#the angst of being a cloth mommy
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Pet shop of horrors was one of my favorite mangas growing up (I haven’t read it in forever so I don’t know if anything aged horribly, but from memory it was fantastic and you need to read it immediately, there’s also a mini anime series but I don’t know if it’s good) and the bunny one still messes me up to this day (spoilers ahead)
So a quick overview of it is that Count D runs a pet shop, and all the animals in it are actually supernatural that appear to be humans to Count D and customers, and he always warns people on how to take care of the pets when they buy one, but they always ignore his warnings and end up dead, and this detective just knows Count D is related to the murders but can’t prove anything (especially since the animals actually look like animals to him)(there’s so much other stuff going on this manga please, please read it, it’s so great)
And the bunny one is that this couple recently lost their daughter and decide to get a pet to help them with their grief, so they go to Count D who introduces them to this bunny, except the bunny looks like their dead daughter, so obviously they get the bunny
And Count D’s like “even though this looks like a human to you, this is still a bunny, so do not give the bunny any candy” (at least I remember the rule being to not give it candy), and they’re like “we understand” and go home and celebrate over having their “daughter” “back”
And at some point (I wanna say this happens almost immediately?), the bunny looks up at the mom with pleading eyes and asks for candy and the mom caves, which leads to this horrifying outcome of small bunnies (that actually look like bunnies this time) clawing their way out of the main bunny and then I think killing the parents? before all dying themselves because bunnies can’t have candy
And it turned out that that’s kinda how their daughter originally died too, the mom could never say no to her, and when their daughter was in rehab, she begged her mom for more drugs, and her mom slipped her some because she couldn’t say no to her and thought a little bit wouldn’t hurt, and it led to her overdosing (again this is all from memory because I’m scared to pick up the manga again and not have it live up to my nostalgia, so apologies if I got anything wrong)
And that just still messes me up, like she clearly loved her daughter, you can’t deny that, but she couldn’t do right by her, because instead of giving her what she needed, she just kept giving her what she wanted, and it killed her daughter, her daughter’s replacement, and even her and her husband in the end
And I just think if that was in more things (accidentally killing the person you love because you love them and you don’t understand that it’s because you love them that you should say no and disappoint them at times) it would mess me up even more but I’d go feral for it
#the angst of being a cloth mommy#overdose mention tw#does this need any other trigger warnings?#pet shop of horrors#count d#please everyone get into this manga it’s so great#at least in my memory#(and also ship count d and the detective together with me)
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Trial and Error
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: A little angst
a/n: Okay this has taken over my brain. I hope you enjoy it!! You can read the previous little part here and part three here
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
“And what would happen then?”
“I suppose then we would have to turn into giants, wouldn’t we?”
“Giants. Really?” Melanie deadpanned as if she hadn’t just unraveled the most incoherent line of questioning you’d ever heard. Her new favorite game was “what if,” and you were apparently awful at it.
“Well—” you began, pretending to think as you leaned against the counter and tapped your chin. “I guess we could just learn how to fly instead. That way we could go collect the, um… bunnies from the tops of the clouds.”
“It’s cats, mommy, not bunnies. Why would a bunny be on a cloud?”
“You are so right.”
You pushed off the counter and continued restocking the shelves of the small apothecary that had employed you for the past few years. You had started out in Velaris working at a few small bars, but that hadn’t lasted long when they discovered you were pregnant. You had earned enough money to get a small apartment at that point, and you just so happened to find one above an apothecary owned by a rather wicked old woman.
Lucky for you, she was a wicked old woman who no longer wanted to run her apothecary or deal with the space above it. So, you got a job and a place to live without many questions asked—a two-for-one miracle.
“Maybe we could ask Nyx to take us up to the clouds,” Melanie pondered as she fiddled with a bundle of cloves by the register.
“Who’s Nyx, sweetie?” you mindlessly asked.
“A boy in my class. He has wings. He told me he can’t fly very high yet, but soon he’ll be able to.”
You inhaled sharply through your nose.
There were probably several boys in her class who had wings and were unrelated to the Illyrian man occupying your thoughts, right?
You hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know, Melanie. Maybe Nyx could take you, but I might be too big for him to bring me up to the clouds.”
“Oh, good idea, mommy! Nyx’s daddy can fly too and he can bring you. Or he has two uncles that could.” Your daughter stuck two fingers in the air with pride. “I wish I had wings. Mommy, did my daddy have wings?”
You shook your head and abandoned the box at your feet to brush your daughter’s hair back instead. Going to school had opened doors to many questions you had been dreading, and Melanie’s questions about her dad had been coming in waves.
“Your daddy didn’t have wings,” you began, looping a finger around her red curls. “But he did have hair just like yours.”
Melanie tilted her head to the side. “Did you love my daddy? Nyx drew a picture at school of his mommy and daddy and said they love each other very much. Like as much as you love me.”
You fought back a sigh. Nyx was causing you a plethora of issues and you hadn’t even met the kid. “Sometimes families look different,” you explained, running your hands down to brush off the dust on Melanie’s clothes that she’d surely obtained from playing in the apothecary. “I didn’t love your daddy, but that’s just because I had so much love saved up for you.”
“Hmm…I hope you can have someone to love like how Nyx’s mommy has his daddy,” Melanie said after a small pause. And then she swung off the counter and started trekking up the stairs to the apartment as if she hadn’t just aged ten years with her statement.
You blinked at the space she left, baffled by your five-year-old’s abruptness. She had only been at school for a week and was making revelations about your life that even you struggled to come to terms with. You let out a small sound of disbelief and made to follow your daughter up the stairs when the bell above the front door chimed.
“Sorry, we’re closed for the—”
A boot heel clicking silenced your call.
His shadows came in before him, dark swirls instantly sweeping along the walls and wrapping up around the front counter. They didn’t touch you, but there was a hesitance about them that suggested they wanted to. You tore your gaze from their behavior to meet the eyes of the Illyrian from the school—the one you hadn’t seen since and definitely not because you were avoiding all situations where he could spot you.
“Hello,” Azriel greeted with a calmness that was not reciprocated. “Are you closed? I can come back another time.”
Every thought tumbled out of your brain. You had forgotten—almost—how intimidating he was. Not just in sheer size, but in the way he held himself, in the sharp planes of his face that smoothed into softness in the exact places they should.
His wings pressed in towards his back as he took another step forward. The floor groaned beneath his weight.
“Oh, um—” you uttered along with the straining floor. “We are—technically. But I can help you find something. Or place an order for you. No big deal.”
“I wouldn’t want to keep you if you’re closed,” Azriel stressed.
“No, no, it’s okay,” you nervously laughed. Act more normal. Act like there’s nothing… abnormal about you. “Anything for someone from Melanie’s school. What are you looking for?”
Azriel hummed, his eyes lightning. “Ah, so you do remember me. I was wondering.”
Was he looking at you strangely? Azriel kept trailing his gaze around the room and letting it land on your face, evaluating you… profiling you?
You were being ridiculous.
“Of course I do. You gave me great intel on the teacher. I don’t come until the bell rings now.” You rocked back on your heels and shifted your fidgeting hands behind your back. “Was there something specific I could help you with?”
Azriel ignored your question for the second time. “Is that why I haven’t seen you? You come later?”
Was he looking for you?
A strange combination of excitement and trepidation made your stomach drop.
Another nervous laugh. Your palms were sweating. “I guess so. There’s a lot to be done here so I usually wait until the last minute to close up shop and pick her up. That’s why your tip was so helpful.”
Azriel narrowed his eyes in a way that echoed concern, but you refused to read into it. You balanced up onto your toes and fell back onto the soles of your feet.
You could tell he wanted to say more about something—to ask more questions unrelated to the apothecary. But he stopped himself and the restraint was clear in the tenseness of his shoulders.
“I get headaches,” Azriel shared. “Awful ones. I’ve tried healing magic and a few medicinal remedies, but I was hoping to find something herbal. Could you help me with that?”
You breathed a sigh of relief and began rifling through a cabinet to your left. “I may have just the thing. I had terrible migraines when I was pregnant and it took me six tries to get this recipe perfect, but I think it would do the trick for you. I almost hate to share it because I was the one that had to suffer through all the bad batches, but I guess that’s kind of my job.”
You pulled back from the cabinet with a small bottle in hand, a tiny rendition of your handwriting scrawled along the side. You rolled it in your hands for a moment until you saw the shimmering nature of the liquid inside, and then you held it out over the counter and offered Azriel a smile. He replicated it, but it was smaller and looked forced.
“You didn’t have anyone else to try it out on?” he asked.
The question twisted something deep within your chest, but you only grinned and ignored the tightness of your jaw. “Who better than the one with the migraines herself?”
Azriel breathed a laugh through his nose, his eyes not leaving yours. “I suppose that’s true.”
The flecks in his eyes had you paralyzed, unable to move as his gaze held yours. You were breathless, fist tightening around the small tonic still held out in front of you as Azriel reached forward and grabbed it. His skin brushed yours. You shivered.
Azriel’s lips parted to speak. “Where are you—”
A loud thump from upstairs cut him off.
Azriel started, his chin clipping up and his body tensing. He quickly looked back down to you with a panicked question in his eyes.
You fought for the words to say. If you revealed it was only Melanie, he would know where you lived—another piece of information you liked to keep close. But if you didn’t tell him, that could lead to something worse. He looked about ready to bolt up the stairs and battle your five-year-old.
The decision was made for you when Melanie came bounding down the steps with a bowl in one hand and a large wooden spoon in the other.
“Mommy,” she began with a lax posture that did not match the room. “Can I—Oh, hi, Mr. Azriel. What’re you doing at my house?”
Melanie’s interpretation of his name included an extra syllable, and she was still working on pronouncing Zs, but the Illyrian ignored that. “Your house?” he asked. His attention was fully on Melanie, but he sent you a raised brow.
“Um, yes. We live above the apothecary. Melanie sometimes forgets that it’s a business downstairs and not just a private playground,” you explained, rubbing your forearm in discomfort. Azriel tracked the movement.
“Ah, well, it does seem rather fun down here. I can see the confusion.”
Melanie perked up, waving the spoon in front of your face. “See, mommy? There’s lots to play with.”
One of the tightly bound coils in your chest loosened as you shot Azriel a look. “Great. You’re encouraging her.”
“I’ve been an uncle for a few years,” Azriel smiled, rolling the headache tonic between his hands. “I’ve gotten quite good at encouraging terrible things.”
You laughed with a huff and placed a hand on Melanie’s head, bending down to meet her gaze. “Were you going to ask me for dinner? I’ll be up in just a few minutes. I was just putting a few things away.”
“I know, mommy,” she nodded. Then, after a quick look at Azriel from the corner of her eye, she whispered, “Is Mr. Azriel having dinner with us? Nyx has been asking about when we have dinner and said to keep the question a secret, but maybe that’s why he’s here.”
A few feelings barraged you at once. Confusion over your daughter's words; fear that the night court’s inner circle seemed to be asking questions about you; regret that you had given into Melanie’s pleas to go to school so readily.
But Nyx was just a child—perhaps he asked everyone when they had dinner and Melanie was just connecting dots that weren’t there.
But maybe that wasn’t the case.
Maybe Azriel came to the apothecary specifically because you worked there and he was trying to gather intel for the Autumn Court. It had to be common knowledge that the daughter of one of Beron’s men had run away. But Night and Autumn weren’t on the best terms. That’s why you chose Velaris to—
You couldn’t do this right now.
Not in front of Melanie and certainly not in front of Azriel.
You pressed your lips into a firm line and whispered back, “No, he came to buy something from mommy’s shop. It’s just us for dinner, like always.”
A sliver of disappointment fractured Melanie’s gaze. She hooked her chin over her shoulder and sent Azriel a small smile before disappearing into the apartment once more. You wiped your palms on the front of your pants as you stood, taking a breath to calm your raging anxiety.
“Sorry, she…”
“It’s alright,” Azriel dismissed. You looked at him for the first time in a few moments, his expression pinched and difficult to read. “I’m around Nyx a lot. You don’t have to apologize.”
A beat of silence.
The room was cloaked in unrealized tension. You weren’t sure if it was fueled by suspicion or something else. For you, it was, but the wistful way Azriel continued to linger on your figure was read as something else. Something older, more entrenched.
“It’s just two coppers.” You broke the silence, gesturing to the tonic still held between Azriel’s fingers—his scarred fingers, you then realized. You looked back up to his face.
“Only two? After all it took for you to make it?”
You felt your mouth twist at the corner despite yourself. “I don’t know if you’ve seen this place, but it’s not exactly up to par with the rest of the apothecaries. I’m surprised you found it, to be honest. My customers are typically ancient fae with boils and warts.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Azriel teased. He searched through his pocket and placed a small sum of money on the counter between you. “Five coppers—for interrupting dinner.”
“I hadn’t even—”
“Goodbye, y/n.”
You watched him go, not noticing the shadow that lingered in the corner.
part three
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x female!reader#azriel x y/n#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#acotar#acotar fanfiction#azriel fluff
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more ex husband toji plsssss
BABY DADDY TOJI! — TOJI FUSHIGURO
SYNOPSIS...nsfw and sfw headcanons of baby daddy!toji
INFO...baby daddy!toji x fem!reader, toji is also your ex husband, little bit of angst, some fluff, toxic!toji, reader and toji have a daughter, toji is a good dad, possessiveness, arguing, oral (f!receiving), p in v, mentions of marriage, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
baby daddy!toji who is quite literally annoying, always bothering you when he comes over to pick up his daughter. He’ll make jokes about you, constantly poke you. You swear he’s like a big man child
baby daddy!toji who constantly has women wrapped around his arm every few months, and as much as you tell him you don’t want your daughter around that he never listens to you because why would he?
baby daddy!toji who is also your ex husband, little do you know he always keeps his ring in his pocket
baby daddy!toji who still has a soft spot for you. No matter how many arguments or fights your guys get into he is always right behind you in every situation. You called him one night crying because you were stranded at a bar, scared. Toji nearly ran out the house barefoot to come and pick you up
baby daddy!toji who isn’t afraid to say you still look sexy to him. Hand always caressing your cheek before you swat it away and ask him, “don’t you got a girl?” Oh yeah, he does
baby daddy!toji whose relationships never last longer than 2-3 months because they’re simply not you. He knows he’ll never be able to replace you but he still tries (he ends up giving up)
baby daddy!toji who spoils his baby girl, buying her toys, clothes, shoes, whatever she wants. He loves seeing her cute smile and chubby cheeks because she looks just like you
baby daddy!toji who hates how toxic you and him are to each other which ultimately ended up in the downfall of your marriage. But besides that, you two were perfect together and he misses that
baby daddy!toji who loses his shit when he find out through gojo that you’re going on a date with someone. He pulls up to your house banging on the door before you swing it open. He’s barging in, slamming your door shut and y’all instantly get into a heated argument. “Don’t be slamming my doors, Toji! You don’t pay for shit in this house!” You yell, a scowl on your face. “I don’t give a fuck! When were you gonna tell me you were fucking somebody else?!” You weren’t even fucking the guy, you didn’t even get to go out on a date with him yet.
baby daddy!toji who let’s you go out on your date, but he knows he ruined your mood, mentally cursing at himself for being so possessive over you. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s texting you ‘even if we aren’t together you’re still mine’ while you’re on your date. He doesn’t give a shit if the guy sees
baby daddy!toji who shows up to your house unannounced, early in the morning to apologize. “I’m sorry for how I acted, mamas. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Your knees are pushed to your chest as his tongue is lapping at your clit, long drawn out moans filling the room, your fingers entangled in his hair. “Mmmm, I hate you so much,” You whimper, legs twitching as the pleasurable sensation. “Shhh, just let me make you feel good.”
baby daddy!toji who has your favorite flowers sent to your door as another apology, a note written on the small card asking if you forgive him yet
baby daddy!toji who gets sad whenever your daughter asks why you and him aren’t together anymore, letting a sigh because he knows she’s too young to understand. It’s times like these where he wishes you and him could be happy together. “Let’s just say daddy has been mean to mommy a few times.”
baby daddy!toji who always shows up to the parent events and shows. His baby girl is being featured in a play? He’s there in the audience with you. She’s getting an award for student of the month? He’s right there congratulating her. If he can’t be the best boyfriend, he sure as hell is gonna be the best father
baby daddy!toji who notices the moments when you feel insecure about yourself, noticing the days when you’re quiet and more reserved, noticing how you hide away from him when he picks up your daughter. You’ve been having insecurity issues ever since giving birth to your baby girl and toji hates that you can’t see how good you look all of the time. “That outift looks good on you, might have to give Mia another sibling,” he says with a smile. “Toji!” You gasp, playfully smacking his arm. But he sees that smile on your face and hopes he made your day a little better
baby daddy!toji who got too drunk one night and crashed at your place in the middle of night. He was drunkenly babbling as you were taking care of him. “I miss us. You were my girl. You still are my girl,” he spoke. His words made you freeze as you stopped and stared at him for a moment. “You’re drunk, Toji.” You shook your head. He meant every word he said
baby daddy!toji who pops up when he gets a late night text from you asking him to come over. He’s there in a flash, never able to deny you. You two on each other the minute he walks through the door, sloppily kissing each other while he carries you to the bedroom
baby daddy!toji who can fuck you slow and sensual or fast and rough. His favorite position is missionary so he can look at your pretty face while you cum on his dick for the third time. “Missed me, mamas?” He asks, breathless. You nod with a whimper, eyes searching his, the tip of his dick rubbing against your sweet spot with each thrust of his hips. “Oh fuck, I missed you too.”
baby daddy!toji who swears up and down you’ll be the best he’s ever had, literally wifey material in his eyes. You’re beautiful, amazing personality, a good mother, makes him laugh, and you got good pussy. It’s all worth it when you drive him crazy or make him upset. What more could he ask for? One day he’ll put a ring on it
baby daddy!toji who is big on cuddling. This man is a tank, beefy as hell. Who are you to deny a cuddle from him? He’ll wrap you up in his arms after a bad day or after sex and you just fall asleep instantly
baby daddy!toji who stares down any man that look at you when you ask him to take you to run some errands. If looks could kill, multiple people would be dead. He doesn’t like how they’re practically stripping you with their eyes and having sex with you in their head. Only he can do such a thing—in real life too
baby daddy!toji who gains the courage to talk to you and ask if you’re willing to try again with him and be a family. You’re his forever girl no matter the stupid arguments or situations. He’s scared of what you’ll say but he just needs to know or it’ll always be a dying question in his mind. So, would you?
#—☆classyrbf#anime#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#toji x reader#jjk smut#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro headcanons#toji headcanons#jjk headcanons#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji smut#toji angst#toji fluff
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[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( ninth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.
୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro
୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , mentions of sex , profanity , crying , angst
୨୧˚ an; does anyone even care about this anymore LMDOAOO but for real, i’m sorry for how late this part got out. i am battling severe writers block it is dangling me by the BAWLLSSS,, im thinking that this series is coming to a close soon and i never meant for it to get this deep but here we are 🦝 thank you all for being so patient with me i lob you
୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji
There was something about thunderstorms that Toji always felt drawn to. They were great; overbearing in a way, rolling through and burying a perfectly fine day under gallons of rainwater and gray skies. Authoritative, condemning humans to take shelter lest they wish to drown in its fruits. Suffering the consequences; soaked-through clothes and sopping hair. He watches the pane of glass at the roof, a skylight barred into the flat of your high rise ceilings. The rain storm had reduced it into nothing but a drab, dusty square, baring the pelts of precipitation like punishment. Toji holds you in your bed. Your weight drapes across his chest like a blanket, your head tucked beneath the cut of his chin.
“Do you like the rain, Toji?”
He felt naked, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. The silken sheets that wrap your mattress were unfamiliar against this flesh, cold and slippery. Regretting the forfeit of pajamas. You two had shared a shower after dinner, of which you held him with all the sentiment in the world. Toji fucking hates when people stand at his back. He doesn’t like it, feeling a presence before seeing them. But he let you stay centimeters behind, working peach and ginger scented shampoo into the roots of his scalp. When he was a boy and his mother had yet to find a place in the Zenin's private graveyard, he vaguely remembers receiving analogous strokes of care from the only family member in his life who didn’t see him as a filthy disgrace. Mom bathed him like this, scrubbing blood and tarnish from his cheeks with a threadbare handkerchief in that tin can he called a tub. All that fucking family money, but a new washcloth or a proper bathtub was never in the cards for him. He remembers mom apologizing often when she washed him.
Toji fucked you in the shower. A difficult means of having sex, sure, but slippery surfaces and soap in the eyes weren’t enough to quell that undying twist of hunger. So he took you against the sleek porcelain wall with his hands shelving beneath the curve of your ass and your legs constricting at his waist. You guided him to a quick orgasm with spouts of hushed praises spoken to his ear; he was certain you didn’t cum, didn’t feel that cute clench you did the first night you two slept together, but you lied and told him you did with a reassuring grin. Why did you lie?
“It’s fine, I guess.” A hand caressed your thigh, the one that was slung over and hiked up onto his stomach. Toji grazed his nails over your flesh, mindless and dejected.
Thunder clapped, then lightning struck, and all Toji could think in the moment was about you and him. Together. Stark nude in bed with limbs entwined. He, the thunder; loud and fierce. Scary, enough to make little children and small animals shake and cower in the corner with fear. You’re more like lightning, he supposes. Elegant and powerful, something so naturally beautiful.
You will hear thunder and remember me.
More thunder boomed. Toji squeezes your body tighter. “I like that.”
“Like what?” He asks.
You trace wobbly circles against his collar bone, avoiding the slices of silvery skin that raised off the plain of skin. Scars, Toji was doused in gauges. Scraped up head to toe, and he could feel your eyes dart lazily between each and every one of them. “I like the thunder,” comes your reply, followed by a small, bashful shrug. “Ever since I was a kid.”
Toji scoffs. Fuckin’ mind reader. “Liar. Nobody likes thunder.”
“Don’t call me a liar,” you slap his cheek playfully. “I mean it. The quiet can be disturbing sometimes. But to me, thunder is so… human-like? Makes me forget I’m alone.”
This has the man tossing his head back against your feathered pillow. “You’re so full of shit.”
Another stroke of brooding thunder rapped against the window like knock, and if Toji was a believer in the Gods above, he’d curse every last one of them for their shitty comedic timing. You’re giggling into his neck; Toji can feel warm puffs of breath fan over his pulse point. “See?” You ask through a grin. “He came back to yell at you.” He, referring to the crack of thunder. Toji rolls his eyes. Leaves a pinch at your thigh.
“Hey, what did you say before?” Toji walked his fingertips down the curve of your spine, stopping just above your ass. “The fuckin’—the french thing?”
How did it go again? Tu mas something?
It took a moment for you to decipher what he was talking about.
“Tu m'as manqué, Toji?”
Toji bit down on the tip of his tongue, stifling a smile at the grandeur in which you held when speaking the delicate French language. He nods, “what’s it mean?”
“Means ‘I miss you’.” Is he melting? Liquifying into a disgusting puddle beneath your prying palms, soaking into the bed sheets. You lament over his absence, spitting such pure genuine inflections that Toji is inclined to believe you when you tell him just how much you missed his unlawful presence. Like a stray dog that you offhandedly feed every now and again, praying for its safe and soon return back on your doorstep, digging into the leftover scraps of meat you’ve so kindly plated on the stoop. He’s that washed-up, flea ridden, unabashedly feral mutt that can’t help but crawl back to the idea of home. “I missed you. A lot.”
Toji doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so vulnerable. Not even in the throes of passion when he’d had you spread and wet for him did you sound like this. Small and volatile, yet self-assured all the same. How the fuck do you manage to balance such contrasting notions? A witch, you must be something of the sort.
There’s a gap of longing silence that fills the room; Toji concludes that you wait for him to return the gesture. So he does, “I did, too.” It’s the cold, hard truth, and he gives it to you on a silver platter. “Thought about you.”
And he’d leave that there. It was a much sweeter sentiment than to admit that he thought about you particularly often in those bloody showers with his hand wrenched around his hard on. Leaves much room for you to wonder.
You hum.
More quiet. He is fond of the quiet moments with you.
“This looks fresh.” Ruined peace. He feels your thumb pad prod ever so gently at the teared flesh of his pec, the same one you used as your own personal pillow. It was inflamed, red and angry unlike the plethora of other battle scars which have now faded into a cooler pinkish tone with time. You were right; it was new. Nothing but a little switchblade slash—one of the men Toji had decimated this past week was armed. It was a careless mistake, one that had no real impact or effect, Hell, he barely felt the paper cut. But it impacted you, he noticed. “Does it hurt?” A fingertip whispers over the wound, and he flinches.
Not because it’s painful, but because your gingerness made him sick to his stomach. Never more than in this moment did Toji feel so guilty for accepting your tender touches, wishing to holy Hell his conscience would allow him to bite his tongue. To let you keep thinking of him as some down-on-his-luck middle aged man with a shit job and no money to his name.
“Don’t touch,” it’s quick, the way he snatching your wrist. Sturdy bone crushed under the bruising grip of his shaky fist. He didn���t mean to grab you so roughly. You’re taken aback by the outburst.
“I’m sorry.” It’s a meager apology that doesn’t sound right spilling from your lips. It’s trembly and skittish, and your eyes widen coquettishly to flit between his face and the iron-clad grip that joins you together. “I’m—I should’ve asked you first.”
His breathing pattern was off its axis. Shit, shit what is he doing? Toji let’s go, flinching his hand far from your arm like you burned him. He shakes his head. “Didn’t mean to grab you, I didn’t mean to.” Toji pushes up from the warmth of your bed—from the warmth of you—and scans the floor for his boxers.
You reluctantly part from him, gathering the blanket up over your chest as a makeshift barrier between bare flesh and the chilled air-conditioned bedroom. “What are you doing, Toji?” You sound sad. He finds his boxers. They’re balled up, discarded on the far end of your too-fucking-gigantic bedroom. “Toji!”
He keeps his back toward you, mechanically stepping into his underwear and dragging them up over his hips. It’s fucking gross, feeling the crunch of dried semen as the fabric contorts, but it’s ultimately ignored. “Thanks for dinner, you’re a fuckin’ A chef.” Toji spots his sweatpants nearby.
“You got that new cut at work.” You’ve made a power move to ditch the comforter, stepping down into the carpet wearing nothing but your birthday suit. The tone of yours shifts, a steep incline from sweet and patient to demanding and accusatory, and Toji doesn’t like that one fucking bit. His sweatpants on, he tosses you a glance over his shoulder.
“It was an accident.”
“Is that right?” Your brows furrow, gesturing to his torso. His marred, battered, abused torso. “Just covered in accidents then?”
Now he faces you, looks you in the eyes despite your naked form. “Pretty much.” Each lie tastes acidic, like that soupy bile he spits out before vomiting. “Thanks for dinner.” He makes an attempt to stalk past to the door, foregoing the shirt because he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it. Probably lost in a forgotten corner of your room, and with the way his heart raced against his rib cage, Toji wasn’t sure he’d survive long enough in this stuffy room to find it. So he thanks you again with an air of finality, only to be stopped. Your hand is flat against the center of his chest, pressed over the beat of his heart. No doubt about it, he’s sure you can feel that manic tempo.
Beat, beat, beat.
“I really thought we were getting somewhere.” You start quietly, voice hovering just above a whisper. His eyes stay fixed on the tiny hand that has glued itself to his sternum. “I thought we… I thought… I don’t fucking know, okay?
I like you. I like you so much, Toji.”
I like you too. “I…” like you I like you I like you.
“Don’t feel like you have to reciprocate anything. These are complicated feelings, I know that. It’s a lot to spring on a person, but it’s the truth. I’m giving you my truth, and I need you to do the same because I don’t know if I can take another week of you disappearing for however long only to return like… like this!” You gesture to the red gash. “I care about you, and I want to help you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, but you make it so fucking difficult.”
It felt as though every saliva particle had been vacuumed out of his mouth, leaving a dry desert plain for a tongue. He's never been so at a loss for words before, you actually rendered him speechless. Finally, finally, after a minute of gaping like a stupid fish out of water, Toji finds his bearings.
“You’re a good person, Y/n.” He peels your hand off him. “And I’m not.” Toji moves to disconnect hands, but yours follows him, clamping them back together. He can’t find the strength to let go, knowing good and well that his palm was clammy as shit.
Your brows pinch, knitting with confusion at the seemingly random proclamation. “I mean, sure you can be kind of a dick sometimes, but I don’t think—”
You don’t understand. So unscathed by the bleakness of this world, your definition of a bad person is someone who’s ’kind of a dick sometimes.’ Toji’s frown deepens, and he shakes his head, bangs bouncing with the movement. Your fancy conditioner made his hair feel soft against his forehead. “That’s surface level shit. You don’t understand what I’ve done.”
“So tell me—”
“I can’t.” The word cracks in his throat, and he coughs around it. Choking on it like he did your pretty fingers in the kitchen. “Don’t you get that? If it was that easy…”
“Tell me.” Your voice grows calm, yet stern. Aggressive in the gentlest of ways, coaxing the truth to light. Arms crossed over your bosom, you jut a chin in Toji’s direction. “Because I’m really sick and fucking tired of you treating me like I’m incapable of comprehension. I’ll understand.”
You won’t. He knows you won’t.
Time grows slow and thick like molasses; Toji feels caught in the midst of an unwinnable battle. Either direction he takes—to come clean, to dance around the truth some more, to lie—will only serve to worsen things to an unfortunate degree. He stalls. Scratches at his jagged jaw dusted with faint stubble. Then, he paws over the masculine plates of his abdomen, feeling his own flesh. There isn’t any warmth to him anymore. Every ounce of humanity had leaked from Toji’s soul, leaving him to become this cold, withering husk of a man.
When his mouth finally peels open, it takes effort. Like his teeth had been welded together by one of those chewy caramel-coated candies Shiu keeps in his glove compartment.
“I’m a killer.”
A strange sensation splashed over Toji. Maybe it was relieving to finally share that tidbit of himself, to get his shame out in the open and off his chest. His shoulders felt a little lighter, his joints felt a little looser. This high didn’t last forever, though, and soon he was plummeting back down to Earth when your horror-stricken voice shook in his ears.
“That’s not a funny joke.”
“Wouldn’t joke. Not about that.” He swirls the built-up saliva in his mouth.
Your eyes were wide, never leaving him. “You�� you kill people? For money?”
Begrudgingly, “yes.”
You sputter. “How do you expect me to believe something so—so unimaginable?” Your brows sewed themselves, drawn close in absolute bewilderment. Hinging on the cusp between puking and laughing in his stupid face. “This is insane, Toji.”
He scoffs quietly. “Ain’t fuckin’ lying woman.” No saccharine ma’am. “Wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I had to fight to live.” A low blow, but you didn’t seem to take it to heart, far too distracted by your own disturb.
Toji wasn’t prepared for how much this was going to hurt. The disgusted way you looked at him, something you’d never ever done before, made him barely able to contain his quiver. He deserves every morsel of your animosity, but knowing he deserved it didn’t make it any less painful. Toji felt you scanning, analyzing every scar wedged into his torso. His arms. His neck. His face. He sees you making connections, noticing healed-over bullet wounds and knife attacks for what they were: hideous. He watches you make connections, visualizing a new scenario for each scar; for each life he’s taken and how they desperately fought back against him for mercy. Toji’s body bears the story of hundreds of deaths, and you look sick to your stomach at the realization of what he truly is.
An ugly monster.
“Oh my God.” You’re hushed, speaking to yourself. “How many people, Toji?”
He grimaced. “I lost count.”
“Oh my God…” Your hand is pressed to your hairline, and you look exasperated to all Hell. Crazed, maybe. As though he’d just rocked your entire world.
Toji interjects with unnecessary commentary. “I told you. I said you would never understand.”
“No, n-no I understand plenty.” Then, you smile, but it’s not one you’d ever bore to Toji before. It lacks any kindness. It’s empty and unloving. “You’re a murderer.”
He winces. Killer and murderer were synonymous, but for some odd reason being called a murderer was a different type of wrench to the gut. “Yeah.” Toji nods. For the right price, he has slaughtered, fucked, and even sold a few peripheral organs. Because money is everything. Money is food. Money is shelter. Money is life itself. But money isn’t you.
“Get the fuck out of my home.”
You look terrified of him. Toji is frozen stiff.
“I said go! Fucking leave!” Suddenly, you're rushing to collect your crumpled outfit from the floor, feeding your limbs through the small pair of panties and that oversize bed shirt. Amongst the frenzy to get dressed, you snatch your phone from the bedside table and frantically scrawl over the screen with clumsy fingers. Toji sees tears track down your cheeks, they glint from the light emanating off the cellphone. “Or I’ll call the police.”
And turn in what evidence? He’s too good at what he does, Toji doesn’t leave paper trails behind. But he lets you think you have the power to get him in cuffs. You’re already so frightened, clinging to your phone with trembling hands.
“Go ahead. Call them.” His words are lifeless. Lifeless with a touch of irritation. Spat with malice because you would never understand the life he lives, despite how much you’ve preached to him that you would. You teased him, dangling this idea of a normal life in front of his face. One without lies and secrecy, just you and him and this almighty penthouse. This would more than likely be the last exchange between the both of you, the last time Toji would ever look you in the eyes again, and it angered him. All good things have expiration dates. “You know where I live.”
“Just… Fucking leave.” Christ, you were shaking like a leaf. Was it out of fear? Or anger, maybe? Probably a combination of both. Toji gets a few more seconds of stillness in, spent entirely on gulping down eyefuls of you. Even now, face twisted up and cheeks wet from tears, you look so fucking gorgeous. His savior, the one who showed him how to feel again.
“Okay.”
He collects himself, puts on a presence of nonchalant coolness. Like walking out of your bedroom wasn’t the most difficult thing he’s had to do in years. Never-minding the shirt, he walks to the door without sparing a glance back over his shoulder.
Toji leaves. It’s raining, and he is shirtless and sopping wet. Thunder rumbles.
You will hear thunder and remember me.
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I’ll wait for your love (jjk)
Pairing: babydaddy!jk x fm!reader
Sypnosis: co-parenting with Jungkook was easy until it wasn’t
“You cling to your papers and pens. Wait until you like me again. Wait for your love. Love, I'll wait for your love.”
Note: “We Can’t Be Friends” by Ariana Grande inspired me. This fic was also inspired by the original 1961 “The Parent Trap” for a certain scene.
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, mentioned drinking, angst, unprotected sex, etc
Co-parenting with with Jungkook after your recent split needed better improvement in the future.
Since he worked in the early mornings he would take your daughter Eunbi to school. Passing by your house to pick her up. Such as today, when arriving to your home it wasn’t required for him to ring the doorbell or for you to get up and open the door for him.
You once lived together, there was a spare key kept underneath the welcome mat in front of your doorstep. He made way into your home seeing that you both were still asleep. Heading over to eunbi’s room to awaken the sleeping child up for school.
“Bug, it’s time to get up, you’ll be late for school.” awakening his child
“daddyyyy!”, the child excitingly mumbled as she awoke to see the presence of her father.
“Missed you bug, now go on now potty and brush your teeth while I go wake up mommy, m’kay?” Jungkook said while laying out eunbi’s clothes for today. It’s been snowing lately, so layers were needed.
“okay”, the child could only follow the instructions he father had given while rubbing her sleepy eyes.
Jungkook made way to your bedroom where he’d seen the sight of you softly in bed still in deep slumber. You looked so beautiful in tranquility. His gaze softened at your appearance.
The night of your split wasn’t expected. You had garnered up the courage to make apparent how you didn’t approve of him overworking. You understood as he was in the middle of forming his business meaning it required time. But you worked too, you had everything you’d wanted right with you. Til’ his absences led to rescheduled plans and no show dinners.
And that night he had returned late as usual you could no longer keep it to yourself. He had returned home clearly drunk and reeking of alcohol.
Jungkook had blabbered nonsense which led up to this coparenting arrangement. Blabbering some more while intoxicated, he had no filter in what he said which he sure was going to regret once sobered up. Like they always say ‘drunk thoughts are sober thoughts’.
He made you feel belittled as if you and your daughter were a burden to him, a nuisance. Almost as if his business was worth prioritizing more than his family.
“needed a break” or “get off my back” holding you little to no regard.
Jungkook could not live without you and once sober he realized the gravity of his mistake. There was no making amends to what he had caused.
Now you weren’t sure how long this punishment of pushing him away was going to last. Unsure, but just for as long as you deem suitable for the amount of unease he caused you that night.
You loved him equally as much but you kept it reserved unlike Jungkook. He demonstrated in many ways him making up of his actions and words. By always being there when calling upon him, bringing you takeout when you’re too lazy to cook something for dinner, bringing you pads and any other necessities to make your cramps lessen and ease away.
So when jungkook stared at you in adoration at your peaceful figure he felt his heart swell. He inches closer to you siting on the edge of your bedside while leaning forward to caress your hair.
“Sweetheart, it’s 6:47am eunbi’s almost ready she has yet to eat” he said in attempt at awaking you to fix your daughter’s breakfast like you normally do every mornings.
“Too tired…” you lightly mumbled as you turned in sleep and hugging the covers.
“Is that so? Too tired? I can take care of her breakfast sweetheart, you just stay in bed”, jungkook said as he fondly looked at you and landed a peck on your cheek.
As he stood up from the bed about to leave the room your hand met his wrist stopping him. “Jungkook, thank you”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart”, then he was off.
Jungkook had just arrived back home after work. Coming back to a silent home like every other day since your split.
The emptiness, the lights were off, the heater was off, it was disturbingly clean. He didn’t like to return home to this.
He had showered and rid himself of his usual suit and tie, about to prepare himself dinner til the sound of his phone ringing broke his focus.
It was strange to recieve a call as late as 8:40pm if it was not regarding eunbi, she slept at 8:00, so what could you have been calling him about?
“what’s up yn? Is there something wrong? Is Eunbi okay?” He voiced concerned
“No, there’s nothing wrong with eunbi, I actually let her stay with my parents today”
“Oh…” there was a moment of silence
“Hey Jungkook?” You said on your side of the call
“Mhm?” responding
“Could you come over? Please?”
He raced on over to your place then after.
Shutting the door to prevent the chilly air due to the snow enter your home, jungkook makes way.
The heater was on, it smelled of fall due to the scented candles you kept in certain places, the lights were on, family pictures hung on the walls, Eunbi’s toys scattered on the carpet. This was what home is. The nostalgia running back to him. Endearingly gazing upon the area, how he missed this sight.
Drastic difference of how life at his home was currently like.
“Hey sweetheart, it smells good in here. What ya’ making?” removing his padded jacket, scarf and gloves. Taking in the aroma of what you were currently cooking.
“Steak and roasted asparagus, sit down. Are you hungry?”
“I’m famished” jungkook truly was, upon your incoming phone call he had just gotten off work and hadn’t had the time to eat dinner yet.
“Sit yourself down then, I’ll set your plate”
He missed domestic moments like these. Overall any quality moments where it was just the two of you shutting out any thoughts of crossed boundaries.
“I’ll get us some glasses to drink our wine, give me a sec” you voiced
Jungkook’s eyes followed your figure as you had your back facing him stepping foot onto the stool, reaching for the wine glasses kept in the cupboard with tippy toes. He drank in your appearance, how angelic you looked in your simple slip dress and shawl. Even though you dressed comfortably for home you were indeed breathtaking.
Setting the glasses onto the dining table while jungkook popped the cork of the wine and poured the liquid into both glasses, with that the table was set.
Digging into the home cooked meal with wine Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at you in admiration. You catching onto his pupil enlarged stare made a questioning eye contact with him.
“oh yn, you’re so beautiful” puppy eyed jungkook muttered
Sarcastically scoffing at his compliment. You were never one for compliments, never knowing how to acknowledge them or return them.
“Oh please, jungkook” trying to steer away from the conversation knowing you’d get emotional, jungkook continued.
“I mean it yn…I know I don’t say things like you wanna hear them and I know I’ve acted like a complete asshole too but I have to get it off my chest when I say I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately…and us, and the way things used to be.”
You felt irritation in your eyes and lip quivering, your waterline beginning to dampen hearing Jungkook’s heartfelt statement.
Not wanting him to see you break down you turn your head away. Using your soft hair to your advantage hiding away your face.
Jungkook took note of your exterior breaking down, hearing your resisted sniffling, extending his hand reaching for yours.
“I miss it all, especially the silliest things” getting up from his seat heading over to your side where you remained seated, he crouched while placing his hand on your thigh.
Upon hearing that, curious you turned your head towards jungkook where he took in your rosy tinted wet cheeks by your fallen tears and glistening eyes.
“What silly things?”, curiously asking
“I miss your bra’s you’d leave hanging on the doorknob of the restroom, I miss how you’d store my tools with your sewing supplies together, I miss my razor being dull because you’d use it to shave your legs with, I don’t like having a closet all to myself, and y’know it’s no fun swearing because you’re not there to make believe you’re shocked by it.”
“Nothings any good with you yn, I miss a lot of things.”
Gathering the courage to speak you finally voiced out, “why’d you take so long to say these things Jungkook?”
“I guess it’s because I was kinda hoping you’d come back to me upon your own will, I know I messed it all up for us. I wanted it to be up to you to decide whether you’d forgive me. I was just scared that you’d get irritated by me and never want me again…” with that Jungkook began struggling to voice his words, eyes brimming with tears as well.
No words had to be exchanged. You knew with all certainty you could not live without this man.
Pulling him into a desperate kiss, connecting both lips together he hugged your smaller frame, “oh Jungkook, I can’t take this anymore”.
Wrapping his arms around your waist while having one hand then reach towards your nape to push both lips in closer proximity, “Then don’t, I want this as much as you do, sweetheart.”
Eagerly responding the intimate kiss jungkook could not grasp the reality of this, feeling that at any moment he’d awaken from a dream.
“mmhpm, fuck…missed this, missed you”
His lips trailed onto your neck. Smothering wet kisses and bruises all around. Your manicured hands trailed to his neck followed to his hair where you gripped the roots as he continued to abuse and litter purplish marks on your neck.
“mhff gguk…need you so bad”, you panted
“Need you just as bad, baby. Waited like a horny dog for this moment.”
“gguk?”
“Yea, baby?”
“Need your cock in me…”
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my pants.”
Leading Jungkook to your bedroom where you laid on your elbows to watch Jungkook as he undressed. Removing his hoodie head first then getting rid of his shirt after leaving you with a view of his sculpted upper body and a bitten lip.
From the athlete of sculpted greek god abs to the happy trail and waistband of his Calvin Klein briefs. Your eyes trailed over every tensed muscle to inked sleeve catching the tattoo he’d gotten of your initials in cursive many years ago.
You couldn’t resist the temptation the beef cake standing in front of you. Adoring his abs with wet kisses leading up to pecks where your wet muscle teased his nipple.
He couldn’t resist himself either. How you looked under him had the tip of his cock leaking of precum.
Your slip had been sliding off your shoulders. Dangerously almost exposing your full breasts to him. He’d noted how hardened your nipples were as they poked through the thin fabric.
“God, yn… I need to have you now.”
“What are you waiting for? Get to it then.”
He missed this bratty side of yours. The sharp tongue that’d always have you ass up on his lap.
“Keep doing that nd I’ll find other ways to use that mouth of yours.”
You had missed this side of jungkook just as much. His domineering aura had you coating your panties in wetness. He was naturally a softie at heart but when it came to tussling in the bedsheets he was somethjng different.
It’s been months since you last had dick. Whenever you were ovulating it been hard to suppress yourself whenever jungkook was present. He had made it hard especially cause for some damn reason he always looked good. That angered you more.
“Oh fuck! Gguk!” He had you on all fours as he thrusted balls deep into you at a relentless speed.
“S’ too good, baby. Fucking hell, cunt’s too tight. Been neglecting this pussy. Real clear it misses me.” Jungkook said in ragged pants.
Eyes remaining on the way his hips slammed against your plump ass, recoiling at the movement.
“Fuck ggukie, don’t stop…mhhff jus like that..” your head facing toward his direction. You looked like a goddess to him. The way he was taking you from behind to the way your face carried a pleasurable expression with frowned brows and strands of hair falling.
“Didn’t think of it, baby. Let go for me hun, coat this dick.”
“mm..yes! Oh fuck!” You yelped as he lifted your body against his sculpted chest. This angle creating more ecstasy to your arriving orgasm.
Face close proximity to yours where he hid his face in your neck lathering it in bruises. Inching closer to your ear lightly nibbling on the edge of your ear.
“Shit, baby… never get enough of you. Missed having you in my bed like this all for me.”
His words had you on the edge. Hips meeting his own in greed of chasing your high.
He felt your walls clenching upon his length. As well as his own high coming as well.
“Oh fuck.. where do you want me, hun?”
“Inside please, want it inside.” You were quick to respond.
Final thrust and both came in unison. Jungkook rode both highs out as he slowly thrusted. Sliding his now softened dick out of your cum filled cunt.
Arms now wrapping around your figure, both laying in each other’s embrace.
“Love you, baby.”
“I love you more.”
end
#jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x reader#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#slut4jeon
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OK ANOTHER IDEA
OK SO WE KNOW THAT ALASTOR IS A MAMAS BOY AND HAS AN AMAZING RELATIONSHIP WITH HER
SO WHAT IF ALASTOR HAD A FEM S/O BUT SHE HAS A TERRIBLE RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM, ITS JUST SO EMOTIONALLY TOXIC (especially with reader being an older sibling)
reader never tells him though because alastors relationship with his mom is good and she doesn’t wanna make him feel bad whenever he talks about her and one day readers mom comes to the hotel and reader DREADS it and becomes snappy but readers mom wins everyone over (of course alastor too). So when reader explains that she doesn’t want her mom around alastor can’t understand why and reader feels betrayed its only later when readers mom shows her true colors towards reader. And reader of course bites back (or at least tries too)
So basically angst to fluff and SORRY IF THATS SO MUCH😭😭
👀 Mommy issues??? 👀
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: Emotionally Abusive mother, Reader suffering, Reader gets grabbed a few times, Ambiguous ending for mama
Description: ☝️⬆️
When it comes to mothers, it's safe to say you and Alastor had very different experiences
His mother was full of warmth and kindness towards him, doing her best to build him up into a great man
She loved him greatly and it shows whenever he talks about her
But your mother?? Your mother saw you as fucking competition and always found ways to put you down, to make herself better than you
Well maybe she should be the one who was cooking the meals, getting your younger siblings off to school on time or making sure everyone had clean clothes
Just the thought of her made your stomach flip and your legs shake
She would put you down all your life while claiming it was so that you could be a great woman just like her, but not too great, you have to remember who the better woman is
Well now you're both in hell so-
You put as much distance between her and yourself as you could, living your afterlife without her influence
You even got yourself a handsome powerful overlord boyfriend and new friends to share your life with
Even though you're supposed to be in hell, you couldn't be happier
At least you were until your mother showed up at the hotel, her face full of faux worry and tears
"Oh my precious girl! This is where you've been hiding? I was so worried!!"
Before Charlie can even shut the door, your mother has already shoved her way inside and literally dug her claws into you, hugging you
It's all you can do not to throw up, smothered by her familiar scent and grip, hearing her voice again after all this time
"Now let Mommy take a look at you-oh!!! And here I was worried that you were starving! Good to know you've put some weight on those bones!"
And it's already starting-
And now she's crying and rocking you in her arms, cooing about how much she's missed you and how she's never letting you go again
Charlie and the others are just staring at the two of you, completely enraptured by your mother, like everyone always is
She loved being the center of attention
When you finally come to your senses you push her away and create some distance, disturbed by the worried looks everyone is giving her
"Mom, why are you here?"
Oh don't everyone look at you like you're the bad guy!! She's the one who's only here because she wants something!!
"Maybe I wouldn't have to come track you down if you would just visit your poor mother every once in a while...she never even calls me, you know!"
And now she's crying again, Charlie immediately going to comfort her while Vaggie gives you a dirty look
Fucking mommy issues much? Don't fall for this crap
"I don't want to visit you, so just leave-"
"Well now, who is this~?"
Alastor! Yes! He can make her leave! You turn to give your boyfriend a pleading look but your mother catches his attention first
"Oh don't worry about who I am.. just a poor lonely mother who came to see her daughter...but I guess I'll show myself out.."
Alastor doesn't have to guess who she's talking about, even in death you always looked like your mother
His smile gets surprisingly warm and soft, taking your mother's hand in his own in a disgusting display of affection that used to only be for you
"You're Y/N's mother? My my, I should've guessed! You must have so many stories of her from her life! I simply must insist that you say."
ALASTOR NO
You feel sick but nobody notices, your mother already soaking up their attention and winning their hearts
So you turn and leave the hotel, unable to stand being in her presence any longer, you don't miss the smug look she gives you on your way out
You spend all day trying to avoid going back to the hotel until you're sure your mother is gone
You're more than disappointed to find her drinking tea with Alastor, the two of them laughing, her placing her hand on top of his
She always used to try and go after your boyfriends and that hasn't changed either
She hasn't changed
"Oh darling~! We hadn't realized you left! Alastor and I were simply having a moment~"
Alastor lights up when he sees you, only to be visibly confused by your troubled expression
"Y/N! Your mother was just telling me about her life before you! She was quite a wildcard back then!"
Your mother is practically drooling over him, rubbing his hand and winking
"I'm still wild if you ever care to find out!"
You've had it
You tug your mother's hand off of Alastor, forcing her to stand up and look you in the eyes
"You need to leave! Right now!"
And here come the waterworks again
"Y/N..! Darling, what did I do wrong? I'm your mother please don't throw me out like this!"
You just start pushing her towards the door and you slam it shut behind her, sighing in relief
That is until you look at Alastor's face, his smile seeming strained
"Y/N! You can't just throw her out like that, not only is that bad manners but that's no way to treat the woman who raised you!"
Raised you? You raised yourself!!
"Alastor, you don't know what you're talking about so please just stay out of it. You don't know what she's like-"
You're trying to stay calm-
"She's your mother, it's not like she's some evil creature-"
"SHE'S IN HELL OF COURSE SHE'S EVIL-"
"So are you and I, my dear."
You try to put your foot down, tell him that you don't want her here but he's already opening the door for her and letting her back in
She looks so pleased with herself
He invites her to stay the night because of course he does, he would do it for his own mother so why not yours
You try not to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry but your eyes are already hot and watery
"I-I'm going to bed..!"
Alastor calls for you, trying to resolve things then and there but the only response he gets is your door slamming shut
He goes to go after you but your mother stops him with a gentle hand to the shoulder
"Now now...let her cool off for a bit then I'll go make sure she's alright, a mother always knows how to cheer up her child~"
It feels like you spend hours crying in your bed, feeling so hurt that Alastor took her side over yours
Your mom isn't like his, she doesn't nurture, she just takes from you and bullies you
Later, just when you've about cried yourself to sleep, you hear the bedroom door open
"Alastor..?"
"Not a chance, pet."
Now what does she want
"Why are you even here?"
Suddenly she pounces on you, grabbing your wrists tightly, eyes wild with fury she must've been containing this whole time
You don't even know why she's so mad at you, you haven't seen her in years-
"You think you're better than me now, is that it? Now that you're on your own, living in some fancy hotel, got some powerful boytoy, hiding behind hell's princess?"
As a kid, she seemed so strong but now you easily rip out of her grasp and manage to create some distance between you two
"I'm not hiding behind anyone! I'm just trying to get away from you!"
"Oh no no no, that's not how this works! I am your mother! If I have to be miserable and live in filth then so do you!"
"Why are you even here!?"
"Because it's not fair! I deserve to be here! Not some ungrateful little bitch who just happened to fall out of me!"
She lunges at you and you try to dodge her but she manages to grab you by your hair, yanking you back
You're about to start swinging when Alastor is suddenly there, watching the two of you in bewilderment
Then that bewilderment melts away into understanding, then anger
The radio sounds in the room are suddenly deafening, your mother letting go of you so she can cover her ears
You take the chance to kick her away, watching as she tumbles and loses consciousness from the impact
Alastor kneels beside you but you flinch away from him, still feeling hurt
"Y/N...I'm so sorry..." He does look properly ashamed, his smile a little watery
"Why didn't you just tell me that she was like this..?"
How could you even begin to start?? That you didn't want to somehow sour his opinion of mothers by telling him about your own?
That you didn't want him to feel guilty for having a mother who loved him while you grew up having to be a mother to your siblings because your own mom had none to give??
It's just word vomit at this point, but Alastor simply gathers you into his arms, tutting as he checks your scalp and fixes your hair
When he gets to your wrists where your mother grabbed than his smile turns positively venomous, giving your mother a deadly look
"What do you want me to do with her? Anything you ask..."
You're a little irritated that he brought her up, having been too relaxed by the feeling of his lips against your palm
"I just want her out of here..."
And that's all it takes, Alastor calls for Niffty and has her take out the trash, her scuttling out gleefully while dragging your mother
Niffty doesn't even care, she's just happy to have a new toy
You didn't realize how stressed out you were until it was just the two of you, Alastor rubbing your back soothingly
You don't know when you fall asleep but when you wake up Alastor is kissing the side of your face, looking as apologetic as he can be
You manage to convince him to apologize in morning snuggles and by the time you two come downstairs everyone else is awake
"Where is Y/N's mom?"
Not Niffty giggling and running out of the room
Alastor simply shakes his head and wraps an arm around your waist to hold you closer
"She is gone and won't ever be visiting again, I would like to ask that nobody brings her up again~"
Something about the way he says it manages to shut everyone up
Alastor takes you out to eat your favorite breakfast and spends the day spoiling you
He doesn't bring up the events of last night until the two of you are in bed, entangled in each other's arms
"You didn't ruin my opinion of mothers, you know."
"I didn't?"
"No, in fact, it sounds like you were quite the mother back in your day~"
Not his hand rubbing your belly
OH MAMA THIS ONE TOOK ALL DAY! I hope you liked it!!
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin x reader
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blooming wallflowers (m) | knj
⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again
⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation. ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading! ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia
⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints
⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission ⟶ Read on AO3 ⟶ Short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie
On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together.
But today is not one of those days.
“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands.
“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.”
Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started.
“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.
“I am not!”
“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.”
Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!”
Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry.
Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it.
Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter.
You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute.
Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now.
Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something.
She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon.
“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them.
You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries.
For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things.
“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—”
Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn.
“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry.
Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to.
Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment.
“Hi there, do you need any help?”
“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.”
“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.”
Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.”
All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked.
Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.”
“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?”
Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl.
“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer.
“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight.
As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.”
A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.”
“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.”
Find the beauty in the chaos.
You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time.
Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane.
You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead.
Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe.
Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened.
While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend.
And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says.
It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him.
“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.”
And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other.
“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother.
“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.”
Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.”
Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding.
Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.”
“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.”
You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour.
Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than.
The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”
Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.”
Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”
The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.”
“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both.
Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.”
Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head.
Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real?
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders.
No, none of it involves you.
Maybe.
You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.”
You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave.
Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.”
You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car.
Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye.
“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter.
“Yes, um. You too.”
Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls.
“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.
“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.
“I’ll see you girls around!”
Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving.
Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon.
Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all.
There is truly no beauty in this chaos.
Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.
It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse.
But, of course, it eventually did.
Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.
Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now.
But must it happen when you are inside it?
The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself.
You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm.
At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself.
It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together.
You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt.
“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation.
You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space.
“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little.
“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator.
It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away.
Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in.
Is the building really burning?
Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?
What happens if help doesn’t come?
What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—
You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope.
Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—
A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way.
"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”
"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."
You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.”
Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall.
Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.
"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."
Safe.
The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside.
More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.
One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?”
Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn.
"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."
You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.
"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."
Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold.
With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak.
“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met.
“I told you we’d meet again soon.”
“Is this really necessary?”
You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem.
Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere.
Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office.
“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.”
“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?”
The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still.
Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by.
“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.”
The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—”
His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.
Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.
“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.”
Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.”
He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.”
You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.”
“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?”
“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.”
At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.”
For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?”
You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.”
With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side.
“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?”
You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”
“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.”
You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.”
“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.”
As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next.
“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest.
“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.”
You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing.
“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.
“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”
You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.”
You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again.
And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself.
“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.”
Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency.
Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye.
Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.”
Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.”
It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city.
The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender.
“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders.
Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.”
“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh.
“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.”
“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.”
Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down.
Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.
Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive.
He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more.
He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled.
He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago.
It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away.
Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—
He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so.
“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.”
Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.”
Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.”
Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.”
“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink.
Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild.
“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?”
“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.”
As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time.
“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink.
“Sure. Anything.”
“Do you believe in fate?”
Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?”
Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home.
“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.”
“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks.
“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts,
“To friendship.”
Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?”
“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.”
Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?”
“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home.
“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.”
Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.”
Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.
The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage.
Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel. It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it.
“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side.
“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter.
You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.
“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at.
You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.”
Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.
“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.”
Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence.
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows.
You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself.
As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”
Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.”
“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over.
“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”
Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips.
“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”
“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?”
“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”
Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.”
“Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this.
You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender.
“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going.
The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone.
Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing.
You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it.
Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years.
As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all.
Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—
Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name.
“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach.
“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?”
“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.”
Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them.
“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon.
“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.”
You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.”
Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?”
“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?”
You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes.
Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink.
It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night.
Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night.
Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.”
“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?”
You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once.
“I think I’m going to stay.”
Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.”
You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame.
“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.
“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?”
The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”
“Surprise me.”
Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.”
“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?”
Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”
You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree.
“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing.
“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”
He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”
You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”
He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him.
The look which shows a different kind of want.
And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more.
It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right?
Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it.
But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance.
Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,
“Do you want to get out of here?”
Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to.
“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse.
“Your place, or mine?”
A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer.
You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?”
Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his.
“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him.
“No, they’re at my parents.”
A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?”
You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.”
Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this.
In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come.
He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless.
“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh.
Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home.
In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips.
He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer.
“Of course.”
“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you.
“Since the fire alert?”
“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.”
Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls.
No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates.
“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.”
Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?”
With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—”
You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?”
Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—”
Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.”
You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you.
As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it.
Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life.
“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.”
Namjoon laughs. “What—?”
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss.
“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—”
It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once.
“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home.
As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see.
Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air.
Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home.
Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.
Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you.
He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss.
For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss
Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue.
He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours.
The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his.
Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.
Tonight is going to be a good night.
As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door.
It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer.
You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot?
Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way.
Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does.
As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from.
It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions.
While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste.
You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards.
Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.
Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night.
He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”
Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms.
A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles.
You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt.
His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso.
It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you.
You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more.
Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp.
“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him.
“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”
He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time.
You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look.
“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you.
Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly.
The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand.
Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath.
“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.”
Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.”
“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach.
“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control.
He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead.
With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs.
Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.”
He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin.
Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings.
Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself.
Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?”
“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.”
At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders.
Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more.
Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him.
Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss.
His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making.
In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom.
His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment.
Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth.
Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release.
“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm.
Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release.
“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.”
“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles.
“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him.
Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.”
Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you.
It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you.
As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further.
Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness.
Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs.
“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?”
Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body.
Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure.
With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them.
Dear God, help me.
You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind.
Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place.
“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.
“Everything okay?”
You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.”
Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.”
Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.”
His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.
“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.”
You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom.
Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed.
Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees.
Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you.
Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow.
An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own.
Desperation.
Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel.
Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done.
Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name.
His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you.
Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs.
You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds.
His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure.
With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core.
With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other.
It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body.
Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high.
Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.”
His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry.
You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss.
Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth.
This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm.
With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips.
Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance.
“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.”
He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed.
The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again.
You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze.
He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath.
“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.”
You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit.
Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over.
“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.
His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late.
The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.
“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.
“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away.
His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?”
“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.”
The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?”
He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position.
Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time.
You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough.
As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you.
His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core.
Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly.
You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips.
A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent.
“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size.
Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts.
“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free.
Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now.
These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure.
“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.”
Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers.
With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it.
Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin.
Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns.
“You’ve already came too many times, so—”
Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.”
Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod.
Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.
“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow.
Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other.
Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy.
“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still.
Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you.
“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core.
“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.”
With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop.
“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body.
It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies.
It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking.
“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat.
You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste.
He’s close.
“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.
“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build.
His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge.
A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm.
Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss.
The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt.
Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent.
“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder.
“Hmm…yes, it was…”
A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say.
Incredible. Astounding.
“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him.
You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him.
Stay the night.
The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon.
“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes.
“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?”
“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?”
Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more.
You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin.
You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time.
Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.”
Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.”
You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?”
His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.”
Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines. Update | you can read more in the short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie
— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
#namjoon scenarios#namjoon smut#k-vanity#bangtanwhq#namjoon fanfic#namjoon scenario#namjoon angst#namjoon fluff#namjoon x reader#bts fanfic#bts scenario#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts x reader
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HONKAI STAR RAIL MEN AS FATHERS! pt one.
— featuring ┊jing yuan, blade, dan heng, gepard x fem!reader (all separate)
— warnings / content warnings ┊hsr men as fathers !! mostly fluff ! SPOILERS ON BLADE’S (?) PART, not proofread i think, you r married to them here, a little angst on blade’s but it’s nothing much, mentions of pregnancy, blade referred to as “ren”, them being absolute sweethearts </3 overall just fluff! | pt two. (luocha, welt, sampo) pt three. (aventurine, dr ratio, argenti, boothill, sunday gallagher)
— a/n ┊oh my days i’m sooo obsessed w these, i love thinking abt them too like okayyy.. strong jing yuan + gepard best father believer !! I ALREADY MADE A SEPARATE TAG 4 THIS TOO SO I CAN RAMBLE ABT IT W MY PRECIOUS FOLLOWERS, ANONS N MOOTS !! </3 you could tell i had fun writing gepards (i rlly did)
best papa #1. jing yuan (DILF DILF DILF!)
- JING YUAN would be such an amazing father, it’s like it’s natural to him, he’s one of the sweetest n most supportive ones !! when he found out about your pregnancy he would spin you around in his arms, kissing the temple of your forehead whispering “i love you”s under his breath. hes such a dilf too jesus fuck
- JING YUAN would have three kids (jesus christ) two girls n one boy, HE WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD DAD N I KNOW IT! he’s so patient and gentle with you during your pregnancy, and he was even more patient n gentle w his own kids, he loves them very much. he would be willing to teach his children everything, he would help them with their swordsmanship skills and even help out with other things, he’s such a good papa it hurts, he’s so gentle with your children, he’s an absolute natural! it’s like he was meant to be a dad almost
- JING YUAN who would be protective over his kids but not too protective, he loves seeing them all free, especially when they were just little cute babies. his eldest daughter loved running around his office, tugging at his clothes and asking him to play with her.
“dadddd! play with me noww! brother and sister wants to play too, we’ve been waiting for ten minutes like you said, but it already passed!”
“not now, princess.” his lips melted into a soft grin, giving his daughter a small pat on the head. “how about this, how about you and your siblings accompany daddy while he works, ‘that sound good?”
- JING YUAN who tries his best to make his children happy, i bet he’s the type to sing small little lullabies for them to help them sleep, rocking his little son in his arms as he has his small little fingers around his. he’s great with animals as well, he would take his children to a little adventure one day and have them hold and feed the birds that are always around him, nibbling on their tiny hands as he guides them, helping them try and feed it.
“go on, try and feed him. he doesn’t bite, he’s not scary either right? dad’s here to protect you, remember?
- JING YUAN who would talk to his children when they were still in your womb, telling them stories about his life, his adventures and telling them how beautiful their mommy was. jing yuan would consider this as his daily routine, he loved talking to his little ones even before they were born!
“hey princess. daddy loves you so much, y’know that?”
“daddy is excited to meet you too sweetheart, yes he is. but try not to give your mother a hard time, okay?“
best papa #2. blade
- BLADE who never thought he’d ever become a dad because of the life he lives, so much regret and grief in his heart so therefore he would start off a bit rocky, he was a bit unsure and didn’t quite understand the aspects of being a father and that worried him so much. he was terrified of not fulfilling his duties and responsibilities as a father but you always reassured him that he’s doing the best he can and that’s what truly matters.
“ren honey, she can’t support the weight of her own head, you know?”
“.. she can’t?”
oh boy.. he had a lot to learn.
- BLADE would probably have one kid! HE WOULD HAVE A DAUGHTER IM CONFIRMING THAT RN. your little princess is almost bound to look like him! she’s like a mini version of blade as she has the same hair, same eyes, etc! aaa it’s so cute! he thinks so too, he just doesn’t have the balls to actually admit it. his little princess would think of her papa as the strongest person in the world! it’s adorable honestly, she wants to be just like him, big and strong!
- BLADE who would be extremely overprotective over his daughter, he would have a very soft spot for her too. he would give everything his all to secure her knowledge about the current life he was living right now as a stellaron hunter, he knew he wasn’t the best, but he was willing to change for you and his child. yet, it still worried him. it still worried him that maybe one day his daughter will eventually find out about his past and follow his exact footsteps, everyday he prays nothing like that happens, he wants her to do good, not bad. he doesn’t want her to fall in the same path he went before.
- BLADE who honestly didn’t expect to have a child himself, so when he was caught right handed carrying a small little child in his arms, kafka and silver wolf would doubt him at first, asking him if this was just another child he found in the middle of the streets, shocked to find out he was acc a father n he wasn’t messing w their heads again skull emoji
“that’s.. that’s your kid?!”
“yeah.”
“she looks just like you..”
“are you sure you aren’t messing with us? you actually had sex?!”
“.. could you have worded that a better way?”
- BLADE who would find comfort in his own family, making a promise to himself that he would absolutely devote his love to you and his little princess, he would do everything to protect you and her, even if it means risking his everything for the both of you. but yet.. he still thinks about how he’ll eventually watch you and his little princess die while he lives on, for eternity. he wants to bask in the presence of his beloveds for as long as he could, he would break the curse of his immortality if he could, just so he see his loved ones die, no.. not again. he can’t afford to see the two most important people of his life die, once again. but he knew, his fear would come true eventually.
best papa #3. dan heng
- DAN HENG is a SWEETHEART. tbh hes a a lil confused but he’s trying + he’s learning! he also never expected he would ever have a child of his own, he doubted his own abilities at first but he got the hang of it as it flows through, he’s an outstanding father too! he’s just a lil confused but he’s got the spirit
- DAN HENG would probably have multiple kids, about two! one girl and one boy. when his first child was born, he felt a wave of happiness and relief wash through his body as he was finally taking in one of the biggest responsibilities there is, he promised himself he would do his best for you and his kids, and he really kept his promise! he does try his best and tries his hardest to give them the utmost care and support, he loves his pretty wife and his kids sm and it shows
- DAN HENG would have good hearing! when his young ones were still little babies, he would usually be the first one to aid them whenever they wake up in the middle of the night crying, gently rocking them in his arms until they fall asleep in his arms, their small hands on his shirt. so cute <3
- DAN HENG who would help his kids fall asleep by sitting or laying by their side and watch them sleep, maybe he would hum a tone or two.. he just can’t comprehend the fact that he was the father of these kids, he treasures them sm and you notice it, he’s just so so sweet to you and your kids
“dan heng?” you would call, entering the room of your kids before seeing your husband laying on the edge of the bed, arm over the two young ones as a gentle grin forms on your face as you shut the door, god. you married the right man.
- DAN HENG who just wants the best for his kids, he would come off as too overprotective sometimes and it might look like he was angry but in reality he just wants the best for them and wants to keep them safe.
“i thought i told the both of you not to go there.”
“.. but daddy you didn’t say that! that’s no fair!”
dan heng crouched down to his daughter’s level, eyeing her and his son down. “daddy doesn’t want you both to get into trouble. plus, you could easily get hurt or stepped on from some big monster.”
“dan heng, stop scaring the kids.” you crossed your arms, before a tug on your shirt was made,
“no no mommy, it’s not scary! because we know that daddy is always gonna be there to save us!” dan heng grinned, pulling his two younglings in a tight hug. he really does hope he can fulfill that, he wants to be there for them after all.
best papa #4. gepard landau
- GEPARD is such a girl dad, he would have three little princesses! gepard is surprisingly a good dad, like i said he’s a such a girl dad he would cherish and love his princesses (including you <3) until the end of time, he’s such a good dad it makes my heart melt, he would probably ramble about the fact he has three daughters to serval, HES SOOO SWEET ABT IT TOO. “mhm mhm. i have three princesses in my household!” is what he would say, he loves his daughters smmm HES A GIRL DAD U CANNOT TRLL ME OTHERWISE. speaking of serval, she would be an amazing aunt i know it!
- GEPARD is such a loving and doting father! when his first daughter was born he probably thanked every star in the whole universe for this amazing gift that was brought upon him and you, HE LOVES YOU AND HIS DAUGHTERS SM BRO. he can be a bit overprotective and it might lead him to seem a bit controlling but he doesn’t mean to be or sound controlling in the first place, it’s only because he wants his daughters to be safe, he knows how bad the world can be and he doesn’t want anything to happen to them.
- GEPARD who is willing to style his daughters’ hair, honestly you wondered where he inherited his skills from since he’s such a natural at it! (he got it from serval) sometimes you’ll even see one of your daughters in cute little pigtails held up in cute little pink bows, it’s so adorable to you!
“who did your hair baby? it looks great today.”
“daddy did!” when she said that, gepard would probably be eavesdropping from the kitchen, a huge stupid smile on his face <3
- GEPARD who does his best to protect his wife and his children, sometimes you would tell stories to your kids about how amazing gepard really is, and how he’s the captain of the silvermane guards! i bet if they still had fears over little things like monsters under their beds etc your daughters would always go to gepard so he can “fight” the monsters off, gepard finds it so adorable how go to him whenever they’re scared, because he knows he can protect them from anything <3
- GEPARD probably has a daughter that looks up to him a lot, trying to follow in his footsteps. when his little daughter was little, she would sometimes sneak out from her room and sometimes catch him training, doing weird motions with his hands she didn’t quite get and copy him! she views gepard as “the strongest hero in the whole universe”
“daddy daddy! look look, it’s a drawing of me in your armour! one day i’ll be just like you, brave and strong!”
the blonde’s gaze softened, a low chuckle leaving his chest as he picked her up from the ground planting a quick kiss on her nose. “you’re already brave and strong, princess. you’re just as brave and strong as daddy is”
he’s such a girl dad ugh i love those men
#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა#hsr : papas ! ♡#jing yuan <33#blade <33#dan heng <33#gepard <33#gepard fluff#gepard x you#gepard x reader#blade x reader#blade fluff#hsr blade#blade x you#dan heng fluff#dan heng x you#hsr dan heng#dan heng x reader#jing yuan fluff#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#hsr jing yuan#hsr fluff#honkai star rail fluff#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#GEPARD N JING YUAN BEST DADS
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"Jungkook is always plagued with guilt when he has to leave you for a business trip. His anxiety that you might be angry at him for not being present is especially high this time around and only your safe embrace can help him calm down."
Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: married life!AU, mild Hurt & Comfort, Smut
Warnings: Jungkook is anxious, stressed & guilty, he cries, she is so comforting, hugs and kisses, needy sex, sloppy mutual masturbation, handjob, pussy fingering, penetrative sex facing each other, until he pushes her to her back and fucks her missionary, strength & muscle kink, he is so passionate and rough in missionary, I don't think that there are distinctive roles in this, I guess you can call it Top!Jungkook with a Mommy kink, she calls him Bunny at first before he fucks her to the state where she can only call him by his name, dirty talk, sensory deprivation in the sense that they fuck in complete darkness, they're so so desperate for each other, tears because it's so good, multiple orgasms for her, creampies, cockwarming as aftercare, with cuddles and kisses <3, they're fucking soulmates
Wordcount: 5.3k
a/n: i wrote this after kook's solo concert because he did it to me. i also reread THE angst chapter of aaol and i think this influenced me as well. i really want my kookie back
The plane wasn’t supposed to land this late. The plans were all ruined.
Jungkook scans his eyes over the kitchen. Empty. Clean. He abandons his suitcase by the stairs leading up and walks to the fridge. He opens it. His heart stings. The plans were all ruined. He wasn’t supposed to come home this late. You made dinner for him. The prettily plated food is still on its original plate for him. You put a glass bowl over it to keep it fresh.
“Fuck��, Jungkook presses out and closes the fridge. He feels so fucking guilty that he wants to throw up. He should have been there. He should have eaten your food and talked to you during dinner. He should have fucking been there.
You knew that he wouldn’t come home. He was aware that his text came way too late, but he still had hoped that you hadn’t started cooking yet. Of course you had.
It has been longer than a month since he last was in Seoul and you always cook the grandest things as a welcome home surprise. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to cook, you do it because you want to. Which makes him feel all the shittier right now. He wasn’t there to appreciate it. He had one job - the most important job of all - and he fucking failed you.
Jungkook walks back to his suitcase and lifts it. He will carry it upstairs and then do the laundry tomorrow. He can’t be bothered tonight. It’s already too late. He already wasted too much time being his shitty CEO self.
The dressing room is empty and clean. It faintly smells like lavender in here. He knows it’s because you cleaned this room recently. Jungkook discards the suitcase by the dresser and leaves the room.
He takes a shower in the upstairs bathroom. He didn’t want to go downstairs yet. He is a little scared to do so. He shouldn’t have arrived so late. He is scared of your reaction. He gets so sad when you are disappointed in him. He hasn’t decided yet whether it’s his anxiety disorder talking or the truth, but he thinks that you will be angry at him.
He is angry at himself. He’s a fucking shithead of a husband. That’s what he fucking is.
Jungkook manages not to cry in the shower even if he really wanted to. His feelings are eating him up alive. He feels so stressed. So tired. So exhausted. Work has been hell. And the fact that it was in a country he barely knew the language of and he had to be without you made it even worse. He feels so drained.
The shower doesn’t help. It cleans him, nothing more. Jungkook doesn’t put on clothes and leaves for downstairs. He uses the never ending city lights as his guidance. The wind carries the distant purring of the traffic to the windows. The slightly higher pitched pitter patter of his naked feet on marble floor is loud in comparison. The sound stops in sync with Jungkook stopping in front of the bedroom door.
His hand is shaking. He has to hold it to calm down. He is so scared. You will be so disappointed with him. He wouldn’t even be surprised if you told him to sleep on the couch tonight. You never did so before, but things can change. One month is awfully long and he left you hanging today. He wouldn’t blame you if you sent him away.
Jungkook takes a shaky breath for courage and steps inside. The room smells like home. Jungkook feels his throat tighten in emotion. This is what home smells like. And he was too late for it. He swallows down his tears and tries to walk it off.
The electric blinds are closed all the way, putting the room into complete darkness. Jungkook uses the light of his phone screen to tiptoe to the bathroom. He still needs to brush his teeth. He does so using his phone’s flashlight as the only light source. He didn’t want to turn on the big lights and risk waking you. Or maybe he didn’t want to look into his own eyes. He can’t bear to face himself tonight.
Jungkook leaves the bathroom door open and tiptoes to the bed. His phone screen gives off enough light that he can see you once he arrives by the bedside.
You are turned to his side, resting your hand on his blanket. Your cheek is squished as you are sleeping halfway on your stomach. Your lips are parted as soft breaths leave you. Jungkook looks back at your hand resting on his side and gulps down the painful lump in his throat. You shouldn’t have had to fall asleep alone tonight. You shouldn’t have had only his memory to hold.
Jungkook picks up your hand so he could slip under the covers. You react to the gentle nudge with a hum.
“Mhm”, you let out and roll over, now showing off your back.
Jungkook is aware that you didn’t do it on purpose, but it feels like it. You turned your back to him and it’s his own fault.
Jungkook tugs the blanket under his arm and touches your back. Up and down. Up and down. He feels you breathe. Your warmth is so familiar to him. He missed it so much.
He missed you so much.
His eyes start burning.
“I’m sorry”, he whispers shakily and turns his back to you. He can’t face you anymore. It hurts so much. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to cry.
The sheets ruffle as you move around again. Jungkook doesn’t feel the movement because you and he have separate mattresses and separate blankets to get the best sleep ever. You shared a mattress and blanket at first, but decided to upgrade your bed a year ago. Jungkook likes his mattress firm and his blanket thin, while you love to have a softer mattress and your blanket to be thick. And the little mattress movements as one of you rolled around or the blanket wars which once managed to wake you are gone as well. Changing one mattress and blanket for two was the best decision ever. You and he sleep like royalty these days.
Jungkook hears the sheets ruffle as you move around and then the sound of a hand sliding over soft sheets. Warmth touches his back. He tenses up, stays silent. You draw paths along his back, feeling him up. Seeing him. Just like he did all those years ago when you were still masked soulmates aching to be together. It became a little thing between you and him to trace the other in darkness as to make out if it was your other half. You became so good at it these days.
Your touch dances up to the nape of his neck after exploring his upper back. Jungkook shivers and aches to lean into your touch. He is scared to do so now. He already waited for too long to speak up. You’ll know that he is intentionally acting asleep to avoid talking to you.
You close the distance, taking him into your arms to pull him against your chest. You are propped up on your elbow, using the position to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck so you could kiss him.
Jungkook exhales shakily, releasing all of his tension with a tremble. This just broke him. To be cradled and kissed. It broke him.
“Are you awake?” you whisper softly. The words swirl against his neck.
He nods his head.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
He hesitates. Should he be truthful? Will you be hurt if he was?
He shakes his head. He can’t lie to you. Not like this. Not when you hold him so safely. Not when you have broken him with your embrace.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m sorry”, he presses out and sobs softly.
“Hey”, you gasp, straightening up, “hey, are you crying? What’s wrong?” you babble and roll him to his back so you could cradle his cheeks. You wipe his tears away, keeping close by resting your chest against his’, “what’s wrong, Bunny?”
“I’m sorry for tonight. I’m so sorry for being late and, and not showing up. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay, hey it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. The flight was delayed. You couldn’t have known.”
“I saw the food”, he confesses and squeaks sadly, “I didn’t show up, I’m so sorry. I should have texted sooner, I should have-”
“How could you have texted me sooner if you didn’t even know that the flight would be delayed?”
Jungkook falters. He sniffles repeatedly, taking sharp gasps for air to regulate his breathing. What you say makes sense to him. He didn’t even think of it yet, despite it being the most logical explanation. So it was his anxiety disorder kicking in.
You caress his left cheek while your right hand guides your pointer finger up and down along the bridge of his nose. You call this touch your magic touch because there is some sort of magic in it to calm down any sort of anxiety Jungkook experiences. Jungkook flutters his eyes closed and sighs as comfort overtakes him.
“Now tell me how you should have texted me sooner, mhm?” you ask in a soft, comforting voice.
“I don’t know”, Jungkook whispers.
“Of course you don’t, it’s impossible. The flight was delayed. It was an unfortunate series of events and not your fault”, you assure him, “unless you intentionally stayed away. Mhm is that it? Did you not wanna see me already, you sneaky Bunny?” you add in a joking tone, making Jungkook giggle.
He shakes his head, “no Mommy, I wanted to see you.”
“Good”, you say in a fond voice and claim his lips in a smooch.
Jungkook gasps because he hadn’t expected it. The feeling finally seeps into his consciousness. He is kissing you. After thirty three days without you, he is finally kissing you again. Jungkook whimpers and hooks his fingers behind your head, deepening the kiss with trembling lips. He is kissing you again. He is finally realizing that this is happening, that he is back with you. He hooks his arms behind your head and pulls you closer, asking for your taste. You part your lips and meet his begging tongue, while your fingers explore the softness of his hair.
You feel a little dizzy from sleep. You didn’t have the deepest sleep tonight because you knew that Jungkook would come home and you subconsciously refused to find deep sleep. So when Jungkook got into bed, the rustling of his blanket woke you. The pull was instant. You needed to feel him, make sure that he was finally with you again. Your body didn’t expect to be in the current position for such a long time. Your arms are weak and your head is dizzy.
You break the kiss because exhaustion makes you do it.
Jungkook chases you, rolling you and him over so he was the one on top. His right arm rests around you just a little under your breasts, his left hand is cradling your cheek while his right hand is deepening in your hair as best as your texture allows it. He claims your lips in a kiss again, whimpering into it as his body seeks your closeness. Two layers of blanket are keeping you apart. Jungkook doesn’t think, he merely acts and pulls his blanket off of him. Next your blanket. He opens it and slides his arm under it. He takes you softly in his hand and presses you against him at the same time as his body sinks under your blanket. He trembles. It is so warm under your covers and from what he can feel, you are wearing one of his sleep shirts. He grabs a bundle of it and twists, needing you to be so much closer than you already are.
“Please”, he begs in a shaky voice, tugging at your shirt.
You sit up far enough that you can take off your shirt. You throw it to the side and fall back down.
“Thank you”, Jungkook whimpers and cradles you against his chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and places his right hand on the back of your head to support it for you.
You wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding in. You have him back. This is how your Jungkook hugs. Thirty three days without him are unbearably long. So long in fact that your skin started to unwillingly forget the warmth and softness of him. It comes rushing back again now that you are hugging without barriers.
“___”, Jungkook croaks and presses you closer, “oh god.”
“I missed you too”, you whisper, burying your hand deep in his hair. You pull him closer. Your breasts squish against his chest, the pressure feels like heaven. It gets easier to breathe and releases you of tension you didn’t even know you possessed. You have your Jungkook back.
Jungkook feels overwhelmed. He ached for your hug ever since he left. Thirty three days without you were hell. You are his constant in his life. When he comes home from work, you are there, hugging him and talking to him and falling asleep with him. When he leaves for work, you are right by his side, talking to him and kissing his cheek as he drops you off at university. When he has free time, he knows he can spend it with you. You are always there. You are his constant. The person who will always be by his side. The warmth he can always return to. So to go without you for more than a month was hell.
“I missed you so much”, he confesses.
“Me too, Bunny. Me too.”
You felt just as lonely without him. Years ago, you wouldn’t have batted an eye at the thought of being along for a month, but Jungkook changed you in the most wonderful of ways. He is your person, the comfort you most look forward to, the home you never want to leave. You have him by your side in the morning and have him back again by the evening. You share the last second of consciousness with him before sleep and share the first right after. And for the last month, you didn’t. You had to live without him and it was agony.
“Closer”, Jungkook begs, “I wanna be closer.”
“Closer?”
“Closer please.”
“Lie down on your side.”
Jungkook obeys, keeping his arms around you. You seek him and slide your hand to his length. You brush your fingers over his tip, eliciting a trembling gasp from him. A small whimper follows.
“This kind of closer?”
“Yes”, he squeaks and grabs whatever he can of your upper back.
“I missed this feeling. You’re so soft.”
“I missed you too. Ah please.”
“Kook…”
“Can I-”
“Yes.”
His left hand naturally dances down your body, trying to locate your clit. You drape your leg around him, giving him access. He connects his fingers with your heat, sending electricity through you.
“Holy fuck, I’m sensitive”, you get out and moan. You take his cock and begin jerking it. He grows hard rapidly. Just as you soak his fingers at a rapid speed. You want him. He wants you. Too long you had to go without each other.
“Me too. Ah mhm”, he gets out and buries two of his fingers inside you.
“Bunny….”
“Mommy…”
You cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his face and stub his nose with your own. Your hands work desperately between your bodies, the tension is growing embarrassingly fast.
“Bunny, I missed you so much”, you keen and squeeze your eyes shut. It feels so good. His long fingers are filling you up while his thumb is rubbing circles on your clit. He is so sloppy and needy in his touch, which makes it all the better.
“Me too, Mommy”, Jungkook gets out and whimpers, “oh god.”
Your hand is fast around his cock. You are calculated on normal days, but not tonight. There is no coordination in how you touch him, just pure and honest desperation.
“I don’t wanna cum like this”, you croak.
“Close?”
“Yeah, it’s fucking stupid. Fuck”, you slide your hand to his hair so you could twist.
Jungkook moans, tilting his head back all on his own while his pouty lips brush against yours. You kiss without really kissing. Just featherlight touches, tickling moans and traces of your tongues. The tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You clench down on his fingers, feeling his cock throb in your hold.
“Bunny, I need your cock.”
“I need your pussy too, Mommy.”
“Good. Take out your fingers.”
Jungkook obeys, touching your hip instead. Neither of you care about the wet mess he leaves on your skin. It’s just another proof that you and he are finally reconnected again.
“Good boy”, you praise and shimmy down just a little so you can take his cock inside. There is no friction, no struggle, no pain. Just warmth and overwhelming pleasure.
“Holy fuck”, you whisper and push him in deeper. Past your entrance. Your warm walls engulf him.
Jungkook grabs you and accidentally scratches you. He couldn’t help it. He is with you again. No one feels like you. No one does.
“Ah!” the sound bounces off the walls. He trembles and pulls you closer, “Mommy.”
“Bunny.”
“Oh god, I’m home”, he whimpers and starts chasing you.
Your leg is still around him, his thrusts go so deep like this. You are so filled up with him, so stuffed. You are eye to eye even if the complete darkness prevents you from seeing each other. But you don’t need light to see each other. Not you and not Jungkook. You have your hands and fingertips to see. You started it back in the stuffy sex club room you met in and perfected it over the years in your loving home. You know exactly how he looks right now and in return he knows as well.
“Bunny, oh god, my Jungkookie”, you get out and shake, pulling him closer by his hair. The darkness makes it feel all the more intense as you claim his lips in a passionate tongue kiss. The sounds of it mix with the desperate rutting your hips are doing. The rustling of the sheets is audible as well, as are the needy moans both of you choke out constantly.
You are hot under the covers. Sweat has formed on the parts where you are pressed together. You pull each other closer regardless, basking in the heat because you had to live without it for far too long. This is the only way to melt with each other.
“I love you”, Jungkook gets out and kisses you again.
“-love- too”, is all you get out between your hungry kisses, but Jungkook knows regardless. Even without words he would know. From your kisses, your embrace and the way your pussy is convulsing around him. Jungkook knows every ridge, every bump, every inch of how you feel inside and being allowed to experience it right now is the only proof of love he needs. He is the man who you allowed to go in raw, even back when you pretended not to care. You claimed him and sealed his sweetest fate. You loved him enough that you wanted to be without barriers and you love him enough that you welcome him home right now.
“You feel so good”, you moan and rut against him before your lips suck on his lower lip needily.
Jungkook whimpers, spilling tears of ecstasy. He fucks into you, feeling his legs shake. He is so high on you.
This is fucking for the sake of reconnecting. This is emotional. Deeply, soul-consumingly emotional. Is it kinky? No. Will either of you last long? No. Will it stay in your minds as one of the most intense nights ever? Yes. Yes it fucking will. This is the kind of desperate, needy, passionate sex you can only have after you have been without each other for a long time. It is dumb. It is raw. It is carnal and it is the only good thing which comes out of having to be without the other. Because no amount of foreplay, kink or fetish will ever get you to the level of starvation than forced distance does.
And you are starving. Oh, you are parched and aching for each other. Jungkook fucks you as hard as he can, while you rut against him as roughly as you can. It results in these deep, fiery thrusts, which fills you with all his cock and in return makes him experience every inch of your pussy.
You are burning up today. You are hot around him, as if you had a fever. Jungkook can barely breathe because of it, gasping for air between his desperate moaning. And you are soaking wet. Soft too. So soft. Jungkook scratches down your back and pulls you closer. His left hand cups your buttock and stills your hips this way. He pushes. The kiss breaks with your needy moan. You roll to your back just enough that Jungkook can prop himself up on his right elbow and use the angle to finally bottom out. Truly bottom out because the position finally gives him a chance to do so. Your leg is still around him, while the other is under his weight. You can feel his sculpted thigh shift and tense as he fucks you. His thrusts are sloppy and so perfectly uncoordinated that they seem coordinated. The mattress shakes because of it.
You barely feel it because he is currently fucking the senses out of you. This is the kind of fuck which reminds you why he managed to steal your heart and the proof of why you could never want to leave him. It genuinely fucks every sense of control out of you and turns you into the neediest, wettest pillow princess in existence. Tonight it impacts you especially deeply, leaving you to arch your back and curl your toes.
“Bunny”, you moan embarrassingly high pitched, throwing your head back as best as possible while Jungkook shows off the strength of his hips, “Bunny, oh god. Ah Bunny.”
“Mommy. So good, ah Mommy”, Jungkook moans and drops his head into the crook of your neck. He pulls you closer until your head rests on his right lower arm and you have his biceps brushing against your nose. The gentle headlock he has you in heals you from aches you didn’t even possess before. You are so safe like this. He smells hot. As if he is burning up.
“Bunny…”
You are burning up yourself, grasping his broad, muscular back as your only connection to sanity. He is making you cum and it’s happening soon.
“Don’t stop, please”, you beg.
“Mommy”, he moans and continues because he won’t ever ignore one of your begs. You don’t beg often, so when you do, Jungkook is overtaken with the need to fulfill your every wish. Which means a lot because he always wants to fulfill your every wish.
“You’re making me cum”, you choke out and sob softly as you hug him against you.
“Holy fuck”, Jungkook gets out and squeezes you strongly as your body falls into the high. You are so tight around him, burning up and throbbing. No wonder you are sobbing. Jungkook has to grit his teeth from how intense your orgasm feels to him and he isn’t even the one experiencing it. And there is one problem right now. He still needs it longer. He doesn’t know if he is holding back because he is greedy for more or if his body is just working this way right now, but he isn’t done even when you are already coming down. He needs more. He wants you longer.
You are soaking his cock, pulsating around him as you slowly recover and it’s fucking messing with him. He needs you. He needs you so bad.
Jungkook uses his strength and rolls you onto your back completely. His cock leaves you for a second, but you barely feel the disconnection as the darkness and your passed high leave you disoriented. Your legs are spread open, giving Jungkook a chance to take his cock and push it inside again.
Now you feel it. Now you’re whole again. You whimper, tensing up around him.
“Not done yet”, he rasps with his hand twisting the pillow next to your head. He bottoms out and chases you instantly. Fast and hard. He fucks the juices out of you, filling the air with the sounds of it just as he fills it with the sinful sounds of his naked body impacting with yours. The bed is sturdy and yet still croaks. His throaty grunts and guttural growls fill your ears as well. You know for a fact that he is frowning right now, gritting his teeth because he always does so when he fucks hard.
“Ju-Ju-Jungkook”, he fucks his name out of you. He is fucking his cock right against the spots which steal your sanity. You can’t stop getting wetter because of it. Every second with him feels fucking orgasmic, “Jungkook! Ah! Jungkook!”
You grip his arm. His muscles are so tense, bulging under your fingers as he drills you like an animal.
“Jun-Ju-Jungkoo-ook.”
“Yeah, keep moaning my name Mommy”, he growls deeply and curses, “fuck, this is…fuck.”
“Jungkook, ah god Jungkook.”
“That’s it, Mommy. That’s it, keep moaning my name”, he encourages you and rewards you with harsher thrusts. Of course this wasn’t his final form yet. Not Jungkook. Not your husband. He will make you believe that the sex couldn’t get any better before showing you not to underestimate him. He fucks you deep into the mattress just as he fucks you deep into a blurred state of ecstasy.
You are utterly and entirely his right now. And you fucking like it, moaning his name as he rewrites your definition of pleasure one harsh thrust at a time.
“I missed you”, he is using his deep voice to talk, “I thought of you, urgh, of you being mhm being cockstuffed with me, ah mhm I’m going crazy, Mommy. Fuck.”
He could tell you everything right now and you would barely take it in. Your brain doesn’t work. You are so dumb right now. So utterly stupid. If you weren’t on your back, you would have drooled. Instead you sob his name and writhe desperately.
“Fuck”, Jungkook spits and growls. His hips stutter for only a second. This is how long he needs to find his composure again and then he is already drilling you again, pushing your body closer and closer to your orgasms, “have to go again?”
“Ye-yeah”, you keen, arching your back.
“Let go Mommy, I’m right here”, he tells you and cradles your cheek.
The touch is all that was missing. You break apart with a loud moan of his name and your fingers desperately twisting his hair. He fucked it out of you from the deepest parts of you, which makes it all the more intense. You can’t even moan as it happens. His name was all you managed to produce before your voice gave up on you. You can’t breathe either, lying there with your lips parted and your back arched as Jungkook drags heaven out of you.
Your second high gives him a hard time. The needy fucking he did brought him to the point where he has to let go even if he wanted to hold back longer. His cock aches, his balls feel tight and the tension in his stomach has reached a painful level. While your lungs aren’t working right now, his’ are working overtime, producing the neediest, quickest pants for air. He takes a deep breath and exhales it through his mouth, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.
“I’m gonna cum inside”, he moans in a pitched voice. His hips stutter, but don’t lose speed, “gonna creampie your pussy so hard. Holy fuck, Mommy.”
You wrap your legs around him, closing your arms around him as well while your left hand buries itself deep in his hair and your right grabs his tense ass. You are barely present yet, but the need to feel him paint your walls gives you enough strength to pull him close.
“I love you”, he chokes out and lets go. He isn’t silent like you were. He is loud. Oh so loud that after a few seconds he needs to muffle himself by sucking on your neck.
“I love you too”, you whimper, “my loving counterpart.”
“Oh”, he sobs and pulls you closer, “my soulmate”, he squeaks and tenses up again, “no-not done. Ah!”
“Let it all out, fill me up Bunny. Please don’t hold back.”
Jungkook paints you white until it drips out of you and his body’s strength forsakes him. The comedown is intense. Because Jungkook never stopped fucking you even after your high stopped, you never got to calm down and because Jungkook fucked himself to the point of ruin he feels just as needing for your embrace.
“Are you okay?” he whimpers.
“Yeah. You?” you get out.
“Yeah.”
He shivers and twitches on top of you, blanketing you in under his body weight and the real covers. They slipped off his back in the rough fucking so that now, they are only covering your lower bodies. You don’t feel cold because you have him keeping you warm.
Neither you nor him can talk for the first few minutes, sharing forced silence as your brains try to relearn how to speak. His ears are ringing, you can feel your pulse in your head. You are both sweaty, the heat grows in your bodies now that you are so melted together. His cock softens slowly, still filling you up and keeping most of his seed inside. Good. You don’t want him to leave yet.
You finally have him back after more than a month and you would be a fool to break the connection sooner than necessary. You know that sooner or later you will have to stop this. Not only because of your important post-sex pee, but also because Jungkook can’t fall asleep like this.
At least this is what you believe. Jungkook is in the midst of drifting off to sleep. Jetlag, stress and exhaustion are finally catching up with him. Now that his mind is cleared of that initial dulling desire for you, it is finally truly sinking in that he is back home. And being back home means comfort and sleep. Still being inside and having you cockwarm him while your fingers are drawing hearts on his back forces even more sleepiness to the surface. He is home. Sleep can finally come.
“Bunny?” you whisper, scratching up his back gently. Goosebumps follow your touch. He shudders as you drag shivers out of him.
“Hm”, the sound barely wants to leave him. It tickles your neck.
“Are you falling asleep?”
He nods his head slowly.
“Don’t”, you chuckle softly, shaking him by his back gently, “the post sex pee.”
“I’m tired”, he breathes and sighs, “so tired. Work…hell.”
“I know, Bunnybaby I know. But spending your break from it having an UTI is gonna suck.”
“Not yet. Please.”
You give up fighting him, exhaling deeply through your nose. He sounds so needing of what you currently have. You need it as well.
“Fine”, you say and fish for the blanket to pull it over your bodies, “a few more minutes.”
You hug him against you, cradling the back of his head. Jungkook sighs and relaxes on top of you.
“I fucking missed you, Kook.”
“I missed you too.”
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꒰ : 🌸 [ Second Times ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
Summary : Eunhee was by now over three years old and a little darling, so how would San react to a little suprise?
Pairing : Dad! San x Mom! Fem! Pregnant! Reader
Word count : 3.4K Words
Genre : Fluff, Angst if you squint
Warnings ➵ Reader is a bit nervous of Sans
reaction, but Ateez helps her
a/n : Decided to write this as a little warm up right now to continue Barista! Yunho and the Pirate Story!💜
┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡
Clutching the small pen-like test in your hand, the two lines smiling brightly back at you. It's just been over a month since Eunhees third birthday and here you're sitting on the edge of the tube, holding the test in your hands. Tears rimmed your eyes. Were they from sadness? Not really, maybe a tinge of anxiety of Sans's reaction to a second pregnancy, but they were more like tears of happiness. San never mentioned any aversion to a second child, so you were happy about this.
Your hand softly rubbing over your stomach now, it's probably barely been a few weeks, but knowing you're carrying a child of San yet again, makes you feel nothing but warmth and happiness. Taking the test, you quickly rush into the bedroom, hiding the test somewhere in your things, so well that San nor Eunhee would ever find it, before joining your two favorite people in the living room again. San was lying on the floor, legs straight up into the air as he balanced Eunhee on his feet playing airplane. Her little giggles sound through the whole room and make you smile before she looks up and screeches upon seeing you. "Mommy!" Being let down carefully, she quickly runs over to you, hugging your legs tightly as she grins up to you.
"Having fun?" You ruffle her dark hair softly, bending down to pick her up and hold her on your hip, she has grown a lot recently. "Yeah! Daddy said we'll visit the uncles this weekend for dinner!" Her tiny arms are around your neck now to hold on for support as she tells you smiling. "Oh really? Then we'll have to make you look extra pretty hm? Want all of them swoon over how cute you are!" Softly poking her tummy now as she lets out giggles while kicking her feet now. Setting her down now she rushes over to San again who is sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching the endearing moment now.
"Are you two fine? I wanted to go out for a bit and get some chores done." Walking over to them, you crouch down placing a soft kiss on both of their cheeks. "Daddy got it all handled no worries!" San told you, he really was an amazing dad, he loved his little girl so much. After saying goodbye to them, you grab your purse and leave the apartment smiling with a plan.
The first stop is the printer shop, which takes on orders for personalized clothes. Entering you take a quick look around, before spotting the old man working there. "Good day!" You greet him, making him notice you and greet you back. "I need seven Shirts for man and one for a toddler, the big ones should have something along the lines of 'We'll be uncles again soon' and the little one 'I'll be a big sister soon'" You explain to the man, his eyes light up upon hearing your instructions, congratulating you. He said it would be done in around three days which was perfect timing, just done before the dinner with everyone.
Leaving the shop with a thank you, you make your way to the grocery store to cover up that your chores at hand were to get a few items there in case San asked you what you did.
Coming back home your eyes immediately catch San lying on the couch sleeping, with Eunhee on his chest also fast asleep. Putting the groceries you got away, before walking over to your little family, watching them for a few seconds. It was exciting how soon you'd be a little family of four.. five. Looking down at the cat moving around your feet now, slowly patting Byeols head. Scoping Eunhee up into your arms now, you softly wake up San. "Baby, let's go to bed, you got a schedule and need to sleep in a proper bed." After making sure San would go to bed, you bring Eunhee to her room. She just recently got it done, everyone of Ateez helped along, some put together the furniture, and others painted the walls. It was adorable how dear your little daughter was to everyone.
Laying her down now, you put the blanket over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Turning on her bed light now, before leaving the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Walking into your shared bedroom now, San was lying on his side waiting for you, typing away on his phone mindlessly. "She's sound asleep, I still left the door a bit open in case she has a nightmare again. I'm a bit worried she's been having them more often lately." You talk to him while getting changed, before laying down beside him, resting your head on his chest. "Don't worry it's normal, her brain is starting to understand and notice more things, it's normal for her to process more in her dreams and therefore get a few more nightmares, it'll settle down again baby." His hand was running through your hair mindlessly now, pressing a kiss to your temple, before closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep.
The next few days went by quickly, Eunhee though was getting a bit more restless, even sleeping in your and Sans's bed the last two nights. Waking up this Friday now you look down at her, noticing how there is a sheen layer of sweat on her forehead and her cheeks are pink. Laying your hand on her forehead now, she was burning up, oh my poor baby you thought. Getting up quietly, San was already gone for work. You quickly get a pair of new clothes, before making her a quick breakfast so she can take some fever medicine, taking along a bottle of water for her. Just as you were picking everything up, your poor baby started crying and calling for you. Rushing into the room, you place everything on the nightstand now before scoping her up in your arms, softly swaying her side to side a bit as her tiny body clutches herself to you.
"It's okay baby, mommy is here, mommy just got you some things that will make you feel better again soon.." Whispering soft words as her cries didn't seem to stop. Probably from feeling unwell and waking up alone. You wish San was here right now, speaking of the devil as your phone starts ringing, picking up and hold it to your ear. "Hello baby.." You greet him, still hushing your daughter as she slowly starts to calm down. "Is Eunhee crying? Is everything okay? Should I come home?" Worry seeped from his voice upon hearing his little princess cry so harshly. "No don't, I got this. She's running a little fever so I don't think she'll be able to come along tomorrow, I'll give her some medicine now and then rest with her." You explain to them, hearing Wooyoung cooe sadly in the background, you were probably on speaker right now. "Okay, if you need anything or need me to come home call me, I'll make it work!" He assures you before ending the call, Eunhees cries quieted down now.
"Let's get something in your tummy so you can take your medicine hm?" You helped her sit on the bed, before helping her eat, but she still insisted that she could eat alone. Giving the medicine to her now, you were glad she never put up a fight when it came to this, before handing her, her water bottle. "You'll feel better soon baby, just rest, do you want something from your room?" Patting her head softly she shakes her head and only points to the TV in your room. Turning it on, she immediately points to one of the new Wanteez episodes that recently came out making you smile turning it on for her. Byeol has settled down on her lap by now, as Eunhee munches on the fruits you brought her.
"Mommy will be in the kitchen yeah? I'll make some soup for you for later." She simply nods, too engrossed in the show watching her dad and uncles be silly. Standing up now, you get changed into some home attire before moving to the kitchen, writing one of your close friends to please pick up your order from the shop, as you won't be able to do it today with Eunhee having a fever. Getting started on the soup now, before moving on the cleaning a bit, checking up on Eunhee every now and then, she at some point falling asleep cuddling Byeol, before waking up again hungry and then continuing to watch the show.
At some point at noon, your friend brought your order, asking what it was as the old man didn't tell her, telling her she'd know soon and that it was a secret for now, before handing her a little thank you for helping you out. Hiding the bag now as San would soon be home and you didn't wanna spoil the surprise.
"Welcome home darling!" You shout from the bedroom, sitting beside Eunhee now as you two watch a Barbie movie, her eyes immediately moving to the opening door. "Daddy! You're home!" Moving to get up, she stumbles a bit before running up to her dad who picks her up, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "How is my baby doing hm? Feeling better?" She nodded, even though she was still feeling unwell, the fever down a little bit due to the medicine. "How about you and Daddy spend an amazing day tomorrow hm? I'll get those amazing little cakes for you from across the street." Sitting down with her on his lap, he leans against the headboard, the movie long forgotten as she nods. "Don't you wanna go to the dinner tomorrow?" Your eyes but his now as he shakes his head. "You took care of her the whole day, the first day is always the worst for a fever, I'll take over tomorrow and you go to the dinner, the boys will still be happy to see you," San explains making you nod and agree, this was actually perfect, that way you could give the boys their little presents first before planning to tell San.
So the next day came, you got ready for the dinner, before grabbing your purse and the bag with the shirts, saying goodbye to them before leaving for the restaurant.
"Y/N! We're here!" You hear Wooyoungs voice call out to you from one of the private rooms in the back, making you smile as you join them. "Hello everyone!" You greet the seven men, making them smile at you as you take a seat beside Jongho and Wooyoung. "How is Eunhee doing? San mentioned she had a fever? Poor thing.." Seonghwa asks you making you nod, telling them she was doing a bit better right now and how she was probably enjoying those little cakes right now San got them while you were still at home so Eunhee wouldn't be left unsupervised.
"So actually I'm rather glad San stayed at home today, that way I can give you guys this." Standing up now, you place the bag on the table before handing out the neatly wrapped shirts. Mingi and Yunho first as they had the biggest size, before continuing, instructing them to wait with opening till everyone had theirs. "Okay! I hope you guys will like this.. You can open now." Some were neatly opening the package like Seonghwa, while others ripped them open like Mingi and Wooyoung. Watching each boy look at the writing on the shirt now, mostly with big eyes, before Wooyoung springs up. "I'LL BE AN UNCLE AGAIN?!" His eyes were full of tears as he looked at you, nodding softly before being pulled into a tight hug. "Congrats dear, if you need any help from us tell us." Seonghwa was the next to speak up, hugging you tightly. Before Mingi approached you, being visibly excited about the news, softly jumping a little bit before hugging you tightly and even lifting you up slightly, making Jongho scream at him to be careful with you two. This made tears prick your eyes. "Jongho.." You softly whimper, laying your arms around the man, who seems to be unsure if he wants to accept but has no real choice, in the end, he places his arms around you carefully. Everyone else told you their congratulations and hugged you.
"So the plan is, I'd like all of you to wear these next Monday, I'll come around with Eunhee, she has her own shirt, before San arrives and that's how I want him to find out!" Everyone cheers now, liking the idea, looking over to Hongjoong now for his approval. "I like that idea, let's do it." He nods now, you were glad he was so supportive. The first time he was rather unsure of the pregnancy, of how the fans and society would react, but the moment he held Eunhee for the first time it was all over, he was absolutely smitten for the little girl like everyone else of them was.
"Do you hope for a boy or girl?" Yunho speaks up now looking over at you. "Honestly I don't care, I'd love him or her unconditionally either way." You smile softly, your hand rubbing over your still flat tummy, knowing fully well it will be bigger in a few months. The boys nod as they agreed, before the orders finally arrived, enjoying a nice meal with them, laughing and joking around.
It was a nice evening, the boys were talking a lot about how excited they were for the new baby, arguing over who would be the baby's favorite, as Eunhee's favorite uncles were by far Mingi and Yunho since her birth.
The evening soon ended, and they promised to keep quiet till the big reveal as you packed everything together and made your way home, hoping San was fine and that Eunhee was doing a bit better slowly. At home you peek inside the apartment, noticing the TV playing as you take your shoes off and make your way into the living room. "Baby, did daddy fall asleep?" You giggle quietly upon seeing Eunhee sit beside San and watch another Wanteez episode, Sans's arm around her as he was sleeping tightly. The little princess looks up as she hears your voice and nods to your question, as you crouch down in front of her. She probably wasn't tired yet from napping through the whole day, softly feeling her forehead now and sighing relieved feeling her fever down finally.
"Let's get you to bed hm? Did you have fun with Daddy today?" You pick her up, San waking up from the movement, blinking softly as he sits up and watches you carry Eunhee to her room, he luckily had changed her into her sleepwear already in case she was to fall asleep while watching the show. "Mhm.. Daddy showed me the new episode with the uncles.." Getting sleepy slowly, Eunhee rests her head on your shoulder as her arms hang loosely around your neck. "Oh wow, that must have been so exciting, we can watch more of that tomorrow. Let's sleep for now baby." Pressing a kiss to her forehead now as you enter her room, sitting down on her bed and laying her down, before pulling the blanket over her.
Leaving her room after taking one last look at her and joining San in the bedroom, watching him fight to stay awake waiting for you. "Sannie sleep if you're tired." Shaking his head, he mumbles a little tiredly watching you change out of your clothes and into one of his shirts to sleep, before laying down beside him. Opening your arms, he immediately scoots over, his arms wrapping around your waist as his head comes to rest on your chest, softly running your hands through his locks. He had recently dyed them red again, it suited him well.
Sunday went by rather quickly, Eunhee was better again, playing around with San and Byeol, helping you cook, and watching another Ateez show again.
So Monday came around, you got up quite early and got ready, making sure you packed Eunhees shirt and the pregnancy test, San looking at you confused still half asleep as you finished getting ready. "I'll visit Lotte World with Eunhee today, I promised her." Pressing a soft kiss to your husband's temple as he nods, a little bit sad he can't join due to work before you leave the room getting Eunhee ready now.
"Where are we going?" Eunhee looked at you curiously, her tiny arms holding onto your neck, her tiny legs kicking a little bit as you walked along the sidewalk in the direction of KQ. "We'll visit the uncles and prepare a little surprise for Daddy." Her eyes light up upon hearing that there will be a surprise for her daddy.. or because she'll see her uncles. Entering the elevator you press the floor of the practice room and let Eunhee stand on her own now, taking her hand as you lead her to the dance practice room. "Yuyu!!" Eunhees high voice screeches upon seeing the tall man, everyone turning to the two of you as Eunhee runs up to Yunho who immediately picks her up. "Hello little princess!" Yunho beams at her, he was always so sweet to her, often being the one to offer to watch her for a weekend or evening when you and San wanted to spend some romantic time.
"Eunhee darling come here for a second." Yunho sets her down again as you sit down on the floor, softly taking her hands when she reaches you. "What do you think about being a big sister hm? Would you like that?" She thinks for a second, looking at you nodding slowly. "If I stay Uncle Yuyu and Uncle Min's favorite!" She answers, making everyone laugh and Mingi cooe at her answer. "You'll always stay my favorite baby!" Mingi calls over, making you smile. "But yes.. I'd like to be a big sister!" She beams at you, making tears rim your eyes as you pull her into a hug, she has grown so much. "You'll soon be a big sis baby." You tell her, making her giggle and smile. Soon she was wearing her personalized shirt along with all of her uncles, Yunho holding the little girl in his arms right now.
"Okay, San should be here soon! I'll wait for him outside and then bring him inside!" Rushing outside the room, you close the door, looking around for your husband. After around ten minutes he finally arrived, looking at you confused. "Darling? I thought you and Eunhee were at Lotte? Where is she? Is she okay?" He looks around for his little princess worried now. "She is with the boys right now, you have to put this on though!" Holding up the blindfold now, he grows even more confused but lets you put it over his eyes. "I'm a bit scared, but I'll trust you." He tells you, taking your hand softly as you lead him into the room.
Taking one last deep breath, before taking off Sans's blindfold. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to get used to the lights, as he now looks at his fellow members and little princess, at first not noticing the shirts, but after ready them a few times his eyes grow wide as he now looks over to you, who was now holding the positive pregnancy test. "This isn't a joke, right? Are we getting another child? You're pregnant again?" His bag lying on the floor now as he looks at you with tears in his eyes and a big smile on his lips. "Yes, I wanted to surprise you." Your own tears in your eyes now, as San pulls you into a tight hug, picking you up and spinning you around laughing. "I'll be a dad again!" He giggles as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you so much." Laying his forehead onto your forehead, before looking down he sees his little girl tug on his pants softly to be picked up. "Who will be the best big sister?! You will be Eunhee!" He smirks at her as he picks her up onto his hip.
Soon everyone joined the hug, San was beaming all over his face. You were glad that he was this happy and excited and how supportive everyone was. This would be a long 8 months again, but you cannot wait to soon hold the new addition to this already big family.
#x reader#imagines#imagine#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez x female reader#ateez x y/n#ateez x you#choi san x y/n#choi san x you#choi san x reader#choi san#san x you#san x reader#san x y/n#san#ateez san#dad san
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Bound by Desire
If they call it sin how come she loves me like a saint? (2)
Dom!Natasha x switch!Wanda x subby!brat!fem!reader
Word Count: 1.2K
Summary: Natasha and Wanda have been in a happy and healthy BDSM relationship for years, but have been looking for a third for Wanda's sake. When they meet you, they might have gotten more than they bargained for.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Nat=39, Wanda=35, Reader=22, BDSM relationship, dom!nat, switch!Wanda, sub!reader, Daddy!nat, Mommy!Wanda, strap use(r receiving), bondage (more will be added as things occur)
Authors Note: My first smut bit in a long time. Felt good to write it again, but I think a lot of this is gonna be more fluffy/hurt/comfort....maybe some angst from here for a bit.
You stared down at all the papers, books, and figures sitting on the counter. The longer you looked the more everything felt like it wasn't making sense anymore. You'd been in the kitchen all morning studying for midterms. Your eyes were starting to hurt as you pushed your palms into your eye sockets.
You barely heard Natasha until she was almost to the kitchen. Turning slightly to look at her. It was Saturday so the redhead was in sweatpants and a tank top yet somehow she still managed to make your core throb as your eyes rake over her biceps.
“Still studying Pchelka?” Her husky voice tickles your ears.
“I don't know if you could call this studying anymore. The more I look the less sense everything is making right now.” As you sink against the chair you hear her saunter over.
Her arms wrap around your shoulders, her chin resting on top of your head. Your cheeks flush as you feel her tits press against your back.
She looks over your work. Pointing out little things, her slender fingers captivating your attention. Her words become distant and yet somehow wrapping you up, putting you in that fuzzy headspace you've started becoming accustomed to.
She moves; her face coming in your peripheral. You feel a little too hazy right now to focus on anything except her fingers.
“Oh puppy, was that all it took today?” Natasha's voice drops making you fall ever so further.
Your hands are already reaching for hers. No resistance is met as you pick her hand up and bring her finger to your mouth. “Please Daddy? Need you…” You mumble around her fingers.
You weren't sure how she did it, but she was carrying you down to the bedroom, you could feel the bulge of Natasha's strap through her sweats and you instinctively rolled your hips.
She sets you onto the floor when you get to the bedroom. The simple command, “Strip.” Being all you needed. Your clothes came off into neat piles. It was a rule of Natasha's that if she ever asked for you to strip it was to be done quickly, but neatly.
When you looked up she was standing in just her boxer briefs, her bulge on display and tits perfectly staring you down.
She reached out, taking your little pile and set them on the dresser. “On the bed puppy.”
You eagerly got up, sitting pretty for her. It hadn't been too long, only a few months you'd been doing this, though it was long enough to know how Natasha wanted you.
She smiled at your eagerness as she made her way to you. Slowly making her way in front of you. Once she's in front of you, you can't help but smile. Eyes still blown like a deer in headlights and you might as well be with Nat.
She cups your cheeks gently, a soft smile on her face as she pulls you in and kisses you. Your hands find her chest as you melt against her.
She pulls back, moving you onto your back as she gets between your legs. You can feel her hot breath on your clit before her warm tongue moves through your folds. Her lips closing around your clit to tease at it.
Your center is completely soaked and glistening in the light of the midday sun coming through the skylights and showing off the slick that's made its way to your thighs. Soft moans and whimpers are falling from your lips. One of your hands tangling in her hair and the other fitting at the silk sheets beneath you.
Natasha moans into you, sending a shiver through you. Your breathing picked up as she wrapped an arm around your waist. She was holding you there as she started to bring you to that edge you wanted to fall over.
You were too focused on her tongue when you felt her push two fingers into you and now you knew the real reason she was holding you there. Her fingers and tongue moved in tandum.
“Fuck…ah…Daddy! Daddy can I cum? Please?” You pleaded with her. Eyes flicking up to meet yours.
“Go on puppy. Cum.” Her husky voice is truly what sent you over the edge. The waves of pleasure wash over you.
Before you could even recover from the first Natasha is pushing her strap past your folds and stretching you out. A loud moan coming out of you as you grip onto her biceps as she puts you in a mating press.
She looks down at you, your eyes completely black from how blown they are. “You needed this so badly didn't you? Just a bitch in heat who needed to be fucked brainless by Daddy?” Her voice was deeper and more husky than even a few moments ago.
“Yes! Yes Daddy! can I cum? M'please Daddy!”
“That's it pup. Go ahead, mmm fuck…go ahead.” You feel apart beneath her. Tightening around her as you gushed over her cock and stomach.
Natasha groans as you feel her release into you, her cum filled strap filling you up. A long satisfied moan coming from you as your back arched. Your eyes closing as she slowly pulls out. She bites her lip admiring her work as she watches you drip for a moment before going to grab a towel to clean you up along with some other aftercare items.
°○°○°○°○°
When Wanda came home the house was quiet. She had called out for both of you, but got no response. She furrowed her brow as she slipped her heels off from the day. Taking notice that all shoes were accounted for.
As she walked further into the house she took notice of all your notes spread across the kitchen island. A small smile spreads across her face at how hard you always work. Though still no sign of you or her wife.
She headed up the stairs after not finding you two anywhere downstairs. Checking both offices first and then heading to the bedroom. That's where she found you two.
You were half on top of Natasha. Leg and arm thrown over her. Your legs tangled together. She had managed to get you both in tank tops. Her back in her boxer briefs and you in your panties.
Wanda smiles down at the two of you, sinking down onto the bed. Natasha being a light sleeper, opened her eyes. Looking over to see her wife made her smile.
“Привет, любовь всей моей жизни.” (Hello love of my life) she whispered as Wanda leaned in for a kiss.
“Вам обоим было весело?” (Did you two have fun?) Wanda whispered against her wife's lips before pulling back, looking down at your sleeping form and pushing some hair out of your face. Making you sturdy slightly, but settle back in.
“She needed a break from studying.” Natasha smiled down at you. “Needed Daddy's help emptying that pretty head of hers.”
Wanda gently ran her fingers through your hair, scratching just behind your ear as a content smile spread across your face in your sleep.
“She's so special Tasha…I don't think she realizes the extent that we actually feel for her.” Wanda's voice was soft as Natasha rubbed her wife's back.
“She will soon, moya lyubov.” The two women smiled at each other before Nat pulled Wanda against her to join in the cuddles.
Slowly the sun fell towards the horizon and sure there was more studying to do, dinner to be made, and documents to look over, but for right now none of you wanted this perfect moment to end.
Taglist:
@godhatesgoodgirls
@itsalwaysskorpioszn
@boredandneedfanfics
@siljuskaz
@noturlondonboy
@tobiaslut
@alexawynters
#ley writes#ley writes series#wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff#dom!natasha romanoff#switch!wanda maximoff#sub!fem!reader#bratty!fem!reader#rich couple!wandanat#wandanat x fem!reader#wandanat x you#wandanat x reader#wandanat x y/n#wandanat#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x fem!reader
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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 3: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAMA! [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]
goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!
ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader
word count: 4462
summary: y/n discovers not only that she went viral on youtube on her birthday and that she's offered a reunion with capital records, but also has to face a possible reunion with seb after having no contact with him for four, almost five, years
warnings: settled on april 2018. curse words, angst, mention to y/n being friends with a certain guy who's a singer and used to be a dyed blond (we'll get to know how they met and also hope you like this cameo!). y/n refusing to have any news of seb. translated german (almost every one calls emily mäuschen, which means little mouse).
taglist: [@saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife ]
a/n: i had to post this, especially today heheh. hope you like this part as much as you seemed to like the others! i'll be waiting for your comments and anons (honestly, daily serotonin), and also remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated <3
© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
2018
April 27th Heppenheim, Germany
If someone had told you a few years ago that your thirtieth birthday would be like any other day, you wouldn't have believed them.
As every morning, you had woken up, although today it wasn’t the light entering through the window that woke you. The voices of Emily and your parents singing "Happy Birthday" in unison were the reason for your abrupt awakening. You forced yourself to hold back tears when you saw your daughter approaching you, with the help of your mother, with a cake in her little hands. Your father was taking the utmost care to ensure the lit candle didn’t go out before you blew it out, and you noticed their pitiful glances falling on you.
You understood. Since you became a mother, you knew what it was like to suffer for a child.
“Happy birthday, Mama!”
After sitting up in bed, you took your daughter in your arms and sat her between your legs. You quickly wiped away the tears and, after clapping a few more times with her, you suggested you both to blow out the yellow candle, your favorite color, together.
Your only wish for that year, as it had been for the previous four, was to finally be able to talk to Seb and explain the real reason why you left in Barcelona almost 5 years ago.
With that thought firmly in your mind, you said goodbye to your parents, who headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You quickly got out of bed, took the clothes you had chosen the night before for Emily and yourself, and dressed her while you told her the sugar-coated version of how you met her father and how happy you were, as you always did almost every time to her since she loved that story. Shortly after you were already dressed, and both of you were heading to the kitchen, where two bowls of cereal were already set on the counter.
“Mommy, what did you wish for?”
The little one's question took you by surprise. If there was something that characterized her and made you think of her father, it was her great curiosity. Not to mention her clearly defined blonde curls and her entire face.
Denying that she was Sebastian's daughter was impossible, and that's how Heike found out she was a grandmother.
“It’s a secret, mäuschen,” you replied, starting to cough immediately, trying not to choke on the spoonful of cereal you had already put in your mouth. “I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”
“But is it something nice?” she insisted.
“Well, I suppose…”
You noticed that your mother was watching you with concern while she dried the freshly washed dishes.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take Emily to Hanna’s house?” she asked, interrupting your daughter's incessant questions. “I know you have to clean the bar thoroughly and it takes you quite some time.”
“No, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I want to take a walk with Emily and buy something for Heike and Norbert. Emily wants to see them today,” you explained.
“Norbert told me the other day that we could go feed the baby ducks at the lake!”
Your former in-laws knew that your daughter was their granddaughter, that she was Sebastian’s daughter, but Emily didn’t know they were her paternal grandparents, and for now, you preferred it to stay that way.
You couldn’t deny that it hurt you, but you knew things could be much worse if the couple hadn’t been so understanding. If Heike had believed that you really cheated on her son when you met two months after you had broken all ties with him and his family...
“I also want to buy them something. You know, it’s what I’ve always done,” your mother nodded with a slight smile, perfectly understanding what you meant.
“Have you thought of anything specific, honey?”
“I know Heike went to the market the other day and saw a pot of tulips that caught her attention,” the flower Seb used to give you whenever he had the chance. “I hope there are still some left.”
“I'm sure there will be. You’ll see how you brighten their day.”
I’m sure, you thought to yourself as you finished breakfast. Once you were done and made sure you were a bit tidied up and had everything you needed, you and Emily said goodbye to your parents with the promise of returning in the evening to have dinner together, although you knew you would end up doing overtime at work.
The little one’s blonde hair, completely loose, was tangled by the wind. Her boots were covered in mud because all she did was jump in puddles without letting go of her right hand from yours, and her left from the handle of the Peppa Pig backpack she carried on her shoulders.
“Mommy, why do I have to stay with Aunt Hanna today? It’s your birthday…”
“I have to work, mäuschen,” you said as calmly as you could, trying not to succumb to her gaze. “We have to help granny and pops buy food, pay the rent…”
“But granny and pops are your parents! They have to take care of you like you take care of me,” she interrupted.
You continued chatting cheerfully during the short walk from your house to the flower shop. While the clerk attended to you, Emily couldn’t stop pointing at all the flowers and giving them made-up names.
A few minutes later, you had already paid and arrived at your best friend’s house, who was already waiting for you at her door, arms crossed until she opened them as your daughter ran towards her.
“How is my favorite person in the world today?”
“I’m very good because today is Mommy’s birthday, Aunt Hanna!” she replied, burying herself in her arms. “Mommy said we can go see Heike and Norbert!”
“I bought them yellow tulips.”
You raised the bag with the pot and shrugged as she gave you a disapproving look.
You knew perfectly well that she was thinking the same as you, and you couldn’t agree more. But how were you supposed to tell Sebastian that he had a four-year-old daughter out of nowhere?
You tried to hold back the tears forming in your eyes when you heard the blonde telling your daughter that cartoons were on TV and that she should go watch them because she needed to talk to you. Fortunately, she didn’t object.
“I’m not going to tell you what you should do because we’ve been like this for almost five years and you’re old enough to make your own decisions, but…”
“I want to tell him, Hanna,” you blurted out, finally revealing what had been on your mind so many times. “I don’t know when or how, but I’m going to tell Seb that she’s his daughter.”
“I was going to ask if you were okay, but I see you’re not.”
Her face was completely serious, and you sweared that if today weren’t your birthday and you weren’t more sensitive than usual, she would have given you one of the biggest scoldings of your life.
“You know today is a difficult day for me,” you confessed what she already knew. You handed her the bag with the pot you had bought for Heike, and she hesitated whether to take it or not. “Would you mind taking this to Heike’s house? Emily is eager to see her, and I… I can’t go. Not today.”
“Y/N…”
Still holding the pot tightly to her chest and her compassionate eyes piercing you, you noticed her hesitation, finally speaking after a few seconds that felt like an eternity.
“Have you seen how the video is coming along?”
Your heart raced just thinking about the video you uploaded to YouTube yesterday, singing Red. You hadn’t checked its performance, and it wasn't your intention. Like every birthday, you had turned off your mobile phone and ensured the next time you turned it on, it would be with Hanna present to delete the email your ex-boyfriend sent you annually at midnight on your birthday.
“I haven’t seen it, and I don’t plan to,” you responded quickly, turning away. Her hand caught your wrist swiftly, forcing you to turn around. “Come on, Hanna, I have to go to work.”
“I want to talk about this, Y/N. You can’t act like nothing happened. You can’t keep avoiding it.”
“I don’t want to know anything about that, Hanna,” you answered aggressively, referring to any birthday wishes from the German. “I don’t want to read things I shouldn’t. Besides, considering he has free practice today, do you really think he wished me a happy birthday?”
“You should read it, Y/N. I know things between you and Seb aren’t what they used to be, but still…”
“No, Hanna, I don’t want to read it today, tomorrow, or ever.”
With those words, you turned away without even saying goodbye and started walking towards the bar where you worked, for once in your life, determined and with your head held high.
As you walked away, your friend’s voice grew louder, insisting on what you had already made clear you didn’t want:
“Y/N, you should read Seb’s damn message! Damn it, it could be important!”
You stopped for a moment, feeling a lump in your throat as Hanna’s unusual yelling and cursing echoed in your ears.
You turned once again, now facing her but much less determined and, to be honest, a bit scared, though that didn’t mean you would back down or change an opinion you constantly changed out of fear of facing the situation and wanting to change it.
“I don’t want to talk about Seb, Hanna! Just do me a favor and take the pot to Heike, please!” you yelled, feeling the anger taking over you.
“Y/N, I understand you’re confused and want to tell Seb. Maybe today is a good opportunity to get in touch again and…”
“Damn it, Hanna, I already told you I don’t want to talk about this!”
Your shouts were out of control. Your voice trembled, and so did the rest of your body. You hated talking about Seb and not knowing how to handle the situation, but you hated even more when Emily saw you like this and felt guilty for everything.
Now, with tears in her eyes, your daughter’s little head peeked timidly through the front door, unable to control herself as you were.
Once again, you had failed her as you had promised you wouldn’t.
“Hanna…” you said to the blonde, now calmer. You pointed to the child with your head, and she turned to look at her subtly. “I don’t want her to think I don’t love her or that all the problems are her fault, so please: don’t mention Sebastian when we’re together and she’s around. I don’t want to feel like an even worse mother than I already do most days.”
“Understood, no problem. I won’t bring him up in front of the little one.”
You prayed it would be that way, not just on the way to the bar, which wasn’t far from Hanna’s house, but also once you were inside and started preparing everything. While sweeping and mopping, you tried to avoid the mobile phone, but it was impossible. It had been resting on the counter, still off, since you arrived, and you tried your best to keep it that way. You had your daughter, your parents, and your best friend by your side; Niall, since you told him what happened with your ex, started sending you a postcard a few days before just in case it didn’t arrive on time. Even your ex-in-laws met with you, if not the day before, the day after.
What you were trying to avoid at all costs was the damn email that Sebastian sent every April 27th, which you wished you could read but didn’t because you knew it would leave you shattered.
You sighed and ended up taking the device, knowing that if you wanted to reveal the truth to the sunshine of your life, today was a good day to do it, as Hanna had told you.
“Mommy! We have a present for you!”
You jumped when you heard your daughter’s shouts. She and Hanna were running and walking, respectively, towards you. The little one was carrying a bag in one hand in which you could see the head of Billy, her favorite stuffed panda.
She didn’t hesitate to hand you the bag, with the teddy bear included, as soon as she got beside you. Hanna also approached you as you focused on your daughter, holding a cake in her hands.
“Don’t say anything,” she started, knowing you would ask why. “It was Heike’s idea, and since she knows how much you like cookie cake…”
“Especially hers,” you replied with a laugh, remembering all the times you and her son asked her to make that cake beyond special occasions. “God, you don’t know how much I appreciate it. Did she like the tulips?”
She nodded, placing the cake on the counter.
“She said they would have been better if you had given them to her. She wants to see you, Y/N,” she added.
“I know.”
“Do you want us to blow out the candles again, Mommy?”
Emily’s interruption and question took you completely by surprise. It was impossible to resist the sparkle in her eyes and her curved lips; it was as if you were denying Seb, not her.
“Of course, darling.”
Despite how mentally bad you felt, you made an effort not to show it. You took your daughter in your arms, and together you approached the cake. Prater started the singing, and Emily and you joined her immediately, swaying from side to side.
You blew out the candles as soon as they started clapping and, for once in your life, you wished to see Seb again, even if just for a moment.
A welcome, a new beginning or a farewell, a definitive goodbye. At this point you really didn't care much about it.
Thinking too much about Sebastian Vettel in the past few weeks had been the real reason you decided to publish Red yesterday. As you had composed it while pregnant with Emily.
Seeing your daughter not only playing on the little stage where you were used to sing almost every night with a couple of toy cars, including her father’s Ferrari Formula 1 car, and her stuffed animal, reminded you of the countless times Seb and you promised each other this life, but together.
“First of all, I don’t want you to panic, but… you have to see this.”
Hanna Prater’s words scared you like they rarely did.
With her phone in hand and without saying a word, she placed it in front of you, revealing the views the YouTube video you uploaded had garnered in just a day.
Your eyes widened at the high number on the screen. A small scream escaped your lips, startling Hanna, who imitated you, and even Emily, who ran towards you with great concern on her face.
“Mommy, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, darling,” you assured her, trying to contain the shock. “Keep playing. Aunt Hanna and I are talking about some things for my birthday party tonight.”
Your answer seemed to calm her. She nodded with a smile and returned to the stage, leaving you alone again.
"Yes, I know, Hanna, I have to improvise a birthday party now. I swear I'll do it as soon as we finish all this," you replied, anticipating her reproach.
Hanna shook her head and buried herself in her phone again. She seemed completely engrossed in it; her fingers were constantly moving across the screen, worrying you about everything she was trying to show you.
Hanna, I need you to tell me if it's Y/N in this link.
I mean, you don't have to tell me because I know it's her. She sounds exactly like Y/N, and she plays the piano, which is a plus because Y/N knows how to play the piano.
God, I feel like a mix of Sherlock and a stalker.
You understand me, so...
Jeez, tell her to answer to the message I've sent her, please.
I just want to know if the song is about us or if I'm just getting my hopes up four years after breaking up.
And, with those words and butterflies invading your stomach, you clicked on the link he attached. There you were, playing the piano while singing a song about the same guy who had not only talked to your best friend but also to you.
"Did Seb send you that message?" you wanted to know, thinking it was really a joke.
She nodded.
"It seems he didn't just send you the annual email, but also a WhatsApp message."
"A message and an email that, by the way, I am not going to read. Neither of them," you assured her.
"He knows you sing Red, and he suspects Red is about him," your friend began to say. "Don't you think there are too many coincidences for you two to, I don't know, talk or something?"
"I have nothing to talk to him about," you replied.
"Emily's existence means nothing to you then?"
It meant everything, but you had mixed feelings about telling Sebastian.
He was going to hate you, that was clear, but you didn't want that hate to end up being directed at Emily because of something that was completely your fault.
"Emily means everything to me, but I can't let Seb know, at least not for now. He has many chances of winning the championship this year finally, and..."
Once again, another excuse to avoid reality and the fear you had of rejection.
"Y/N, I love you so much and you know it, but you can't keep going on like this," Prater stated, raising her voice a little. "His parents know, yours know; I know, and possibly a large majority of people in this town. For God's sake, even Britta knows, and I don't even know how she hasn't told him yet!"
"Britta came..."
"I know perfectly well that Britta came looking for an explanation, just what Seb didn't do and maybe should have done even though you asked for space," she interrupted you, wanting to continue her impromptu speech. "If you want to move forward, you have to face your fear for once. If you won't do it for yourself, at least do it for Emily. She deserves to know her father and not ask me why her little friends in kindergarten have dads and she doesn't."
Her words made you feel like the villain of the story, the one doing everything wrong. You wanted to ignore her advice and, as always, avoid the subject, but you knew she was right.
"I can't, Hanna. I can't turn on the mobile phone. Not today."
"Allow yourself to start your thirties on the right foot. Don't you think it's better to face fear with someone than to go through it alone? You have me here for whatever you need, Y/N, and you know it."
You let out a long sigh. You walked to the bar, took your cell phone in your trembling hands, and turned it on, feeling the anxiety and uncertainty increase as the device slowly lit up.
When you entered the code and unlocked it, notifications started to appear.
You gradually checked the YouTube notifications, seeing the overwhelming number of likes and comments. Hanna, whose head was peeking to try to see something, shushed you when you ignored the YouTube-related emails and moved on to the text messages, caring little about what she thought.
Niall told you that going viral on your birthday was not only the best thing that could happen to you and the best birthday present they could have given you, but also a whimsical sign from fate to do something worthwhile with your music. At the end of the message, the Irishman asked you to call him when you could, as it was important.
You moved on to Sebastian's PR message, completely ignoring the Irishman's nudge and other various birthday greetings. Britta asked how you could post a video, singing, without telling her anything and, much less, singing about her client. She said you were crazy and lucky that Vettel hadn't suspected anything about the song or, fortunately, about mäuschen.
You calmed down a bit, but the tranquility barely lasted. Seb's message was the one at the top of the WhatsApp home page. It was more than obvious that it was the most recent, from just an hour ago. Also, it was the least one you wanted to open.
You looked up at Hanna, seeking confirmation you knew you didn't need, and that she had already given you.
"Open it, Y/N. It's okay."
You had to be alone when you did it. You asked your friend to take care of Emily and wait for a moment, that you'd be back in a few moments.
You went into the bathroom. You positioned yourself in one of the corners and sat on the floor, legs crossed and the phone in your hands, and started having flashbacks of the day you broke up with Seb.
Happy birthday, Y/N.
If you can and, above all, want to, please read the email I sent you.
I know it's you. The girl behind the song that went viral, I mean.
The song is great, but I couldn't expect anything less from you. It's pure art.
Your tears were already falling down your face. You took a deep breath and forced yourself, though it might not have been better in your current situation, to open the message your ex was talking about.
As usual, you had received it at midnight. And, of course, the profile picture was still one of the two of you lying in bed, him kissing you, and you smiling, just as you were now.
Dear sunshine of my life,
Happy birthday. Or better said: happy thirtieth birthday.
I know we haven't heard from each other directly in four years. Maybe you see me on TV from time to time, or maybe not, and the last time I saw you was a few years ago, but that's not the point.
Maybe I wasn't the best boyfriend in the world, nor the best friend. I still wonder what I did to make you leave like that, but I won't blame you, at least not after so much time. I miss you more than I can express, and you don't know what I would give to have the chance to fix things between us.
I can't ask you to forgive me, nor can I force you to come back to me or to have a friendship, cordiality or whatever you want to call it, but I hope we can find the opportunity to forgive each other.
If you're ever ready to talk, or for anything you want, I will always be waiting for you, just as I have done for these past four, almost five, years.
P.S.: My mother always tells me she makes a cookie cake for your birthday, so I hope for your thirtieth she makes a special one and you all enjoy it as you deserve.
Tears blurred your vision as you continued reading Sebastian's words. A wave of emotions, ranging from anger and disappointment to perhaps, confusion, flooded every part of your body.
You began to write that you wanted to talk to him, that what you most desired in this world and what you most regretted was the ultimatum you gave him. That you could meet whenever he wanted to tell him everything that had happened since that day in Barcelona. That Emily is his daughter, that she looks more like him every day, and that you're convinced the moment he meets her, she'll become his favorite person.
After rereading all your words, written in desperation, you stopped.
You couldn't send him that; you couldn't reply, at least not yet. You couldn't give him false hopes, not when the possibility that revealing Emily's existence might affect the championship he so longed for with Ferrari, not just since he joined the team in 2015, but since you both barely knew yourselves.
You decided to delete the message and, instead, phone Horan's number, promising yourself that you would reply to Seb as soon as you hung up. You dried your tears, inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to calm down a bit more, and left the bathroom with much more confidence than when you entered, as you heard the phone ringing.
Emily was still playing, now dancing to some music, while Hanna was speaking too heatedly in your native language with someone. You tried to pay attention to what the blonde was saying, but the Irishman's voice on the phone caught you off guard:
"Next week. London. Joseph Benson being your personal Britta, maybe?"
You didn't understand anything, and the mere mention of Roeske made you shudder. You knew Niall had done it with the best of his intentions, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.
"What?"
"Capital Records, Y/N," Niall affirmed. "They heard Red and, although they don't know who you are or who the girl behind the song is, better said, I want to introduce you to them. Maybe I told them I knew the girl behind that..."
You saw your friend ending the call too quickly just to approach you, visibly desperate. She made some gestures, grabbing your arms to try get your attention.
"Jeez, Hanna, wait," you replied grumpily in German.
"Is Hanna there?" the singer wanted to know. "Say her hi for me, and thanks in advance for taking care of Emily next week!"
"We'll talk about it later, Niall. People are starting to come into the bar."
With that excuse, and without giving him time to finish talking, you hung up. You turned to Hanna, who was still desperate, making you also start to get desperate and worried.
"What happened?" you demanded to know, considering she hadn't said anything yet.
"I just talked to Sebastian and Britta."
Her expression had now become more serious. Your chest started to ache, and your heart began to beat faster.
"And...?"
"Sebastian is coming next week," she said in a low voice so your daughter wouldn't hear. "I know you'll come up with some excuse, and that you also have to talk to Niall about I don't know, but he wants to talk. Seb wants to talk to you... seriously."
#formula 1#f1#sebastian vettel#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula 1 angst#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel x y/n#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel fanfic#sebastian vettel angst#ferrari#sebastian vettel fic#formula 1 imagine#max verstappen x reader#f1 imagine#sebastian vettel f1#sebastian vettel x female reader#sebastian vettel x you#ferrari f1#ferrari seb#goodbyes are bittersweet series
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What matters most /// Azriel X F!Reader
Summary: "i’m not sure if you taking requests but I was wondering if you could write something for Az where he has a whole mate and child/family and the IC doesn’t know bc he was to scared for people to know and therefore putting his little family in danger 😭 kinda just an angsty fluffy fic 🫶🏻"
Warnings: Mentions of injury, angst and fluff
Word Count: 2,4K
Notes: This request was so fun, i love this fic very much. Thanks again for the request anon ❤️❤️
Main Masterlist
Tired eyes roam around, wings almost touching the ground, Azriel’s focus on the other side of Velaris as Rhysand kept talking about the same problems in the Hewn City. He really tried, but the tugs in his chest urged him home. To her.
“We need to go there next week.” Rhysand looked around, his eyes landing on the clearly distracted Shadowsinger. “Everyone must go.” He emphasised, making Azriel internally groan in annoyance.
He wanted to ask for some time off, take his mate and their daughter on a vacation, enjoy their presence and just be with them for as long as he could. Rhys dismissed the meeting and he immediately jumped out of his seat. He wanted to be with her, hold her in his arms and tell her how much he missed her. A month away from his mate and their family was always hard, crushing his spirit and draining his energy until he was by her side again.
Without a proper goodbye and completely ignoring Feyre’s invitation to stay for dinner, Azriel fled, his wings carrying him with the wind. The house on the outskirts of Velaris irradiated life. The faelights surrounding the garden welcomed him home, he happily sighed, pushing the door open and sniffling the air, chicken and herbs filled his senses, a tint of strawberry mixed with chocolate chips.
He smiled as the strawberry scent grew stronger, and a pair of arms wrapped itself on his left leg. He looked down, the toddler, 3 years older than Nyx, moved herself around, the tiny wings slowly whooshing in the air as he scooped her up.
“Mommy! DADDY’S HOME.” Little Selene screamed, and he kissed her cheek.
“How are you, baby? Did you take care of mommy for me?” The little girl nodded excitedly.
“I did, and mommy took good care of me too.” Her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed his face, loudly smacking her lips against his skin.
“I don’t deserve a kiss too?” His beautiful mate appeared in front of him, some hair strands falling from the bun she always wore while she cooked, a dirty apron covered her front and she held a wooden spoon, Azriel never saw a much more beautiful sight in his entire life.
Placing Selene on the floor, he pulled her by the waist, his lips delicately brushing against her warm ones. Bliss was the only word close enough to describe the feeling of being in her embrace, being near them, his two girls, the two people he loved the most in this world.
“How was the mission?” She asked, grabbing his hand and leading the way towards their bedroom. Azriel could see the candles illuminating the bathroom, and the bathtub filled to the brim with water and foam, his favourite soap filled his nostrils. She always had a bath ready for him, a pair of fresh clothes and a warm meal whenever he got home from a mission, he could stay two days away or two years, he would always get home to that.
“Incredibly annoying, I couldn't wait to be done and come home.” He discarded his clothes, her hungry gaze watched his every move, he could hear her swallowing hard at his naked figure. He submerged in the hot water, his muscles relaxing right away, she sat by the tub, a cloth in hand and started to rub his back.
“And I couldn't wait to have you back home.” She rubbed a particularly hard spot on his neck that had him moaning in relief. He rested his head against her thigh, her long fingers stroked in between his hair, massaging his scalp. “Lene has a surprise for you.” She warned and he looked at her.
“What is it?” His wife giggled, and raised an eyebrow, which always indicated that she would keep quiet. He smiled at her, stealing the cloth from her hands and rubbing himself. “Then I'd better hurry up.” She nodded, getting up and heading out of the room.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
“As we trained, baby.” Y/N spoke, the late night breeze was a comfortable relief against the hot summer night. Azriel sat by the porch, Y/N held Lene’s hand and the little girl looked at her mother for reassurance. “You won’t fall, and if you do, daddy and I are here to catch you, always.”
With a confident gleam in her eyes, Selene’s wings moved, forcing her body upwards, little by little she started to float, her little hands slipping out of her mother’s reach. Azriel watched in complete awe as his daughter flew, her little body being carried towards the main gate and back to her mother. A month ago, Selene couldn’t go anywhere without holding their hands.
He got up, clapping and urging her for another lap towards the gate and back to him. Her dark hair moved around in the wind, her flushed cheeks and her proud expression crashed against his chest. She squealed in delight as he held her, spinning her around.
“That was so amazing. My girl is growing up so fast.” He kissed her cheek. “Soon you will be flying faster than your old daddy here.” Selene nodded in agreement.
“I’ll be the fastest Illyrian in the world.” Her mother came up to them, her fingers poking her belly, making Selene squirm and laugh.
“You will, my love. But now it’s time to go to bed, okay?” The little girl looked at her father, her mothers eyes looking at him. She was the perfect mix of them both.
“You heard your mother.” He leaned to whisper in her ear. “We can’t disobey her, or else she’ll ground both of us.” Selene nodded, and they took her inside. Azriel placed her in bed, kissing her forehead and wishing her a goodnight, once again telling her how proud he was of her flight.
“She wanted to train all month.” Y/N said, removing the hair tie and letting her hair fall loose, she removed her clothes and reached for one of his old shirts that reached the middle of her thighs. “I wish I could teach her more.”
Despite being a full born Illyrian, Y/N was born without wings, no one understood how this even happened, but Azriel was glad that she was spared from the wings clipping cruelty that still happened on the camp she was born.
“You do more than enough, tonight just proved it. She’ll carry you when you’re too old to even walk.” She laughed, her beautiful smile plastered across her face.
“So I only get to fly when I'm in diapers?” She rested her head against his chest.
“Okay, okay. I’ll take you flying tomorrow.” He rolled his eyes and she playfully slapped his chest. “You have no idea how much I love you.” He blurted after a minute of silence. “I’ll ask Rhys for some time off.”
“You will?” Her big eyes turned towards him, hope sparked in them. He knew he worked a lot, and she was very patient with him missing important things, but someone could only be patient to a certain point, he knew she would snap soon and he didn’t blame her.
“I will, I promise to you.” She kissed his chest.
“I love you, Az.” He could see the excitement covering her tone even if she tried to hide it, he was going to ask Rhys after the trip to the Court of Nightmares, he was sure that he would understand.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Azriel fixed his leathers, the new syphon in his chest was a shade darker than the others, he had used his main one to make a ring for Y/N and a necklace for Selene, so they would always have an important part of him with them. The remaining of the stone was well guarded in case he needed to make more jewellery for Lene’s future siblings.
“Everyone ready to go?” Rhysand’s voice sounded from somewhere behind him, but before he could muster a response, a piece of paper materialised itself in front of him. At the same time, his chest was flooded by a wave of pure distress and fear. He shifted anxiously, opening the paper.
“Selene got too excited flying and she fell, i think she broke her arm. I’m taking her to the healers hall, please meet me there.” The words sank in his chest, she was eager to fly a longer distance because he had said if she could fly until she reached the tree a few feet away from their house, he would take her flying for a whole day. It was his fault.
He didn’t register the voices calling his name, he just wanted to get to Selene as fast as he could. He was halfway into the threshold, hand on the cold doorknob, ready to leave, when his body suddenly went completely still. He couldn’t move.
“I told you to stay.” Rhysand’s High Lord voice commanded and he growled, turning to him slowly.
“Let me go.” Azriel demanded. Rhys raised an eyebrow, he never had to use his powers on Azriel because he never failed to do his duty.
“Whatever is wrong with you, it's not more important than this trip, i told you everyone must go.” Everyone in the room could see the rage simmering in the Shadowsinger’s gaze, his golden eyes burning holes in Rhysand’s skull.
“I don’t want to fight with you. LET. ME. GO.” His pure will of being with his family pushed Rhysand’s restrainings away, they silently watched as he started to move.
“I already told y..” Rhysand was cut short by the furious laughter of Azriel.
“Nothing is more important than my daughter.” The words left his lips, leaving the whole inner circle astonished, his what? “Let alone that maggot who thinks he’s better than you.” Azriel turned around. “So I'll see you later.” And with that he left.
Azriel kept his little family hidden from everyone, even from the people he trusted the most in the world, cuz he could never forgive himself if something ever happened to them. The thought of having them kidnapped and used as a way to get to him, their bruised bodies and broken spirit always flooded his mind whenever he thought of revealing them to the world. They were his most precious treasure and he would do anything in his power to keep them safe from the people who could harm them.
“We need to go after him.” Feyre said, the distressed expression on his face completely shattered her heart. “And you will apologise, he would never fail his duty if it wasn’t important for him, you should’ve let him go.” She scolded and guilt filled Rhys’s violet eyes. He nodded, the Hewn City could wait, his brother was more important, and apparently his niece’s wellbeing too.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
As the inner circle arrives at the Healers Hall, they spot Madja, she’s talking to a female. The female holds a little winged girl tightly against her chest, the little girl has a cast on her left arm, her little eyes are red with tears, a wet trail down her cheeks and the cutest pout ever. Without needing confirmation, they just know that it’s them.
They slowly approach, Azriel’s eyes meet Rhysand, he’s holding a glass of water and heading back to the female’s side. She’s too focused on Madja to notice the group coming behind them. The little girl notices tho, her eyes looking curiously at them, her features painfully familiar to the male standing by her side. Azriel whispered something to the female as Madja left.
She turned to them, her hand smoothing the girl’s hair. They looked beautiful together, and they wondered if she was his mate. By the way he pulled her close, they could only assume that yes, she was his mate. They could only guess what reason he had to hide them, the family he always wanted, how heavy this secret might’ve been to carry alone.
“What happened to this beautiful girl?” Feyre asked, stepping forward. Selene looked at her parents for reassurance, the two of them nodded slowly.
“Tell what you’ve been up to, Selene.” The female’s soft voice sounded. Feyre almost laughed with the coincidence, certainly Azriel noticed it. Selene the goddess of the Moon and Nyx the goddess of the Night.
“I wanted to fly like daddy, but I fell.” She lifted the cast to them. “Do you want to sign it?” Feyre nodded, despite looking like Azriel, she wasn’t as shy as he was.
“Not now baby.” He said, his eyes locked up in a staring match with Rhys. “Maybe later, when they come over for dinner.” The High Lord nodded, they wouldn't miss this chance of learning about this secret part of his life.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
The house was cosy, in a quiet place, like they always pictured Azriel’s house as. Coloured markers were scattered around the living room table, everyone needed to pick one and sign Selene’s cast in order to access the rest of the house, as she happily demanded. Swirls of shadows, hearts, flowers and names marked her cast, she meticulously examined every single drawing, before happily dragging the three year old boy along with her, towards a pile of toys.
Y/N, as she introduced herself, was moving around the kitchen, different aromas lingered in the air, Elain was immediately by her side, chopping vegetables. Feyre and Mor prepared the table, while Nesta watched over the kids. The females talked, getting to know all they could about Y/N and their family. She happily engaged in the conversation like they were long time friends.
Azriel, Cassian and Rhys sat by the living room, cups filled with liquor. Rhys wanted to apologise, so he cleared his throat, his violet eyes filled with regret. The two males stopped the chat, turning to him.
“I’m so sorry for how I acted. I should’ve assumed that you would never leave if it wasn’t important for you.” The Shadowsinger nodded. “I should’ve never stopped you.”
“And I should've told you, a long time ago.” He answered.
“No, you didn’t have to.” Cassian intervenes.
“He’s right, you had your reasons, I would've done the same for Feyre and Nyx.” Azriel smiled, knowing very well that he would, in fact, do the same if he ever needed to.
“I don’t want to hide them anymore.” He looked over to his mate, talking with his sisters in law, and his daughter, playing with her cousin.
“Then we’ll be glad to be their protectors.” Rhysand spoke. Cassian reached for his and Azriel’s hand.
“As long as we live, they will be safe. All of them. That is a promise.” And their skins prickled, a tattoo forming to seal the bargain made between the three brothers. As long as they lived, their families would always be safe, no harm would ever get to them.
#acotar#azriel shadowsinger#sarahjmaas#moonlightazriel#azriel#shadowsinger#azriel x reader#night court#azriel x y/n#velaris#azriel acotar
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Could you please write Paige x fem x nika smut where they both get jealous over someone flirting with there girl and then it’s like smut please
word count : 1328
warnings : smutt, jealousy, angst, threesome, rushed at the end
summary : team outing and nika grabs paige to the side after seeing you and getting jealous and they plan on how to fuck u n then bam
nika was leaning against the bar as she was studying your every move as you where on the other side of the room as your body was side by side nikas biggest enemy, alleyne, a star player on the mens basketball team for the huskies, his big arm over your shoulder as you guys are giggling and making jokes all night long hes staring down your body
it dosent make it any better that your half naked with a small black skims top on and a leather mini skirt your girlfriend specifically said she didn’t like you wearing their in the first place, she looked for paige who was to busy talking to ice and Aubrey in the other corner so she texted for her to come here, she ignored is so nika triple texted her being inpatient and paige eventually made her way over.
“what do you need nika?” she rolls her eyes at the blonde “i dont know what you have been doing all night to not even notice alleyne trying to fuck our girl in plain sight.” paige looks around for a second trying to figure out what she was talking about but then she finds you, over there with the man whos leaning all over you.
“nika why dont we take her home” as the blonde says she looks over to the brunette with a side eye and smirk nika immediately understands what she means, nika makes her way over to you and grabs your by the arm pulling you away from alleyne before he or you can say anything.
“we dont want to hear anything from you until we get home understand?” she leads you out the club as paige notifys everybody that you guys are leaving and she rushes you into the back seat of the bentley as she sits in the passenger seat waiting for paige to start driving.
before you can even close the door fully nikas pulling your heels and clothes off and paige is making her way to suck your right nipple and her left hand going to grasp the other as she leads you to the bed.
it was obvious paige was the soft and sweet one where nika was the opposite, when she was angry it would last all day where she would punish you to no end.
paige lays you down on the bed peppering kisses down your stomach making her way to your lower stomach “you looked so gorgeous in your tight outfit, its a shame you didnt put it to good use, made mommy really sad with that one baby.”
you didnt care you just wanted her to make you feel good before nika would put you through the endless overstimulation “im sorry baby please, please make me feel s’good” you can feel her smirk on your lower stomach as her kisses get harsher against your soft skin, as she ends up deciding to give into your pleading she kisses your inner thighs making her way up to your sensitive cunt as she presses sweet soft kisses before licking a long stripe between your folds earning a sweet soft moan from your in applause,
she holds your legs open as she pushes her face closer to your dripping core if that was even possible, she goes fast enough to push you close enough to release but before you could your met with a loud popping noise of paige pulling away and the door opening to nika undressed with a red angry face as she pushes paiges head away from your cunt making her way to the edge of the bed next to you
“trying to get sympathy from paigey huh? i dont think brats deserve any of the attention your even getting right now” you pout as you hear the words leave her mouth not even knowing what you did to make the girl angry with you but it wasn’t anything you have seen before, she would never come to you angry like this she would always calm herself down before making her way to you but not this time. she brought her hand down to you before rubbing your clit in painfully slow circles teasing your entrance,
“paige would you be a dear and go get to strap out of the dresser please?” paige smiles as she makes her way over as nika directs her attention back to you before placing a hard slap on your cunt before grabbing the strap from paige as she puts it on. paige takes nikas spot massaging your breast as she kisses your neck and you know there will be hickeys already formed tomorrow.
nika places herself in between your legs telling you to hold your legs up as she places the strap at your entrance pushing in before a warning not letting you adjust causing you to arch your back of the bed only for it to be pushed back down by paige as she whispers in your ear “you know how to take it don’t act new to this”
you whine as you feel nika all the way your stomach as you look down seeing your stomach bulges from the strap receiving the first smile you’ve got from the brunette all night.
her thumb rubs your clit as she keeps her painful pace with the strap as you feel a knot forming in your stomach getting so close to releasing, and she can tell cause your body movements and moans get sloppier “you wanna cum baby? you think your deserve it after flirting with alleyne all night, you think he could ever make you feel this good?” so thats what it was, she was jealous.
“he could never make me feel as good as you mommy m’so big, just please make me cum ill be so good for you” and that was a promise because before you knew it she pushed you over the edge as there was cum dripping out of your pussy and off the strap,
before you could get any rest nika takes of the strap and your flipped onto your stomach as paiges bare pussy is laying under your face and nikas cunt is right under yours grinding against you. you lick soft kitten licks down paiges folds earning a sweet moan from her but quickly getting distracted from the harsh smacks on your ass as nika grinds against you pleasuring herself.
“so cute when your flustered princess” the blonde speaks in between moans, you let out a cry as nikas friction between your pussys only make you grow closer and closer to your release.
“thats it baby keep eating her pussy, just like that sweet girl” nika coo’s as paiges grip on your hair pulls into a makeshift ponytail “yes s’good”
paige whines as her voice cracks “s’close” she begs again as nika urges you to go faster, which you follow but the blonde doesn’t last 5 more seconds as she cums all over your mouth and jaw and her cum is still on your face as your press more kisses as you whine to the girl on your bottom half
“nika please im so close” but the girl just replies in a grunt “i know pretty girl, hold it a little longer” you dont think you can wait any longer but you knew if you didn’t it would be way worse for you.
“you ready mama? cum with me” you didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence as you cum on the girl under you as you drop your body onto her resting your face on paiges fucked out pussy in the position in between to 2 girls. before long paiges pulls you on top of her with your head now resting in the crook of her neck as nika lays next to the 2 of you holding her arm against your guys waist. “you gonna ignore us at the bar again?” “no ma’ams”
#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige buckets#lesbian#lgbtq#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers smut#paige x reader#paige bueckers masterlist#nika muhl please eat me out 🙏#nika mühl smut#nika mühl fanfic#nika mühl#nika muhl#sun god nika#nika my wife fr
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 4
summary ;; A father protects, that's what gives him meaning. Jake Sully has failed. PART 3 | PART 5 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; PLEASE READ AUTHOR NOTES. I explicitly said in the previous chapter I would NO LONGER BE TAKING TAG REQUESTS. You're just going to have to check my profile every now and then. I also will not be re-tagging the peeps I did in the last chapter’s replies, it’s just a lot 😭 I'm sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your understanding! Now I present you, the long awaited angst and groveling of Jake. Enjoy! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any. Thank you so much for the lovely comments and support, I hope the angst hits the way you wanted it / was expecting HHHHH
It’ll shine better, Jake mused to himself, rotating the lumpy amber around in his fingers to better reflect the sunlight streaming in thin rays from the hands of the dense flora above, once I dip this in that polish oil. It’s not entirely unsalvageable.
At least he hadn’t scraped too much in attempts to give it a rounder shape, the bug at its core you were gushing about to the point of waking him up at zero dark thirty was still intact. He had been summoned from his dreams to look at a cool rock.
Jake couldn’t not gift it to you as something to be permanently worn after that.
The problem? He was ass at this. Always had been. No drop of craftsmanship in his bloodstream at all when the Na’vi were particularly fond of their ornaments and accessories, making it themselves, in fact.
Songcords were put together from beads, bones and stones, virtuosity was a must intrinsically woven into everyday life, methodized and irreplaceable since it wasn’t as if mass production could ever be a thing in Pandora. Everything was handmade.
Jake’s worst enemy beadwork was in their clothing, for example, even in braids — his maladroit at it may or may not be why he wore his hair in plain dreads now.
He wasn’t an artist or a creator, his hands were more comfortable being fit around a gun or a knife than slipping effortlessly in the rhythm of weaving or the act of making. All his end results were dreadful enough to be bullied relentlessly by his kids — except for you, that is. You absolutely loved them for reasons your mother or none of your siblings could understand.
Jake’s blundering conscience would melt at the sight of your eyes shining and the biggest smile almost splitting your head in half as if he had just handed you the world every single time he gifted you the newest of his clunky handiwork. He didn’t know why that made you the happiest. You’d been that way ever since you saw him carving and personally adding a bead to his songcord about how he got his firstborn daughter to utter her first word: dada.
It was important to him, so, down it had gone into Jake’s life story; putting official significance to the moment he never wanted to forget in the same thread that carried the story of him becoming Toruk Makto, just beside Neteyam’s first word, which was also dadada. (Neytiri had Lo’ak’s mam, and Kiri’s perfectly articulated mommy.)
Ever since that day, you had made grabby hands at the bead all the time when he picked you up, teethed at it like a puppy trying to grab a toy, tried to rip it off to make it yours — anything, until Neytiri made you one, but no, you wanted it from dada.
So dada started making you little trinkets.
He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing you never grew out of receiving gifts from your dad he himself cringed at. Jake wasn’t one to complain, not when someone in this life would feel such enough joy to purify thousands of blighted souls upon receiving his ugly personal work. It made him happy, stroked his ego to high heavens that his sweetheart was doting on dada to see the imperfect as the most fascinating.
That’s why he had taken on the daunting task of making a bead for you out of the amber you’d fixated on, rasp in one hand, sitting on a thick log that cut into the little stream he and his family were spending leisurely time that day, one leg pulled to himself and one feet in the water up to his ankle. Even though he had half an ear on his four children playing around in the shallow water of the creek, all the screams and squeals of joy felt weak compared to the contained huff of amusement that escaped from his mate who had come up to Jake while he was way too engrossed in his task.
His eyes shifted to Neytiri, watching her hop on to the log in one agile move. “Don’t laugh.”
“I am not laughing,” Neytiri said, crouching to sit, her mouth twitched upwards as she looked at the amber in his hand.
“I have eyes, Neytiri, I literally see you laughing.” His face used to burn at her openly teasing about beadmaking, but his oldest daughter’s attentions had restored his bruised confidence over the years. The slander wasn’t taken lightly these days as Jake had proudly relabeled the odd shapes of his work as a creative choice. “Right to my face.”
“You’re mistaken.”
Jake made his jaw drop, overacting his bafflement. “Wow, gaslighting? Really?”
Neytiri hit his arm lightly. In her terms, it was light, at least. “I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s something you shouldn’t do to your mate.” He turned his back to her, giving a look over his shoulder. “You’re abusing me. I’m being abused.”
“Baby.”
“No amount of pet names are gonna fix my broken heart.”
“No. You are a baby. I’m insulting you.” Neytiri hadn’t even laughed, but the uplifted timbre of that sentence sure did make Jake snicker in disbelief. “If you can’t take it, maybe you should leave beading to me.”
“I would say they are fashionably off,” he defended. You carried them with delight, so why shouldn’t Jake take more pride in his work? “And you said practice makes perfect years ago, I remember the exact words—”
“Years ago. You still haven’t gotten any better at it.” Neytiri was his biggest supporter and criticizer at the same time. “And you became a part of the clan back in the day in three months Jake. Never a more unbelievable thing to me than this.”
“I’m trying alright?” He turned back to the bead, or, vaguely bead-shaped amber, if technical terms were involved. It still had a whole adventure to embark on until it could receive the noble title of a bead. “She likes what I make, at least.”
“It’s because she’s your daughter and anything you do is out of this world. Beauty in the most unlikely places. A child’s love is pure that way.” The unexpected hypnotism of poetry in that sentence alone pulled Jake’s gaze to Neytiri’s, and for a moment, he could physically feel his heart within his ribcage being squeezed, tethering on painful, but with a joyful tinge. “She doesn’t have standards yet.”
Well, that hurt. “Damn.”
“Damm!” A pair of small and branch-thin arms wrapped around his neck from behind, and something, or rather, someone, latched onto his back. “Rahh!”
Jake should have been suspicious of how silent it had gotten halfway into his talk with Neytiri. Turns out, you had swam underneath the log to get out of his line of sight, climbing with the stealth of a bug to come up undetected.
Well, mark Jake down as impressed, you weren’t able to do that without being spotted until today, this was another wonderful milestone for you — you had learned impressively, taking advantage of his distraction, avoiding making noise and using water to your advantage. Neytiri must have given you some pointers.
And now he was wondering if his mate was in on this all along, purposefully disturbing his peace so their kids could see an opening to pounce on him.
“Oof!” Your hold on him was something he could break out of any minute with how adorably strong you were exerting yourself to make it, but he wanted to play along more than anything. Jake was acting panicked, swinging his body left and right from the waist, but really, it was just a light warm-up exercise with the easiest deadlift possible. “I’m being ambushed!”
“I got you now, Toruk Makto!” You wrapped your legs around his torso, and he felt like this was just a piggyback ride with extra steps. “Watch this, mom!”
Oh, it’s on.
Discreetly handing Neytiri the amber, Jake stood up, bringing you up with him and fighting a smile at your clipped squeak as the height became too much too quick, causing you to cling onto him stronger. He reached behind, and within seconds, he had you in his hands, holding you from the armpits and dangling you above the stream, your kicking legs beating the air, and he cackled like a villain threatening to fling the hero from atop of a skyscraper.
“You got me? Please.” He loosened his grip the slightest amount to give you the illusion he would let go, and you stopped struggling to scream, catching his forearms. “A measly thing like you? Conquering me? I’ll show you why I’m the king of the skies! Here I come!”
Making sure you wouldn’t get hurt, Jake threw you into the water as gently as possible, but made the angle entertaining enough so you would go flying. He wasn’t sure who’d screeched the highest, your three siblings who had you spearheading this little operation with full trust in your capabilities, or you reacting like you were falling down from an ikran midair. Either way, he was enjoying bullying his kid a bit too much.
Emerging from the stream and shaking the water off too akin to a wet dog, your first action was to shield your siblings, open arms and whole body and all. “Nete, run! Protect Lovak and Kiri, I’ll save you!”
Jake’s evil smile looming on his kids wavered at that.
You had problems with some letters even at the big age of eight, two vowels next to each other in one word was one of them, along with the confusion of “f” and “b”, and sometimes “p” — it made for hilarious misunderstandings Jake had to fight to be a parent about instead of busting a lung from laughing.
One of the many unforgettable events was deemed “The Fish Incident” between Jake, Max and Norm. He had been recording Neteyam’s first catch on his own to add it to the cute memory pile he and his mate would watch in the future after all their children eventually moved out to pursue their paths. You happened to be present that time, watching intently as your big brother shot a particularly giant yellow fish, eagerly jumping down to the pond to get it and showing it to the camera with a shy, yet proud grin on his face.
“Good job, boy!” Jake had cheered. “Say I got that fish!”
Out of the camera’s frame and making little jumps on your toes, you’d blithely yelled. “Yeah, you got that bish!”
The rest of the footage was shaky and out of focus, the microphone hadn’t picked up any sound but Jake’s uncontrollable laughter, kicked off by an exploding snort of shock.
You and Neteyam had no idea why, but after he’d stopped recording with tears streaming down his face, wheezing because he couldn’t stop laughing, you’d joined to laugh and play with him regardless, mirroring his excitement.
Later though, Jake had to actively make it so you wouldn’t have to say the words kitchen and pitch (and obviously, fish) out loud, at least, in front of Neytiri. He didn’t want to abstain from having a little fun himself, so under no circumstance was she allowed to find out and correct you. And he had it going strong for a while until it slipped when he was talking about a scientist friend over at Hell’s Gate called Richard and you repeated it as “Bitchard”. The word had somehow weaseled into your English lexicon as well, and Neytiri wasn’t illiterate enough to be oblivious to what you’d merrily blurted.
Good old days. Jake sometimes missed hearing you curse innocently. Neytiri had to take that source of joy away from him. Discouragement and warnings would be given to his kids if they knowingly cussed, of course, Kiri calling Lo’ak penis face was something he’d immediately shot down, but this was harmless, he thought. He could have let you be blissfully unaware until the day you learned the meaning of the words, or gain consciousness of the articulation errors as you grew up and naturally fix it yourself. It was only a natural part of a child’s growth.
But he had other entertainment. The obligatory consonant you had to sometimes add to two different neighboring vowels if it was too difficult for you to pronounce, for example. Your little brother was a victim to this. Thankfully, Lo’ak wasn’t bothered to be called Lovak by his older sister, somehow thinking of it as a nickname, but Jake could bet his ass the boy would use this as infinite ammo against you once both of you were older. He would of course forget how you always protected him in play fighting like right now, of course, maybe you would remember enough to accuse him of ungratefulness, and perhaps Lo’ak would declare he didn’t recall anything such as that.
How bittersweet of a thing it was to drift into imaginations of how his kids would be like when they grew up. Like the stinging ache Jake always got when he was confronted with the sadness of losing his children forever one day — the need to put every minute with them in a bottle, and the feeling of time slipping through his fingers, the same old melancholy each time: when it first dawned on Jake that you’d successfully sneaked up on him just now, when Neteyam had captured his first fish all on his own without assistance, when Lo’ak showed him the knife he had successfully carved by himself to get his approval, and when Kiri had tended to a scratch wound of his better than her grandmother did with precocious wisdom on her face.
Jake was making every moment count. Just like this one.
“Nobody is safe from me, I’ll huff and I’ll puff and blow your house in!” He jumped down from the log with the grace and intimidation of a leopard who had been disturbed while eating up the tree he’d dragged his meal on, splashing water everywhere. “What will you do, o’ mighty hunter?”
You loved being called mighty hunter by him, he saw the sparkle in your eyes.
“Noooo!” Kiri cried, pulling on both Lo’ak and Neteyam’s arms huddled behind you. “He’ll get us!”
Your thought process, completely spooked by Jake, was painfully visible. But surprisingly, you yelled, “Scatter!” with the experience of a rave addict who would take a forty and smash it on the ground as the police closed in on the party grounds. And his kids ran in different directions, like a group of cockroaches when someone approached them, they all ran in different directions.
Sloshing water all around to make it more terrifying, he got Kiri first, hauled her right over his shoulder when she made for Neytiri, thinking her mother could protect her, but no. Jake was inevitable. Lo’ak gave him a weak challenge trying to step around him, getting Jake to confuse his steps as if they were playing basketball, but this was his dad he was facing and not Spider, these tricks didn’t work on veterans, so now he was flush to Jake’s side, tail facing forward, carried like some strapless bag, it didn’t even put any strain on the man’s bicep. Neteyam was the last, hiding beneath the water level and holding his breath, but the little nose peeking out for air gave him away, and Jake had him up the other shoulder in seconds, the boy didn’t have enough time to run away even though he’d spied from underwater that Jake was coming for him.
Three out of four. That left only his eldest daughter.
You were nowhere to be seen. The delighted and struggling giggle-cries of the three kids in his arms and shoulders didn’t help at all to Jake taking his surroundings in with a keen ear, all senses attuned to spotting the stray.
A rustle from above.
“Attack him!”
He didn’t have enough time to see just which branch of the trees cocooning the creek you had climbed on before all three in his arms turned on him, flailing around together in unison to get Jake to fall down and kneel, and it surprisingly worked, he couldn’t even recover between the blink of a time between them getting off the way and you jumping down on him. The height at which you did that knocked all air off his ribcage for a second as he tried to retain balance, and you took that chance to sit on his shoulders, your legs dangling from each one, grabbing onto two dreads on his head as if they were the tails of Toruk he once had held onto like leashes.
Jake had to give this one to you, damn. When had you become a student of the art of strategizing?
But, defeat was defeat. He had to play his part. “This can’t be!” He opened his arms, making it seem cartoonishly like he had been incapacitated. “I’ve been… bested?”
“That’s right!” The cockiness was dripping from you as you pulled on his dreads. “I’m Toruk Makto Makto now. The first of my name!”
Your siblings started cheering battle cries, repeating the word.
Don’t laugh, he ordered himself. Toruk Makto Makto, what a title, oh Jesus Christ.
“Alright, alright, you got me, mighty hunter.”
“So I win?”
“Yes, you win.”
He was going to have two less dreads on his head if you kept pulling on them like this. “Hell yeah!”
After hearing the declaration, his other children also joined in on the ‘Hell yeah!’ train. Jake supposed he could let this slide for now, you guys were too happy, he wouldn’t sully it.
“You’re gonna rip my hair off, get down now.” You understood play time was over from his tone, and obeyed, hopping down his shoulders when he lowered you into the water, immediately attempting to rush to your siblings’ side to be celebrated, but Jake had something else in mind. “C’mere for a sec.”
He pulled you to the edge of the stream where water met grassy land, dipping his hand into the wet soil under your confused gaze and bringing his fingers up to trace a pattern on your face.
The reaction was instantaneous. You pulled back. “Ew, mud!”
“Hold on,” he gently warned, or rather, encouraged.
You let him continue whatever he was doing then, albeit not losing the laughable concern along the way. “What’s this?”
“Well, you’ve tamed Toruk Makto before an ikran. My mighty hunter should be painted accordingly, no?”
He pointed down and you followed it with your eyes. Seeing your reflection and the ‘V’ shape with a dot on your face in the water, you stopped yourself from touching it with the impulse control that kicked in at the last second, looking up at Jake, jumping up and down, unable to contain the energy, knowing exactly what he did just now. He’d recognized you as a prospective hunter candidate. “Thank you, dad!”
Jake could swear his insides liquidized at that. “Always, sweetheart.”
“Will you paint me like this when I finally get an ikran, too?”
“Of course I will.” He actually wanted to cup your cheeks and plant a little kiss at the adorable flat of your nose but the mud would be ruined, so he pet your braids instead. “As will your mother. It’s what family does.”
At the time, Jake didn’t have the slightest inkling that the paint would end up being your own blood.
Neytiri’s bloody hands — your blood, his child, his child, his baby Jake’s entire day would stop at seeing one tear on her face — had been stroking your face, trying to hold on to you anywhere she could to soothe your flaming pain as you were squirming like a dying animal fighting for the next breath. His heart beating right behind his eyes in a massive pulsating headache, Jake was too desperate fighting his swelling panic with each noise that ripped from you to notice they had left the vague pattern of Iknimaya paint pattern in their wake.
She did.
And her following anguished, gasping shudder as her shaking hands hovered above your contorted face, tracing the air along the lines the blood had left on your face ended up hitting him right in the gut. He couldn’t dwell on it. He couldn’t let this random twisted sign sweep him into the roaring waterfall of torment, your life was on the line.
Jake didn’t have any coherent memory of running back to the mouth of the cave from the family tent. One moment, he was back with his brain fried from thinking about Quaritch in the aftermath of an hour that had just taken twenty years from his lifespan, avoiding the inquisitive silence of his kids who hadn’t gone back to bed yet; and the other, Neytiri was screaming in the distance with terror worse than the anguish he’d heard her go through upon losing her father and her home. Jake had all but flown there, mind blank in swirling, spasming panic.
Neytiri had told him he had a strong heart the first time they’d met. No fear. Even though Jake was aware he was being disliked strongly, this quality of his she had remarked on, honest to her soul.
But she was wrong.
That fearless fortress heart of his had begun to crumble the moment he learned of Neteyam’s existence. And with each and every new addition to their family, Jake had been rehabilitated on what fear truly was, like a baby learning a language.
Losing. It was all about losing.
He would wake up from terrorizing, choking nightmares with the sensation of his family being violently taken away from him when his children were in his arms, sleeping peacefully all along. He couldn’t stop it. It had spiraled out of control after the sky people came back, turning him into a paranoid, angry man who was ruled by fear. He worried for the safety of his family every day, obsessed over it — beneath the impenetrable iron mask of a leader his whole clan was leaning on, Jake was nothing more than a weak, emotionally crippled father who would lose it the more his children grew up to take reckless actions he made worse by the inability to govern his fear-curbed anger. He called it tough love.
That tough love had resulted in this. Loss. Loss. Loss he had tried his damnedest to prevent. It was blood slipping through his fingers from a wound he had no way of stitching back together.
The more he pushed to block the bullet entrance point, the more you fought Jake, making feral yowls that weakened into animalistic whimpers and throaty whines that all but ripped his heart off muscle by muscle, your hits and scratches didn’t faze him, but the noises. Eywa, the noises. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know you’re in pain, I know, I know, I’ll make it go away, please hold on, c’mon.” The droplets of sweat that had formed in the matter of seconds rolled down his face. You had begun to hyperventilate from the accelerating pain because of his efforts. “C’mon sweetheart. Breathe for me, breathe for dad, okay? You gotta breathe. Breathe!”
You were unhearing, lost in the overwhelming, blinding, deafening agony he couldn’t anchor or shield you from. The grunt of desperation that escaped his sore throat rattled his carbon fiber infused bones.
Jake didn’t have time to think. His reason had flown out the mountains to be able to force one single word to form in his mindscape. He just knew he had to stop the bleeding, propelled by concentrated instinct. You were struggling too much for him to have a solid hold on you. Everything, too slippery. Too much blood. Too fucking much. The sickening smell of iron bit at his senses.
(Was it the liver? The spleen? Pancreas? One of the major arteries? But Na’vi biology wasn’t the same as humans. Fuck.)
Then, you were being restrained by a third party, Neytiri was too devastated to make that reasonable decision, and in his peripheral vision, he saw it was Neteyam who had sat down on your legs, restricting your movements with incredible strength. Jake couldn’t even bark at him to go away with how much Neteyam looked in control, a rock he and Neytiri both could draw strength from. Behind him, Lo’ak was a stone statue just standing there, frozen, his eyes not leaving your bloody abdomen.
When you let out a yelp his heart could no longer stand, he yelled, “Bring a stretcher!” to nobody in particular, out of his goddamn mind. Lo’ak jumped at it, coming back to his senses, hesitating what to do for a second before he was off to god knows where. He had to take you to Norm’s, and then a doctor—
A tiny, trembling voice he couldn’t recognize as Neteyam’s reached his ears. “Dad…”
The boy was looking at you, blown eyes shining with unshed tears, upper set of teeth sinking in his shaky bottom lip.
You had gone slack in his arms.
He hadn’t even seen the moment, didn’t stop putting pressure on the wound as the dread assaulted his body. And a biting shiver went down his spine before Jake also looked down on his eldest daughter. Your eyes weren’t closed all the way, halted gaze focused on something to the side, one tear rolling down your temple.
“Don’t do this to me.” Jake couldn’t breathe as he shook his head, he was about to lose it, about to tumble down the edge he could never climb his way up from. In denial, he didn’t lift his hands, losing all strength in his upper body and gradually collapsing forward as his forehead found yours. “Don’t do this to me, sweetheart, not like this. Please, not like this.”
The last thing you were looking at was the ikran you’d gotten.
Jake didn’t feel that very ikran making its way to their side, flapping its wings, didn’t feel anything to react when a snoot reached down and ever-so-gently nudged you, like you were asleep and it was given the duty to wake you up in the morning that day.
Your ikran nudged you once. Twice. Thrice. Each push was harsher than the other.
You didn’t wake up. Your eyes didn’t get their light back.
A paralyzing numbness took over Jake’s body, all his neuron ends stunted. The moon stopped spinning, time stopped moving, he ceased existing, all at the same time.
A piercing ringing stabbed his ears, took away his hearing. He didn’t hear Neytiri scream louder than the ikran, you were ripped from his arms, and he couldn’t move to do anything about it, just staring into the distance, at nothing, bloodied palms facing upwards in his lap.
It was Neteyam who tried to stop his wailing mother from going mad with grief, trying to get her to set down your body from her crushing embrace even though he couldn’t take his misty eyes off your body. It was Lo’ak, frantic in his run even though his panic-frozen face gave away nothing, who had rushed back with Mo’at and Kiri. It was Tuk who had thrown herself into his arms for a hug Jake wasn’t in his body to reciprocate, his seven year old child, in tears, comforting him when Jake, as the adult and the father, should have had his shit together and be the provider of comfort.
Instead, all he could feel was the blood on his hands, one small part in his mind making him focus on that one amber with a bug inside he’d carved for you, years ago, now in your hair.
The tears didn’t come. His world was shattering all around him, but not one tear made it to the surface.
Someone was talking to him, but Jake wasn’t there, experiencing the moment behind a thick veil of silencing glass.
“Open her mouth, Jakesuli.”
He looked at the source of the muffled sound breaching the ringing in his ears, painfully empty and unfeeling. It was Mo’at. In her hand, a woodsprite gently floated in the air and landed before it repeated the motion again. It was as if his brains had been emptied from his skull. He didn’t understand. He didn’t see. Tuk was clinging to him, Neytiri doubled down in waves of cries in Neteyam’s arms. Jake wasn’t there.
“Open her mouth so I can keep her spirit here longer,” Mo’at said. “Do it now. We do not have much time.”
And Jake could breathe again, his soul slinged back into his body, feeling returning to the tips of his fingers, kicking into action.
He cradled your body from the cold ground you were lying on, bringing his shaky hand to your tightly shut jaw. Your body couldn’t have been experiencing rigor mortis, so you must have been clenching your teeth to the point of your jaw locking to fight the pain, and he was nearly blinded from the sheer strength with which he had to hold back from hugging you. But he eventually opened your jaw with a sickening pop that made him visibly grimace, and Mo’at guided the woodsprite to slip inside the cavity of your mouth.
The bioluminescent dots on your body began to flicker the moment your mouth was closed again. Jake gave a shuddering breath at the sign of life, hands unsure if he should continue to cover the wound again.
“Eywa has allowed her to remain. For a while.”
“Oh Great Mother, thank you!” Neytiri took one of your hands, pressing it against her cheek and kissing it over and over again. “Thank you, thank you.”
“Bring her to my tent,” the Tsahik simply stated, and Jake didn’t even stop to consider how he should be taking you to the science guys, how they were probably going to say you needed a blood transfusion and surgery right after they got the necessary tests such as MRI and blood analysis out of the way. Kiri, sniffling weakly, took the crying Tuk away so Jake could carry you. He couldn’t comfort his girls the way he wanted to, couldn’t attend to Neytiri as their sons consoled her and got consoled in return in a tight hug together; he was on the move, heart about to beat out of his chest.
He took you in his arms and clutched your unconscious and ashen blue body tightly to his chest, your head lolling in the crook of his arm, arriving to Mo’at’s tent faster than she did — and oh, how small you were compared to him, how fragile and vulnerable. The attitude made you appear bigger than you actually were, and Jake was reminded how you were still a child from how light his daughter was, like a fleeting bird. He’d forgotten. It had been forever since he last held you like this that he couldn’t bear to lay you down on the mat. If only he could hide you away within his ribcage, away from the pain and the suffering, forever.
“Everything in this world is borrowed,” she told him, an incense was burned, salves were prepared, tools he had no idea on what they were used were brought out. Plants, herbs. Jake stood there, helpless. “Even this child, Eywa has lent to you. She is borrowed from the bosom of our Great Mother, entrusted to you. Entrusted.” Your freckles were still flickering, and Tsahik’s tone, clipped. “I will converse with her. Ask if she plans to call her daughter back home today.”
Ice washed over Jake. “No, you gotta heal her, Mo’at, I can't lose m—”
“Everything in this world is borrowed. Each breath. Each heartbeat. All children. All gifts from Eywa.” Her eyes bore into him. “I can only ask.”
Neytiri pounced on him as soon as he stumbled out of the tent, beaten and spent despite not having one scratch on his body, upon Kiri’s entrance to assist her grandmother in tending to you.
“Your fault!” He was violently pushed back, only able to take in the woman’s bloodied, wrathful face, tear tracks freshened with saltwater she couldn’t stop shedding. “This is your fault! I told you! I told you to fix this!”
Jake was aware other clan members were watching even if they weren’t out of their homes, he was Olo’eyktan, their leader, his pride would have taken this to their own tent had this been any other debate, but now, he couldn’t give a flying fuck. Bruising his back was the weight of a failed father instead of the ornamental piece of the clan leader, it was unbearable enough. She was right. There was nothing else to be said. His mate was right.
“Mother, please,” Neteyam was right beside them in a flash, holding Neytiri back and shielding his father from her. His sunken eyes found Lo’ak and Tuk crouching at the edge of the tent, huddled together, the youngest having the crying hiccups as her older brother had an arm around her, himself looking traumatized enough.
“Don’t, boy.” Jake put a hand on his stone-hard shoulder, moving him aside. Neteyam took one hard look at Neytiri half-circling his father in long strides, and decided it was best if he took care of his siblings instead even if he wasn’t told outright. He ushered Tuk and Lo’ak up and away, to the other side of the tent where they wouldn’t disturb their parents by staying in the field of vision.
Jake should have been the one to take control, but Neteyam had stepped up for it — he was a kid, too, eldest child or not. What the fuck am I doing?
In his tumultuous sorrow, every piece of the fortress Jake had put together was coming down, every decision re-evaluated, emotion overtaking what he once thought as logic. His fault. His fault. He had ruined his children, all of them. He had thought embracing the iron will of a war chief would allow him to be a strong father figure, but it had only alienated his family.
You had died in his arms.
Jake contained every storm in a box inside his body, Neytiri lived those storms, she was strong that way. He would take it. Her eyes were only seeing red at the moment, the grief and wrath of a wronged mother. “Yeah, it’s my fault,” he told her, something between a whisper and a sigh. His kids deserved to hear it. “I know.”
“She is dying because of you!” Jake couldn’t escape the truth by closing his eyes, but he did anyway, like an automatic body reflex against detecting something would be hitting him. He swallowed, his mouth was drier than a desert, no relief was found in the action. “My daughter! My child! Your child!” She pushed him again, hissing. Jake didn’t do anything to stop it. “All because you told her to go today—everything, everything… All because you didn’t reach out to her. She hid that.” A shiver shook her voice. “That… because of you. You! She thought you would be angry!”
Violent horror seized his heart, ears pinning back on his head, knuckles clenching so light blue they were almost white. “I would… I would never—how could I ever—?”
But it was in character, wasn’t it? Jake always getting angry over worry for his children. Going crazy because they could have gotten hurt. Fear grows into anger, worm eating away the bark of a tree into poisonous snake. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, chest rising and falling in big breaths, there was no air.
“She said you hated her. Over and over again, she said you hated her. Not to call you because you would hate her for it, Jake!”
Bitter guilt and glacial shock rose from his stomach, choking him, his eyes looking at anywhere but Neytiri’s blazing golden eyes, to his children who sat together seemingly away from them but blatantly listening, to the tent flames were barely illuminating the shadows inside. His legs were weak. All that he had been breaching behind a wall to prioritize your safety flooded rancid to his mind.
Jake got angry at you all the time that you’d expected it at your most vulnerable. That he would blame you, reprimand you for his enemy’s actions.
His memories were attacked by all sides. That you had gone off on your own for the Iknimaya everybody should have been there for, he should have painted your face personally for. That you have been hiding the bleeding out from the moment Jake had found you pinned down by the dead body of an avatar, from the moment you’d answered positively to the question of if you were hurt or not, with that rifle he’d thought you didn’t let go because of how the events had shaken you. He opened his mouth, a gaping fish, but no words came out, mute and voiceless.
Hate you? Hate you? Hate his own child he would burn the whole world for?
His child. Suffering in silence when her nature was anything but silent. Afraid of her father when she was the most fearless of his kids when facing him.
You thought you weren’t loved.
“What have you done to our children? What has this family become? What are we if our children are too afraid to come to us in their darkest hours?” Neytiri was snarling, both fury and grief battling inside her, teeth gnashing so hard they could sharpen a knife. “What child does not seek her parents when she is hurt?”
Unseeing, Jake couldn’t stand anymore, staggering towards a particularly large rock and sitting on it, he raised his hands to rub his face but stopped when he saw the blood.
All yours. All his daughter’s who he had failed. Who had died in his arms thinking she was hated because Jake was a shit excuse of a father you couldn’t trust to say you were hurt that you would take the risk of dying so he wouldn’t find out.
His daughter’s blood, on his hands.
He put his elbows to his legs, crossing his wrists to lean his forehead on, yet unable to hide his shaking hands even if he managed to hide his face. Jake couldn’t comprehend any of this, crushed beneath the skyful of burning hot shame and the guilt dwarfing him — tears he couldn’t seem to shed found life in his eyes at him trying to blink away the memory of you clinging to your ikran at the flight home. You had been suffering the whole time and all he could think about was Quaritch when he should have been thinking of you.
“What child would rather hide her injury than let her father know?” It shocked his spine like lightning, and Jake visibly flinched, fists clenching and unclenching. “Explain this to me!”
Shame. Shame. Shame. Jake was about to throw up, rocking back and forth.
He had nothing to say. Nothing could ever excuse this. He couldn’t wash away all your moments from this night, all a cursed film strip haunting his every breath accompanied by thorns that ripped apart his insides.
“If she lives,” Neytiri said, pointing a curled hand at him, slowly, scarily calm, but shaking with mastered rage. If she lives destroyed Jake. “We would be lucky if my mother doesn’t decide to perform Stxel’eveng as Tsahik!”
Jake’s head shot up at the word, his arms dropping altogether and meeting his mate’s tortured stare. As Olo’eyktan, he had to be taught the traditions and ceremonies to the point of talking in his sleep from overlearning — this one was a long lost one the clan hadn’t performed for a long time, as the Omatikayan were faithful and loyal to Eywa and her teachings.
Stxel’eveng was the shortened word for ‘Gifting of a Child’ — an adoption ceremony within Na’vi that didn’t even have the word ‘adopt’ in their vocabulary, simply because it was almost non-existent, most Na’vi didn’t even know the existence of such a tradition. If the parents were unable to care and provide for their child, mistreated on purpose or neglected them to the point of no return, they were to be publicly dishonored by the gifting of said child to another willing family. A knot would be formed between the three, one thread bound around the waist of the mother signifying the womb, one thread fastened to the queue of the father, and the final thread to the wrists of the child as if they were captive. The knot, then, would be severed by Tsahik to symbolize the dissolvement of the familial relations in Eywa’s eyes.
The biggest shame a Na’vi could bring upon their name.
“No,” Jake muttered, his mind going blank yet again. Fuck the shame. Damn his name. He couldn’t lose you. It’s a stone in his throat he can’t swallow, whales on his tongue he can’t speak to save himself.
“Pray to Eywa it doesn’t happen. Because if I was Tsahik, I would do it.” Neytiri turned away from him, pushing the heel of her hands on her damp eyes. “I cannot bear this shame, Jake. I can barely breathe.”
He quivered like a baby leaf caught in a storm, a couple more tears rolling down his cheeks. “Neytiri…”
“I lost my daughter today. She slipped from my fingers. I watched her die.” He lowered his head at her grief, vision swimming. “How am I a mother when I can't feel her pain? How am I worthy of being her mother when I saw my child’s pain and just sat there helpless? Why would the Great Mother ever want to send her back?” She just kept going, not having any mercy on Jake’s soul. “Where was I when she won against her ikran? Where was I when she had her first flight? Where was I to protect her from those demons?”
A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning.
Who was Jake Sully?
“Lo’ak, come back here!”
Both of them turned just in time to see their youngest son running away from the back of the tent they’d been hiding, Neteyam following a couple steps before he stopped to look back, probably at his sister.
“I’ll get him,” Jake said, soulless and absentminded. Neytiri didn’t respond, stalking back to Mo’at’s tent, just kneeling in front of the entrance, wrapping her hands and tail around her knees. Tuk turned the corner, scampering towards her and finding refuge in Neytiri immediately wrapping around her protectively.
Jake wasn’t allowed to comfort his mate.
But he could get to his children who needed it. Trust, Neytiri had said. Honesty.
Walking up to Neteyam, he put a warm hand behind his rigid back, and felt the taut muscles relax underneath his touch, another wave of shame hitting at the inability to recall just when he had last comforted his boy.
“Get Tuk. Go home. Rest.”
Neteyam turned to him, scandalized. “We will stay.”
“Neteyam—”
“Dad—sir, please. I can’t leave my sister.”
That sir was a splash of acid on his already weeping heart.
It dawned on Jake that Neteyam was the one witnessing your moment of death. Death. A surge of nausea shot up from his esophagus, and he didn’t stop himself from hooking an arm around the boy, careful of using his hands not to get blood on the eldest, pulling him into a much awaited embrace. He hadn’t allowed him to be a kid.
“It’s okay, Neteyam,” he croaked. “She’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
Neteyam’s arms didn’t wrap around him, unfamiliar to the gesture — crumbling Jake’s already broken heart into dust, but he did shiver, fighting the tremble. He simply said, “I pray so.”
He was still trying to hold it together — for everybody’s sake.
Jake felt the boy’s tears on his skin, and didn’t let him go when he tried to step back to wipe them, letting Neteyam cry silently as much as he wanted. He owed the boy that much, as his father. It was the least he could do.
Jake would stitch this family back together. He had to.
Washing the blood off his hands had taken a while. Jake wasn’t let off easy, cursed by the remaining line of bloodied dirt in his nails.
He found Lo’ak at where it all began. The mouth of the cave where your ikran was disturbing the other ones with restless chittering, reminding Jake of a wolf howling all night at the full moon.
His youngest son was transfixed by the blood staining the ground. Just standing there, looking at it. Jake couldn’t protect him from the sight. Not anymore. He himself could barely stomach it.
“Is sister going to be taken away?” was the first thing he asked Jake, not looking at him still.
Jake didn’t know if he meant death, or Stxel’eveng.
“I pray not,” he told Lo’ak, honest for once.
And like him, the boy wasn’t sentimental or emotional enough to bear his wounds to another, even to a family member, and fell silent. “It has Toruk’s colors,” he said instead, referring to your ikran’s red, orange, yellow and black patterns. Looking at the creature, Jake tried his hardest to stand up straight when he discerned all the blood coating its neck and back from the natural red color disguising it. “I wanted to fly with her.”
Pulling him into a side-hug, “I’m sorry, Lo’ak,” Jake admitted, causing him to finally break the trance he had on the blood. Speechless at his father, proud and strong, admitting he was wrong out loud and that he was being hugged when it wasn’t like his father at all to show them casual physical affection. Jake knew what must be going through his head, he would be thinking the same if his own father had ever taken responsibility for wrongdoings, as well. “It’s my fault you didn’t get to.”
Lo’ak’s mouth was hanging low. “Dad…”
“But you will,” he said, determined and full of hope. He had to be. For his children.
“You think so?”
“I pray so,” he quoted Neteyam. “Your sister is stubborn. She will pull through. Don’t lose faith in her.”
Lo’ak’s grip on his forearm was painful.
“That ikran’s lost the half of its tail fins,” the boy sniffled, thickening his voice to hide the tears. “How did it get all the way here?”
It stung in Jake’s chest. The same way you’d hidden that injury. Your ikran was fueled only by the desire to get its rider to safety, it seemed.
It would never fly again.
Jake looked down at Lo’ak, only to be met with him avoiding his look, still concerned with hiding the tears. “Loyalty,” he said. “Devotion. Sometimes you don’t want to lose the things you love no matter what, that desperation gives you enough strength to push through any trial by fire. You would do anything. Anything.”
And sometimes it was fear that did it, but he didn’t mention that to Lo’ak to not put salt on their family’s injury. Jake didn’t want to think about how terrified you must have been, or he would actually go insane. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of you not making it in the end. He had to keep going. He had to push forward. Be the father this family needed him to be.
“Come on, boy,” he pulled Lo’ak gently. “Let’s go back.”
Your ikran whined at this pitifully. Jake tried not to think. He tried not to imagine what your reaction would be upon learning you would never fly together again, and had to put down this ikran that had been devoted endlessly to you if you wanted to get a new one.
Jake didn’t think. Because if he did, he would actually go insane from the pain.
Mo’at and Kiri emerged from the tent only in the morning, by which the whole family was cocooned in Jake’s embrace for the first time in years before the sky people had come back. They all had scrambled to get up, waiting with bated breath for one syllable of good news as Kiri slipped into Jake’s arms, one wink from falling asleep while standing. He kissed the girl’s head, soothing her, hoping this could be you eventually. He had been praying for it like a madman.
“Eywa has accepted to bestow your daughter back to you, Jakesuli,” was the only answer Mo’at had for them, no word about your physical wellbeing. “But only if she accepts as well.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You must go speak with her. At the Tree of Souls.”
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#dad!jake x daughter!reader#dad!jake sully x reader#jake sully x reader#jake sully x daughter!reader#dad!jake sully x daughter!reader#sully family x reader#mom!neytiri x reader#neteyam x sister!reader#neytiri x daughter!reader#lo'ak x sister!reader#kiri x sister!reader
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Claire De Lune || Alexia Putellas
reader and alexia have a child together. angst. inspired by one of my favorite songs.
warnings : death, mentions of pregnancy. do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.
It all happened so fast.
“Ellie, stop running please!” Alexia begged, laughing as her daughter giggled loudly. You sat at the top of the hill smiling, plating up the sandwiches you had made at home. The picnic table was full of all your girls’ favorite snacks, and Ellie’s toys were scattered on the plaid blanket right next to you. She had her little football to kick around with her mother, her pretty sequin shoes abandoned next to your purse in favor of her custom bright pink cleats.
You hear your wife’s huffing and puffing as she treks back up the slightly steep hill. In her arms was a squirming toddler who had her giggle and cheeky smile. You stand and pretend to look mad, hands already on your hips with a slight smirk on your face.
“Did you run away from Mama again, sweetie?” you tease, taking Ellie from your wife’s arms. She nods and buries her face in your neck, skin hot and flushed from all her running.
“Did she outrun you, my love?” you ask Alexia with a smile, holding Ellie in one arm and popping a strawberry in your mouth with the other.
“Like a bat out of hell, she’s gotten that speed from you.”
Before you could clap back at your wife, Ellie tugs at your shirt and whines that she’s hungry. You sit with her under the warm Barcelona sky as the sun begins to set, handing her a little ham and cheese sandwich which is her favorite at the moment. She happily munches on her food and you look at Alexia who was looking at you. She reaches out her arm for you and you hold it across the table. It was a perfect little family day and you would trade it for nothing but a chance to do it again.
There was no time to think.
You wake up in the middle of the night to Ellie screaming for you. Alexia sits up at the same time and scrambles out of bed with you. You rush into her bedroom and see that she’s crying and sitting on the edge since she wet the bed. She rushes into your arms and you scoop her up, cradling her close. Alexia rubs her back and holds you close, soothing your daughter so she can tell you what was wrong.
“Bad dream Mommy,” she sobs into your neck, her clothes starting to dry and her body beginning to shiver. You take her into the bathroom and get her cleaned up as Alexia changes the sheets. You walk out of the bathroom 15 minutes later to Ellie’s bed made and her clean pajamas warmed up a little in the dryer.
Alexia dresses her and you find her nightlight to bring back to your room. Alexia walks into your room with a dead-asleep toddler and her favorite blankie clutched tight to her face. You plugged the little dinosaur nightlight into the wall next to your bed as Alexia gently climbed into bed with your daughter. You pulled Spotify up and turned on Clair De Lune which helped Ellie sleep. She nestled herself right into Alexia’s chest exactly how you did, leaving a soft smile on your wife’s face. You climbed in beside her and fell asleep immediately, Alexia’s heart feeling full as her girls fell asleep safe in her arms.
You never thought you’d come face to face with your worst nightmare.
“Ellie collapsed while playing football today. We’ve sent her to the nurse’s office but I think it’s best if you take her to the hospital just in case.”
Alexia ran. Faster than she ever has on the pitch. The sound of her cleats rang through the hallways of the Johan Cruyff stadium the moment she got off the phone with you. The look of panic on her face said all she needed to Jonatan and the rest of the girls.
The number of traffic laws she broke would guarantee fines that could amount to her entire week’s salary but she didn’t care. The fear in your voice and the sound of you being close to tears was all the more reason for her to have her foot on the pedal right to the floor. Her Cupra roared as she sped down the highway, tears threatening to fall.
She had one cleat and a slipper on as she rushed into the emergency room, eyes searching for you. You were sat alone at the end of the hallway, head in your hands. She called out your name and you looked up at her, unable to hold it together any longer. You broke just as she grabbed and pulled you into her arms. Alexia couldn’t hold it together the moment you cried in her chest and she broke down too.
“Where is she?” Alexia asked after your crying subsided and she managed to pull herself together.
“She fainted again when I picked her up and they took her…the nurses haven’t said anything either, I’ve asked.”
Alexia stood and kissed your hair, walking over to the nurses’ station just as she heard her last name being called.
“Mrs. Putellas?” the doctor asked, walking out of the trauma room with a look of concern.
“What’s wrong with my daughter?” you jump out of your seat and hurry over, Alexia’s arm immediately around you.
“I need you to come with me,” she said cryptically. You and Alexia follow her into a little discussion room and your heart sinks.
You sit and reach for Alexia whose hand finds yours immediately. She holds it tight in her lap and you listen to the doctor break the news no parent should ever hear.
“She’s dying.”
“No!” you wail, falling into Alexia’s arms. You sob and feel your heart break into a billion pieces, pain just excruciating at the thought of losing your daughter.
Alexia held you tight and listened to the doctor as she explained your daughter’s next steps on how to care for her and how to keep her comfortable. When the doctor left, Alexia held your face in her hands, her tears of pain and anguish mirrored yours.
“We’re doing to do everything we can for her, mi amor. I promise we will get through this.”
But she was a miracle.
Alexia stood in the bathroom with you, nervously biting her cuticles. You sat on the counter and swung your legs, eyes locked on the timer on your phone in your lap.
“How much longer?” Alexia asked, standing right in front of you between your legs.
“2 minutes,” you whisper, hesitantly looking up at her.
“Okay, don’t look so worried amor.”
“What if it’s negative again?” you say, watching the numbers on the timer go lower and lower. She takes your hands in her big ones and you feel their warmth. She kisses them both and caresses her hands up your arms. They gently move down your back and pull your hips closer to the edge. Your hands rest on her chest and she smiles up at you when there’s a minute left on the timer.
“We’re going to have the most beautiful baby, amor. He or she will be perfect in every shape and form. She will have your gorgeous hair and your silly laugh. She will have your mother’s eyes and your father’s smile. She will play football for Blaugrana because I said so.”
You smack her chest and roll your eyes, yelling in shock when the timer goes off. You physically feel your blood pressure skyrocket and your anxiety tingles in your chest. You gently jump off the counter and reach for Alexia’s hand. She takes the test in her hand and slowly turns it over. You’ve got your hands over your eyes and you can barely breathe before she gasps. You’re about to start crying when she whispers the words you’ve been waiting to hear for three years.
“It’s positive.”
She drops the test on the counter and picks you up, hugging you tight. She puts you down and your lips smash together, excited for your miracle baby to enter your lives.
Nine months and the easiest labor all the nurses told you, you held Ellie in your arms. She was the most beautiful thing you ever laid your eyes on. She was gorgeous, a perfect blend of you and Alexia.
She grew up in the blink of an eye, taking her first steps in the gym of Johan Cruyff, saying Mommy as her first word much to Alexia’s chagrin, her first birthday in Eli’s backyard with all the Barça girls, the girls doting on her every time she followed Alexia to training, playdates with Mateo and being pampered by Alexia when you were away for work.
Now at 6 years old, how do you explain to a child that she’s going to die?
I’ll hold your hand till the very end.
No parent should ever bury their child. Everyone knows there is no pain like losing a child. Ellie was in no pain as she deteriorated. She lost all of her beautiful brown hair in three weeks since you found out her diagnosis. She couldn’t go to school and could barely kick a football with Mama. It broke Alexia’s heart when Ellie could no longer pass balls to her in the backyard. You put Ellie to bed for the night and cradled an inconsolable Alexia in your arms for an hour till she stopped crying.
To everyone’s surprise, Alexia was the one whose face was not without a tear even for a second. You held it together well, making all the necessary arrangements to make Ellie as comfortable as possible. After everything was done, you drove home together, hand in hand in your lap. No words were exchanged but all the words that needed to be said were said.
The moment the front door locked, it was like a dam was broken. The wail you let out was a sound that even Alexia had never heard you make before. The pain in your chest was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest at the thought of having to wake up without Ellie jumping on your bed begging for Alexia to make her breakfast.
Alexia could only hope that time would put you back together and that the loss of a child wasn’t something that would ruin you both past the point of no return.
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