds Demo face down in the dirt

Sniper considers leaving him there but feels too guilty

Second most pitiful of the mercs

Pyro

It’s the only time they’ll willingly enter the medbay

On the outside, Pyro sick isn’t too different from Pyro healthy. It’s hard to tell if someone has a cold when they live in a rubber suit

Cries out in the middle of breakfast and lays their head on the table in defeat. The room clears expect for Engineer, who eventually pries out that Pyro isn’t feeling her best

I feel like Pyro snorts coke to get through the work day and then they collapse in bed

Most pitiful of all the mercs and makes you wanna nurture them back to health like a small animal or perhaps bird

When Pyro gets the chills they have one solution. It is not a good solution.

Find them sitting in the middle of a roaring blaze because she cold

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

BREATHE AGAIN.

PAIRING — lumberjack!bucky barnes x f!reader

CONTENTS — one-shot(?); alternate universe—small town; lumberjack au; angst angst angst; mentions re: death of a loved one; estranged childhood friends; bucky has lots of self-deprecating thoughts, but honestly what’s new?

SUMMARY — Bucky could never bear to look at you for too long because of how brightly you shone. But now, it’s somehow unbearable for the same and entirely different reasons.

WORD COUNT — 3.0k

NOTES — this is my last entry for @avengers-assemble-bingo’s bucky barnes birthday bingo event. i didn’t think i’d make it, but i made it by the skin of my teeth! thank you to everyone who expressed love for the stories i wrote for this, i had a lot of fun writing for my first bingo!

✩ bucky barnes m.list ✩ library blog ✩ bingo event masterlist

Out of breath, I am left hoping someday I’ll breathe again. —SARA BAREILLES, “Breathe Again”

Thin shafts of pale light creep through a gap in the faded curtains, stretching across his face and tugging him from a restless sleep. 

A few seconds later, a calloused hand sneaks out from beneath the threadbare covers and fumbles for the blaring alarm clock on the bedside table, silencing its ear-splitting toll with one firm tap. 

Bucky blinks his clearly eyes a few times, squinting against the intruding brightness, and pushes himself up onto his right elbow. The covers are then thrown off, and he doesn’t even flinch at the bite of chilled air against his bare skin. The springs of the narrow bed creaking under his shifting weight as he swings his legs over the side, bare feet finding the cool floorboards. 

Pushing himself to his feet with a soft grunt, Bucky pads over to the bathroom with his eyes still half-closed. After brushing his teeth and a quick shower, he heads back to his room and dresses quickly, pulling on some clean underwear, a trusty pair of Levi’s, and a form-fitting t-shirt. 

He searches around for his flannel, only to find it hanging off the back of a wooden chair in the kitchen. Bucky grabs it, shaking it once, then twice, before shrugging it on. His fingers move automatically doing up the buttons, but they slow as they reach the left sleeve, hovering for a heartbeat over the pinned-up fabric covering the space where his arm used to be. 

Shit. He should probably wear the arm today. 

He normally goes without, especially on days when he’s got nothing better to do but hole himself up in the squat brick building of Barnes, Torres & Wilson Logging. It’s easier not wearing it, much less hassle—never mind that the damn thing hurts him more often than not. 

Besides, if people were going to whisper and stare anyway, he might as well give them something to talk about. 

But things are different today, he’s got a job to do and people to meet… and the last thing he wants is to see that look of pity on your face when you realize that, in the years since you’d left Cobble Hill, he’s become mangled and broken and incomplete. 

He didn’t want to see it on you, the same look everyone had given him when he woke up in the hospital after his surgery, when he’d sweated through the nights that followed in excruciating pain no matter how many painkillers they’d pumped into him. 

Bucky had made everyone promise, especially Wanda and Natasha, not to call you. He made threats not to forgive them if they did, closing his eyes against the burn of shame and agony, swearing that he’d rather die than let you see just how damaged he’d become.

So Bucky grits his teeth now, grabbing the metal limb propped up in the corner of his bedroom that’s gathering dust—Jesus, he thinks he actually pulls it out of a cobweb—and shrugs out of his shirt again. 

It takes him a moment to remember where he keeps his socks and liners, sighing in mild frustration as he takes the extra time to put them on before attaching the arm and putting his shirt back on. 

He flexes the false fingers a few times, trying to familiarize himself with the prosthesis again after not wearing it for so long. Bucky doesn’t take the time to check his reflection in the spotted mirror propped up against the wall. He already knows what he’ll see—eyes shadowed from too little sleep, his long hair shaggy and unkempt, the lines around his mouth carved a little deeper, harsher. 

Gone is the boy from the dust-covered pictures on his dresser, the ones that captured moments of carefree laughter from years and a lifetime ago—back when he was still whole—and in his place is an angry and resentful man Bucky doesn’t recognize or like. He’d rather not look. 

For good measure, he tucks a pair of work gloves into his toolbox. With those, you’ll be none the wiser, even he does have to spend all morning at your house. Sam had mentioned you needed help clearing those old dead trees in your backyard, so you could finally put the place on the market.Just another reminder that even though you are back, it doesn’t mean you’re staying. 

However, they didn’t have enough hands… Sam and Joaquin would be busy on another job, which just left Bucky. 

“You sure?” Joaquin asked carefully when he ultimately volunteered to go in their place. “I mean, we can—” 

“It’ll be fine, alright?” Bucky barked, rougher than he intended, regretting it instantly. His business partner just patted his shoulder in understanding. 

Bucky grabs his tools and stomps into his heavy work boots, not bothering with the laces. The chill of winter takes its time moving on despite the dawning of spring, but he simply drapes his old Carhartt jacket over his good arm before heading out the door, snagging his keys from a bent nail driven crudely into the frame. 

The pink of sunrise is long gone, replaced with a vast and clear blue sky, golden light from the sun reflecting off windows and pooling on sidewalks. 

The stairs creak underfoot on his way down, his truck’s faded red door groaning in protest as Bucky wrenches it open and hoists himself up into the cab. He twists the key in the ignition and the old Ford grumbles to life, then he guides it out of the driveway and onto the main road. 

It doesn’t even take ten minutes to reach Orchard Street, the road soon giving way to gravel and then dirt. The houses around these parts are older, painted clapboard with wide porches and overgrown yards. He’d been to most of them in his youth, bringing homemade pies to neighbours, visiting friends and classmates, coaxing them out to play until the sky darkened. 

But it’s the old Victorian at the end of the road that’s the most familiar, its blue paint peeling and shutters slightly crooked. Bucky pulls up next to the curb rather than parking in the driveway, as there’s another car already parked there, a shiny black sedan sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the ancient-looking buildings and weed-choked lawns. 

Shutting off the ignition, Bucky jumps out of the truck and grabs his tools from the trunk. There are butterflies gnawing at his stomach as he balances the handle of an axe over his shoulder, the nervous feeling growing sharper and sharper with each step up the driveway. 

The yard is overgrown now, the grass, although still slightly matted from a long winter, is so tall and unruly it almost reaches his knees. Dead weeds crowd the path to the front door, dotting the cracks in the porch. 

It didn’t used to be this way. It used to be tidy and trimmed, with small beds of pink and white impatiens lining the path. Your mother’s garden, besides you, was always her pride and joy. 

An old tire swing sways from the large oak out front, its large sturdy branches still bare as they snake towards the sky, the thick rope hanging from one of them all frayed and worn. 

Memories push against his ribs, of laughter and skinned knees and the buzz of cicadas in the heavy summer air. Your mother, wearing her big sun hat, would be humming to herself while she gardened. Bucky would be lying in the grass next to you watching the clouds roll by, laughing when you grabbed his arm and screamed at a big fat dragonfly buzzing overhead. 

But that was a long time ago now, before everything changed… before it all went wrong. 

Finally reaching the door, Bucky raises his hand to knock and hesitates, his fist hovering an inch from the weathered wood. His jaw tightens, a muscle flickering in his cheek. He curls his fingers, nails biting into his palm, and drops his hand to the side. 

Regardless, the curtain in the front window twitches, a face appearing briefly in the gap. Eyes meet his, widening a fraction before the fabric falls back into place. There’s a beat, then the sound of the lock turning. The door opens, its hinges whining. 

And just like when he was that hopeless teenage boy so long ago, not so secretly in love with his best friend, Bucky almost forgets how to breathe. 

High school feels like a million years ago, but the memories come so easily. All those walks together on your shared lunch periods to the ice cream parlour just a few minutes from school. He’d open the door for you, calling out to the shop owner your usual order—two scoops of strawberry in a waffle cone, maraschino cherry on top. 

The two of you at Joaquin’s baseball games in a show of support, but always ending up in your own little world, sitting side by side on a picnic blanket next to the bleachers, hands so close to touching but never quite. 

And despite your fears of leaving Cobble Hill’s safe and quiet borders, the only ones you’d ever known, he had been the one to tell you to go. Bucky had placed his hands on your shoulders, lowering his head so your eyes were level with his, and insisted that you weren’t allowed to be afraid of success. 

“You’re too good for that, you know?” And even though it felt like his half of the world was ending, you beamed up at him through tears because you knew that he’d never lie to you. 

He decided in that moment he’d be brave for you. Four years will go by so quickly, you’ll see. You could call, and so could he. Maybe you could come home during your breaks, or maybe he could go visit you in New York for a weekend. You could show him all the sights, wouldn’t that be fun?  

And when news came that you would be staying in New York for a little bit longer, Bucky tried not to be discouraged. Then as he, Sam, and Joaquin decided to start their own logging business, and as you painstakingly climbed up the corporate ladder, the calls became less frequent. After your mom got sick, plans to visit one another had to be put on hold—just until she got better. 

Regrettably, she did not. And regrettably, all of it stopped after he lost his arm.

It didn’t matter that he once promised himself he’d wait for you. It didn’t matter that you once had a way of making him feel invincible, regardless of the fact that he knew himself to be anything but. It no longer mattered that you were once able to make him feel like he’d been struck by lightning, with just one look. 

“Bucky,” you breathe, the cadence of your voice so familiar it’s like he’s being transported back in time. He swallows hard, not saying your name back. He doesn’t think he can handle the sound of it out loud, and certainly doesn’t feel like he deserves the taste of it on his own tongue. “It’s really nice to see you.” 

Still a sweetheart, he thinks, even if he doesn’t call you that anymore. Bucky can’t bring himself to look at you. Even now, you still shine so bright. He dips his chin in greeting instead, not meeting your eyes. 

“Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it,” you say when you invite him inside, closing the door once he’s in the foyer. It’s so formal, not at all how like the two of you used to be. 

“Sure,” is all he says, bristling under your stare, the air thick with unspoken words and fractured history. Bucky can feel your eyes scanning him even as he turns away, trying to ignore the fact that he hasn’t been this close to you in so long. He gestures towards the backyard, the reason he’s here—to help you prepare this place for sale, so you can go back to your life in New York. “I should… get to work.” 

“Oh, right,” he tries not to lean into the idea that you sound disappointed, as though you were expecting him to stay and chat. “Yeah. Thanks again.” 

He doesn’t know what to say, so he strides away without another word towards the sliding glass doors. The backyard is just as familiar, though so much smaller than he remembers. There is a haphazard row of half-dead pines standing sentinel along the back fence, their needles carpeting the ground. 

The screen door bangs shut behind him as he steps out into the morning sun. Dew soaks through the toe of his boots as he crosses the yard, gleaming on the overgrown half-dead grass like scattered diamonds.

He keeps his eyes on the trees, not letting them stray to the old shed where you used to hide to scare him when you were kids, not letting the memories crowd in like hungry ghosts. 

He sets down his tools near the deck, rolls his shoulders, and gets to work. The first swing of his axe cuts deep into the trunk of the smallest tree, sending a judder up his arm. He welcomes the sting in his good palm, the stretch of muscles long unused. 

Bucky loses himself in the rhythm of the work, in the strain of his breath and the heat building under his flannel. The air fills with the clean, sharp scent of resin and the drumbeat of the axe finding its mark over and over. Each impact of steel on wood feels like a small, necessary violence—both a penance and a promise. 

To your mother whom he remembers fondly as an affectionate woman with a kind smile she’d passed on to you, and a pair of warm hands in which flowers always seemed to grow. 

He’s sorry that she had to go so soon and so painfully, that he couldn’t be there for you when you needed a friend the most. He promises that you’ll have no reason to feel sad because of him again. 

When the first tree finally falls, he barely notices the burn in his arms, the sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. He moves onto the next tree, and the next, until—at least for these short moments—his world narrows to the bite of the axe and the shivering pines and the distant ache that never quite leaves his chest. 

But as he goes to lift the axe again, pain lances through the ghost of his missing limb, hot shards of agony stabbing into an arm that’s no longer there. 

A gasp rips from his throat, his shoulder spasming. The phantom sensations intensify, invisible muscles clenching, nonexistent tendons straining. Bucky braces himself agains the trunk of a nearby pine with his good hand, knuckles white, as a wave of nausea washes over him. 

He should be used to these by now, but the episodes never seem to get easier no matter how much time has passed. More beads of sweat trickle down the side of his face as he tries to breathe through the pain. Don’t let her see, he tells himself, damn near pleading. 

Bucky’s eyes dart towards the glass doors, his fingers fumbling for the axe again, determined to keep working and to act normal. But his movements are jerky, uncoordinated. His tools clatter to the ground, unnaturally loud in his ears even as it lands on the softening earth. He makes a frustrated noise, halfway between a growl and a whimper. Then he hears the sound of the sliding door open. No. Please, anything but that. 

“Bucky?” Your voice, laced with concern. He looks up to see you hurrying towards him, setting down a glass of water on a nearby stump. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he grits out, but another bolt of pain makes him hunch over involuntarily, jaw clenched. 

“What’s wrong?” You reach his side, your hands fluttering helplessly. You frown at the sight of his distress. “What can I do?” 

“Nothing,” he says a little too harshly, flinching away from you instinctively. “You can’t do anything.” 

This is exactly what he didn’t want, for you to see him like this—weak, diminished. Bucky straightens with effort, trying to shove the pain down to where it can’t reach him. His left shoulder aches, the muscles around his prosthesis socket sore and tight.

“Is it your arm?” You ask carefully, and his eyes snap to yours. 

“What?” 

“Steve told me,” you confess, your hand finding its place on his, a hundred emotions flickering through your eyes—sadness and compassion, two things he does not want right now, and then something a bit fiercer. “Don’t be angry with him. He was afraid this would happen and wanted to warn me.”

 “Of fucking course, the punk could never keep his mouth shut.” 

“In his defence, he only told me two days ago.” 

“Forget it,” Bucky jerks out of your grip, turning away as shame simmers louder in his gut, hot and sour. “Just… I’ll be fine. Go back inside.” 

“I really think you should take a break—”

“I mean it, just go. Please,” he hates the way his voice cracks on the last word, but after a tense beat of silence, the soft scruff of your footsteps cross the yard, fading into the distance. The bang of the door closing behind you has a horrible finality. 

Alone again, Bucky slumps against the tree, all the strength draining out of him, and finally lets the tears come. His nonexistent left arm throbs and tingles, a cruel reminder of everything he’s lost. He wonders if he’ll ever stop feeling like a ghost in his own life, haunted by the past and unable to grasp the future. 

He tries, as he closes his eyes against the pain, to remember what it was like to hold you with two good hands.

Or will he spend the rest of his life reaching for things he can no longer have?

fin…?

AFTERWORD — this may turn into a miniseries eventually… i honestly can’t say either way lmao. not for a while though, so… yeah 😇

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. followers with zero engagement, serial likers, and blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[hwastarxo]

Hongjoong x GN reader

summary : GN reader reaches a low point in their mental health, and starts to take it out on themself and try to find an escape. eventually trying to attempt. Their boyfriend Hongjoong helps them work through things and get the help they need.

word count : 1387

genre : Angst, Comfort and Fluff

warnings : mentions of $H and urges, su1cide attempt and su1cidal thoughts

note : All reblogs/comments/reads/hearts are appreciated and I thank you for any of it ! if you have any feedback or thoughts I would love to hear 💗

this is a rewriting of multiple works of mine that were kinda shit :P and this is based on my own experience i had a couple months ago so i’m glad to finally outlet it and make light of it somehow :3

You tried your hardest to push through it.

The stress of everything in your life went from a small pressure, to a huge hurdle, doing simple things like even showering or brushing your teeth felt like a milestone impossible to reach.

You constantly changed the date, postponing the day you’d finally have the guts to finish it off.

It was nice looking for reasons to keep going, even with as little reasons as there were.

You couldn’t admit the real thing keeping you back was fear.

What if it didn’t work? What if you got hospitalized? Before, you were very afraid of death, even staying up at night trying to stop it from somehow happening randomly, but now?

You just crave it.

You know deep down you don’t really want to die, you just want to live a little less.

If you do this, won’t it make things better?, You thought to yourself.

Your struggle will finally be taken seriously.

The days turned into weeks, you gave up on the plan, just constantly remembering in the back of your head, the tools kept in the drawer, the items you planned to use.

You needed the right time, you didn’t want to make anyone worried.

Shortly but surely, the time had come, it wasn’t as planned as before, it was a spur of the moment thing.

The cuts littering your arm and thighs weren’t enough anymore, you needed something harsher, to get rid of the pain.

After you scrimmaged through the drawer in the corner of your room.

You finally grab the small bag of pills you stole, you were worried they wouldn’t be enough to do the job, but also fed up and just wanted to get it over with.

You sat on the bed, with the bag sitting right next to you and a bottle of water. “So this is it”, You thought to yourself, taking the pills one by one, throat feeling iffy after so many pills back to back, you wanted this yet felt so anxious right after.

Brain filled with regret, worry, panicked all of a sudden.

You wanted to die, but how can you be so afraid of death when it meets you?

You stayed awake for hours worrying, until you finally got the courage to go to sleep.

Waking up, it wasn’t enough pills, “how stupid”, You thought to yourself.

You worried so much just for nothing to work, You went on with your day in a bittersweet manner, maybe the pills needed more time to kick in?

Then as the day passed, you noticed the pills starting to take effect.

You couldn’t eat, you felt like throwing up.

“Am I okay?”

Your worry kicked in again.

You wanted this to be painless, so why is it hurting so much in every way?

You wish you listened to the warnings you got when doing your research.

Awake at 3:00 AM, looking up “Painless ways to die”, shortly to find out there’s little to no options.

Desperate is what describes you.

You were desperate to finally escape, you didn’t think of the little details enough, you didn’t think much at all.

Your stomach was in large amounts of pain, laid in bed wondering when it would stop, until you finally started to gag, and gag.

Your body finally threw up, sadly getting all over the sheets and covers, “Fuck, i’ll have to wash them”, You thought to yourself, the vomit up poured out of you, the remainders of the pills leaving your sickly body.

The dirty sheets staring at you was a dark reminder of what was done.

The worst part is you didn’t get what you wanted at all, none of it went your way as always.

No one cared, no one even noticed, you didn’t die, you didn’t get hospitalized, you didn’t even get one of those get well soon cards.

You simply don't mean enough to anyone to get things like that, You remind yourself of that all the time.

It somehow still hurts when that dark reminder comes back to you every time again.

You vowed to yourself from then to either get better completely.

Or to let yourself get completely worse.

You tiredly try to pull yourself up to somewhat function, it’s hardly working.

You should be happy, you're clean from self harm for over a month now, but why are those thoughts coming back?

You lack a reason to really start again, you grimace every time you see the white lines on your thighs, so why does it feel like the razor is calling your name?

You think about how it made you feel then, a little bit less alone, how relieving to have something to take your pain out on, you missed that.

Looking at the I Am Sober app on your phone, the “Congrats on staying clean!” message pops up and feels like a slap in the face.

Eyeing the razor sitting near the bathtub and then holding it in your hand.

“Have all these months been worth it? Am I worth it? What's wrong with me?”

The thoughts pour out as you quickly make the irrational decision that started it all.

“No, no, no, no!, what did I do?”

panicking as the cut was deeper than intended, not sure what to do, You pulled your pants up and quickly ran out the bathroom.

As you walked out, your boyfriend Hongjoong eyed you and quickly noticed the blood seeping through your sweatpants.

Hongjoong: Baby! What happened to you?

He quickly rushes to help, thinking it’s a small injury.

“I’m sorry, i messed up joongie”, You cried.

Hongjoong sits you down and grabs a first aid kit, as he rolls up your sweatpants leg, he realizes what happened, the other scars littered across your leg shining boldly, and dried blood from the recent cut.

Hongjoong doesn’t know how to react, so he focuses on cleaning it up and putting a bandaid on, after he finishes he pulls you into a deep hug.

“I didn’t mean to go that deep” You plead

Hongjoong: It’s okay, I'm here, gonna get you the help you need.

”But- Joongie, I don't feel like I deserve help, I did this to myself”

I'm worthless.”

Your deepest insecurities are finally on full display to him.

Hongjoong: It’s not your fault baby, you’re so much more loved than you realize, it’s gonna get better, I’ll be right here to help you through it.

I-I'm not here to judge you, I don’t fully understand it myself but, i wanna see you happy. I wanna see you get better and I'll do what I can to get you there.

Hongjoong’s voice breaks up as he tries not to cry while speaking.

“I’ll go clean up and get the razors thrown away, just get some rest for now, we can talk more about getting you in therapy in a minute. And I love you, okay?”

“Don’t forget that, don’t let the stupid voices in your head even try to convince you otherwise, I love you so much and I always will.”

“This doesn’t make me see you any different at all, the scars are just part of your story, a small chapter in the book.”

“It’s gonna get better, I promise you.”

Hongjoong mutters, his lips quiver as he holds the tears back.

He rubs your back while hugging you the whole time as he speaks, offering you the comfort you deeply craved.

You silently nod and accept this new step in your recovery journey.

[delulu4anime]

Maniac

Ch 15 ➧Please

Parings ➧ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ!ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴄʜᴜʙʙʏ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary ➧ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ɪᴛ ᴜɴᴀᴠᴏɪᴅᴀʙʟᴇ. ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴀʟʟ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

Trigger Warnings ➧ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ.

Word Count ➧2ᴋ+

Taglist ➧@lady-of-blossoms @dekusdante @fortunatelyfurrygiver @birbwithhat @whippedbyikemen @sleepykittyenergy @i-love-ateez @choppersworlds-blog @emochosoluvr @linaaeatsfamilies @sexys-archives @stxrlingpearl @swoozleee @lanii-i (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟᴍᴋ❣︎)

Your phone rang out in your room and you stirred awake; you could've sworn that you had turned off all your alarms the night before. With puffy eyes from lack of sleep and crying most of the night you picked up your phone and realized it was a phone call. Before you could see who was calling the phone call went to voicemail and that's when you noticed all the notifications that had come through after you had passed out from exhaustion. You texted Emi last night apologizing for not being able to return to the reception because your so called friend ended up having more trouble than you originally thought so they ended up spending the night. You knew Emi had a few drinks in her system when you told her about the mini emergency so she didn't pay much attention but you didn't miss the way Kento's eyes narrowed at you when you mentioned this friend in need.

To his knowledge you had a very small circle of friends and he knew every single one of them. On top of that the only people he knew you would ever drop everything for to help were standing right in front of you. You mentally thanked him for not questioning you about it and letting you just go. You also recall sending a brief text to Satoru telling him his presence wasn't needed at the cafe for the weekend even though you hoped he'd read between the lines and realize you meant in general as well. You noticed a few drunken text messages from Emi telling you she loved you and you were her best friend.

You had a few text including a video showing Kento beating a very intoxicated Emi at another dance battle. You chuckled to yourself knowing you could tease him about not winning fairly that round. Your smile faded with the amount of calls and texts from Satoru showed up. You realized he had just called you and against your better judgement you unlocked your phone as scrolled through the twenty or so text messages he had sent. Most the the texts begging for you to hear him out.

You went to your call log and noticed he had called you a handful of times including the one you had just missed. He left a voicemail this time and you hesitated but then brought the phone up to your ear to hear what he said,

"Baby please I've been trying to reach you all night. I don't know what else to do so I'm on the way over because I need to see you. I need to talk to you. Please don't shut me out." He softly said and you didn't miss the sniffles he tried to hide by moving the phone away from him. "I'll see you soon." And then the voicemail ended.

You locked your phone and rubbed your palms against your eyes. It would take him about fifteen minutes to get to your house and it took you almost that long to decide you weren't ready to see him. Soon you heard the doorbell ring out through your apartment along with a few loud knocks against your front door. You laid back down against your sheets and curled up into a ball as you phone lit up with Satoru's contact picture flashing on the screen. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to stop yourself from crying at the picture he took of you both.

You remember him stretching his long arm out to take a picture of you two on one of the picnics he had planned. You leaned against him and smiled and right before he took the picture he leaned down and nuzzled himself against your neck. His eyes were closed as he kissed your neck softly and smiled against your skin. After he took the picture he insisted that it would be his contact picture. You even caught a glimpse of his home screen noticing he had set the same picture as his background for everyone to see.

So everyone can see or does he flip his phone over when he's around anyone that might question why he's in a relationship with you. He's always so good at playing pretend. The voice nagged and you sobbed softly as you turned your phone over. The door bell ringing out through your apartment again and again. You weren't going to allow him to see you in this state; not ever again.

Suddenly the phone calls stopped as did the door bell ringing and before the calls or text could come through you turned your phone completely off. All you can remember before drifting back off to sleep was the way your breathing slowly steadied as the tears dried against your cheeks.

Your days off could be summed up like this:

Monday: Your phone stayed off the entire day as you cried and screamed into your pillow. You hardly left your bed that day.

Tuesday: Your phone stayed off the entire day as you stared at the wall trying to remember what you felt like before Satoru touched your skin. You got up a few times and spent an hour or two in the living room only to hide away once you saw something that reminded you of him.

Wednesday: You finally got out of bed only to cringe at your appearance. You tried playing your favorite playlist to help you relax only to sob in the shower at all the songs you remembered you both danced to. All the songs he caressed the parts of yourself you hated with a gentleness you'd never felt before. All the songs he made you fall in love with all over again. You turned your phone off again after that.

When Thursday rolled around you found the strength to get out of bed. You stared at your reflection in the mirror beside your closet and frowned at the fact you were letting him effect you the same way he had ten years before. The rage inside you coursing through your body knowing you can't blame anyone else but yourself in this situation. Your conscious begged and pleaded to fall back into his grasp only to be manipulated into seeing him as anything other than who he was in high school. Hina never changed so what made you think Satoru would?

They were made for one another. You got out of bed and walked into the living room as your eyes roamed your apartment that had turned into a depressive space. A wine bottle or two on your coffee table in the living room along with a wine glass you swore would be used but after pour had been abandoned. A pizza box on the counter that you had forgotten to put the left overs up in the fridge. Take out from various spots in town because you couldn't bring yourself to go to your favorite place after the amount of late nights you spent with Satoru eating there.

That was just the living room, you didn't even want to start on the way your bedroom looked like you let an animal move in. After hours of cleaning and getting your space back to feeling like home you lit a candle and stepped back to admire your work. You felt the pride well inside at being able to clean which had you in a better mood. You decided to go out and grab food from your favorite spot to show yourself that you were going to get through this. You grabbed your keys on the way out and took the flight of stairs down to where you car was parked a few spots away.

You welcomed the chilly air causing goosebumps to rise on your skin but knew sooner than later you'd be shivering if you didn't get in your car and turn the heat on full blast. Once you grabbed your food you decided to sit by the water like you did before you met Satoru as you tried to regain that memory instead of all the ones you made with him here. You had turned your phone back on and changed your screen saver to an affirmation about self love. You hummed along to a song from a new playlist you put together; you felt yourself finally feeling at peace as you watched the way the waves crashed against the shore. That peace was short lived when a phone call interrupted the song you had been listening to with the one person you didn't want to talk to.

You ripped the aux cord out of your phone and answered the call while you turned down the music to the radio.

"What?" You snapped as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You reached up and set your container on the dashboard of your car.

"Peach." Satoru softly said and you could hear the relief in his voice. "I've been trying to get ahold of you."

"I know you have you think you would've gotten the hint by now to leave me alone. Also what did I tell you about that stupid nickname." You said as you looked down at your nails trying to keep your voice leveled.

"I know you don't want to talk to me but please let me explain." He pleaded and you looked out at the water that looked calm as the tide came in around this time.

The silence that fell between you two was deafening and you hated it. You bite your bottom lip as you heard his labored breathing hinting he was trying to keep himself from crying. You could feel the tears threaten to spill over you water line as you uttered one word.

"No." You softly spoke and then hung the phone up. You blocked his number so he couldn't call back.

You could feel the tears run down your cheeks as you continued to look out to the sea in front of you as the warm air blasted against your skin. You grabbed your food, losing your appetite, and placing it in your passenger seat. You buckled your seat belt and headed towards your apartment because you could spend all night sitting here watching the waves hit the shore over and over again. You wiped the few tears that spilled over as you gripped onto the steering wheel tightly trying to focus on anything other than how broken he sounded. You wanted him to explain himself and you wanted him to beg forgiveness but you knew if you allowed that there was possibility that you'd take him back.

You frowned at the possibility that he doesn't want you back at all and the only reason that he is even upset is because he got caught. Once you got back to your apartment and inside you placed your left overs in the fridge. You looked at your phone and decided it was time to delete every single trace of him from your life. All the text messages, all the phone, and all the voicemails he had left you. Tomorrow was a new day and you were happy to get back to work so you could focus on anything but him.

There was a long to-do-list you and Emi put together that kept getting put off because you both were either too lazy or too busy to complete. You decided to complete as much as you could while Emi was away; the busier you were the faster the day would go by until you could reunite with Emi and Kento. You just had to get through three more days and you'd be able to reunite with your best friends. You set an alarm and laid your head against your cool pillow and sighed in content. You were proud of yourself, despite the ache in your heart, for blocking his number along with the memories of him.

Starting tomorrow you were going to get on with your life as if Satoru Gojo had never existed.

©ᴅᴇʟᴜʟᴜ4ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2025 ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜꜱʜʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴊᴇʟʟʏꜰɪꜱʜ ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ

[faghubby]

Wife's bitch

"OH sweety I know what you need" Tammy told me as she pushed me over the counter as soon as I walked in. My basketball shorts where around my ankles as her hands rubbed my satin pantied ass.

"I am so hard for you" she told me. She pulled my panties down only far enough to expose my ass. I felt her spurt lube into my ass. She wasted no time rubbing her fake cock against my hole. She worked it in. I had become accustomed to her "cock" so it slid in without much resistance.

"Yeah, I love your ass sweety" she told me as she worked her cock in deep stokes.

"Did Greg tell you I am meeting I'm later tonight" Tammy asked

"No" I wimpered. Greg was my supervisor. I didn't know about him and Tammy. Tammy had several lovers, she didn't hide that.

"Well you should thank him for taking me out tonight, at work

tomorrow" Tammy told me. Tammy reached around and stroked my dick thru my panties. "You are so hard sweety, is it from my cock or knowing Greg will be getting to fuck me? When was the last time you got to be inside me?" Tammy teased I wanted to cum but she stopped touching my dick. She pulled her cock out of my ass. She fixed my panties then smacked my ass playfully.

"I don't want you touching yourself tonight either" Tammy left me standing there as she went to get ready for her Date. I pulled up my shirts and followed her.

"What is it sweety?" Tammy asked. As she stripped to shower. She looked at me. As she stood there in her bra and panties. "Not this again, is it?" Tammy made a playful frown. She must of seen the desperation on my face.

"We talked about this, you wanted me to sleep with other men" She reminded me. I had. What I hadn't thought of was cutting me off completely. The first time she had me wear panties was the first night she cuckolded me. The pegging came later, when I begged her for sex after months. Now she had me wear panties 24/7, and fucked me whenever she wished.

"I guess I could let you try" Tammy smiled. I was instantly hard and yanked off my shorts.

"Tonight when I get home silly. Now scoot I have to get ready" I practically jumped I was so excited rushing out of the room it had been 15 weeks since we had slept together. I was still only wearing my panties when Tammy emerged from the bedroom dressed for her date.

"Remember you better not touch it, or it will be a very long time before I let you inside me" she kissed me on the cheek and left. I tried to think of everything, I changed the sheets, lit candles, sprayed some perfume on the pillows, I also took a shower and shaved. I wanted everything perfect. I found myself trimming all my body hair. I clipped my nails. I waited and waited it got late and I slipped into bed. Wearing just a pair of panties she had bought me she thought I looked cute in. I must of fallen asleep.

"Wake up sweety" Tammy said rubbing me thru mypanties. "This is all very romantic" Tammy smiled. As the soft music still played.

"Unfortunately Greg fucked me so hard I am a bit sore, he is really big" she smirked. "I know it's not necessarly romantic but why don't you put in the back door" she told me as i watched her remove her panties. They where obviously filled with his cum. Tammy got on all fours in the center of the bed but dropped her head and stuck her ass high. I quickly grabbed the lube and she moaned as my fingers pushed inside her. I couldn't wait and got behind her as I tried to push my dick inside it slipped twice. And just as I got it lined up perfect I came all over her ass.

"OH my, use your fingers make me cum" Tammy told me. First I just fingered her ass, but she rolled over and spread her legs, I stared at her swollen used pussy, we laid next to each other as I pushed my fingers into her pussy. Greg's cum soon covered my hand. I was hard again and Tammy started to give me a hand job.

"Please let me inside you" I pleaded,

"You sure, he came so much. And you couldn't even get inside me" she teased as I came in her hand.

"Done again, finish me off, you know how" Tammy said pushing my head between her legs. I hesitated and just stared at her pussy my fingers still inside her.

"Do it now" Tammy grunted. I caved and buried my face between her thighs, I tasted Greg's cum as it now flowed out of her. Tammy came hard only a moment later. She held my head with her legs as she did.

When she released me I jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I jumped in the shower and was brushing my teeth when Tammy joined me. She didn't say a word we just got cleaned up and went to bed.

When I woke up Tammy was already gone. I got up and went to get dressed. I found Tammy had pulled out a pair of frilly pink panties for me to wear. I slid them on. I had become accustomed to wearing panties. I secretly loved the soft sexy feeling.

Around 10am I got a message.

WATCH THIS NOW SWEETY it read I opened it to see Tammy riding Greg's cock as he sat in a chair. I quickly turned it off and went to the bathroom to finish watching.

ARE YOU JERKING OFF? Tammy messaged.

I stopped and messaged back. That I was.

ARE YOU GOING TO EAT YOUR CUM? IF YOU CUM YOU BETTER EAT YOUR CUM. I was a bit shocked by this but stopped jerking off and went back to my desk.

I AM GOING TO FUCK THAT SWEET ASS SO HARD WHEN I GET HOME. GO TELL GREG HOW YOU TRIED TO FUCK MY ASS LAST NIGHT AND ATE HIS CUM INSTEAD.

I couldn't tell him that. I thought but the idea of telling him excited me.

I got home and Tammy wasn't home yet. I wanted to play with myself but I just turned on Tammy's laptop instead. It was flooded with images of woman dominating men. What had Tammy been researching. This was far beyond anything we had discussed. Suddenly the door opened and Tammy called out.

"BITCH, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE" I jumped and scrambled to meet her. She wss already tightening the straps on the harness. I looked down "her cock" was bigger. Much bigger then the one we normally used.

"PANTS OFF" She was mad. As I dropped my pants. "I told you to talk to Greg didn't i?" She told me as she lubed my ass and wasted no time pushing her cock into my ass.

"Greg bought this for you, I know you will love it" she told me as she managed to sink all 10 inches into my ass. "Next time I tell you to do something you will do it without hesitation" Tammy told me as she drove the toy in and out of me with long hard strokes.

"Please ohhhh god" I moaned.

"Yes you are just a gay slut" Tammy told me. She touched my cock and I came. She had only had to touch it. She immediately shoved her cum covered fingers in my mouth. She didn't stop kept pounding away on my ass. When she got tired she laid on her back and had me ride her. I came a second time and once again she fed me it all. With her cock still buried in my ass. She produced a chastity cage and had me put it on. We had never discussed chastity. And ye t I locked it on without hesitation.

"It's going to be a long time before I ever let you out again" Tammy told me. "You are my bitch and from now on you will do as you're told"

I nodded. And collapsed as she finally pulled her toy out. She unstrapped her cock and pulled her leggings off. She pushed me down and squatted over my face cum dripped on my face before my tounge even touched her. I licked and sucked her clean.

"Greg says he will fuck my ass tomorrow, so you can suck his cum out of my ass as well" Tammy told me. She walked around naked showing me all the other new toys Greg had bought for me.

There where restraints, paddles, plugs, nipple clamps, and a ton of new lingerie. Taking it much further then just panties. I knew she was right I was her bitch.

[therhythmofeternity]

Grey

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader Late night smoking

WORDCOUNT: 697

WARNINGS: smoking

A/N: a short very unpolished piece because i can't sleep and the sun is up. Also smoking is bad for you, don't do it! Not a lot happening in this fic just slightly intimate vibes

It was late, one of those nights where you tossed and turned in bed with no luck of sleep gracing you with it's dreamless black. At some point you decided to crane your neck to look at your bedside table, the digital clock on it reading 02:37.

You were done upon seeing the time, deciding you had better things to do than waste away on your bed all night. So that's how you found yourself in the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water—eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

You stood there for a moment, having placed the glass on the counter, before your rumination was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Can't sleep?"

You turn towards the sound, "Simon."

He was leaning on the doorway, clad in a hoodie and some sweatpants; his signature balaclava on.

"Looking like shit, love" he chuckles, or at least that's what it sounds like to you.

"Thank you, just what I wanted to hear" you deadpan,

He says nothing in response, only walking up to you and leaning down examining your face,

Tall bastard this man is, an absolute giant compared to anything around him.

You only stare back much too tired to really do anything, he eventually leans back pulling something out of his pocket waving it lazily—your eyes trail towards it, a pack of smokes.

A wordless invitation, one you had gotten used to as routine.

Managing to always find each other under the black of night, engaging in a routine that had formed under some strange tired circumstances. A pack, a knowing gaze, a huff, and a walk to the rooftop.

The warmth radiating from him was always welcoming, contrasting the cool breeze that would bite right through your skin.

It would always start out quiet, but eventually after a few puffs the conversations would start. The first few times there'd be little to no words spoken, and then casual conversation entered the scene, usually about mundane things.

And then at some point, after a good while of the routine it'd lead to more vulnerable conversations; maybe it was the time of night, or the shared sleeplessness but it led you both to open up little by little.

Sometimes neither of you had to even talk, just the company was enough to soothe both your souls.

Walls crumbled and eroded by whatever divine hand willed it to fall.

And Simon didn't speak much, at least when he didn't need to—specially not when he knew that you understood him perfectly fine, no words needed.

And so you stand comfortably beside each other, leaning on the railings and staring into the distant city skyline, no other sound but leaves rustling in the wind and soft breaths.

"Y'shouldn't be smoking" he says, giving you a sidelong glance as you breathe the grey wisps out into the air.

"Could say the same for you" you tilt your head to him, cradling your face in your hand, the other offering the cigarette back to him

He simply scoffs, plucking it from your fingers and bringing it to his lips in one smooth motion, balaclava scrunched up to his nose

"I'm talkin' about you" he huffs, voice a low rough sound—smoke blowing through his lips as he spoke. The scent hit your nose–familiar and unpleasant, you thought.

You watch his lips wordlessly before looking away and taking the cigarette back, taking a drag. It burns the back of your throat and makes the alveoli in your lungs screech, but it always gave your mind some form of quiet.

You can’t say you liked smoking or really anything about it, it was more just a portal to the companionship of the man beside you.

"Only smoke when you do" you admit casually, voice soft and carried by the breeze

He takes a glance at you, his eyes unreadable in the low light

"And if I quit?"

"Then I'll do the same" you shrug, slotting the stick back into his fingers

"You're ridiculous" he scoffs, dropping the cigarette and crushing it with his boot.

You watch silently, a small curl to your lips

"Yeah?"

He leans forward ever so slightly.

"Yeah."

[caughtnyact]

hello, welcome to thedasweekend :D i'd love to see bellara/davrin with "noctivagant - going about in the night; night-wandering" from the unusual or rare words prompt list!

Hello!! Thank you for sending me this prompt, what a fun thing to do for my first @thedasweekend fill :') this one got away from me and ended up being longer than anticipated because I just love Davrin/Bellara so much lmao

Bellara had no idea where she was headed, but that did not matter to her. She needed air; she needed motion. She needed to watch where she was going.

No warnings - 1,237 words

Bellara couldn’t sleep. This was nothing new for her, but tonight brought a different kind of insomnia: a chest-tightening, pulse-racing, dread-inducing insomnia that froze her solid in her bedroll. Her usually poor sleeping habits were born of restlessness, a potential energy compelling her to move. Some of her best feats of genius came from these sleepless nights. Tonight, however, she felt like the uncharacteristically starless sky above their camp in Arlathan Forest.

Yesterday was an extremely trying day for the entire team. Her focus was singular for the first time since Cyrian came back from the dead; the kidnapped Dalish could not become another casualty in this war against the gods. Her gods. It was the only thought keeping her legs pumping as they raced against the clock to rescue them from the Venatori’s grasp.

She had hoped that feeling of dread would dissipate upon finding them safe. However, she could feel every pair of eyes on her as she moved about camp helping Strife and Irelin tend to the injured. Neve had told her that they were just on-edge with tomorrow’s confrontation with the gods looming over them, but Bellara knew better. Why does everyone feel the need to coddle her? She handled her grief over Cyrian in her own way; it wasn’t the best way, but it was hers.

Bellara’s fists tightened around her bedroll as she worked up the mental momentum to rise. She grabbed her blue scarf and threw it around herself, intent on forcing another moment of ingenuity. Surely she could come up with something that would be helpful in their fight tomorrow, something to prove that she is doing her part to fight the good fight against Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain.

Bellara had no idea where she was headed, but that did not matter to her. She needed air; she needed motion. She needed to watch where she was going.

“Mhf— Bellara?!”

“Ow! My head…” Bellara nearly saw stars as she collided with the wall that was Davrin. “Oh, shit! Davrin, I am SO sorry!” She steadied herself on his shoulder before her vision stabilized.

“It’s rare that someone gets the drop on me,” Davrin smirked. He has a laugh that resonates through your chest and warms your soul like cinnamon whiskey. Her face burned hot as she reeled her wandering thoughts back in.

“I didn’t mean to— dammit,” Bellara stammered as she finally released her grip on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she tried again.

“No harm done, Bellara. Really— I was just getting back from a walk,” he nodded in the direction he came from, “ I needed to clear my head after this afternoon.” Bellara readjusted her scarf and prepared to run as fast as possible away from the embarrassment. Davrin raised a hand to stop her.

“Though I could use another lap before I turn in for the night,” he said. Bellara swallowed thickly.

“Aren’t you worried they’ll send a search party for you?” She summoned the courage to joke.

“Nah,” Davrin shrugged, “though I’m sure Assan will if we don’t get to walking.” He turned on his heels once he saw she would follow and began down the path.

“Right.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the relative stillness of Arlathan at rest. The cool night air helped to soothe Bellara’s still-rosy cheeks. The trail wound around the camp and down a gentle slope to the water’s edge. She remembered a night like this, wandering around with Cyrian as he tried to gather fireflies in jars. Really, he just needed me to carry all of the jars, Bellara laughed to herself. Davrin looked over to her, eyes returning ahead when he realized she hadn’t wanted to share whatever it was she was laughing at. The memory hung too heavy in her heart now.

She had set out to prove that she could do things without someone’s help, but here she is needing another escort. If I’m going to waste his time, she thought, I might as well make it worthwhile.

“Hey, Davrin,” Bellara asked suddenly, “Did you ever, you know… believe? In our gods, I mean.” His pace slowed down a touch and for a split second she worried that she had said something wrong.

“In our gods, huh?” Davrin folded his arms behind his head. “I never saw a point in believing in something I can’t see for myself— can’t touch with my own hands or stab with my sword.” The gears in Bellara’s head began to turn at his response.

“But, that doesn’t make sense,” she said, catching Davrin by surprise once more. Dammit, I did it again. Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut? She stared intently at his face for any sign of discomfort before she dug her grave even deeper.

“I just mean that— well, you named Assan ‘arrow’, like in the Vir Tanadhal.” The look on Davrin’s face was unreadable; Bellara felt the blush creep up her face again and shook her head. “Nevermind, it was a stupid question—”

“Bellara, slow down,” Davrin grabbed her shoulder before she could run ahead of him. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” he admitted, “But I’d like hear your thoughts, if it’s all the same to you.” Bellara’s pulse screamed in her head and her heart threatened to explode in her chest. It isn’t often that someone wants to hear her ramble like this.

“I’ll try,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I just meant that, everything about you screams Andruil— what we were taught about her as kids, anyway.”

She pondered what god Davrin’s vallaslin represented since the day she met him. She knew that his Uncle Eldrin clearly had the markings of Ghilan’nain’, which made sense as a halla-tender. Davrin’s, on the other hand, was inscrutible. The sharp lines were too straight to be the serpentine loops of Ghilan’nain. Yet, they were halla-like all the same; not an arrow pointing to the sky like Strife’s.

“Vir Assan… be swift and silent, strike true, and do not waver. That’s you, Davrin.” Bellara was feeling the word vomit rising in her throat again, threatening to reveal more of herself than she felt was acceptable. She kept going anyway. “That can’t just be a coincidence, right? That means something,” she whispered low enough that Davrin wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly.

“Bellara…” Davrin closed the distance between them, just like the knights in shining armor in her serials. He opened his mouth to say something, but the flapping of Assan’s wings cut him short. He flew like an arrow straight over their heads and landed a few feet down the trail.

“Scree!”

“Sorry, boy,” Davrin laughed. “I didn’t realize it was past my curfew.” He bent down to razz Assan’s floppy ears. Bellara exhaled the breath she had been holding way too long.

“I guess we should head back,” she sighed. Assan turned his attention to Bellara, bounding over to see if she had any of those delicious gingerwort treats she sneaks him so frequently. He bunted his beak against her leg. “Sorry, Assan, I’m fresh out of treats tonight.”

Davrin nodded his head in he direction of camp, instructing Assan to head back with them. “I’d like to continue this conversation another time, if you’re amenable,” he said. The two elves set down the path back to camp, Assan’s paws crunching branches the only remaining sounds made in the night.

[pinkcreamypeach]

Human by Day, Koopa by Night

A huge thank you to my friend @keylovesstuff for helping me bring this idea to life! I’m so grateful for her input, which really pushed me to start writing this AU. I had the concept of Mario as a Koopa in my head but had no idea how to begin talking it through with her and helped me shape it into something I’m excited about! Think of Mario’s situation like Fiona from Shrek, with the whole transformation twist. I really hope you all enjoy it! This is definitely the longest piece I’ve ever written, and I’m so proud of how it’s turning out. :)

Those who were curious about this idea here! @eleventhhourfactor @peaches2217 @emeraldsk @mikibaby94 Hope you like!🥲

[1/?]

“Oh dear…” Toadsworth sighed, adjusting his golden-rimmed spectacles with a hint of concern. The morning sun had yet to rise, and here he was in his study, surrounded by stacks of papers and endless scrolls. Two anxious Toads had arrived at the palace, seeking Princess Peach, but since she was still fast asleep, Toadsworth had taken it upon himself to investigate the matter.

It turned out they had spotted a massive figure near the river breathing fire. In a panic, they had snapped a photograph, though it was difficult to make out any details.Toadsworth leaned closer, adjusting his glasses and squinting at the blurry image. Using his finger, he carefully traced the outline, deep in thought.

“…A Koopa?” He murmured, eyebrows knitting together. The sight of the reptilian figure was unmistakable. Had they been in the Pharaoh Daisy Kingdom, he would have suspected another creature altogether, perhaps one better suited to the arid desert heat. But here, in the Mushroom Kingdom, it made sense it could only be a Koopa. But what was it doing here? Spying? Signaling to its comrades?.

“Grandpa..?” A soft, drowsy voice interrupted his musings. Toadsworth quickly hid the photograph in a drawer, forcing a warm smile as he turned toward the princess.

“Ah, Peach, my dear, what are you doing up at this hour?” Toadsworth asked, his voice laced with gentle concern. 

The princess, with her cornflower-blue eyes still heavy with sleep, stood in the doorway, her soft pink nightgown dragging slightly on the floor. The gown, with its puffed sleeves, made her appear even more delicate, almost like a vision of ethereal grace as she yawned, her strawberry blonde curled locks tumbling loosely around her shoulders.

“I thought I heard something…” Peach murmured, her voice still soft with sleep. She wandered over to the nearby couch, settling into its cushions, her head resting gently against the armrest.

“Why are you up, Grandpa?” She asked, her eyes flicking toward him as she began to wake further, her curiosity piqued.

Toadsworth froze for a moment, scrambling for an explanation. “Ah, well… I was just planning for the spring festival, of course! I know how much you adore it, especially this time of year. It's your favorite season, after all!” He moved to her side, taking her hand gently in his, rubbing her knuckles slowly with an affectionate smile. His small hands, though aged, were warm and comforting against her softer skin.

Peach smiled wearily down at him, too tired to press further. “That’s so sweet of you to think of, Grandpa…” Her words trailed off as she stifled another yawn. “I’m so hap..” With that, she curled up a bit more on the couch, closing her eyes once more.

Toadsworth breathed a sigh of relief, brushing his silver-white mustache thoughtfully. He rose, carefully draping a soft blanket over the sleeping princess. His heart swelled with affection as he looked down at her, but soon, his gaze drifted back to the desk, where the troubling photograph remained hidden from her view.

He knew he should tell her the truth about the Koopa, about the mystery but knowing her history with Koopas, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her peace just yet. The last thing he wanted was to worry her, especially when she needed rest the most. No… for now, he would keep this secret to himself. It would be better that way. At least until he could find out more.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he turned back to his desk, turning off the light.

            ____________________________________

Fire! Fire!?!? MAMMA MIA, NOOOOOOO!! This is NOT good, this is BAD, VERY BAD!

He’s panting like a dog in a sauna, smoke puffing out of his nose like a dragon with a bad cold. His mouth’s doing the same thing; it's like he's a walking barbecue grill. His claws shoot out like knives, and he starts wildly waving at the trees to make them go away. But instead of calming things down, he accidentally slashes the trees to bits SNAP, CRACKLE, POP! like they’re made of wet paper.

“MERDA MERDA!” He shrieks in panic, his voice a mix of terror and rage.

His eyes dart around like he's in a sneaky ninja movie, hoping, praying, begging to the stars that nobody saw this fiery catastrophe. If this gets out to the kingdom, it’s game over for him! Princess Peach will..NO! NO! I can't deal with her! I just need to fix this!

In a frantic frenzy, he grabs not one, but FIVE trees, hoisting them over his head like they’re toothpicks, and hurls them as far away as he can BOOM! toward the opposite direction of the Mushroom Kingdom and Toad Town. Trees go flying like they're in a Mario Kart race. 

“Amsorrytothosewhogothit!!” He mutters, practically whispering to the non-existent town. 

With one last glance around, he bolts, legs moving like he's being chased by a fire-breathing Goomba. Every step is a disaster, trying to avoid leaving scorch marks on the earth. He’s a Koopa! A big, scaly, clawed disaster waiting to happen. Not to mention a terrifying reptile with glittery scales who, by the way, is part of the enemy race! 

OH, THIS IS NOT GOOD.

He sprints back to his and Luigi’s house, slipping into the backyard like he’s a giant, awkward lizard trying to hide from the world. Phew, good thing he's not 5'0" or 5'2" on a good day... He doesn’t even how tall he is now! He’s too busy being a fire-breathing turtle in a world that’s just not ready for him!

He curls up into a ball in the corner of the yard, his tail wrapping around him like a big, scaly security blanket. He mumbles to himself, cursing his very existence. 

Hours passed until a sudden shaking stirred Mario from his sleep.

“MARIO! MAAARIIIIIO!”

That definitely did the trick. Mario snapped awake to see Luigi hovering above him, looking down with a mix of concern and a hint of judgment. When Mario finally glanced down at himself, he realized he was back to his usual human form wearing his pajamas and barefoot. As usual, a few battle scars dotted his body, from burns to claw marks just another day in the life of a Mario brother.

“You seriously need to find a new spot to sleep, man. You’re gonna start turning into a furry again like back in middle school, huh?” Luigi said, his voice laced with worry. Mario cringed hard at the memory.

“Luigi, I wasn’t—" Mario began, but Luigi cut him off.

“Not judging or anything, but—”

“NO!” Mario groaned, quickly sitting up. “I’m not sick, Luigi!”

“Yeah, right, you’re not sick. You’ve got a fever hotter than a fireball!” Luigi huffed, rubbing Mario’s forehead with one hand.

Mario reluctantly sat up, his bare feet touching the cool grass beneath him. Luigi immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him stand, practically treating him like a toddler. Mario tried to pull away, but Luigi was having none of it.

“And my brother,” Luigi said with a grin, “Is not totally into tall babes.”

Mario snorted, his face turning red. Before he could respond, a puff of smoke escaped from his mouth, and he quickly covered it with his hand.

Luigi, blissfully unaware, led Mario back inside their house. As they walked, Luigi kept rambling about how Mario should stop sleeping outside when there’s a perfectly good bed indoors. Mario rolled his eyes. He didn't exactly understand why he preferred the outdoors, but he knew Luigi would worry no matter what.

Mario’s expression softened a bit. If he were in Luigi’s shoes, he’d probably be even worse. He couldn’t help but appreciate his brother's concern.

“Alright, alright. Sorry for worrying you, Luigi. I’ll... I’ll try to stay inside more,” Mario said, looking down as he had an idea. 

Luigi helped him sit down in a chair, and Mario smirked. “How about this? We head into town, and I’ll treat you to that meal you wanted to try... uh, what was it called?”

“The MUSHROOM STROGANOFF! YES! AND YOU'RE TOTALLY GONNA TRY IT WITH ME?” Luigi squealed, eyes sparkling like a kid on Christmas morning.

Mario smiled weakly, cringing at the thought of eating mushrooms again. "Well... I mean..." He glanced at Luigi’s face, his excitement so pure, his eyes practically glowing. Mario couldn’t disappoint him, not even if they were grown-ups.

"Sicuro..." Mario said with a grin, and Luigi immediately tackled him in a hug, messing up his already wild hair.

“Ai! Don't touch my hair! It's part of the merchandise!” Mario protested, but Luigi just snorted in amusement.

“Oh, really? What about this big ol' belly of yours?” Luigi joked, giving Mario's stomach a playful slap.

Mario laughed, his belly bouncing. “Hey! I know you're sensitive, so I won’t hit you below the belt.” 

“Whatever you want, bro. Whatever you say.” Luigi smiled, and Mario shot him a grin back, showing off his signature gap-toothed smile.

A peaceful moment lingered in the air, the calm before whatever storm might come next. But just as Mario and Luigi exchanged a brief, content smile, a loud, insistent knock shattered the tranquility.

Knock knock knock!

The two brothers immediately perked up, their heads swiveling toward the door. Luigi, ever the good host, was about to stand up and answer, but before he could move an inch, Mario was already on his feet. He quickly strode over to the door, his face already scrunching in a familiar expression of annoyance.

“We don't want anything you're selling, so sc—”

He flung the door open, ready to send whoever was on the other side packing. But as soon as his eyes locked onto the figures standing outside, his words caught in his throat.

"Oh!" 

Instead of some random salesman or annoying traveler, two Toad Guards stood before him, each holding a rolled-up scroll sealed with the emblem of Princess Peach’s castle. The sight of them immediately stopped Mario in his tracks, his usual brash attitude shifting into one of mild confusion and caution. His fingers twitched, instinctively reaching for the scroll as one of the guards extended it toward him. Without a word, they handed it over, turned sharply, and began marching back down the path toward the castle. 

Mario stood frozen for a moment, staring after them. He could feel the weight of the paper between his fingers, and a strange, unfamiliar anxiety began to settle in the pit of his stomach. The guards' silent departure only added to the mystery of it all.

“Who was it?” Luigi's voice called out, pulling Mario back to reality.

“Guards…” Mario muttered; his voice unusually quiet. Normally, receiving messages from the Toads didn’t faze him, but today, something about it felt off. His heart raced slightly, though he tried to shake the feeling. 

Luigi, still a few steps behind, noticed the change in Mario’s demeanor. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, letting his brother walk ahead. Mario slowly closed the door, the soft click echoing in the otherwise still house. He made his way to the dinner table and carefully placed the scroll in the center, as if the simple action of laying it down required some sort of reverence. Luigi followed; his curiosity piqued.

Mario sat down heavily, his eyes never leaving the scroll. Luigi perched across from him, his fingers tapping the edge of the table as he surveyed his brother. 

“Well, judging by how calm you are, I’m guessing it’s not the end of the world, huh? Guess we might even get a calm week for once,” Luigi said, trying to lighten the mood with his typical humor. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, just like Mario. He reached over, eyeing the scroll again, raising an eyebrow. It was unusual for them to get such formal deliveries, especially in the middle of a quiet afternoon.

Mario said nothing in response, his mind a whirl of thoughts he couldn’t quite place. With a small sigh, Luigi leaned forward, unrolling the paper. His eyes scanned it, and then, in a voice loud enough for Mario to hear clearly, he began to read aloud.

The scroll unfurled with a smooth, deliberate motion, its edges crisp and precise as Mario carefully read the contents aloud. 

"Dear Mario,

I urgently need to discuss a matter of great importance with you. It is imperative that this meeting remain low-profile, as I do not wish for the Princess to become aware of it just yet. If your brother Luigi is with you, he is most welcome to join, though I must implore you both to keep this matter between us for the time being. I am doing my best to keep things under wraps until we gather further evidence, but your presence would be invaluable.

Please arrive before the afternoon, and if by chance you encounter the Princess, I ask that you say nothing. Her heart may not be able to bear the burden of the truth at this moment.

I do hope that you two have had a pleasant morning.

Sincerely,  

Toadsworth."

Mario’s eyes remained fixed on the scroll, his gaze scanning the letter over and over as though expecting something to change with each read. After a long silence, he finally looked up, locking eyes with his brother, Luigi. There was a quiet understanding between them, but also a tension that was hard to ignore. 

“Well... we can’t disappoint the guy,” Mario muttered, his voice low but urgent, trying to shake off the unease that had settled in his chest. “Let’s get this moving.”

Luigi didn’t need another word. He nodded, already turning towards their shared bedroom, a determined but wary expression crossing his face. Mario lingered for a moment longer, his fingers still gripping the letter tightly as if he needed to keep hold of something solid amidst the rising anxiety. 

With a quick exhale, he forced himself to focus. He had to get moving. He couldn’t afford to dwell on it now. He grabbed his towel and headed toward the bathroom, his thoughts racing faster than he could process. 

Luigi had obviously showered before waking him up he had to, since Mario tended to take forever in there, but it still gnawed at him that his brother had made sure he didn’t waste any of their precious water. It was a small act of consideration, but to Mario, it felt like a silent reminder that their time together was more limited than they’d like to admit. 

As the water started to run, Mario’s mind wandered again. 

Toadsworth had been so careful with his wording, so deliberate. "Don’t let the Princess know." Why? Why keep secrets from Peach? And what was so urgent that only the two of them could handle it? His heart twisted a little more. Did Toadsworth know about his… late-night activities? Had he been careless? No. No, he couldn’t have. He’d been so careful, or at least he tried to be. He’d always managed to slip under the radar, hadn't he?

But now, with this letter in his hand and the weight of those words, it felt like everything he’d done in secret was coming undone. 

What was so urgent? What was really happening that Toadsworth had to resort to this cryptic request? 

          ____________________________________

Princess Peach awoke gently in her grandfather's study, the soft morning light filtering through the windows. She lay on the couch, wrapped in a delicate cotton blanket that hugged her like a tender embrace. Her lips curled into a soft smile as she yawned, stretching languidly, her curly strawberry blonde locks cascading over her face. With a playful flick of her head, she blew the stray locks away, letting out another quiet yawn. She had forgotten her bonnet in her fatigue the night before, but the weariness from the previous day still lingered.

With grace, she rose from the couch, her soft pink nightgown sweeping the floor as she moved. She carefully folded the blanket, her movements graceful and deliberate, before placing it on the top shelf of the closet. The routine of the morning unfolded effortlessly. She brushed her teeth, then indulged in her skincare regimen with a serene calmness. A quick shower followed, taking care to avoid getting her hair wet since it had been freshly washed the day before. It was as resilient as it was beautiful, save for the one enemy..water that could turn her hair into a frizzy mess.

Once refreshed, she donned her customary royal pink gown, stepping into her heels with a satisfied smile. Her pink lip gloss shimmered lightly, and her earrings, a soft blue with hints of pink, added a touch of refinement to her look. Yes, she was undeniably a lover of all things pink.   

As she hummed a gentle tune, her heart lifted with happiness, and she strolled through the castle, exchanging warm smiles with the guards who greeted her with respectful bows. Her presence always seemed to brighten their day. She descended the grand staircase, her right hand lightly grazing the golden handrail as her eyes took in the beauty of the castle. Just as she reached the bottom, her sharp eyes caught sight of two familiar figures.

“Mario? Luigi?” she called out, her voice full of surprise and delight as she approached them. Mario and Luigi stopped in their tracks, immediately bowing as she addressed them. Princess Peach’s smile softened as she regarded the two.

"Oh, what a lovely surprise! I didn’t expect you two so early." Her eyes twinkled with warmth as she observed them. Both Mario and Luigi exchanged a glance, their faces tinged with nervousness. The princess, with her innate understanding of their discomfort, couldn’t help but smile even more.

“...Principessa...” Mario stammered, clearing his throat nervously. “...Peach... we... we... eh...” His words caught in his throat as he finally looked up at her, only to quickly avert his gaze, a rosy blush creeping across his cheeks. Peach let out a soft giggle, amused by his flustered demeanor.

Before the moment could become too awkward, Toadsworth’s voice rang out from above.

“Boys! It’s lovely to see you both! Come, come!” At that, the two men removed their caps, offering Peach a respectful good morning as they passed her on their way up the stairs. Peach followed them with a raised brow, her lips pursed in playful curiosity.

“Hmmm…” she thought, a soft pout forming as she watched them. But, ultimately, she shrugged, dismissing any lingering questions as she adjusted the hem of her dress and made her way towards the downstairs library. She was in the mood for some quiet reading today. The day was still young, after all, and she sighed contentedly as she pushed open the door to her beloved library. The scent of old paper and fresh ink greeted her, a bookworm's paradise.

Toadette and Toad arrived soon after, as they often did when she held reading sessions. Some days, she read for the children of the kingdom, or even for foreign creatures visiting the castle. She selected a seat by the window, crossing her legs as she arranged the books she’d planned to read. Carefully, she picked the book on top, bringing it to her nose to inhale the comforting smell of a brand-new volume. With a soft sigh, she sank into her chair, the light from the sun streaming through the window, casting warm rays on the room as she began the first chapter. The quiet hum of the castle faded away, and she was lost in the pages, immersed in the world of stories that awaited her.

            ___________________________________

The two brothers stepped cautiously into Toadsworth’s study, a place that, though not unfamiliar to Mario, always seemed to hold an air of quiet mystery. For Luigi, it was his first time. The room was filled with towering bookshelves, obscure trinkets, and curious artifacts, all bathed in the soft glow of the dim, aged light. To a toad of his size, the room felt cavernous.

Toadsworth, his aged yet sharp eyes scanning the room, motioned for them to come closer. Without a word, he began to arrange papers on the table, his movements precise and deliberate. Standing on his chair, the elderly toad adjusted his glasses, looking down at Mario and Luigi with an air of gravity. His posture was formal, even regal, yet there was an undeniable tension in his voice as he spoke.

“Gentlemen, I know what you see may seem trivial, but I implore you to look closer.”

The brothers leaned in, their eyes narrowing as they studied the paper. It was a strange drawing, dark, jagged, and ominous in nature. Luigi squinted and then gasped in surprise.

“…Is that Bowser?” he asked, his voice filled with astonishment.

Mario’s eyes narrowed, his mind already racing to make sense of it, but something was off. The face in the image was monstrous, but it didn’t have the familiar, bombastic features of Bowser. It couldn’t be.

“No, it can’t be Bowser,” Mario muttered, stepping back as the reality of the image started to settle in. “.. It's..” He'll stop speaking.

Luigi, looking closely at the figure, shook his head slowly. 

“You’re right, Mario,” he said, his voice lowering with thought. “It isn’t Bowser, and none of the Koopalings are this big. And we both know that Bowser couldn’t hide something like this. He’s far too obsessed with capturing Peach to be sneaky.”

Toadsworth adjusted his glasses, the lenses catching the light. His face was unreadable, but the tension in the air grew thicker. He rubbed his glasses with a napkin, deep in thought.

Mario’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, his gaze never leaving the drawing. His posture stiffened, walking backwards slowly towards the door. 

Luigi’s voice broke the silence, a note of concern slipping into his tone.

“Shouldn’t we tell Princess Peach about this? I mean… it feels wrong keeping something like this from her.”

Toadsworth sighed deeply, the sound echoing through the room like a weight being lifted from his shoulders. He seemed to choose his words carefully, each one measured and deliberate.

“You’re right, Luigi. We should inform her, but there’s something we lack: evidence. Only you two and two other toads know of this creature’s existence, and I’ve made sure they stay silent. As far as the princess is concerned, this is nothing but speculation. And until we can confirm what we’re dealing with, we must tread lightly. This… creature… whatever it is, could pose a great danger.” Toadsworth spoke 

“I need you both to help me find out what this is. This isn’t something we can leave to chance.”

Luigi nodded, his expression serious, but there was an apprehensive edge in his eyes. He glanced at Mario, seeking reassurance. 

“Alright,” Luigi said, his voice firm, though his gulp betrayed the unease gnawing at him. “Mario and I will take care of it. Right, Mario?”

But when Luigi turned to look at his brother, he was met with an empty doorway.

“…Mario?”

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

FlashFire HCs :)

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I had gotten an ask for this a while back and it got eaten by Tumblr :( So sorry to whoever asked me for this, but I did NOT forget you! But yeah, I hope you all enjoy these hcs bc I do really love this ship.

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I think Scout and Pyro have a LOT of sleepovers. They really do just enjoy spending time together and being able to fall asleep next to each other. Depending on which room they stay in, that typically dictates the night's events. On nights they stay in Scout’s room, they both listen to music, Pyro most commonly resting its head in Scout’s lap while he rambles on about the songs he enjoys and the art of music, or even just about himself, while Pyro is more than happy to listen. But if the sleepover is hosted by Pyro, the night activities are moved to the creative side, crafts, drawing, any and all creation of art is what typically takes place. But regardless of where the night is hosted, they both always have so much fun, and fall asleep with the dumbest grins on their faces.

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I think movie dates are a really common date that the two have. Scout picks more action, adventure, superhero type movies, while Pyro picks horror and thriller movies. Scout always scoffs, commenting on how LAME those movies are, as he grabs the snacks and drinks. And while this might hurt someone's feelings, it never seems to bother Pyro at all. They just shake their head, and lay down, prompting Scout to lay on its chest. Scout really puts on the brave act early on into the movie, commenting on how none of it is scary, even though he audibly gasps at any jumpscare. And by the end, like clockwork, he’s TERRIFIED at the end of every Pyro picked horror movie. It hardly matters though, because Pyro is more than happy to watch some more movies to make Scout less scared, or just hug him a bit tighter during the night to help him sleep better.

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Pyro has its face covered for a reason. They definitely have some level of insecurity surrounding their looks, and their body as a whole. I personally hc that it has a majority of its body covered in burns, as well as their face. So when Pyro finally feels comfortable enough. They ask Scout to come to its room. Letting out a shaky sigh. They slowly remove its mask, and just…wait, nervously. Pyro being worried freaks Scout out more than its body ever would. Scout has Pyro sit down, and takes their face in his hands. Reassuring him that Pyro could NEVER be ugly to him. Scout cares for and loves them. All of them. And I definitely think Scout is big on pressing soft kisses to Pyro’s face, and other parts of its body that are more badly burned. I just really think that Scout always makes Pyro feel loved and is more than willing to worship its body anytime he can. 

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On more than one occasion, while sitting on the couch, Pyro has come over to an unsuspecting Scout who is more than likely just watching TV, and has claimed his lap as their own. Resting its head on his lap, and eventually, they’ll fall asleep. In these moments Scout adopts the same mindset of when a pet lays on your lap. He is physically incapable of moving from now on, maybe forever, who knows. But Scout isn’t really complaining, unless he really does have to get up, then he feels INCREDIBLY guilty. Although most of the time he attempts to move gently so it can lay on the couch without being disturbed, most likely tucking them in or covering it with a blanket as well. 

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I think that Pyro knows, and uses ASL on occasion when they get overwhelmed, or just aren’t able to talk. So they end up using it pretty regularly, and I think this leads to Pyro teaching Scout a few different signs. It taught him the basic alphabet, and some simple signs, [like yes, no, please, thank you] of course, but has also taught him some sweeter signs. He’s taught Scout to sign “I love you” and a few pet names, though the translations are VERY loose. All in all though, Scout and Pyro have fun learning something together, and Scout will continue to learn and Pyro will continue to teach.

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Pyro isn’t the only one to teach in their relationship! I really do think that Scout is able to cook and bake, thanks to his mom, and has picked up plenty of recipes. Sometimes when he misses home, he finds himself making foods and sweets from his childhood. He also likes to ask Pyro to join him in the kitchen! I think Scout definitely shares some family recipes and cooks and bakes up a storm with Pyro, and they always have a fun time together. I think Pyro is a huge fan of making cupcakes and decorating them, while Scout is a bigger fan of making cookies. 

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I already headcanon Pyro as someone with an interest in glassblowing. I really think that's the job it would have been more than happy to do if they hadn’t become a merc. So I do think they manage to do some in their down time (most likely working on this hobby with Engie) and I think it uses this time to make gifts for Scout! Making glass items that relate to things that Scout is interested in. I think Pyro has definitely made Scout’s favorite flowers out of glass, and even some baseball themed items. Scout’s room is definitely full of items that Scout has made, and he’s more than grateful. 

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Similar to how some people have prank wars, these two are definitely in the midst of a full-blown tickle fight turned into WAR. They take it incredibly seriously and will regularly strategize to find the moment one of them is the most susceptible to an attack. Right now, the scores are tied. Although, both are making strats right now, and attacks are bound to happen in the very near future. Well, it’s all playful and good fun, it is also a nice way that they cheer each other up when one of them has a rough day. If one of them is a bit sad, the tickle fight amps up, but also includes a lot of physical affection. Basically, I just really think they love each other and love making each other happy.

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Forgive me for any things that might be a BIT off, very sleepy while writing these up! But I still had a lot of fun, and hopefully more hcs will come! (and also, some fun stuff on eviljamisonwritestf2trash!) But yeah, hope you guys enjoyed, love y'all, now I'm going to bed :)

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[pigeonbksimp]

HI AGAINNNN!!!! 🙋‍♂️🙋‍♂️ Thanks so much for the opportunity!!!!! :D

Here you go with IVABAKU

(I have brown eyes and white pupils, I'm just realizing that in all my recent drawings I have my eyes closed lol)

So well, going with the random factssss:

I'm Argentinian, so my native language is Spanish while his is japonese... I like to think that we teach eachother our own languages! (of course curse words are his favorites)

He has a shelf for things that have to do with me (right under the shelf of All Might merch), it has a sticky note that says "boyfriend shit" and I think it's the cutest thing ever. It has drawings, gifts, letters, and a lot of stuff that he's been accumulating over the years

I own an unreasonable amount of plushies, and so he had to learn the names of each of them. It's funny when he mixes them up lol

Orange cat x Doberman | Calm-eppy x unreasonably angry | Coca-cola x black coffee

We've been 4 years together but he gets WAY too easily embarassed with PDA, which is like my whole love language, so I have a fun time bothering him

I sleep a lot. My naps last at least 2 or 3 hours + the 6-8 hours I sleep at night, and I can sleep anywhere as long as I'm holding something, that something being Katsuki or a stuffed animal... if I fall asleep on him, he will try not to move, but if he HAS to do something, he will move slowly and replace his presence with a near pillow or plush so I don't wake up. And once I'm up, he will complain about me being to clingy while also getting annoyed if I dare to sleep by myself

He is a better cook than me, but I sometimes like to bake sweet things, brownies, cookies, all that; while he cooks dinner and lunch. So he is quite literally the salty one while I do the sweets.

A song that I'm completely and utterly convinced that Katsu wrote ♡

Not sure of what else to say, but well, thanks for reading! :³

Status: open

👏Whiteboard selfship doodles reblog gameeee, leave whatever you want here👏

F/O, S/I, OCs, yourself, or EVERYTHING. Giggles.

Hello community. Reblog art game from that well again! Toss me your ship! I don't mind if you participated in the previous one or anything.

Still not 100% guaranteed. And hopefully I won't burn myself out that quickly. It's just whiteboards. It will be fineee. I suppose. Will leaving some facts and ideas about your ship or characters raise the rates? Definitely!

Despite this being one of the most chaotic places, you are welcome to join. If you want to, just let me know! Comments, reblogs, dms, I'll pass you the link.

Check other posts for samplessss

[lizord-lord]

hyperspecific agony of the day: Want to Write About The Character, do not actually have anything coherent to say. Want To Read About The Character, but keep getting sidetracked wanting to write more. There is so much in my brain and yet I feel like it’s locked in a room somewhere I cannot find or, perchance, an imaginary rock in my shoe. I should PROBABLY just go to sleep but have you considered: The Character