#this hurt/comfort fic brought to you by Blue Bell

[thekimspoblog]

MFs seriously out here saying A DROPPED PLOT POINT ABOUT ICE CREAM is symbolism that the story was "neatly wrapped up".

Y'know, Stanley Kubrick, it gets to a point where making your audience look for GREEN OBJECTS in a black and white scene isn't auteur and clever anymore. It's just fuckin stupid. Try-hard and insulting, to be more precise. Ice cream of any flavor is one of life's little niceties, and you need the job so you can afford the nice things, but having the job paradoxically keeps you away from the nice things you wanted. That part's pretty easy to interpret- among other reasons, because that's what HALF the symbolism amounts to.

But he likes mint because "GREEN = MONEY"? I dunno man; that doesn't sit right with me. Can't it just be because Jimmy is fun and spontaneous so of course he likes exciting flavors? Can't "green/mint = youth and springtime"? CAN'T IT BE BECAUSE GREEN IS ONE OF THE FEW COLORS OF ICE CREAM WHICH IS BOTH POPULAR AND VISUALLY INTERESTING TO FILM??? I don't mind how much style-over-substance this show is, but it's starting to piss me off when they won't just own it already. Like... look me in the eye and tell me that if Jimmy's favorite flavor had been strawberry, the showrunners wouldn't be pulling something out of their ass about how "PINK/RED = BLOOD". Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, y'know? Don't get me started on how Kim telling Jimmy to leave the mint off her sundae is weak-ass foreshadowing when homegirl looks dead into the camera 2 minutes later and says she's willing to scam for money even if she knows it might blow up in her face.

Don't get me wrong! I might be bitching, but I am glad, @kingoftieland that you post these. Even if every new Fun Fact just further convinces me that the writers somehow failed reading comprehension for their own show. And/Or are sometimes just overthinking it… And/Or they wrote a ton of smutty Breaking Bad fanfiction and are trying to pass it off as something deeper than it is. AND STOP SAYING "EVERYTHING IS WRAPPED UP!" Saying a thing doesn't automatically make it true. You spent 5 seasons explaining in excruciating detail how and why the modern justice system is fundamentally broken and then buttoned it with a rushed morality play about the "bad guy" improving himself by obeying the Law.

👏🏻Your Analysis 👏🏻 Did Not Support 👏🏻 Your Conclusion. 👏🏻 You Have 👏🏻 To Try 👏🏻 Again! 👏🏻

Jimmy asks for ice-cream because he still sees himself as a winner in this situation. We see him eating ice cream later, implying he is correct in this belief. We see him still being called "Saul" and being treated with respect in prison, so thematically he still gets the ice cream. We weren't expecting another mention of the mint-chip, so why would we be suspicious of its absence? It's not like they went out of their way to specify that only kind he can access inside ADX was vanilla. And even if they did... who cares?! No green; wow, very symbolism. Much deepness! Not to mention "The Game" is basically just capitalism, so unless you're suggesting Jimmy stay in prison because at least that gets him a roof over his head and three meals a day, I don't really see how "staying out of it" is a viable option. People kinda need money to live, remember?

But Buddy! Are you SURE you want to open the show up to interpretations based on what we AREN'T seeing? Because I hate to break it to you, but there were way bigger dropped plot points than prison ice cream sandwiches! By this logic, I can string together: Shirley Hartland from (4x09), Lois and Bobby from (5x01), an offhand comment from Huell in (5x07), the two scenes with Kim's mom in (5x06) and (6x06), and the unnamed CFLA client in (6x13), and from this draw the conclusion that Kim had an abortion sometime off screen, probably around June of 2004. I mean I'm going to interpret those dropped plot points as all tied together anyway, because that's what I choose. But my point is how am I crazy or grasping at straws for reading that kind of stuff into the story, when THIS is level of moon logic the show's creators want us to read into the cinematography! I don't normally do this... but fuck it! I'm playing the Death of the Author card. You guys can have your characters and plot back when you can prove you have any clue what you're doing with them.

Why does Saul really want that MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP ice cream? 🍦

[girlwithadragonheart]

Leave Me to the Beasts and Bears

Halsin x Female Reader

Summary: Halsin overhears you singing about your struggles as a woman in the world. Comfort ensues

Word Count: 1,274

Warnings: Paris Paloma song, mentions of rape, assault, SA, graphic flashbacks, this fic is very graphic and intense read at your discretion!!! (I love you don't trigger yourself unless you know it's okay) This is a hurt/comfort because I need it

A/N: This song has been looping in my mind for days, and it really highlights womanhood. Also this is my personal experiences all roped together if you don't like it keep scrolling.

BG3 Masterlist

You had been staying with the Grove for quite a while, and no one seemed to mind. You brought light and life to the druids with your music, and you had become a welcome addition to the lovely place. You had found a quiet overlook next to the inner sanctum and often found yourself drawn there for the peace it brought you.

Your fingers danced idly across your lute strings, humming softly to yourself and the surrounding life.

Halsin heard your melodic voice and found himself drawn to you. Tucked just behind you out of sight. Not that it mattered as your eyes fluttered closed.

Cremate me… Deliver me to safety. So that when it’s spent maybe it will be my own.

Scatter ashes… Leave no marker where you plant it. So the hordes will be disbanded as they search on a treasure map for my headstone.

The druid’s brow furrowed as he heard the softness of your voice carrying solemn words. Little did he know what exactly was on your mind.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top.

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again…

Your throat felt tight. You saw them in your mind’s eye. You felt their hands on your skin, calluses scraping against you, nails digging into your arms. Your knees hit the ground with such force they cracked, and you cried out in pain. No one came. Heavy and hard hands ripped your blouse, exposing your chest for predatory eyes.

I’ll tattoo it, just so they think it’s ruined. And if they think it’s ruined, it’s easier to save. But please hurry, if you really love me, and dispose of me unceremoniously in the waves.

You heard the water lapping at the shore as your chest tightened with that familiar panic. Every time you dreamt about it or someone touched you close enough you were brought back to it again and again for days on end. No matter how far you ran, their eyes would always follow you. Their skin was tainting yours no matter where you went. Chest to chest unwilling, but appeasing.

You remembered their fingers carding through your hair, tugging it roughly from your scalp. You remembered how they put it to their lips and breathed in your scent. 

Leave me to the trees and air, I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or buy cuttings of my priceless locks.

Leave me for two days or three, ‘til my fingertips turn green. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

Those rough hands gripped your jaw, forcing your mouth open as silent tears flew down your cheeks. Even if you screamed, no one would hear you. If they did, no one would save you. You were alone. Just the way they preferred.

The other hand traveled to their belt buckle. You heard the metal clanging in your ears as though cymbals were clashing next to your head. It was past the point of warning bells and alarms, you were in it and you wouldn’t get away before… before…

And they will come in such dismay, that they never did discover where I lay. And I will burn, my flesh and form. Screaming the words, “it will never be yours!”

I’ll take the flame over desecration, promise you’ll make all these arrangements. Don’t you dare think it’s overkill!

I wouldn’t wish the watching on anybody, so if for that reason only, swear to me you will!

Halsin watched you stand, and he heard the tears clogging your throat. He watched you scream these words out to the sea, and he felt his own throat close up. Memories of the Underdark and the drow couple started to surface in his mind. Maybe it was the words or the emotions, but what he thought of fondly started to seem less than. He heard you sniffle, and suddenly he felt those restraints on his wrists and ankles again. He felt them touching him, and his mind wanted to trick him into enjoying it. It wanted to appease his captors and draw pleasure where he could, but this… 

He was watching you break, and for the first time it was like looking in the mirror. For the first time he could see someone else breaking and recognize himself in them. 

And you choked up, feeling suffocated by the memory. You’ll never forget what it felt like. What it tasted like. The weight, the heat, the flavor, the intrusion was forever branded on your mind, body, and soul. It would always be there.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top. 

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

It was barely a melody at this point. More a choked whisper as you fell to your knees, lute laying still on the ground.

You felt the phantom soreness of every event, every time your body was used for someone else's desires. You heard every word of pleasure and longing that had ever passed to your ears. You felt their hands as they groped and poked and prodded even when you said no. Thousands upon thousands of strangers touching you. Friends touching you. Family touching you, and you couldn’t make them stop. 

But it’s fine because they love you. No! No more. This is not alright, I’m not alright. I’m not alright, I’m not, but no one understands, and no one will even listen, and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!

Strong arms wrap around you, trying to hold you together, but you’re falling apart freely with no air resistance, and the only thing stopping you is the embrace of warmth and strength and the smell of the earth. You didn’t realize you were screaming. You only thought you were crying, but you didn’t realize how much. 

Not until Halsin collapsed next to you and pulled you into his embrace. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I know.”

You felt his salty tears against your neck as you turned into him, arms wrapping around his neck. Your hands clawed at him desperately, trying to breathe in his safety and comfort all the while he tried to take yours. Kindred spirits, twin flames, two souls having walked the same path, and all you could do was hold onto each other for the ride and pray that you would make it to the other side.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“As am I.” His arms encompass you completely, holding you together. His large hands cover your back almost entirely, as though he’s attempting to shield you from your past with his large frame. You allow yourself this brief respite. After everything you’ve endured, you haven’t recovered, and you aren’t sure that you ever will.

It’s of small comfort to you that someone of Halsin’s size and stature knows the pain you’ve endured and has experienced it for himself. But you don’t know those circumstances. Perhaps he is only so large and muscular to protect what he couldn’t in the past. Perhaps he hopes to protect you in the same way.

Either way you are glad he is here.

“You are safe here,” He told you. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

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

A/N: Are you guys okay after that? I'm not. Whew.

Have a good night <3

Tag List: @leiotyp

As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Requests are open!

[agerefandom]

Skid Row Blues

Fandom: Little Shop of Horrors

Characters: regressor!Seymour Krelborn, Orin Scrivello

Words: 1,400

Summary: Seymour is trying to get through the day without regressing, but the appearance of Audrey's boyfriend in the shop sets a crisis in motion.

Warnings: Orin Scrivello is a warning in himself: threats of violence, yelling, anxiety, dissociation, canon-accurate sadist!Orin (which gives the scene a bit of an uncomfortable undertone), unwanted regression, physical restraint, hurt with no comfort.

A/N: someone requested regressor!Seymour interacting with Orin and I got a little carried away. This fic is unedited, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Seymour had been doing his best to keep himself together all day, but it was taking more energy than he had. He’d knocked over an empty plant pot that morning and cut himself on the shards: it hadn’t hurt very much at the time, but it had become a constant ache that wore on him every time he moved his hand.

Thankfully Mr. Mushnik hadn’t yelled at him, just huffing and leaving Seymour to clean it up. Seymour wasn’t sure if he could have held it together, if he’d yelled.

As it was, he was holding on by a thread: the knowledge that closing time was coming soon. They had barely sold three plants that day, but Seymour’s brain was too wrapped up in ouch and stuffed animal to really care about the shop’s finances. Closing time meant going downstairs to his bed and his favourite (only) plushie, and Seymour was clinging to that vision with both hands.

In the meantime, he had brought three plants to the counter and occupied himself by carefully pruning them, curling their discarded leaves between his fingers. The familiar snip of shears and texture of leaves was calming.

That was when the door was pushed open with too much force, sending the bell jangling and almost colliding with the shelf behind it.

Seymour flinched, first at the noise and then out of fear for the plants, but the door stopped just short of hitting anything.

“Hey, you!”

It was Audrey’s new boyfriend who stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he crossed the threshold and stopped in the middle of the room. Seymour had talked to him only once, and had seen him through the big shop windows many times. From these encounters, Seymour had drawn two conclusions.

Firstly, he did not like Orin Scrivello. Secondly, Orin was the last person Seymour wanted to be around when he was this close to regressing.

“Hello,” Seymour managed. Anything further refused to come out of his mouth. At least the greeting had sounded fairly normal.

“I’m lookin’ for Audrey. You seen her, kid?”

Seymour shook his head hard enough that his hair fell into his eyes. He went to push it back and realized he was still holding the small pruning shears. He ended up awkwardly putting his hands back down.

“You sure you haven’t seen her? I went to her place and she wasn’t there.”

Orin paced towards the counter, hands coming up as if getting ready to grab, or hit, or-

Seymour dropped the shears and splayed his hands in the air, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. From the way Orin’s eyes travelled from the shears to Seymour’s face, Seymour wasn’t sure that he had made the right choice. The smile on Orin’s face was more dangerous than those white-knuckled fists.

“Got something to hide, kid? You seem a little jumpy.”

Orin’s pace slowed as he got within arm’s length of the counter, almost sauntering the last two steps as he reached out and slid the shears over to his side, holding them up to the florescent lights and inspecting the blades.

“N-no. I-I-” Seymour’s brain tripped over itself, leaving his mouth useless.

“I-I- spit it out, huh?” Orin mocked him, high pitched for a moment before breaking into an angry growl.

Seymour’s lips sealed themselves, and he shook his head again, trying to gesture with his fingers that he had nothing to say.

“Wise guy,” Orin said, and reached out to catch one of Seymour’s wrists, easily pulling it down onto the counter between them. Seymour heard himself gasp, and make a little noise of distress. It surprised him how quickly he’d become completely separate from the situation, with almost no control over his body. Orin was only an inch or so taller than him, but Seymour could offer no resistance to the grip around his wrist.

“Now let’s try this again.” Orin brought the gardening shears down on the counter, the tip splintering the wood beside Seymour’s thumb. “When I ask you where Audrey is, you tell me. She never goes anywhere besides her little apartment and this little store, so I know that you know where she is. So let me ask one more time. I’m lookin’ for my girlfriend. Have. You. Seen her?”

“No. No, no, no,” Seymour heard himself say. His voice was high and shaky and wet, and that was what made him realize that he had started crying. “M’sorry, m’sorry, no, no, please.”

“Oh, I like that word.” Orin grinned wider and his enjoyment filled the room, oppressive and suffocating. Seymour was choking on it, even as he feebly tugged against the other man’s grip. He was too small for this, too small to understand what was happening or try to plan a way out through the blind panic that gripped him. “Say it again.”

“Please.” Seymour had no difficulty guessing what Orin wanted to hear. He wished that he didn’t know, that he could feign ignorance or make some kind of prideful stand, but all he wanted was to get out and get downstairs to his safe little room where he could hide under the blankets and maybe never come out. Like a fungus that grew in the damp and darkness, something that never needed the sun. “Please, please, no. Le’go please.”

Orin clicked his tongue, a caricature of disappointment.

“Very nice, but still the wrong answer. Where’s Audrey?” Orin wrenched the shears out of the wood, splinters falling from the blades as he raised them again.

“I don’t know, please, m’sorry! Please!” Seymour’s words blurred together, and he could feel snot and tears on his face. The shame was a distant sensation, the fear so much closer and brighter. He put his other hand on the edge of the counter to try and push away from Orin’s grip, but the other man was strong.

Orin swung the shears down, and Seymour could see the arc of movement headed straight for the back of his hand, where it was pinned helpless on the table, the glint of metal and –

At the very last moment Seymour’s hand slipped free, sending him reeling back into the shelves behind the counter. He saw the shears bite into the table again, and then he was slumping to the floor, his knees refusing to hold him. The desk hid him from Orin’s line of sight and Seymour covered his face as well.

Maybe if I can’t see him, he can’t see me.

Maybe if I can’t see him, he can’t hurt me.

Seymour screwed up his eyes and wished and hoped that Orin would leave him alone, that he was done, that this whole day was over.

“I believe you,” Orin said. “See you ‘round, kid.”

The sound of heavy motorcycle boots crossing the shop floor, and then the gentle tinkle of the bell over the door as it opened and closed.

And then, silence.

Seymour slowly uncovered one eye, and peeked at the desk. There was no one there that he could see. Shakily, he got to a crouch and dared to look over the counter. No one in the shop, and no sign of Orin in the street. The shears were still buried in the wood of the counter, and Seymour was definitely going to get in trouble for that tomorrow.

Tears still rolling down his cheeks, Seymour carefully pulled himself to his feet and removed the shears from the counter, laying them down gently. He locked the cash register and put the key into his pocket, then tiptoed over to the door and locked that as well.

Seymour flipped the sign to ‘Closed’ and finally allowed himself to breathe. He took the steps downstairs one by one, holding onto the banister. Clumsy at the best of times, he didn’t want to fall and hurt himself any more. He was so, so tired of hurting.

In the basement (home at last), Seymour immediately dove for the bed and threw the covers over his head, rummaging in the pillow case to bring out his stuffed bear and crushing it against his chest. He cried for as long as he wanted to, until his eyes burned and his throat felt raw.

Someday, Seymour told himself, hugging his bear close. Someday I won’t live here with all these terrible people and all of this fear. Someday I’ll be somewhere cozy, and comfortable…. and green.  

[lovely-angst]

the first time they meet you

a/n: im trying things out with doing three quick fics with one prompt. lmk how you like it.

genre: fluff

pairing: bakugou x reader, hawks x reader, dabi x reader

summary: the first time he sees/meets you

word count: 1.6k

08.04.21

bakugou - coffee shop

it was a long, long day of patrol for bakugou.

he had so much on his plate that day from staying late the night before to finish some reports and then having to wake up early for his daily patrol—not to mention all of the inconveniences of catching and apprehending some wannabe villains.

thankfully, he was able to get off work by the time the had begun to set. golden hues decorating the evening sky as bakugou walked back towards his apartment.

his feet were sore and ached from being on his toes all day. all bakugou wanted to do was to relax in the comfort and silence of his home.

taking a seat on a short concrete block wall, bakugou pulls the mask up over his eyes to push his bangs back, allowing the subtle breeze to cool him down as he took a small breather from his exhaustion.

he didn't have the energy to do anything.

"dynamight?" a small voice calls out before bakugou turns his head in their direction. you stood a few feet away from him timidly, but a smile on your face as you gently approached the unapproachable male.

"sorry, i'm not doing any autographs or pictures right now," he mumbled out exhaustedly, but to his surprise, you shook your head. "no, i'm not here for that," you say before taking a step back to gesture towards the cafe behind you, "i was wondering if you would like to come in and i can quickly get you something to eat and drink?"

bakugou glanced over at the empty cafe before glancing back at you and back at the cafe.

"it was a shock to see you outside the cafe and you look really exhausted. it's the least i can do for you," you continue, "you don't have to worry about fans, i'm about to close the cafe right now, so no one should be coming,"

bakugou knew that he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself when his feet ached with every step and the tiredness was beginning to consume his body.

"fine, just this once," he answered, pushing himself up and off the concrete before following you, who beamed with happiness.

as you walked in, you held the door open for the pro hero before you stepped back out to grab the menu board before flipping the sign from 'open' to 'close', letting the door shut behind you.

"would you like some coffee? or do you prefer tea?" you question as you walk behind the counter, preparing a few things for him. bakugou sat down at one of the empty tables, glancing around at the peaceful and aesthetic atmosphere.

"tea," he states, "i'm not a big coffee person," you hum in response, "i'll get you one of our refreshing tea drinks then. i think you'll like it."

it wasn't long before you came back out with a thirst-quenching drink and a nice hearty little sandwich with it.

"i added a sandwich for you filled with healthy and light ingredients so it'll give you the energy to finish your day. i hope the drink is to your liking as well," you explain, listing out the different ingredients, "i'll be here cleaning up while you finish. take your time."

bakugou was very thankful for the sandwich if he was honest—he was starving, having skipped his lunch earlier. taking a bite of the sandwich, he noted the different textures and flavors that mixed well together. ontop of that, the drink was great by itself and even better with the sandwich.

his eyes drifted off towards you, who bobbed your head gently to the quiet background music of the cafe, moving in every which way to finish closing up your shop.

after quickly finishing off his small meal, he brought the dishes back to you and you happily accepted them, declining to accept any payment, "it's on me! you enjoying the meal is more than enough!"

"also, why not try stopping by during one of your early shifts for some coffee? relax and refuel before your long day as a hero?," you suggest with those bright eyes of yours.

bakugou couldn't help the slight lift of the corner of his lips, "i might just have to."

-

hawks - after a mission

hawks had just gotten done with a rather stressful rescue due to the many kids on the site he had to protect. thankfully he had all of his feathers and was able to use them to protect the kids while his sidekicks were busy securing the villain.

"are you kids okay?" hawks questioned as he was able to usher them into a safe corner away from the action. "i'm okay mr.hawks!"

hawks let out a small smile before patting the young child on the head. "where is miss (name)?"

hawks opened his mouth just as a soothing yet worried voice cut through the sirens and the commotion. turning around, hawks laid his eyes on you and his heart skipped a beat.

stepping aside from the kids, you ran over towards the children before kneeling down on their level to give them all hugs, checking them over for any injuries, "oh, i'm so glad you are all safe! i was so worried! are you okay? are you hurt anywhere?"

one of the little girls shook their head before pointing up at hawks, "i'm okay! mr.hawks saved us!"

turning around, you quickly stood up before giving him a very polite bow, "thank you so much, hawks! i am forever grateful!"

"no need to be so formal! i'm just doing my job," he responds with a smile, only for panic to set in when he sees the blood streaming down from your head. "miss! your head is bleeding, we need to get you checked out!"

"oh, i think this is from when I blocked the kids earlier from falling debris. i feel fine," you respond, which makes hawks worry even more.

hawks quickly calls for his sidekicks to stay with the children while he goes to get you checked up on. thankfully, there was a medical team nearby and hawks waited with you as they patched you up.

"again, thank you so much for saving my kids back there. I don't know what i would do if they had gotten hurt. you're an amazing hero." you compliment, sitting on the back of an ambulance as the medic carefully wraps your head to stop the bleeding.

"i could say the same about you," hawks starts, "you didn't hesitate to risk your life for those kids—you're the real hero. "

a shy smile forms on your lips as you look away from the very handsome man in front of you, "well, i love my kids. i'd do anything for them."

hawks couldn't help but admire you.

"i'm (name) by the way," you say, holding a hand out towards the hero. hawks smiles at you, reaching over to give your hand a firm shake.

"hawks. nice to meet you, (name)."

dabi - flower shop

dabi usually hated the rain, but today, he was thankful for it.

he had just escaped from some pro heroes and hid in a small alleyway in a quiet part of town away from any heroes. the cool droplets of water felt refreshing on his burning skin after overusing his quirk. though, he wasn't sure the injuries he sustained would heal quickly with the rain.

hearing a small bell ring, dabi quickly pressed himself up against the wall as he listened for any movement.

"ah it's raining!" a voice called out before their alarmed footsteps ran about, causing the puddles to splash every which way. suddenly, a pail of flowers fell into his view before you quickly bent down to pick them back up.

sensing someone staring, you turned and your eyes were met with his bright blue ones, causing you to squeak and fall back, "y-you scared me!" you cried before picking yourself back up and frowning at your dirtied outfit.

"hey, are you okay?" you asked as you carefully walked toward him. "you're bleeding! let me go get a medical kit," you explained before running around the corner to your flower shop.

but dabi knew better.

you were going to call the heroes on him, you only used that as an excuse to get away. standing up with all of the power he could muster, dabi limped his way down the street as far as he could—away from you.

"hey! where are you going!" you cried as dabi heard more splashes behind him, your small pitter-patters against the puddles.

turning around, dabi's eyes widened as he watched you chase after him in the rain, your hair getting wet with the rain and sticking to your face as you caught up with the male.

"let's hide from the rain over here," you say as you gently help dabi away from the rain before settling him down on a bench. "don't you know who i am?" dabi asked frustratedly, but you just continued to clean and dress his wounds. "sorry, i don't, but i can care less about that right now," you respond to dabi's surprise.

dabi watched as you carefully cleaned him up, watching the raindrops slide down your soft skin.

"that should do it," you say, standing back with a smile. dabi follows your movements, "thanks doll, but i gotta run," he responds, throwing his hood over his head.

"oh, well, stay safe then," you respond as the two of you enter back into the rain. he gives you a playful smile before vanishing from your view.

walking back to your flower shop to finish bringing your flowers back, you thought that would be the last of him. but to your surprise a few days later, tied onto the handle of your shop was a blue rose with a note attached,

'thanks for the other day, doll.

- dabi'

[angelguk]

→ on my mind 02 — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 25.6k

genre: domestic!au + established relationship + fluff + smut + mild angst

warnings: slow build / oral sex (f & m receiving) / multiple smut scenes / over-stimulation / breeding kink / creampies / mentions of infertility / pregnancy is a central part of the story line / pregnancy sex / jeongguk just wants to be a good dad / i am so sorry if the editing is not up to par i tried my best / mild possessiveness / mentions of misogyny and an asshole manager

soundtracks: (they long to be) close to you, carpenters + to you, yoona & lee sang soon + someone’s shining, wisue + who knew, chloe x halle, + but i’m trying to tell you how much i love you, saevom + pretend, lee aram + when the wind blows, yoona + meet me in amsterdam, rini + she, jannabi

special thanks to: @gukkheaven for seeing the baby version of this fic <3 / @a-life-thats-next-to-normal for sharing some much needed baby info with me!

header credit @dee-ehn <3

read the first part here

The first time you buy a test, you don’t tell him.

It’s a Thursday afternoon and you arrive home first. Jeongguk had texted you that he would be late today because Namjoon needed him to work overtime on a file that was due. You had taken the rare opportunity to scurry to your local chemist and purchase a handful of pregnancy tests. You’d dumped the pink boxes on the counter, trying in vain to avoid the blatant stare of the cashier as she packaged them into a small black bag. The trek back home nerve-racking. Your heart pounding painfully against your chest, the scruff of your sneakers against the pavement the only accompaniment to the tension you felt weighing over your body. It was only when you had passed a playground, eyes skimming over the hordes of children joyously dandling from monkey bars and slipping down sliders with wide grins on their faces, did your heart momentarily calm down. Lulled by the sound of their laughter until your pulse was relaxed once more.

You could do this — it’s just a test.

The apartment is eerily silent when you click the door closed behind you. You heel your shoes off, sliding your feet into the downy slippers Jeongguk had picked up for you a while back. You dump the bag on the dining table, hands shaking as you dig for your phone in your bag. Your fingers tap on the familiar pink app on your screen and you read the text that you’ve been subtly denying for the past week. Your period is late. Sometimes you miss a day or two but a whole nine days had passed and mother nature hadn’t sent you the usual reminder that indicated that you were not with child.

For some reason, the words sent a thrill through your body. It wasn’t like you were taking precautions to avoid pregnancy - quite the opposite. Ever since Jeongguk had admitted his secret wish to you, you’d both taken every opportunity to make sure you’d get knocked up. Most of the apartment had been rechristened during those activities, particularly the couch. The moment you’d told him you wouldn’t mind carrying his child a spark of desire had reignited in Jeongguk that you hadn’t seen since you started dating five years ago.

But for some reason, nothing was working the way you’d expected it to be. With Jeongguk’s new robust sex drive, you expected to be pregnant within a month tops. Yet, your period appeared each month without fail and it hurt to see the doubt creep onto his face every time he brought you a hot water bottle to lessen the cramps wreaking havoc in your stomach. For a while, you thought you were infertile. You considered taking up the issue with your doctor but it was hard to acknowledge that you may be. That either of you may be. Not when both of you wanted this so bad.

The fact that your period had been missing for a significant amount of time in your perspective was both thrilling and alarming at the same time.

When you finally pick up one of the pregnancy tests, you take your time, reading over the instructions. Three times exactly. One-line means not pregnant, two lines indicate that you are. Not hard, right?

In the bathroom, you struggle to pee. Your hand is trembling as you hold the collection cup and your flow is unsteady despite the two bottles of water you’d chugged on the train ride home once Jeongguk told you he’d be late. Things work out, regardless of your nerves.

Once everything is done, your hands are clean and the two pregnancy tests you’d unwrapped are sitting flat on the counter of your bathroom, you fiddle with the timer app on your phone, setting it to five minutes.

Those are the longest five minutes of your life.

You leave the bathroom, unable to look before the set time, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. You can’t sit, so you pace around, slippers slapping the hardwood floorboards as you try to attempt to calm yourself down but fail miserably at it because the clock hanging in the living room is ticking too loud; it echoes in your head matching the beats of the seconds you’re mentally counting down. Outside of your apartment, someone’s shouting a passing greeting across the street, there’s the tickle of a bike bell and a gruff woof echoing from the throat of a dog. The sounds of life outside the panic bubble you’re currently in draws you to the window. You pad over, lean down to rest your elbows against the sill as your eyes take in the sight of the evening sun dipping behind the silhouettes of buildings. The sky bleeds orange and red, bright fuchsia pink and cornflower blue trailing behind their wake like silage. The view is partially obscured by murky grey clouds but beyond them, you can still spot the lavender tone the two colours create when they flux into each other.

The sight slows down your heartbeat, a sense of tranquillity washing over your body as if you’d been dipped into the ocean. It reminds you of the sea view both of you had left behind when you’d moved to Seoul four years ago. You can’t help but slip into a reverie, nose full of the ghost-like remnants of salty air, the sand you’d played in as a child a phantom caressing the soles of your feet. The sunsets in Busan were better but Seoul is where Jeongguk and you had crafted life together, even if you sometimes wished you had never left your hometown at all.

The alarm going off in the bathroom yanks you right back into your quaint little apartment. You take a deep breath and then rise. Your knees wobble as you walk to the bathroom, a sheen of sweat building in the palms of your hands. The sudden urge to just get this over with steadies your steps until you’re standing before the counter again, staring at your reflection in the mirror. There are dark bags underneath your eyes and your face carries the worries of the day. You look worn and you feel it too. Coupled with the extra pressure of trying and failing to get pregnant, there’s so much on your back right now it feels as if it’s bent over. You sigh, eyes still refusing to falter and look downwards at the results on your counter.

It takes you a moment to gather the courage to pluck up the first test.

Your breath is trapped in your throat and your eyes suddenly feel hot and wet. Your vision blurs up and your hands are shaking but even despite the tears falling down your cheeks, you can see the results.

It’s one line. Negative.

The other one reads the same and all you can do is try to remember how to breathe as you roughly wipe away your tears. Your hands are trembling as you wrap up and dispose of the two tests, shoving them into the trash before you pile more tissue on top of it, wishing you could hide from the shame you feel too. The black bag with the other tests gets tucked behind your pads in the cupboard. Jeongguk won’t question that, so it's the safest place to store it.

You head to the shower next, allowing the rushing water to sweep away the dried tear stains on your face, hoping it erases the crushing feeling of disappointment sitting on your chest too. But it doesn’t and even as you move around the kitchen to make dinner, your actions seem slow, languid in a bad way, held down by the fact that no matter what you can’t seem to get pregnant.

Jeongguk knows right away something is off.

He came home late as he said he would, pressed a kiss to your cheek and muttered a small greeting before heading to the shower. When he emerged once more in grey sweats and a worn white t-shirt, he’d plopped himself down at the dining table, gave you a quiet once over and then opened his mouth to gently say, “Your eyes are red.”

“Bad day at work,” you lie, placing a bowl of rice before him.

“Seungmin?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You fall into a silence that should be comfortable but it isn’t. Every time you glance up Jeongguk is staring at you with a worried expression that makes your heart heavy. Even between bites of food, you can see his brain working, mulling over a way to make you feel better. Which sucks because Jeongguk shouldn’t be worrying about insignificant issues like this. He had a lot on his plate anyway. His extra hours at the office were taking a gradual toll on him. His eyes seemed hollower and he’d had to skip a couple of gym sessions so he didn’t even have his usual outlet for stress. There was a vein surfacing on his forehead and it pulsed every time he was thinking too hard about something. Like it was now. It hurt even more when you knew Jeongguk was putting all this stress on himself because he wanted to find a bigger place for his future family. The spare room you owned had long since been converted into his game room and he wasn’t about to give up that little luxury just yet. He was only taking on more responsibilities at the office because he believed that his future children deserve a place to run, play games, to just be a child. The image of the two negative tests linger before your vision and your heart breaks a little more because it feels like Jeongguk is working hard for something that’ll never become a reality.

He cleans up while you take your place on the couch. Even with the drone of the drama on the television and the clinking of dishes as Jeongguk washes up fills your apartment, you still can’t settle in and shake off the cloud that’s hanging above your head. When he does join you, Jeongguk lugs over the soft black blanket you’d whisked from Yoongi’s apartment, carrying his favourite bar of chocolate in his hands.

He shoves it in your direction, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Here, take this.”

“Why? It’s yours.” But you clasp your fingers around the plastic wrapping, the warmth of his lips against your skin ebbing through you.

He shrugs, shifting against you so that your legs are thrown over his and the blanket covers both of your bodies. Beneath it, his large warm hand searches for yours, latching around your fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze. “Take it. You said you had a bad day and chocolate always makes you feel better, doesn’t it?”

The corners of your mouth are lifting upwards as you tear the package open. It's mint flavoured. Jeongguk always had an affinity towards sweet mint flavoured things, and the chocolate melts on your tongue with ease. Slowly, the tension within you abates, your mind vaguely focusing on the screen before you, Jeongguk’s warm firm body burning beside you. You melt into him, breaking off pieces of chocolate and nudging them against his mouth until he parts his lips and allows you to drop them inside. His tongue trails against your fingertips despite the ‘gross’ you mutter into the evening air. All he does is laugh and pull you closer, brushing another swift kiss on your cheek. You settle against him, resting your head against the curve of his shoulder before the drama takes your attention. One of the characters had made a joke and the rise of Jeongguk’s chest beneath your head as he laughs calms you down so much that you can’t help but laugh too.

The evening winds down in this manner. Jeongguk unknowingly melting away the tension that had built up within you with each soft smile and laugh that he gives you as he talks about his day over the voices of the actors on screen. You listen intently, hoping you can take away some of his stress too until you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. He gently shakes you awake, taking your hand to guide you into bed where you promptly collapse between the sheets. You can hear his footsteps as he moves around, checking the doors and switching the lights off, but your mind feels foggy and your eyes are heavy.

When he settles in beside you, shirtless and having tucked away from the semi you don’t know he’s sporting, your breaths are slow and slumber is slipping over you. His arm finds its way over your waist and his chest is plastered against your back. You’re about to fall asleep, the dark deep wonders of rest right on the edge of your vision but you’re wiggling around, slotting the curve of your ass against Jeongguk’s crotch and that’s when you instantly wake up.

His erection is nudging against your ass and you can tell he’s still awake from the rise and fall of his chest behind you. He thinks you’re still sleeping because he doesn’t say anything, just trails a finger against the curve of your hips. The touch warms you even through the fabric of your pyjamas. But you’re suddenly on edge again, the negative tests flashing before your eyes. You were going to book an appointment with the doctor soon but would it hurt to try one more time before you did so? It really wouldn’t.

You wiggle against him harder, the growing curve of his cock against you eliciting a rush of slick from your cunt. When you grind into him, Jeongguk groans, a low rumble that slips from his throat. The grip on your hip draws taut. He knows you’re awake.

“If you keep doing that, we’re going to have a problem.”

You grin, hips still pushing backwards. “What if I’m willing to solve it?”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

You halt, ass still pressed against his crotch, the smile falling from your face and your arousal rapidly dissipating. Jeongguk’s pulling away before you can say anything, rising on his elbows so that he can look at you.

“I know Seungmin isn’t the reason why you were sad today. I saw the test boxes in the bathroom.”

It’s so quiet that you can hear the rush of blood filling your head. The tears you’d thought you’d run out of, reappear instantly, dripping down your cheeks. He wipes them away with a forlorn smile before shifting to wrap you in his warm arms. Your chest shudders with every breath you take but Jeongguk holds you together, whispering words of comfort against your ear.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He holds you a little tighter when you start to hiccup against the crook of his neck, rubbing a large hand against your back.

When you finally calm down, you pull away, cheeks wet, to find that Jeongguk’s own eyes are tinged red too.

“Were they negative?” You nod, still, a little bit choked up. But then he smiles and moves to press a tepid kiss between your eyebrows. “Stop stressing. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“Getting pregnant shouldn’t be this hard. All I have to do is open my legs.”

“Hey,” He pats your damp cheek in chastisement. “Stop talking like that. You don’t have control over your body. Don’t blame yourself for things you can’t help. For all we know, this could be my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault.” You mutter. “I just - we’ve been trying for three months now and I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“We could go get checked. Both of us.” He’s pulling you closer again. “Don’t blame yourself, baby. Please.”

“I’m trying not to,” you whisper back, falling back into the comfort of his body. Jeongguk is like a pillar of strength for you, particularly when you feel like you have none left within you. And right now you don’t. But he holds you up, his hands caressing your skin softly, pushing off the worries that plague. You fall asleep like this, eyes crusty from crying and Jeongguk’s loving gaze watching over your features.

The next day, you book an appointment and try to ignore the nervous thoughts gnawing at your conscience.

Your period comes three days later and all that does is build on to the new feeling of resentment that you were developing against your uterus.

Jeongguk buys you your favourite chocolate, keeps your supply of hot water bottles going, cook’s dinner and tells you to stop worrying.

→

The late August afternoon sun warms your back as your drag Taehyung through the lake. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck in a playful choke-hold and despite his wild thrushes you manage to dunk him into the tepid lake water — retribution for what he did to you earlier. He’d shoved you right into the lake from atop some boulders, leaving you shocked and with water filling your nose for most of the afternoon. Somewhere in the background, you can hear Seokjin screaming at his twins because they’re copying your actions on each other and Jimin is hiding Bora from the two homicides about to take place in broad daylight.

You let go of Taehyung when he elbows you roughly and watch him rise to the surface, face tinged rose, but a good-natured boxy grin plastered on his features.

“If Jeongguk wouldn’t be able to beat my ass, I would end you Y/N,” he says.

You roll your eyes, playfully punching his arm. “Sure you would.”

Taehyung’s grin broadens. “I’m tempted to prove you wrong but you should get the boys before they murder each other.” He says before shaking his head. The droplets that fly from his mane obscure your vision so you twist around, waddling through the water, just in time to catch Minho body slam Minjoon into the water.

“Minho! You’re going to kill your brother!” Seokjin sounds beyond distressed, so on his behalf, you swim further into the water, and pull the two boys apart only to find them grinning wickedly at each other. They had just turned five and had reached the age where morbid violence was amusing instead of alarming.

“Boys, can we find something else to play instead? You’re going to send your father to an early grave.”

“What’s a grave?” Minjoon inquires, clinging to your waist as you haul them back to shore. Taehyung’s already out, meandering back to the cabins that belonged to Jimin’s affluent family. It was his idea to have a quick weekend getaway at the lake. He insisted that the kids needed to go out and play in the wild but he wanted to get everyone out of the house. The stress from work and studies were taking a huge toll on the relations within your group. You’d seen Yoongi and Namjoon argue for the first time in a while and it had been over whether Marvel was right in killing off Tony Stark. Yoongi had nearly thrown a plate at Namjoon’s head when he insisted that Tony deserved to die. That alone instantly made you agree to Jimin’s plan. You had to pack for Jeongguk too since he was swamped with work, another reason why everyone needed this mini vacation.

The man in question is nursing a beer by the grill, a languid grin on his face as he chats with Namjoon. The smile on his lips sends a rush of affection flooding through your heart because you hadn’t seen it for a while now. What with your uterus refusing to do its duty and the workload he was dealing with; you were glad he was taking a break now. He deserved it.

“A grave is where people go and sleep for a very long time,” You carefully respond, running a hand through Minho’s wet hair. They both have Seokjin’s bright eyes and the curiosity within them slightly unnerves you. “You should go ask your dad, he can explain it better.”

They shot off at that, sprinting to their father who’d given you a grateful smile when you’d dragged them out alive. Unfortunately, he was now trying to feed his third son Chansook, who was a stubborn eater according to his wife Seoyeon and coupled with the insistent pestering from the boys you could see him slowly going mad.

Instead of helping, as you should, to diffuse the situation, you head towards the kitchen, snatching up an oversized t-shirt on the way there. Seoyeon’s dashing from place to place, checking pots and pans with the help of Jimin’s wife Bora and Namjoon’s wife Eunbi. Yoongi and Hoseok take it upon themselves to cook the near twelve-packs of ramen needed to feed all the mouths present. You leave them to it, aware that Yoongi makes his ramen in a specific manner and you’d rather stay away than help him in case you ruined it. Seoyeon shoves a chopping board and some vegetables in your direction which you gladly take, settling beside Soomi.

“Is Bora outside?” She asks, slicing up a melon.

“Jimin’s got her. She’s fine.”

“Surprised she hasn’t cried yet. She hates being away from home for long periods.”

“Three days isn’t long,” You comment.

“It is in her world,” Soomi remarks, her laugh gentle. You glance at her, taking in the new wrinkles on her face due to being a mother and working at the same time. You don’t know how she handles it, especially because Soomi inherited her father’s dramatic and clingy traits. But even despite the stress, there’s a soft smile on her lips. You know she’s thinking about her child. The whole concept of infinite love that a mother possessed for her children was still lost upon you. You loved Jeongguk to the Sun and back but the love lingering on Soomi’s face at the simple thought of her baby was entirely different. Some part of you longed to know what that felt like.

“Can I ask a question?” You carefully pose, slicing the radishes Seoyeon handed you earlier.

“Go ahead.”

“How long did it take for you and Jimin to conceive?”

“With his stamina,” she scoffs, “Not long at all. I was pregnant by the end of our honeymoon. Why are you asking?” Her eyes are on you, shining with curiosity eerily similar to the twins’ gaze.

“No particular reason. Just curious.”

“Are you pregnant?” Her blatant question has your cheeks heated and you pray the rest of the occupants in the kitchen didn’t catch what she said.

“No,” you hastily reply. “I’m not. But we are trying.”

“Oh.” Soomi’s staring at you with a gaze you can’t decipher. “You don’t want to get married first?”

“We talked about that. We’re in no rush for marriage. We’re both it for each other as far as we’re concerned and a piece of paper won’t change how we feel about it. So we’ll skip out on marriage for the time being. Our parents know how we feel about marriage too. Even if they don’t exactly agree, it’s our relationship.” You make your tone firm on purpose. This question has been posed to you too many times, so the defence in your words is natural. But the look Soomi gives you is sharp enough to crack through the thin glass that constructs your resolve. Her gaze isn’t mean, but there’s a clear judgement in her eyes. She pauses, a gentle sigh slipping from her lips before she slowly opens her mouth.

“If that’s what you want, then do it. But I have to warn you, kids do shake up the picture quite a lot. Soomi taught me so much about Jimin already, things I would never have known about him. Some of them I didn’t like and others I loved and I bet she’s shown Jimin things about me that I never knew too. It’s a lot to have a kid and you need to make sure your relationship can handle the extra stress and responsibility you’re about to put on it.” She’s not looking at you, instead focusing on tying up her dark locks in a neat bun, but her last words linger in your head. “Don’t do something that might push you further away from each other. You love Jeongguk, but will you love him as a father when he messes up? Because he will. You’ll mess up a lot too. Parenting is one big learning curve that never stops curving. Even if you feel ready, Y/N, your relationship might not be.”

You move to interrupt her, a rebuttal resting on your tongue. But Soomi halts it, shooting you a glance that makes your heart halt.

“Have you thought about the pregnancy too? How your body will change? The mood swings, the morning sickness? How crappy you are going to feel? And for nine months too. That’s a lengthy time. Even with Soomi I was counting down the days until I hit the next week. I wanted it over and done with so bad if I’m being honest with you. Every pregnancy is different; I understand that — you might even be lucky and have a great one. But most aren’t a walk in the park. It’s a big commitment to make, with a lot of serious risks. Not that I want you to reconsider your choice, I just think you really need to think it through. Weigh the reasons you want this. You may want a kid right now but are you in the space to have one in nine months? That’s just something to keep in mind, Y/N. It’s not an easy thing, pregnancy or parenting.” She’s staring at you hard now, gaze earnest. “I just want you to consider that. You should talk to Jeongguk about it.”

You mumble a noise of agreement, your heart suddenly heavy in your chest. There’s a numbness that creeps from there, in the pit of darkness that now consumes the light that had once resided within you. You cut the ingredients they had you absentmindedly, Soomi’s words ringing in your head.

Even when dinner is set, memories and laughter have been cast across the table and everyone’s had their fill, you’re still mulling over Soomi’s advice. She was right, you hadn’t thought about the toll a child would take on the connection between you and Jeongguk. Or on you. You’d only focused on the happy little moments that would await you as new parents instead of the rough, ugly parts of the journey. There was a sudden panic gripping your soul instead of the familiar warmth you’d become accustomed to when you thought about having a child. Jeongguk had sensed there was something off with you too, because when you climbed into the sheets that night he’d wrapped you in a tight embrace, carefully resting your head upon his upper arm.

“Care to share what’s on your mind?” His voice is a whisper in the dead of the night, breath warming your forehead.

“It's nothing really. Just thinking about… the whole pregnancy thing?”

His body tenses. “Oh... The doctor said we’re fine though. Both healthy and fertile. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“No. Not that,” you retort, twisting in his arms. You tear yourself away, rising upright, the blanket falling from your bare shoulders. Jeongguk stares at you, eyes wide open and full of alarm. “Jeongguk.” There’s a tremor in your voice. “Do you — do you really think we’re ready for kids? I still work under a shitty manager. We live in a small apartment. You’re — you’re working so hard it’s practically killing you. We’re not even married—”

“Quit your job.” He says it firmly, rising up beside you. There’s a fire in his eyes that riles you further into the panic that’s overwhelming you.

“What are you even suggesting? I quit my job? So what? You can continue working yourself to the bone? Are you even thinking?”

“I am!” He slams back. “You hate your job, so quit! You’re talented and skilled and you deserve to work at a company that appreciates you! And where is this coming from? You don’t want to have kids anymore?” His voice faltering at the end, pandering out into the air that’s filled with tension.

“No. I — I want to Jeongguk. I just don’t know if this is the right time. There’s so much that’s not settled, we shouldn’t be straining ourselves any further.” Your throat is thick and your head is hot, unshed tears brimming within your eyes. He reaches out for your hand, rough large palms enclosing your own. You can’t look at him, staring hard at the wall instead, trying to swallow your sadness. “Maybe I’m not getting pregnant for a reason.”

“Don’t say that.” His voice cracks. “If you want to wait, that’s fine. Just know that you’re the only person I ever want to take that step with. Whether we’re married or not. I love you. I love you so much. I don’t want you to be sad about something that’s meant to make you happy. We can stop trying.” There’s a hand on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the hot tears that you weren't even aware of. When you finally look up, there’s pain glimmering behind his brown eyes and it shatters your heart into thousands of little shards.

He holds you as you cry, rocking your huddled figure lightly. His shirt is drenched in your sorrow, a growing wet stain spreading over his chest. There are hiccups stuck in your throat when you finally draw away, eyes hot and puffy. There’s matching wet stains on his own red cheeks. You brush them away, staring into his red eyes, hoping he can feel how sorry you are for giving him hope that his deepest desire could come true and then snatching it right back,

When he kisses you, there’s silent tears still streaming down your cheeks. It’s slow, gentle. The words that are stuck in his throat are communicated through this kiss. Like he needs you to know it’s okay. Your worries are valid and even though he’s hurt, he still loves you. Still needs you. And you kiss him back with the same intent, your heart aching in your chest because Jeongguk had been so happy when you’d agreed to start a family with him. A life that wasn’t just about the two of you as individuals, it would have been about the two of you as one. But that’s no longer a reality, merely a castle in the sky now.

The pillow is soft beneath the dip of your head. Jeongguk’s above you and you hold onto him like you’re afraid you might lose him, your mouths still attached. You’re terrified this might push him away, that he might find someone else that can give him what he really wants. Someone who will trust his intentions instead of doubting him.

He pulls away, eyes glossy, a look in them that tells you he can feel the fear in your kiss, the desperation to keep him closer. “I’m here.” His voice is thick, still heavy with heartbreak. “You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

The urge to prove that makes your fingertips twitch. You’re yanking at the hem of his shirt, your heartbeat pulsing in your throat. It comes off immediately, followed by his shorts and your own t-shirt. He’s not hard but there’s a sizable bulge nudging against your clothed core. You pull him down, revelling in the way he caves you in, and kiss him until he’s grinding himself against you, little gasps spilling from his swollen lips. Your fingers are tangled in his long hair and even though you’re hurting your heart settles. This is yours. No matter what happens, this belongs to you.

Jeongguk must feel the same because he’s coaxing a dark bruise on your neck, the need to display his love for you making his tongue swoop across your sensitive skin, teeth nipping when a rush of desire slithers down his back. His hips move harder now and he’s leaking in his boxers, the damp stain of the fabric matching the one on your panties. The air still feels heavy, but your joined pants now fill it. There’s a hand on your hip, pinning you down to the bed and at some point Jeongguk had kicked the sheets to the floor. You’re at his mercy, taking the rough grind of his crotch against your own. There’s a sting on your clit from the material rubbing you the wrong way, so you gently push him off, slipping off your underwear. The cool air hits your slick folds, making you feel more exposed and vulnerable than you’ve ever felt before. He doesn’t say anything, just slips down your body, draping your legs over his shoulder, his warmth breath grazing your thighs.

The first lick of his tongue against you has your toes curling. You watch him spread you apart, firm tongue dipping into hole, toying with it before sliding back up to your clit. When his lips latch onto it, sucking it hard, your back lurches off the bed. The noises that fall from your mouth spur him on, tongue moving quickly now, alternating between precise quick licks and slower ones, tongue spread against your pussy. You take it, staring at him as he devours you. The usual fire you’d become accustomed to during sex doused from his eyes, the brown softer now, almost calm. But there’s an urgency in the way he eats you out, your slick coating his lips, as his tongue flicks against your clit.

It’s hard not to grind against his face, but you’re still holding yourself back, despite the rush of pleasure that’s creeping into every muscle, every nerve and piling in your gut. When his tongue swirls around your clit, before dragging down your folds and dips inside you hard, that resolve you were desperately clinging on snaps. You roll your hips against his mouth, back arched and your head pushing into the pillows. The knot in your gut is tight. You’re close, eyes closing involuntarily and your thighs twitching under the firm grasp of his hands. Jeongguk can tell because his tongue is against your clit once more, flicking hard, coaxing the orgasm out of you. You want to push his head away, the need to snap your legs closed making your thighs tense but he doesn’t care, fucking your clit with his mouth until you unravel beneath him.

It hits you slowly and then all at once. A build-up that has your squirming beneath him, trying to get away, then your muscles lock. Mouth wide open and words falling from your throat that you can’t decipher because there’s blood rushing in your ears. Your walls clench around nothing and you wish he’d slipped in a finger or two but then you glance down, Jeongguk still lapping at your pussy with vigour, his eyes on you and your whole body just dissolves. Your bones feel like they’re melting into each other, eyelids heavy but you force them open and lock them onto his. When you finally muster the strength, you push his head away and drag him up to you, slotting your lips together. He tastes like you, and you’re fully aware of his erection, the bulge grazing against your sensitive nub.

He cups one of your breasts as you kiss, his thumb brushing against your hard nipple. You jolt, a sudden rush of wetness gushing from your cunt. Your hands trail down his body without thought, gingerly digging into the band of his boxers but then he’s pulling away, mouth latching onto your nipple and your brain short wires for a second. The drag of his tongue against your chest makes your gut feel strange, another knot settling despite the orgasm you had moments ago.

He comes up, mouth shiny with your slick and your chest heaving beneath him as he stares at you in a way that makes your heart seize. “I love you too.” It hits you then, what you’d been repeating when he was going down on you. You said you loved him. And it’s true - you do. You love him so much it hurts sometimes. It’s the most overwhelming, intense emotion you’d ever felt. It makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode sometimes. And even though you’re not sure you can give Jeongguk what he wants anymore, those words lessen the worry and guilt you feel. He loves you. That’s all that matters.

His boxers find their way to the ground when your lips latch onto each other again and then he’s guiding himself into you, groaning against your mouth as you squeeze down on him. It’s slow, his hips rising and falling onto yours in a steady rhythm, cock stretching you out. It feels so good and you let go now, moaning into his ear as your hands settle on his hips urging him into you, faster and harder. Jeongguk complies, your name stuck on his lips as he fucks you into the mattress, the curve in his stomach telling him he’s close. You clench around him, loving the way Jeongguk feels buried inside you, filling you up like no one else can. You’re tight and wet and he can’t help but lift your hips, grasping the back of your thighs so that he can pound into you the way he wants too. He’s hitting deeper now, the curve of his cock rubbing against that part of you that has delicious tingles vibrating through your body. It’s heady, the way he fucks you. You can feel him twitching, thrusts in precise, the need to cum driving his hips. When he moves to pull away, you push his hips back down.

“I — oh,” He says, breathless when you squeeze around him, ribbed velvet walls clenching on his veiny cock. “I’m close.”

“Inside,” you murmur, “Cum inside.”

He stares at you, eyes glimmering. But his hips come slamming back down hard and he fucks you like he never wants to leave your cunt. It’s exactly what you want and you’re not worried. After three months of trying what could happen now? So you let him have his way with you, his harsh thrusts bruising your hips. His own falter against you, warm cum spilling inside. Jeongguk’s panting beside your ear, your sweaty skin sticking together. His hair is dishevelled, ruined and damp. But there’s a soft smile on his face and when he pulls out, cum making your thighs feel grimy. He pecks your nose gently. It makes your heart calm. Then he rises, moving to the bathroom and returning with a wet cloth. He cleans you up in silence but it’s content, not tense. Your eyes are closed when he slips into bed again, the mattress dipping under the weight of his knee. He drags the sheets he’d plucked from the floor over your body and you burrow into his side, the thrumming of his heart in his chest a serene euphony to your ears. You fall asleep like this, the melancholy that was weighing over your heart temporarily subsided.  

→

There’s a faint ding from your phone. You pick it up, sliding down the notification bar to see a reminder from your period app. You’re three days late. You choose to ignore it, tossing the phone back onto your desk because there’s a file you urgently need to complete. Seungmin’s been breathing down your neck about it. Coupled with the fact that Jeongguk’s birthday is next week and you’re still trying to plan his party out, your brain felt like it was about to combust. Your period is probably late because you were stressed. Jeongguk had been swamped with work too and after the mini holiday at the lake house you’d barely seen him. So obviously, it’s stress.

You leave the office late, putting down a reminder to book an appointment with your doctor in your notes app as you exit the building. You’d been mulling over going on birth control for a while now. It seemed like the most logical approach. Partially because you’d grown accustomed to feeling Jeongguk’s cum inside you and also because you thought it was better to wait a little bit until you were both more settled and ready for kids. Some part of you still longed to have them now but Soomi’s words haunted your thoughts every time the idea popped into your head. You had no doubt that you loved Jeongguk but the negatives of parenting heavily clouded over the pleasant scenarios you’d imagined.

The apartment is empty when you get home. You shower first and then head to the kitchen, your phone in your hand. There’s a text from Jeongguk telling you he’ll be late. He’s close to a promotion thanks to all his hard efforts even if it means you spend less and less time together. You settle on starting dinner, so that he’ll have something warm to eat when he comes home. He was notoriously bad at remembering to eat enough while working late.

When you’ve finished cooking, you settle into the couch, laptop open on some random show so that you have background noise as you eat. But it’s not enough to entertain you and you find yourself swiping through your phone. You scroll through Instagram feed, pausing over a picture of Yoona’s new-born. He’s a cute baby even with all the wrinkles and scrunched up face. His name is Jonghyun and Yoona hadn’t been able to stop talking about him. Baby this, baby that. It was cute, her unadulterated love for her child. Even when he puked over everything and refused to sleep.

Your heart feels heavy now, ears focused on the incessant ticking of the clock instead of the chattering of the actors on your screen. The memory of your first time taking a test comes stinging back hard. How nervous you were, how disappointed you felt when it was negative. It all seemed like wishful thinking now but something about it had you sitting upright, empty bowl discarded on the coffee table and your laptop nearly tipping onto the floor. You open the app again, stare at the three days’ late notification and then run to the bathroom.

The tests are still packed in the black paper bag. Your rummage through it, yanking out three in your trembling fingers tips. For some reason, it’s easier this time. You pee, dip them in the cup and leave them lying horizontally on the bathroom counter in what feels like seconds. Your heart pounds every step of the way. There’s no way you’re pregnant. It wouldn’t make any sense. Your legs jitter when you sit back onto the couch and everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. Or are you just moving really fast? You can’t tell, setting a timer on your phone before pressing your palm against your heart, trying to calm the drumming against your ribs. Time goes quickly and there’s a familiar buzzing signifying that your results are ready. You can’t walk. You don’t want to walk. It would be better not to know. But what’s the harm in knowing when you already know they’re negative. It’s just a confirmation. You’re not pregnant.

When you finally rise, your breath is shaky and your legs feel like logs as you drag yourself to the bathroom. The counter beckons you towards the tests, bright white light shining down upon them.

Two lines. On all three tests. Positive.

You can’t breathe. Your hands are shaking so much and suddenly the floor feels closer than it should. Your heart threatens to burst from your chest and there’s blood roaring in your head. You steady yourself against the sink, chest heaving beneath the loose shirt that you're sure belongs to Jeongguk. It feels surreal. The harsh light of your bathroom is hurting your eyes but you keep staring at the tests, the new information sinking in slowly. Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of your stomach, how the band of your underwear digs into the flesh of your hips. You can’t think about anything else because it hits you then. What those tests mean apart from the positive two lines, you keep blinking at.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

→

The first person you call isn't Jeongguk. It isn't your mother either or Yoona.

It's Soomi.

She picks up on the fourth ring, mumbling a hello that you struggle to hear over the sound of Bora whining in the background.

“Bora! Sit down!” Soomi’s not focused on your conversation yet. Her voice is tight, clear irritation radiating through her words. Something hits the floor and there’s a shrill echo of Bora’s cries ringing through the line. Soomi sighs heavily. “Give me a second. I’ll call you back.” And then the line goes dead.

Is that your future? Is that what you really want?

For some reason you’re crying. There’s a hot heaviness in your eyes that throbs dully in your skull, the coming of a headache. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, the lump in your throat making it hard for you to speak. Why did you even call Soomi in the first place? You can’t remember why the panic you’d felt had driven you to dialling her number. Especially when she planted that seed of doubt in your head in the first place.

When she rings again, you’re tempted to decline the call. Soomi would even question why you’re telling her first instead of your mother or Jeongguk. But you don’t know what else to do right now. You can’t just throw all the tests away and act like this isn’t happening. There’s a being developing inside you right now. A person that is both you and Jeongguk. And quite frankly you’re terrified.

“Hey, sorry for that. Bora’s started throwing tantrums now. I just had to talk to her.” She sounds exhausted.

You nod, realizing a second later she can’t see you. “Uh, yeah.” Your throat is clogged. “It’s fine, don't worry.”

“How are you then?” There’s a click of a door closing behind her.

“Um…” You can’t say it out loud, the words crawling back down your throat. Soomi’s quiet down the line, like she can feel the fear in your hesitation.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

You still can say anything, a tremble in your fingers that you can’t control. “I’m…” She waits, patient, and you know her eyebrows are furrowed together like they usually do when she’s concerned.

Wouldn’t it be easier to just say it all at once? Rip it off like a bandage? You settle for that, forcing the rushed sentence out of your mouth. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?” You open your mouth again but Soomi beats you to it. “You’re pregnant?” There’s an incredulity there like she’s still trying to process what you’d said. At least you are in the same boat.

“Yes,” You reply, finally stepping out of the bathroom. The tests are shoved far into the back of the cupboard. You’d taken care to store the boxes away too instead of dumping them into the trash. But now you long to sit, and the couch seems incredibly inviting. It’s weird to crawl under the blanket, knees curled into your stomach. There’s a life blossoming there. A whole life.

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” She’s practically vibrating down the line and her happiness has you pausing. Why is someone else more excited for your pregnancy than you? “How far along are you? Does Jeongguk know yet? I’m so happy for you!”

“...I don’t know how far along I am. I just found out.” Your voice is monotone in comparison to her bubbly questions. She catches on quickly, falling silent at the lack of joy in your tone.

“Oh. Are you alright? Weren’t you trying for kids?” Now she’s confused, hesitant to be happy when you’re not. The problem is, there’s a small part of you that’s elated. Finally, after all that time, here’s what you wanted. Handed to you on a silver platter. But you’re too wary of it all right now. There’s ominousness creeping into your beautiful vision of a family, staining the picture dark. What if this rips you apart? What if it makes you hate Jeongguk? What if this is the wrong time? What if you’re a shit mother? There’s too much worry looming over parenthood. And it’s sitting on your shoulders.

The tears reappear, dripping down your cheeks fast.

“We stopped,” You croak out.

“Oh.” Soomi’s silence leaves your head throbbing. You know why you called. For reassurance. Someone needs to tell you it’s going to be okay. Not Yoona. Not Jeongguk. Not your mother. Soomi was the only one who could provide the reassurance you desperately needed. “Y/N, are you happy?” She asks a heartbeat later, like she knows your thoughts.

You hiccup. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel or what to do.”

There’s a small hum from her lips. “Okay. How about you get a glass of water first. Anything you want to drink.” She’s right. Your hiccups keep interrupting her and they’re uncomfortable. You leave the phone on the couch, returning after you’d chugged some water. “You’re back,” She sounds relieved, sighing through the line. You mumble a sound of affirmation, digging your cold feet under the fluffy blanket. “Remember what I said about parenthood?”

“Yes.” Of course you do, you hadn’t forgotten a word she’d said.

“I know I mentioned all the negative things but I don’t want you to lose sight of all the little wonderful things. Having a child is both a blessing and a nightmare — and I know it sounds hypocritical of me to be talking about all the nice things that come with being a parent when I just had an argument with my daughter, but I promise you, there’s so many moments that you’ll cherish during this part of your life. It’ll change a lot, some for the worse, some for the better. But it’s worth it. So worth it.”

You stay silent, shuffling in the cushions. There’s an urge to touch your stomach and you give into it, feeling the warm skin beneath your palm that’s going to stretch out, making room for the child within you.

“You know,” Soomi continues, a waver in her voice. “I cried the first time Bora could walk without support from either of us. She wasn’t that big and I was so proud of her but it felt like my baby was getting too old already. And now I can hardly get her to sit down.” She laughs softly. The memory she’s shared warms you. You can see it now, the tiny little feet, the unsure steps. “You know that’s waiting for you, right? With Jeongguk’s energy, that kid will never be able to stay still.”

And then you’re smiling, an easy one that tugs at the corners of your mouth. The pads of your fingertips trail along your stomach. “He’ll be so happy,” You murmur. There’s not even a slight bump but you already feel different, now that you’re aware.

“I know he will. I saw him staring at all the kids when we were at the lake house. He really wanted this.”

You hum again, but the mention of the lake house makes you heart break. “I told him I wanted to stop trying then.”

“Really? Why? If I may ask.”

You want to say it’s because of her, but you bite your tongue. Soomi may be a bit harsh sometimes but she was a sweet person and didn’t need to have that held over her head. “Just rethought it.” You settle for that instead. “Wasn’t sure if I was ready for parenthood just yet.” She’s quiet, like she can tell it was because of her.

“Are you happy, Y/N?” She asks again, not addressing the elephant in the room

You pause to think about her question. Really think about it. Jeongguk would be ecstatic. Over the damn moon. Yoona’s been nudging you to join her in this next stage of life and your parents would be overjoyed too. And you? What are you feeling?

“I’m happy.” There’s a sense of surety there. No matter what happens, you longed for this just as much as Jeongguk has. It’s a blessing. Even if it’s hard at the end of it all, it’s worth it. “I’m really happy.”

Soomi’s voice has a lilt in it. “I’m glad for you. You know it’s going to be okay. Jeongguk loves you too much to ever let either of you go.”

“I know,” You mumble, gaze on the door. “Do me a favour, don’t tell anyone yet.”

“Of course! My mouth is shut. Call me if you need anything, love. I need to check on Bora before she puts herself in danger.”

“Hmm, alright. I’ll call. And thank you Soomi.” You’re warm all over, skin buzzing with an emotion you can decipher.

“Anytime. I need to run. If you need a good doctor, I can refer you to one!”

“Thanks, I’ll let you know. Bye Soomi.”

It settles in when the line cuts, the feeling in your bones seeping into every limb. You are pregnant. There’s a miniature version of you and Jeongguk sitting inside your uterus. Evidence of your devotion to each other. Your love. You can’t stop touching your stomach beneath the safety of the blanket, the sheer wonder of it all still lost on you. Then Jeongguk is pushing the door open, and your hand drops from your abdomen. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, tie loosely pulled from its knot and there’s a glow in his brown eyes. You haven't seen them shine like that in months.

He toes his shoes fast and then he’s launching into the living room, a grin on his face that reaches your heart.

“Hello, my love. What’s got you so happy?" You tentatively ask. Jeongguk doesn’t reply, instead tackling you into the couch, firm arms wrapping around you. He holds you tight, this face buried into the hollow of your neck. You can feel his smile on your skin and your heart keeps fluttering. A wild butterfly caged in your chest.

“I got the promotion.” The alcohol reaches your nose then, remnants of his celebration still on his tongue. The words you want to share dance on your own tongue. But you keep them in check. Not now. You know when you’ll tell him. Soon, but not now.

“Really! I’m so proud of you. You deserve it, baby. You’ve worked hard.” You say into the tuft of his dark hair. He sighs against you, heart drumming against your chest. Content. “Let me warm your dinner. I’ll spoil you tonight.”

“I can think of other ways you can spoil me,” He grins, shifting so he can cup your chin, gently pulling you closer. You give in because you long to kiss him too. Have the surety of his warm mouth against yours, feel that love echo when you slip your tongue against his. He tastes like soju. But you brush it off, it’s probably not bad for the baby anyway. It’s not like you can tell him to stop and google whether this is safe for you. He’ll ask and you’re not ready to share this with him just yet. So you let Jeongguk push you onto the couch, mouth still latched onto yours. It’s easy to let go, lose yourself in his touch for a bit. Because it’s Jeongguk. The love of your life, the person who keeps you grounded, your best friend, and now the father of your child.

→

Soomi keeps an eye out for you at the party. She quietly orders virgins with you and the only person who seems to catch on is Jimin who keeps staring at her stomach with fear. But no one else is concerned, too busy exchanging stories over the table, their glasses clinking every once in a while. Taehyung keeps the liquor flowing, racking up a bill that’s going to bite your wallet. But you’ll let it slide for tonight — after all it is Jeongguk’s birthday.

The man in question is glowing, a never ending smile gracing his cheeks. The promotion at work came at the perfect time. He’s on a high, radiating pure unadulterated happiness. His joy spills over onto you and you can’t help but stay beside his side all night, eyes locked on his bright face. The laughter of your friends feeds the love blossoming in your heart and it positively combusts with joy when that sheepish smile creeps onto his face when everyone sings to him ‘happy birthday’. You leave the restaurant late; stories still being shared in the parking lot despite your friends halfway into their cars. Soomi sends you a wink as you carry Jeongguk towards the car and you catch the suspicious glance Jimin sends the two of you. They’ll have an interesting discussion later, you bet.

Jeongguk lets you drive, still woozy from the shots Taehyung urged down his throat. He doesn’t question that you hadn’t drank anything. You’d had a few bouts of morning sickness since you’d found out so avoiding alcohol in this situation was logical. Jeongguk thinks you’ve got a stomach bug. He accepted that explanation so easily, not remembering the last time you’d had unprotected sex. The ride home is content and quiet, Jeongguk cuddled within himself in that passenger seat. He’s beyond happy and it’s evident in the fond gentle glances he’s giving you. You pretend to not notice them, vibrating hard in your seat from the nerves wreaking havoc in your guts. Your fingers tap incessantly on the driving wheel, an accompaniment to the drumming of your heart.

You’ll tell him tonight.

The package is already at home, hidden in your underwear drawer. It's simple enough. A white ribbon tied neatly over the thin velvet black box and within it a positive pregnancy test, placed neatly inside a plastic zip bag, the cap on the tip on.

You’d thought about how you wanted to tell him over and over again but this seemed like the best idea. It’s not extravagant or dramatic and yet, for some reason you’re still so nervous.

When you kill the engine, your car now nearly slotted in the underground packing of your apartment, the silence is replaced by your rapid heartbeat. You turn to find Jeongguk staring at you, doe like eyes glimmering in the harsh glow on the parking lot lights. His mouth is turned upwards, cheeks flush from the alcohol in his system. Before you can say anything, distract yourself from your nerves, Jeongguk’s tugging off his seatbelt and leaning into your space, mouth moving onto yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that has you buzzing like you’re a teenager again, falling in love for the first time. He keeps a warm palm on the nape of your neck, deft fingers gently pressing into the sensitive skin there. You can’t help but curve into his caress, moaning quietly against his warm lips. When he pulls away you move to chase for it. He stops you by pecking your nose, leaving you blinking at him, hands clenched in your lap.

“Thank you for tonight. I love you,” Jeongguk murmurs against your forehead, fingers weaving towards your own seatbelt. He unbuckles you quickly, hands now on your waist as he urges you into his lap. You clamber on top of him, mindful of the gears that hit your knees. It takes a while to settle but when you do Jeongguk holds you to his chest, fingers running along your side. Your heartbeat is in your stomach now and you long to blurt it out. He catches your mouth against his before you can say anything, tongue coaxing you open. You kiss because if you try and reply to his statement now you’ll end up crying.  You don’t know how long to stay like this, making out in the basement of your apartment building like teenagers trying to hide from prying eyes. It’s nice until your hip starts to hurt from the uncomfortable position.

“Let’s go inside. I have a present for you.” You’re breathless in his arms, mouth wet from his lips against you. Jeongguk quirks an eye at that, shifting so that his crotch brushes against your stomach.

“Really? What kind of present?” He asks it slyly, hips rolling against you. You reward his bluntness with a smack on his shoulder, before opening the car door. “Ow! You can’t hit me, it’s my birthday.”

“Hurry up or you won’t get your present,” you reply, slipping off of his lap.

“Not far.” He whines, but he gets out anyway, shutting the door behind him.

“I don’t care.” You say, smiling back at him. “It’s a good one I promise.”

The questions start there and Jeongguk doesn’t stray far from you as you head towards your apartment. He keeps a palm pressed against the small of your back, pulling away only to give you space to open the door. Inside he latches himself onto you again, dropping kisses along your neck until you gently push him on to the couch.

“Wait here. Let me get the present.” He stares after your retreating figure when you head for the bedroom, curiosity making him finally stay silent. You return with a small black box and his mind starts guessing. A tie? The box isn’t big enough. A toy? What toy is that small? A pen? Why would you give him a pen?

He accepts the box cautiously, fingers immediately tugging at the white ribbon knot. He can feel your eyes on him as his fingers close around the lid. It makes him pause, gaze flickering towards your face because he isn’t sure what this is at all. Then he yanks the lid off, vision landing on the object within the box.

It takes him a moment to realise it’s a pregnancy test.

“Are you serious?” His hands are quivering but he plucks up the plastic bag that contains it anyway, dropping the box to the ground. His eyes are on you and there’s tears welling within your own. Jeongguk’s head feels hot and his chest is too small, heart widely slamming into his ribs. “Are you actually serious? You’re pregnant? You’re pregnant!” The smile that breaks onto his face makes you laugh with joy and all you can do is nod your head. Jeongguk moves so fast from the couch, wrapping his arms around in. Your chests are pressed against each other, hearts communicating through rapid thumping. He keeps murmuring it against your ear, like he can’t believe just yet.

“You’re actually pregnant. Oh my god. We’re having a baby.” He’s trembling in your arms and when he pulls away to look at you, you hold him steady. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes your heart stop and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft and sweet but there’s an urgency with every press of his lips against yours, one that you feel too. You long to have him closer, fingertips already digging into the fabric of his shirt. It should be off on the floor right now. Jeongguk groans into your mouth when your hands slip underneath the fabric. He’s practically levitating right now. It’s impossible for him to get any happier. And then a thought hits him so hard he’s left breathless when he pulls away from your lips.

“I’m going to be a father? Holy shit — I — you’re actually pregnant?”

“Yes, Jeongguk.” The shock on his face makes you giddy. You gesture to the test still clutched in his hand. “I really am.” You catch the wonder that whispers in his eyes when he glances at the test once more.  And then he’s on you, hands settling on your waist as he kisses you like you’re oxygen and he’s drowning. His erection keeps nudging against your stomach and the movement has you dripping instantly, panties sticking to your core. When you naturally roll against him, you don’t expect Jeongguk to pull away.

“What? What’s wrong?” He swipes his tongue over his rose lips, looking abashed. His eyes are still glued to your stomach.

“Shit — sorry. I didn’t mean to rub against you like that.”

You blink at him. Hard. Was the man who literally fucked a baby into you apologising for rubbing his erection against you? Really?

“Jeongguk,” You begin, attempting to sound patient. “Are you not going to sleep with me this whole pregnancy?”

“Can we do that though? Have sex? It won’t put the baby at risk?” He’s genuinely concerned, a hand coming out to brush against your tummy.

“I’ll be fine, Jeongguk. The baby’s only five weeks anyway.”

“You sure?” The warmth of his hand against you has you radiating, glowing bright like a star in the middle of the dark galaxy. You try not to preen under his attention, but the concern colouring his honey eyes makes your heart ache with fondness.

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” You try to hide that emotion with a nonchalant roll of your eyes. He notes it with a gentle scoff, the palm on your hand stills though.

The firmness in his voice makes your cheeks warm. But then he glances at you again. “You’re not tired? You don’t want to sleep?”

“Jeongguk, I suggest you take advantage of my libido before it disappears. You’ve already put a baby in me, what’s stopping you now?” He must read the irritation in your voice well because he stops being coy and settles a hand on your hip to pull you closer.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” He murmurs against your ear before easily lifting you up. The grin tugging at your lips is blissful, the feeling of Jeongguk’s sturdy arms guiding you to your bedroom licking at the flame in your core. You cling onto him, giggling in time with his slippers faintly pattering against the floorboards. You don’t know how he flicks on the lights in the room but he does so without letting you go, the smile curving at his own lips pressed against your chest.

Your back touches the mattress gently, the act tender in itself. The look Jeongguk gives you makes your heart flutter, a soft warmth building in your gut has his hands wander across along your body, pausing at your waist which he clutches firmly. He fits perfectly between your spread legs, the silk dress you'd donned for tonight hitched up your thighs, revealing spans of skin that Jeongguk keeps staring at. His eyes roam over your body, glittering in a manner that makes your fingers itch to close the distance between your bodies. You can't help but stare at back him, a stupid grin on your lips because this is really all yours. He's yours and you love him. And he loves being yours too. You can tell it by the way Jeongguk leans down, slotting his lips against yours, his body pressed firmly into you. The twitch of his clothed cock against your core has you groaning into his mouth, the sparks that journey across your skin from every slight touch he gives your body intoxicating. Your hands are on him a beat later, slipping into his soft brown curls. When your nails scrap against the nape of his neck Jeongguk shivers, a minute movement that has his hips driving harder into yours. The grip that lands on your bare thighs triggers an arch in your back, lining you perfectly against him. There hasn't been an exchange of words yet but you can feel it in every roll of his hips, in the way his lips slip down to your neck, painting purple and blue marks along your skin and in the way he glances at you when he finally pulls away, petal lips bruised and a glaze in his honey eyes that makes you want to do dangerous things.

"I love you." There's another kiss on your lips. His hands are in your underwear, fingertips toying with your wet folds. "I love you so much. So much." Another kiss and an expert flick against your clit. You think your heart might burst. It feels too full of adoration, bruising your ribs with every erratic thump inside of your chest. You just tug him closer, directing his mouth towards yours again and kissing him hard enough to leave a print of your ardour for him on his lips for eternity.

"I love you too." You mumble it into the air, the sentence soft and warm, containing all the adoration you feel towards him. Jeongguk beams, brighter than the sun. Your love for him blinds you but you don't mind it. No one has ever made you as happy as Jeongguk has. No one has ever made you feel like Jeongguk has. You love him so much that it hurts. And you know he loves you just as much too.

It comes easy, the way your clothes fall off your body as he kisses you. Suddenly your bare bodies in a bed, the desperation in your touches heady. He leaves you breathless when he finally settles himself between your legs. The first lick of his tongue against your dripping core has your hands balling into the sheets. Jeongguk doesn't wait for you to register the feeling of his mouth against your cunt. He hikes your legs over his shoulders, tongue slipping deep into your cunt. You jolt from the intrusion but Jeongguk pins you down, grip firm as he forces you to take every deft swipe of his tongue against your pussy. He knows how to unravel you, and he does so quickly, not holding back anything as he licks you open, groaning deep into your cunt. It's the little sighs that do you in, the mumbles of praise that he murmurs into you that spark something in your gut.

"Jeongguk." It's hitting you fast, a tremble in your thighs that you can't control spreading warmth throughout your body.

He hums, parting from your cunt with his mouth covered in your need. It gives you a moment to breathe, but then he plants a kiss on your folds and you feel your brain melt into mush. "You taste so good," Jeongguk murmurs, before swirling his tongue around your clit - a skilled motion that elicits a rush of slick from your core. "So fucking good," he reiterates, despite you protesting squirms, the hands on your hip unforgiving. And then his tongue is back inside of you, fucking you open with a vigour that leaves you heady. There's nothing that can stop your fingers slipping into his hair, nails scraping his scalp with how hard you grip at the locks on his head. Your hips rise subconsciously, grinding his face into your cunt and slipping his tongue deeper and deeper until you feel it snap. He reads your body too well, the heave in your chest enough indication that your high is hitting you. And just before it does, his tongue is on your clit, licking at the sensitive bud the way he knows you like it. It happens all at once, a heat bursting through your system and your thighs suddenly begging to be clamped shut. But Jeongguk keeps them open, laving at your core as you shudder beneath him, vision blank and your nerves tingling with pleasure.

The waves barely subside, but you force your eyes to focus, the gentle press of Jeongguk's lips on your cunt making your toes curl. When you glance down, gaze floating over Jeongguk finally departing from between your legs, your heart bursts. His face is flushed rouge, a pretty tint over his golden skin, and his curls are tumbling into his face mussed from your fingertips racking through his hair. Even from here you can see how hard he is, straining against the fabric of his boxers, the print of his cock reigniting a fire in your gut that blazes through your nerves straight to your core. He notes the direction of your gaze with a loop-sided grin before he's descending onto you, trapping you within his sturdy arms. His mouth is on yours a second later, tongue slipping against yours. The groan that melts down your throat has your heart thumping, and your hands travel down his back, yanking him down until his crotch is pressed right against your own. You like the way you taste on his tongue, and it shows by how you kiss him, lips eager for more and more. The moment wraps itself around you, needs forgotten for a moment as you learn each other through your kisses all over again. It leaves you breathless, a tiny sigh drifting from your mouth when you finally part, and the look in Jeongguk's dark eyes evoking a thrill through your system. It's the instinctual thrust of his hips into yours that has the mood changing, like a trigger has been set off because suddenly you're needy, pawing at him until he gives in. You can feel him against you, twitching into your heat, the damp spot building on the fabric a result of both of your desires. There's a chaste kiss along your neck, Jeongguk slowly working his hips into you, but the pulse inside of your core demands for something more. Your fingers tug at the band of his underwear, impatient as you push down the fabric. He just laughs, mouth pressed into the hollow of your neck, hips raised to assist in your ministrations. It takes some wiggling before they're off, discarded someone off the edge of the bed.

"Aren't you needy — oh fuck." Your hand is wrapped around his length; the twists you give around him shallow but you know him well enough to know where to apply pressure. It doesn't take long from Jeongguk to crumble into you, the breaths against your neck shallow and quick and his cock leaking all over your hand. He feels good like this, thick and velvet-like against your palm, a weight you ache to have in your mouth. But then your walls flutter, clenching on nothing as Jeongguk groans into your shoulder, his hips pistoning into your hand and your brain can focus on nothing but having him inside of you, filling you up like he should.

"Baby." There's a careful edge to his tones. The profanity he whispers a moment later melts into the heat of your skin. "Keep doing that and I'll cum." He feels taunt above you, like a string on the verge of snapping.

"You could do that inside of me," you retort, twisting your hips up. It's only a slight brush but Jeongguk is swearing into the heat of the air. His hands are on the back of your thighs in an instant, hoisting you up to meet him as he settles himself between your legs, the head of his cock nudging against your core.

"You're a menace," Jeongguk retorts, pressing his length into you. His eyes are on your core, marvelling at how wet you are, practically drenching his cock in your slick. It doesn't help that you look gorgeous like this underneath him, his hands wandering back to your waist as he tugs you closer. The soft smile gracing your lips makes his heart ache. He pushes in without really thinking it over, the urge to fill you up overriding any other thought in his brain. The gasp you let out urges his hips to hit deeper, the feeling of your tight wet walls fluttering around his length euphoric. He loves every part of you but your cunt has a special place in his heart if he's being honest with himself. You fit around him perfectly, like you were made for him. Even after years of being with him it still takes him breath away, how easy you welcome his length into you, the noises you make when he's inside you. The first time you'd had sex Jeongguk had nearly cried. He'd never reached his climax that quick and it hit him hard, slamming into his body as he fucked you into the mattress. For some reason he feels the same way now, balls tight with his release, begging to coat your walls in his cum. He tries not to stare at your tummy but it's instinctual.

You sigh when he bottoms out, the curve of your bum pressed neatly against his balls. "But you love me."

Jeongguk scoffs lightly, rocking his hips hard. "I don't."

You ignore the butterflies that erupt in your stomach because you know he's lying. The look in his eyes as he gazes at your stomach says something else entirely.

"You do," you retort, raising your hips to match his thrusts. "You love me." The curve of his cock rubs right where you need him most, but it's not the hard pounding you expected from him tonight. He's going uncharacteristically slow, the drag inside of you steady but not fierce. Like he's purposely prolonging this, hanging onto the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. There's a distance in his eyes that makes you clench your walls on purpose, hard enough to yank Jeongguk back into reality. He responds with a hard thrust, one that coaxes a low moan from your lips. He hums low, hips still driving you into the sheets.

"Yeah I do." It makes your heart swoop, the heat that envelopes your body intoxicating.

The sound of you meeting fills the room, your slick dripping over Jeongguk's length. For a moment you watch how he disappears inside of you. It leaves a tingle travelling through your body, to see how well you take his cock, how he groans deep every time he buries himself inside of you. But then your eyes flicker back to Jeongguk and his unwavering gaze on your stomach. Even the hands settled on your waist are ginger, gripping you like you're fragile. It's only then do you remember the concerns he'd voiced.

"You can go harder," you murmur, the tremor in your voice a result of how good he's fucking you despite the gradual pace he'd opted for.

Jeongguk hums, still driving his cock deep into you. He's not really concerned about that. His hips move slow because he's still marvelling at the fact that you're pregnant. That the child developing inside of you belongs to the both of you. That he fucked a baby into you. It sets off something oddly primal in his brain, dragging up an urge that he has to bite down on. That's why he goes slow, savouring every whimper and sigh that falls from your bruised lips. Etching the way your body feels under him, pliant to his desires. How you stare at him with that soft look clouding your gaze. He doesn't want this to end. Even with the pressure in his balls tight, he drags it out, drowning the words that threaten to torrent from his heart with the sound of your meeting. It echoes in the room, colouring the air with your mutual love for one another. He lets it wrap around him, revels in it. But then you're wrapping an arm around him and tugging him down. His face lands into your shoulder and his palms get lost in the sheets. He feels your legs straddle around his waist, drawing him deeper and deeper and Jeongguk feels his resolve crumble into dust.

"Oh." The little exclamation fluxes into the crook of your neck, lost into the heat of your skin. It ignites something in your gut and your hips rise to meet his quickening pace. There's an edge lingering behind your eyes and you want it so bad. Jeongguk hears the desperation in the way you whine his name and he moves with purpose now, pounding you hard into the sheets mercilessly. It's what you want and Jeongguk intends to give you everything and anything you desire. Especially now that you're the mother of his child.

His high hits him quick, a fast sweet thing that zips down his spine has your walls cling around his length, holding him in like you need him there. There's nothing that can stop it, but you join him a beat later, your bodies moulding into each other, space nonexistence as your rapid heartbeats fall into sync. You feel him twitch inside of you, cum pooling around your entrance, and your brain short circuits for a moment.  There's a warmth ebbing from your core, echoing deep inside of your bones and the added feeling of your boyfriend caging you in his arms, his cum slipping from your core, unlocks something in your brain. It makes your heart fall into ease too, and you can't help but cling onto the security of his being even when he's mumbling about cleaning the two of you up in your ear.

"No.” The protest falls from your pouty lips, a neediness colouring your voice that Jeongguk can’t help but smile at. The glitter of his brown eyes leaves you swooning, but not as hard as the quick peck he delivers on your check a second later.

"Please," He reasons, voice gentle. "You're gonna feel gross tomorrow."

Your legs are reluctant but they fall away regardless. "Be quick."

He plants another faint kiss to your lips again before rising. "Of course I will."

→

“You stink.”

Jeongguk laughs at the grimace painting your features as he dives into you, smashing your nose straight into the pit of his armpit. He reeks, skin still slightly sticky from putting his muscles to work in the gym downstairs. Normally, he would prefer to drive out to the gym he’d signed a membership for. He’d usually shower there before heading home. However, since the news of the new addition to your family Jeongguk had been adamant on staying near home. Though the equipment in your building was arbitrary Jeongguk refused to go out further than needed. Even when you desperately wanted him to. For instance, right at this very moment. You can feel the revulsion forming at the back of your throat as he nuzzles you into his arms. You gag on it, shoving him off harshly. You can’t even muster a playful smile when he stares at you in confusion, face downcast.

“What’s wrong?” He says it innocently, oblivious to the stench that’s emitting from him. Normally, you don’t mind Jeongguk post work-out must. But something in your brain has registered his current sweat drenched body as the vilest thing on Earth.

“You stink,” You reiterate, shifting away from him. Jeongguk pouts, sniffing at the tight fabric that stretches over his firm muscles.

“That bad?”

“Like a pig. Please go shower.” You snap, snatching up the bag of salt and vinegar chips you’d left behind in you flee from Jeongguk. Usually you didn’t like the way this flavour lingered in your mouth, yet somehow with the past couple of days you’d demolished more packets of them than you’d ever eaten in a single month in your entire life.

“That is not the food a pregnant woman should be eating,” He comments, voice coloured with disdain. He attempts to pluck it out of your hands, but the sharp glare you target at him halts his movements immediately.

“Don’t talk to me when you smell like that.”

He frowns, raising a hand to rake through the damp brown curls sticking to his scalp. “You hate the way salt and vinegar crisps smell. Why the hell are you eating them at this rate?”

“Why are you not in the shower yet?” The eyebrow raised directly at him pokes at his composed temperament.

“Y/N. Apart from those, what else have you eaten today?” When you don’t answer Jeongguk evades your space once again. You cough back the bile that’s coating your throat.

“We had breakfast together, you know what I ate.” He doesn’t take the retort well, sighing heavily as he blinks at you.

“Breakfast was hours ago. What did you eat in between that? I want a serious answer.” There’s enough gravity in his words to make you mumble out what he’s asking to hear.

“....Bread.”

“Bread?” He repeats it like he can’t believe it, tone coloured with incredulity. “Bread. You just ate bread. Was there anything on the bread? Tell me it was a sandwich at least.”

“No. Just plain bread.”

The sigh he emits now is loud and full of frustration. “Bread? Y/N, you’re pregnant. You can’t just eat plain bread that’s not enough for you.”

“I know,” You snap back, a harshness in your voice that even surprises you. It makes Jeongguk pause for a moment, but you’re already too worked up to care about backtracking your thoughts. “I know that I should be eating nutritional stuff Jeongguk but I can’t. I literally can’t. I feel like I’m going to throw up over everything. It’s so hard to force food down my throat when I feel like it’s going to come right back up. So stop getting at me for that. I’m trying, I really am. Just let me be.”

He tilts his head, the perturbation in his eyes tangible. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you that lingers, Jeongguk’s gaze unwavering. It makes you feel uncomfortable, and you squirm away subconsciously. The minute moment has a dark cloud settling over Jeongguk’s features.

“I’m sorry,” He doesn’t make a move to kiss or hug you - which you’re both grateful for and irked at. It’s a peculiar feeling, repulsing your partner.  “I get that your sensitive right now. I’m just worried. You know tomorrow is our first prenatal visit. You’re still taking the vitamins right?”

“I am,” You affirm, sticking your hand back into the packet of crisps. “And stop worrying. You’re making me nervous.”

He sighs again, rubbing the nape of his neck with unease. In one fluid motion he’s off the couch, taking the atrocious smell with him. “I’m sorry again. I’ll go shower. Please, just consider eating something that isn’t salt and vinegar chips while I’m gone. And drink some water. Please? For me?” The pleading look he gives you, doe eyes wide, plasters itself into your brain. You mumble a noise of agreement, waiting impatiently for him to walk away. He does so with one last long look at you, his eyes holding a miscellany of emotions that you can’t decipher. You don’t want to either, but the feeling they give you creeps through your chest, sneaking its way into your heart.

When he's gone, you dig into your crisps unabashedly, yet for some reason the taste of them leaves a film of disgust in your mouth. You try to chug it away with a bottle of water but it lingers, provoking a wave of nausea that has you taking deep breaths. The show playing on the television is monetarily forgotten as you wander into the kitchen in search of something to calm your unsettled stomach. The cluster of bananas sitting in your fruit basket catch your eyes simply because the vision of Jeongguk staring at you with that imploring gaze is still vivid in your memory. He’s right though - you’re not eating enough healthy food to sustain the current exertion your body is undergoing. Making a whole human being is incredibly difficult and it was taking a huge toll on your body. From the constant nausea to the back pain and sudden scent sensitivity, you were feeling overwhelmed. Your moods had suffered too, your patience running thin with Jeongguk more often than not. The lethargy your body feels seeps negativity into every aspect of your life - and it didn’t help that Seungmin was still breathing down your neck asking for reports left right and centre like you had nothing better to do with your time. There had been a couple of close calls at the office this week we’re you’d nearly snapped at him, but you’d managed to hold yourself back in time. However, all those repressed emotions are following you, reappearing in the way you flare up at Jeongguk for the slightest mistake. It’s starting to eat away at you, this guilt that you’re treating him like this despite your boyfriend trying his best to provide you with everything and anything you wanted. That’s why you grab one of the bananas, swiftly peeling it open.

But then the smell hits you, quick and hard leaving no room for you to force back the vomit that nearly spews from your mouth. You barely make it to the toilet in time, head held over the bowl as you hurl out the obscene amount of carbs you’d consumed for the day.

You don’t even hear his footsteps but the sudden hard gently rubbing on your back isn’t unwelcome. He murmurs softly over the sound of you heaving, crouching next to your huddle figure, worry violently radiating from him. It’s a few more retches before it passes, you mouth bitter with the remnants of salt and vinegar crisps. It makes your eyes sting, and suddenly your throat is clogged with a devastating despondency that swallows you whole. You don’t even feel like you can move from the toilet, holding your head in your hands as you choke back tears. You feel discomfort everywhere, and this is merely the beginning of your pregnancy. Seven weeks in and a part of you is ready to quit it all already.

Jeongguk coaxes your head up, gently urging a glass of water into your hands that you use to rinse your mouth out. The distress in his eyes doesn’t help quell any of the negative thoughts swimming in your brain.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs, voice soft in the echo of your bathroom. His hair is still damp from his shower, golden skin on display - evidence he didn’t have enough time to tug a shirt over his head before he came to your aid.

“Obviously not,” You bite back, and then immediately regret it when you see the fall on his face. “I don’t think I’ll throw up again, but I really want to lie down.” He nods, evidently glad you’ve given him something to work with.

“C’mere.” You make a motion at the mess in the toilet but he brushes it off. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it.”  His arms lift you up easily, gingerly guiding you to the couch where he nestles you in the soft cocoon of pillows and blankets, fretting incessantly over whether you truly feel comfortable or not. And then, he’s gone. You hear the sound of the toilet being scrubbed even though you’re in the living room and your nausea rears its ugly head for a split second. It’s a dangerous lurch in your stomach that thankfully subsides when you close your eyes and breath slow. Jeongguk walks in on this, shirt soaked with the droplets of water slipping from his curls and his phone in his hand. You don’t see it but he’s staring hard at his phone, eyes swiftly reading through a series of web-pages, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He wishes he could just text his mom the question plaguing his brain but he can’t. You’d both decided to hold back the pregnancy announcement until the first ultrasound. But in situations like this Jeongguk wishes that his mother knew. Or anyone he could trust for advice really. He feels like he’s waddling blindly through deep waters, constantly making the wrong decisions because you keep snapping at him. Even now that you’re reposed on the couch, face lax, he can still see how dull your skin is. It makes his heart ache. For the duration of your pregnancy the morning sickness had been present - but it had never been this bad. Coupled with your other symptoms, Jeongguk truly feels like the worst partner in the world for not being able to alleviate somewhat of your troubles.

That’s why he heads to the kitchen with purposeful steps, snatching up the half peeled banana you’d deposited on the counter before fleeing for the bathroom and dumping it into the trash. You blink your eyes open to the sudden sound of Jeongguk knocking pots onto the stove and rummaging deep through the fridge.

“What are you doing?” You croak, voice weak over the droning of the television.

Jeongguk twists to face you, a tiny smile on his lips but his eyes are nervous. He asks it anyway because if he does nothing he’ll feel useless. “How do you feel about ginger tea?”

“I’m listening,” You say. The smile on your lips is tired, but the fact that it’s there is enough confirmation to ease the worry that had become a permanent fixture in Jeongguk’s heart.

→

His jittering is getting on your nerves. Jeongguk’s always been one to move around to alleviate his anxiety but by doing so at this very moment, he’s adding to yours. You already feel sick to your stomach, the candescene of the clinic lights sparking an ache in your eyes. Instinctively, you reach out from your perch in the leather chair, giving his jerky knee a firm but tight squeeze. The movement halts immediately and from your peripheral gaze you note the sheepish smile that spreads across your boyfriend’s lips.

“Sorry,” he whispers into the sterile air. Hospitals always have that sharp alcohol smell and you’re quickly coming to the conclusion that you don’t like that smell at all.

“It’s okay,” you return. “You’re just making me nervous, babe.”

He’s got your hand in his a second later. “I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe this is real.”

You huff. “Well you better start believing. This is very much real.” Maybe that’s what’s causing the mini freak-out in your mind. The gravity of the situation was slowly starting to dawn on you. Maybe it was the smell of the clinic, or maybe it was the equipment surrounding both of you. But it was all becoming very real that this was happening.

Jeongguk seems to have noted the flash of panic flooding your features but before you can say anything the door clicks open and a sharp lady with pin straight hair walks in.

“Good morning, Mr and Mrs Jeon. Apologies for keeping you waiting. I hope everything is alright.” She moves quickly, dropping a chart on the counter beside the wall before turning to face the both of you. You quirk an eyebrow at how she addresses you but Jeongguk doesn’t make a comment, instead quickly rising to give her a small bow.

“Morning Doctor Lee, everything’s alright. Just some morning sickness and fatigue but otherwise she’s doing okay.”

She grants you a small glance, the smile on her face gentle. “That’s to be expected. There’s some remedies I can suggest but for the most part you just have to work through it. Otherwise, we can get into the first ultrasound.”

You give her a nod, hand still intertwined with Jeongguk’s and a strange knot tight in your throat.

“Alright, go ahead and lie down for me,” Lee says, dimming the lights in the room. She raises your shirt up when you’ve gotten comfortable, handing you a paper sheet to prevent the gel from staining your clothes. Your exposed belly in the faint glow of the monitor screen ticks of something in your head. But you bury that feeling away, focusing on the feeling of Jeongguk’s callused palm against your own.

“Okay, just undo your pants and tug them down for me.” You do as instructed, wiggling in the seat until the curve of your stomach is out for all to see. You can feel Jeongguk’s eyes on it, the sudden squeeze he bestows your hand a clear indicator.

“The gel is warmed but it still might be a little bit uncomfortable,” Lee continues. She’s right, but you let her spread it around anyway, the pounding in your heart frantic. “So we’re going to do a simple heart-tracing,” she says as she presses the probe into your skin. “This is just a general check on how your baby is developing.” You nod again, ignoring the deft hard press of the probe and she shifts it around

“See if you look here.” Your eyes snap right to the monitor, mind trying to decipher the blobs on the screen into a person growing inside of you. “There’s your baby’s arm, and right there is the head and neck. They’re developing very well. Look there’s the rib cage, and there’s the spine.”

“Wow,” Jeongguk murmurs into the silence of the room.

Lee laughs, pressing the probe in a little deeper. “There’s the heart, and if I go down… Yes, there’s the stomach. And right there is your umbilical cord. Everything seems to be coming along well. Oh, look!” You can’t even rip your gaze away from the screen if you wanted to. “There’s the baby moving, see how the arm is raising?”

You can see it, a tiny slight movement that you don’t even register happening within you. Your baby is moving. Maybe you let out a little gasp, maybe your grip on Jeongguk’s hand goes taunt, but suddenly this seems real with a clarity you’ve never felt before.

“Alright, so I’m seeing no anomalies. So we’ll do a crown-rump length measurement. This will give us a possible date of birth for your baby. But from the information you gave you’re thinking you’re around nine weeks along, right?”

“Yes.” Your voice feels far from your body.

“Okay, let me just take a look at the rest of your body. I can see that your bladder is full, that’s good,” she says. You zone out then, lost in the sudden violent realisation that you’re growing a life inside of you. It feels slightly terrifying in the faint blue glow of the room. And it worsens when Jeongguk starts asking questions, mumbling about your food aversions and diet. Doctor Lee responds in that calm collected tone of her’s, giving him suggestions that you see him eagerly internalise. Yet you don’t hear much of what she says, too busy staring at the image on the monitor.

“Would you like me to take a picture?” Lee suddenly states. “We can’t determine gender at this stage but I could take a few pictures of the baby and have them printed out for you.”

“Yes,” you say. “We’d like that.”

Lee nods, the softness of her gaze enough to ground you for a moment. “Let me just move this around here. We’d like one with the baby up and in a good position.” You can’t tell if Jeongguk is breathing beside you, his sudden silence vaguely concerning. But this his fingertips feather down your side, reassuring, a reminder that he’s here for you.

“Alright then, that sums up what we’re able to do for your first ultrasound. I just need to check some of the reports and then I’ll get back to you. Here’s some towels so you can clean yourself up.” She leaves you buttoning your pants up, the lights back on and a weight sitting heavy on your shoulders.

“Our kid is gorgeous.” Jeongguk breaks the silence with that, tugging your hand into his once more.

“We haven’t even really seen him, Jeongguk,” you return. There’s a delirious smile pulling at your lips. Yes, you’re worried about this new challenge. Parenthood truly did not feel like a joke, but every time you look at Jeongguk. See the bright adoration blooming in his eyes, that fear can’t help but subside. It virtually disappears when he brushes a kiss against your forehead, plucking up the tissues you’d used to wipe the gel off.

“Him? How do you know our baby is a boy, hmm?” There’s the thud as the tissues hit the bottom of the garbage can. You shift to help him clean up but Jeongguk stops you with a firm palm against your belly, honey eyes staring at you with tenderness.

“I don’t know,” you return. “I think it’s a boy. But I don’t really care. I just want a healthy baby.”

He flicks your nose fondly. “I feel the same way, my love. Everything seems to be going well so far. I just need you to eat a little better. You heard what Doctor Lee said.”

“I know,” you groan. “But the baby hates everything! It’s not my fault I’m not hungry.”

“I know, my love. But you still need to eat. Where do you want to go for lunch today? I’m thinking Paul’s.” Jeongguk sweeps the rest of the mess up, ever so diligent and nit-picky. “I’m craving pasta.”

“Fine, but don’t expect me to finish anything. Those portions are always too —”

“Mr Jeon?” The door swings open, Lee striding in with an envelope and her chart tucked underneath her white coat. “Here’s the ultrasound photo. As for the estimation date, we’re thinking around May 17th. If you have any other questions we can discuss them now.”

“I think we’re clear of any questions right now,” Jeongguk responds, gently taking the envelope from her outstretched hand. “Thank you, Doctor Lee.”

“Alright, let me know if anything happens or if any questions arise,” she says. “I’ll see you at your next appointment.” She sends you off with a smile, and the worry that claws at your insides ebbs away the moment your feet leave her office.

It’s in the car that you rip open the envelope. It feels weird, holding the picture in your hands. Because that’s your baby. That’s something you and Jeongguk made together. A life forming inside of you. Jeongguk leans into your space, a hand on your thigh as your both stare at the picture together, attempting to pinpoint where the arms and legs are forming. It’s surreal, knowing that this was happening inside of you right now.

“That’s our baby,” you whisper. Jeongguk grins, planting a warm kiss on your check.

“Yeah, that’s our baby.”

→

Your bump grows steadily over the course of your pregnancy. Suddenly waist bands are too tight, jeans don’t clasp shut, and you’re left rummaging through your closet for anything that sits loose enough to alleviate your discomfort. Jeongguk’s sweatpants swiftly migrate to your closet becoming a favourite item for you to don until one day Soomi insists on taking you maternity shopping. It’s not your favourite activity, to be honest. The harsh lights in the changing rooms illuminate your drastically changing body, bouncing off the roundness of your belly. It’s surreal, to see yourself alter like this, a totally new person staring back at you from the reflection. But you amuse her regardless, not minding the loose fitted clothes she swamps over you with that delicate smile of hers.

You and Jeongguk tell your parents first, during one late afternoon lunch, before announcing the news to everyone else you know. There’s hesitation in the initial reception, expected comments at the lack of your matrimony being muttered amongst your grandparents and parents. But that quickly dissipates when you hand them a picture of a recent ultrasound. They fall in love immediately, cooing and simpering with adoration for the child growing within you. It’s around then that the glow sneaks around, your skin vibrant and the smile on your lips unwavering. But the pregnancy isn’t perfect, there are still bouts of morning sickness and a growing pain at the base of your back that refuse to disappear despite advice for others and consistent care from Jeongguk himself. You manage through it though, a strange feeling blossoming in your chest whenever he places an absentminded palm against your belly, like a security blanket shielding you away from the bitter coldness of the world.

You can’t help but think about that feeling as you stare yourself in the mirror, sans clothes, tummy spreading far from body. With your first trimester essentially over, the changes in your body have become more rapid. It’s been odd to glance down and find a swell there instead of your usual tummy with its rolls and softness. Your fingertips give in, poking gently at the skin there. It’s still soft — just different, a firmness that tugs at your heart meeting your fingers. You should have gotten into the shower ages ago, a meeting awaiting your morning at the office. Jeongguk’s up too, the faint padding of his slippers echoing through the walls. You don’t realise how close he’s drawing until the door slides open, brown curls and wide eyes appearing from the sudden gap. There’s no need to hide, his gaze falling on your bare skin gently.

“Are you going to get in any day soon or is your body more fascinating to look at?” He’s annoyed. Despite your insistence Jeongguk doesn’t like the idea of you going into a stressful environment that you hate on most days, especially when his new position covers both of you. Seungmin doesn’t know yet too, and your manager is still a pain in the ass on good days. He doesn't want that around you when your body is preoccupied with creating life. But the idea of wasting away on the couch watching reruns of sitcoms and shunning away the comfort foods you once enjoyed sounds abhorrent. You’d rather be in the office while you can, and your colleagues are wonderful to — better company than a television show.

“You don’t think my body is fascinating?” He sees your pout in the mirror, shifting forward with a small smile on his own lips.

“I never said that.” The words wrap around you the same time his arms do, strong and firm but delicate in how he handles you. His lips meet your neck a beat later, the adoration they leave sinking straight into your heart. It warms you from head to toe, burning when his hands fall to your belly instinctively. “It’s more than fascinating.”

You hum, rocking into his chest. “Is it?” Your eyes don’t leave the mirror, engraving this image into the base of your mind where it will live with a clarity as clear as the sky. Jeongguk on the other hand is too busy looking at you, eyes trained on your face like he’s staring at a constellation hanging high in the velvet of the night. His hands travel, dropping low to settling at your hips. His own brushes against you, want evident through the loose fabric of his shorts.

“Do you want me to show you how fascinating it is?”

“I'm gonna be late for work, Jeongguk.”

“You don’t have to go at all,” he returns, a gentle press of his lips on your neck accompanying the statement.

“And why would I want to do that?” You retort, but your resolve is weak, body already pliant to the gentle shift of him as he draws you close.

“You don’t have to want to not go – I can just make you.”

“Jeon–”

His wandering hand is now at your chest, the fingertips that trail along your skin are delicate and yet they leave blazes of heat in their wake. “Please,” he burns the word into your skin, lips leaving a soft mark. “Just for today.” You feel it then, the crumble of your resolution. It happens the moment his hand slips low, right between your legs, grazing soft the way you like it. His other hand stays at your chest, squeezing soft before he catches your nipple between his fingertips. A precise flick, and the press of his tongue on your neck has you succumbing faster than the shore does to the hungry tide.

“Jeon–” He makes you watch, fingers landing right where you need them, sure deft presses against the nerves there. Your thighs are drawn taunt already, heightened by the sensitivity of your newfound body. It catches you gaze in the mirror, that bump, peaking forward as he works your open with his fingers. You can feel his muscles shift, ready to spin you, lift you up onto the counter like he’s done before and find his way between your legs. But you decide then, that you don’t want that just yet.

“Wait – wait, Jeongguk. Wait, I want something else first.” He halts, pauses with a curiosity in his dark gaze that makes you nervous for some reason. In baited silence you turn, shuffling away from him and sinking on your knees in a fluid motion.

“You don’t have to –” He starts, but you don’t let him finish.

“But I want to you.”

“Baby.” It’s laced with apprehension, but his cock is hard at the sight of you like this, pliant and on your knees, a pretty picture burned into his memory. “Your knees,” Jeongguk mumbles, gripping the counter when your mouth his dick through the fabric of his shorts. “You’re going to be in pain.”

“You know I like pain, Jeongguk.” And then your tugging the fabric down, sighing when he springs out, hard and needy. He’s already leaking, tip red and wet. He wants to say something, but it vanishes when you swallow him whole, head bumping into the back of your perfect throat with an evil ease. The groan that falls from his mouth and unearthly, painting the air warm. He’s forgotten how good your mouth is, how eager you work your tongue around him, fast and quick over delicate nerves that fall victim to your ministrations quick. He’s not normally this fast in reaching his edge, but the sight of you, naked and full in the mirror plague the back of his mind. It shouldn’t be hot but that fact that you’re carrying his child does something to base part of Jeongguk’s brain that he can’t put into words. It’s what drives his hips forward, motions muted because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. But you don’t care, forcing more of his length down your throat until you gag, lips glistening bright under the bathroom lights.

“Baby,” Jeongguk mumbles, his hand reaching to pull you off his cock. “Baby – please – gonna cum if you don’t stop.”

You pull off with an obscene wet pop, licking your lips sinfully. “But that’s what I want.” You see him twitch, length dripping wet.

“No,” Jeongguk whines. “Not when I wanna cum in you.”

“Really?” He doesn’t even know why you’re surprised.

“Yes,” he answers anyway. “Really.” You’re pulled from the ground softly, and spun to face the mirror with care. His clothes hit the ground then, firm tan arms wrapping around you. They bend you forward, rest your hands onto the counter so you have support when he sinks down behind you, nudging your legs open with purpose.

“Thought you wanted to – oh fuck.” Jeongguk hums at that, tongue slipping right between your folds. He licks you open with a fierceness that has your knees shaking, deft movements filled with urgency. It sparks that heat in your gut, allows to spread fast through your body as his face burrows deep between your legs. His hands hold you still though, carefully protecting your belly against the bathroom counter. You can’t focus on anything but the feeling of his tongue sliding in deep, coaxing your walls apart eagerly. When he finally parts from your cunt you’ve forgetting how to breathe, forehead pressed against the cool counter and your lungs heaving.

“Good girl,” Jeongguk comments, dropping a swift kiss on your core. “Wet like this just for me, right?”

You sigh, a tiny noise of agreement. “Just for you.”

Jeongguk doesn’t comment, gripping you hard as he rises again, cock nudging right against your cunt with ease. He doesn’t move though, hands coming to gently lift your head. He forces you to look, honey eyes coloured dark even in the glimmer of the lights. His fingers journey along your features, quietly claiming the skin they touch.

“All of this, only for me, right?”

“All for you,” you immediately comply, hips shifting back. You want him so bad it hurts.

He pauses at your belly, settling at the base of it, swell cupped in his hand. “Only for me.” You don’t reply at first, because it feels like something Jeongguk is saying to himself. But then he looks at you, waiting, the grip on your body firm and unforgiving.

“Yours.” It’s whispered into the morning, like a secret of the night instead. Jeongguk smiles, that bright grin you’ve grown to love feeding the fire that burns fast within you.

“Mine,” he brands the word into your skin with a kiss on your neck. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

He buries himself deep them, splitting you open with one sure thrust that coaxes a moan from the back of throat. It melts into the air, walls already adjusting to his length. You can feel the slick coating your inner thighs, tainting the base of his crotch and dripping down his length. You sway, but Jeongguk holds you up, keep your gaze focused on the mirror as his hips draw away, before returning back with a force that catches your tongue between your teeth. He fucks you hard with a need you’ve never felt before, a purpose driving his hips forward until you feel your body given way, the sound of your meeting resounding through the room, hard and fast and wet. And yet his hands hold you together carefully, delicate with your fragility but firm like he needs you to know something. You think you do, and this side of him is both pleasant and terrifying. Nobody has ever touched you like this before, fucked you open like this before. But then again Jeongguk did say only him. And he meant it, judging from how his hand snakes to your cunt, landing right where you need him as if he’s memorised your body, engraved parts of him into his brain forever. It feels like he wants you to do the same, with how hard his hips drive forward, moaning low in your ear as his body tenses. You’re close too, but not there yet. Jeongguk can feel that, knows that tremor in your thighs is not enough. So he bites it back, holds that drop in his gut as he moulds your body into his, thrusts deep and slow.

“God – Jeon – J-Jeongguk – I can’t – can’t–” You look gorgeous like this, head lolling back and your hips shift to meet him.

“You can,” his fingers move faster, determined. “Be good for me, hmm?”

“But–” It appears faster than you’d like, a violent flash that pulls from within as Jeongguk unravels you. You can still feel him, buried deep and throbbing hard against your walls. Your legs want to give in but Jeongguk holds you up, forces you through it with shallow bucks of his hips against your heat, groaning low when your walls tighten around his length. He falls then, right into the heat of his want, spilling deep inside of you with choked whine and a kiss against your shoulder. It feels long and like it happens in a blink at the same time, but even as he stills you can feel him inside you, twitching around the pool of cum dripping from your cunt.

There’s another kiss on your shoulder as Jeongguk slowly pulls himself out. His cum follows quick, slipping from your cunt with is. You note how he watches it, how his fingers twitch with the instinct to stuff it back inside. You can’t help but roll your eyes. That was something you did when you were trying and there’s already proof of that effort right in your belly. He moves to plant another kiss though, right on your cheek while his hands sneak down to fulfil their desire. You halt them with a gentleness.

“I need to shower, Jeongguk.” The comment produces a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. “You have work too, babes. Get in with me.” He complies, still insistently drifting his hands downwards. A simple man honestly. With very simple needs.

→

With Jeongguk’s new position and your new predicament changes have rapidly happened. The search for a bigger apartment commenced right after your birthday announcement. At first, you didn’t find it necessary to uproot your whole life from your current apartment, with its quaint location and scattered memories. But Jeongguk wasn’t thinking about that, mind already focused on the future. He wanted a better district, closer to primary schools and day cares with stellar reputation. It was mildly unnerving, to see him come back from work, tie loose and his cheeks flushed from walking up the hill to your home with a list of new places they should go to, recommended by his colleagues. You’d asked around too, and slowly seeing one or two new places jumped from five to ten and eventually thirteen. All of them were disappointing in some way; either Jeongguk or you weren’t satisfied with the garden space, or he found the baby’s room to cramped, or the apartment too close to the main roads. Or the furnishing would not be adequate enough for the rent the landlord was charging. He also wanted benefits, perhaps a gym in the apartment complex or space to build one for himself in a private home. It quickly became apparent to you that Jeongguk wasn’t just looking for a new space, but rather the perfect forever home for him and his family.

Family.

A word you’ve slowly become accustomed to saying in your head. Jeongguk was your partner, and for the most part your family – but this, the baby in your belly. That was your family. A child that belongs to you as much as they belong to Jeongguk. It’s a foreign concept, but your heart swells in anticipation for it every time Jeongguk comes home for work, exhausted by lightening up the second his eyes fall on you and your stomach. It deepens during your doctor’s appointments, quietly observing the attentiveness Jeongguk directs to those meetings, how he notes down every bit of advice the doctors suggest. And its blooms when you begin find copies of parentings books around the house. You’d bought a few of your own for your journey but the shiny novel labelled: ‘Parenting Guide: For New Fathers’ sitting on your kitchen counter does something to you. Jeongguk wanted this more than he let on, and the fact that he was willing to give it up when you felt reluctant shows just how much he loves and cares for you. It feels like a blessing that everything aligned in its own way, perhaps drawn into your life by the desires of your boyfriend and partially by your longing for them too.

You’re lucky enough to find the perfect place thanks to Seokjin. A modern high-rise with the perks Jeongguk wants and enough room for your family to blossom, plus a playground space for your baby to grow in. It’s an arm and a leg to afford but Jeongguk was adamant to provide, and in the back of your head you were already thinking of side-things you can do to support your devoted lover. You move in towards the beginning of January, your previous lease drawing to an end at the perfect time. The new year is ushered in with new furniture and kisses in empty rooms, your sweaters stretching hard over your growing tummy. The journey feels both long and short, marked by moments with your mother, friends and Jeongguk and most importantly by yourself. Hours spent in front of the mirror observing your body change and transform into something new – something strong enough to create life within. Perhaps it’s always been that, yet seeing it occur right before your eyes has been astounding. Jeongguk keeps a steady eye on you, a weight lifting off his shoulders when you finally hand in your resignation letter. Seungmin is surprised, but he stares at your stomach with grudgingness that makes you feel sick.

(And you are the moment you get home, even with the first trimester over).

“Women,” he had muttered under his breathe. “Good for nothing but having babies and abandoning work.”

At first you’d wanted to ignore it, have your final day in the office be a pleasant calm one. Your co-workers were pretty nice, albeit occasionally annoying and deriving too much gratification in gossip but they were nice. Yet how could you, when the source of your stress and anxiety had the nerve to speak to you like that.

“You’re a real fucking piece of shit, you know.” And just like that Seungmin had shut-up, narrowed eyes staring at you in disbelief. “What the fuck have I ever done to you? My work has always been excellent unlike the subpar shit you usually get from everyone here. And yet you’ve been nothing but an annoying piece of shit to me and half your employees here. I don’t know who made you like this but I suggest you leave that shit at the door when you walk in – or else you’ll be dealing with more than just an angry pregnant lady. I’ve heard some pretty interesting harassment lawsuits have been springing up.”

He hadn’t said anything, mouth agape as you’d gotten up, your bag tight in your arms. “Learn to fucking respect the people you work with, or else someone will teach you that lesson.”

You’d stormed out, passing quick goodbyes as your stomach swayed with dread. It had taken more from you than you’d expected but it trepidation had passed as quick as your head hitting toilet the second you’d gotten home. Jeongguk considered buying you a cake just for that, and you’d told him to shut-up. But you could feel like pride and relief in the hug hid given you after you’d told him, and that was all that truly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Not life-sucking leeches like Seungmin.

→

You never really wanted a baby shower. It just felt so overwhelming and attention-seeking to demand that everyone in your life pays mind to you and the baby you were growing, but as pregnancy went on, Yoona and Soomi couldn’t help but insist, taking on the burden of planning it. Jeongguk has helped too, picky over the food and colour co-ordinations to the point where Yoona is considering never talking to him again.

“He’s going to be a nightmare when you plan your wedding,” she says it over a mouthful of rice, swiping through flower arrangement pictures. “Why the hell does he know the difference between gold and rose-gold I can’t even get my husband to figure out two different shades of blue.”

You’d shrugged, the smile on your lips small. “He really likes art, maybe that’s why.”

“A designer’s eye,” Yoona comments, sweeping over the apartment. “I knew they was no way you were responsible for this. Remember when you wanted to paint your apartment walls orange… I’m so glad you met him.”

“Hey! Orange is a really nice colour, it’s very warm and welcoming.”

“Orange is gross and gives people migraines – who have you ever seen purposefully paint their home in the shade of bright orange?” The quirk of her eyebrow makes you laugh, but your still adamant like always.

“It could have been me; I could have been the first.”

“And the last if anyone was smart enough. How’s the baby room coming along.”

You’re up in an instant, partially weighed by the new heaviness in your stomach and chest. “Wanna see? Jeongguk did most of it.” She nods, following you through your new home to the room right beside yours. It opens up to reveal a wide room, painted a pretty pastel yellow, tiny birds and flower wreathes lining the walls. Jeongguk had done it himself, along with the images of Bambi placed on opposing walls. It was his favourite Disney movie after all, and if he aimed on converting your child into loving it too you don’t mind. The crib is adorned with pillow and plushies, carefully picked out for their softness, along with a faded blue blanket that belonged to Jeongguk. His mother had kept it, somewhat pristine for its age and former use. The rest of the room was filled with paraphernalia; a rocking chair given by Namjoon, an assortment of toys partially handed over by Seokjin as his kids have aged and pretty star mobile swaying over the crib.

Yoona’s delight is evident in her smile, padding around the room with the movement of something you can only describe as mother-like. “I could give you baby clothes by the way – Jonghyun is growing so fast and I don’t know what to do with them.”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

“You’re okay with boy clothes? Wait – are you having a boy?”

You roll your eyes, moving forward into the room. “No, we decided to keep it a secret from ourselves, you know this I bet Jeongguk told you.” From the sly shift of her gaze he did. “Soomi is the only one who knows.”

“Why Soomi and why not me?” Yoona pouts, looking exactly like her high-school self.

“Because,” you respond, “Soomi can keep a secret and you can’t.” Her laugh is soft and good-natures because she knows it’s true too.

You fall into small silence, one that feels like memories. How you’d met this girl at the tender age of ten and kept her in your life as you’ve grown from young and wild teenager, confused and reckless adults to this. Mothers. A part of your future that you never truly saw coming.

“He did all of this?” Yoona supplies into the silence. You hum a noise of agreement. “He really cares.”

“He does.”

“I think that’s nice. It’s good you meet him that day – and if I recall when you called me right after you were already calling it the worst day of your life. Now look.”

And you do, fondness creeping forth from your chest. “It was the worst day of my life. He cost me an important job.”

“And he ended up giving you this,” Yoona returns, moving to slip her hand into yours. “A fair trade doesn’t you think.”

“Not a bad one at all,” you say. Your laughs are as light as the dawn sun just breaking beyond the horizon, coloured bright like the paint on the wall of your child’s future room.

“You’re gonna miss this,” Yoona says, squeezing your hand softly. “Once it’s all gone and everyday feels like a challenge… These moments you’re gonna miss them.”

“You miss being pregnant?”

“Maybe,” Yoona wonders out-loud, the look she gives you sneaky. “Jonghyun needs a sibling.”

“God please, give yourself a break. And besides,” You glance at your tummy. “He has a friend on the way.”

Another moment of silence falls, as you both stare at your future while your hand clings to your past and present.

“Remember what I said, at my baby shower?” Yoona whispers, her fingers gripping onto you.

“I remember.” It’s funny that she brings it up, considering what happened that night.

“Well… I’m happy we’re doing this together.” You pause, turning to face her, the smile on her hips matching yours.

“I’m happy we’re doing this together too.” And when she pulls you close for a hug, you remember the girl you once were, unsure and stumbling. It feels nice to know that Yoona was there for you then, and she’s here for you now.

(The shower is more than a success, filled with memories you’ll treasure for ever – and images of Taehyung in a diaper stamped into your memory forever. Yoona and Soomi were right through; having one gave you moments to remember and it felt warm, to be surrounded by the tender adoration and love for your family celebrating the start of something new.)

→

Your baby is late. It’s fitting actually, because that’s something you would do if you were about to be born. But it’s starting to get on your nerves. There’s an unspoken edge hanging in the room, amplified by the constant concerned looks Jeongguk has been throwing your way since your child decided to hang in your womb for a little longer. You’ve been trying to ignore it, but it’s hard when he’s checking up on you for contractions and when the hospital bag has been sitting beside the door for three whole days now. You drown his concern (and yours) with bowls of popcorn and a strange new-found interest in watching old romantic comedies. Jeongguk paces around the apartment while Bridget Jones gets locked in a Taiwan jail for attempted drug smuggling. It would have been a funny moment, expect Jeongguk’s pacing as has the baby moving too and now there’s a tiny foot trying to murder you from the inside. So much energy, an obvious mark of Jeongguk’s genes because any child of yours would definitely prefer to not move instead of brutalising their mother’s insides.

“You’re sure we shouldn’t just go in? Get a check-up or something?” Jeongguk heads peaks from the living-room door frame, locks tousled from the fretting of his fingertips.

“No,” you return, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth. It’s more for the effect rather than from enjoyment because for some reason it tastes weird. “We called already, babes. It’s okay, leave the baby alone they’re not ready for the world yet.”

A hard kick into your ribs and you immediately regret saying that. Maybe the baby should just come out – you’re ready for them to.

There’s a line of worry digging into his forehead. “Are you sure? I don’t like this – what if something’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say. And fortunately as far as you and the doctors know, nothing is. All the ultrasound and check-up appointments had confirmed that your baby was growing steadily and healthy inside of you. Maybe they just wanted to stay in for a little bit before meeting the word.

“Y/N…” He shifts into the room, beautiful face weighed with concern. “We can go just to check–”

“I’m not doing that Jeongguk.” It’s firm and a little mean but he was fussing like he was the one with a huge baby sitting on his bladder.

“Alright.” It’s a quiet resignation. He moulds into the pillow beside you, careful not to brush against your belly. During the early stages you didn’t mind but now there was a sensitivity that left you irritated and vexed if his hand lingered for longer that five seconds. But you can feel him staring at it and a part of you feels bad for dismissing his concerns. You reach out without a second thought, guiding his palm to the side of your tummy where the kicks echo through.

A huff drifts from his mouth, soft and wondrous. “Strong little girl,” he mumbles, following the pads of the kicks as they breach from under your skin.

“Girl? Did my mom tell you?”

“It’s definitely a girl. She’s stubborn for staying in there when I want to me her. Exactly like you.”

You flick his forehead, caught off guard by the awe sitting in his wide doe eyes. “Mean.”

“How?” Jeongguk whines, petal lips forming a pout. “Bubba, your Mom is calling me mean. Imagine – me!”

“And you called her stubborn.”

“I called you stubborn, she’s a by-product of you so it’s still really your fault.” That playful glint surfaces with an ease that shouldn’t leave you breathless. You hope she has his eyes

“Jeon, shut-up before I something terrible happens to you.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? It’s been six years of empty threats. If you wanted me gone you wouldn’t have had my kid.” You close your eyes in frustration, missing the very important airport scene that all romantic comedies tend to milk to the point of death. Jeongguk laughs at your misery, cooing with the baby kicks against your belly again, as if she’s laughing with him.

She. You’ve been avoiding any gender nouns since the baby shower but now that word seems fitting. A little girl. Your daughter.

“You’re both horrible people,” you return, idly dropping popcorn in your mouth.

Jeongguk gasps, as false as the acting displayed on your television. “Bubba did you hear that? Mom called you a horrible person and she was calling me mean!”

You whack his head, whining when the baby responds to his silly comment with a fist into your stomach. “God, Jeon stop. She gets hyper when you talk to her.”

“She?” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow, still smiling.

“She,” you return.

He falls quiet, staring at your stomach with careful consideration before you see it click in his head. “Anyway, as I was saying –”

“Jeongguk!”

It’s too late and your girl is already awake, kicking and punching every which way like you’re not the sole thing keeping her alive. Jeongguk just giggles but moves with to resettle the pillows behind your back, alleviating what discomfort he can. The tension that gripped the air suddenly lets loose, a calmness filling your head as the evening draws to a close. You only get anxious when you have to slip into bed with him, stomach too far stretched out for you to attain any source of ease. Jeongguk’s already learned to read you well, giving you space and extra pillows where he can, the only thing you hold onto during the night his hand. Somehow, you fall asleep, until your body jerks you awake, a searing pain bleeding through your lower limbs. The ache eats through your grogginess, pulling you up and out of bed where you find with a sudden violent shock that your pyjama pants are soaked. And yet you never panic, fumbling for the lights and heading to the bathroom to pat yourself awake before the next wave of pain stings through.

You poke Jeongguk awake, his eyes snapping open with an urgency that startles you.

“What’s wrong?” His back rips from the mattress as he twists to take you in. “Are you hurt? Sore? Hungry?”

“None of those. I think my water just broke though.”

“Your – what? W-water? You think?” There’s a pause, and then Jeongguk is bounding from the bed like he’s being hunted down and chased. The paleness that sweeps over his face coaxes a giggle out of you, which is immediately washed away by another brief bout of pain.

“Shit,” the word is mumbled again and again under his breath as he runs through the house, collecting last minute things. In a moment he’s guiding you to the door with no shirt but shoes on, keys gripped tight in his hand. “Do we do the breathing thing now? And when was the last contraction? I need to time them.”

“Jeongguk,” you sigh, “Could I change first. I don’t think going to the hospital in Micky Mouse pyjamas is very fitting. And you need to put a shirt on.”

He freezes, spine straight and forehead beading with sweat. “S-sorry–shit. I’m just freaking out let me help you.”

“I’m freaking out too, Jeon. But let’s be calm about it right?”

“Right,” he returns. “But we seriously need to get to the hospital because of the baby comes right now I might faint.”

“Not helping. Jeongguk!”

“Yeah, of course. You put out the set you wanted in the first drawer right?”

“Second drawer. The light blue ones.”

He leaves you staring at the hard wooden floors of your home as he runs to get them, a slight sweat building down your back. The contractions are still spread out, not frequent or concerning just yet. You wanted to stay home for a little to be frank, but judging from the frazzled nature of Jeongguk’s movements you’d rather not ask your boyfriend to wait before rushing into the hospital. You watch him with fondness as he dresses you in the living-room, doe eyes wide with concern and stuck on your stomach. There’s a shirt over his head at least, and a change from his sleeping sweats into clean dark ones.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper.

“Yes?” It’s said with high-alert. “Does it hurt? Should we do the breathing–”

“Jeongguk,” you interrupt. “I think you need to calm down.”

“I am calm.”

You give him a look.

“Okay, I’m not calm,” Jeongguk returns. “But I’m also facing the very real fact that our baby has decided to come into the world in the middle of the night and you’re not freaking out at all which is making me very nervous.”

“I am,” you reply. “I’m just trying to contain it because I don’t want to make it worse. And while I love you Jeongguk I need you not to go crazy on me right now. And I thought you wanted to meet her, she’s decided to come today since you were complaining about it.”

He frowns, lips puckered in an exasperated pout. “Sorry–just–it’s just–I didn’t think it was going to be this scary.”

“It’s not. We just need to get the hospital and everything is going to be okay. So let’s focus on getting into the car first and then we can do the breathing practises, okay.”

Jeongguk stills, eyes drifting to your stomach. You see his shoulder fall lax, a sudden protectiveness lingering on his face. “Okay, let’s start with that.”

→

You were wrong. Very wrong. About everything. Staying at home for even twenty minutes more would have been the worst decision you had ever made because when you baby decided to come into the world, she decided she was coming in fast. Viciously fast. Maybe Jeongguk’s crazed concerned was warranted. Your contractions speed up and get worse during the brief trip to the hospital, and by the time you’re walking in past the doors you’re considered maiming Jeongguk so that he never gets the idea that you want a child again. The staff is incredibly helpful, leading you to your room and bed while Jeongguk calls his parents and yours. It feels both rushed and like everyone is taking their sweet time with you, as if there was a baby literally trying to rip its way out of you. The nurses take the noting of the times Jeongguk recorded, immediately pointing out that your contractions have speed up but not enough to head down to the theatre. Soomi arrives during the two hours they give you to settle, occasionally popping into the check your dilation and contractions.

Her hair is a mess and you can hear the faint sound of Jimin consoling Jeongguk in the hallway. Which is stupid because he’s not the one giving birth, you are.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Soomi starts, drawing near with a container of food. She notes the look of disdain you throw it’s in direction, quickly discards it on a nearby stool.

“Thinking about killing Jeongguk,” you respond. The epidural you requested is not kicking in fast enough.

She laughs, a bright thing that eases you edges a little. “I said the exact same thing when Bora decided to come.”

“Where is she?” You ask, forcing a smile when Jimin walks in the stupid spawn of evil who put you in this hospital bed.

“Taehyung’s. Seokjin and Yoongi are coming tomorrow morning. You think she’ll be here by then? Soomi inquires. You catch the slip of her tongue, a faint smile spreading on your lips as you mumble a greeting to Jimin.

“So it is a girl,” you comment. Jeongguk halts beside you. Maybe you won’t murder him just yet.

“W-well, I – I mean – well, yes it is.”

You’re glad Soomi was the only one who knew. A secret kept right until the last minute.

“I told you,” Jeongguk interjects. “I had a feeling.”

“And I’m feeling like ending your life, so maybe don’t talk right now.”

Jimin’s laughter is loud and unabashed, a direct contrast to the nervous blush staining Jeongguk’s cheeks.

“And now you know why I was scared of Soomi, right?” Jimin comments, ignoring the threatening glare his wife spears into his head. “Have you picked a name yet?”

“Not really,” you return, noticing Jeongguk’s sudden silence. You reach for his hand, heart aching with the fear you might have heart him. He responds automatically, clinging right back onto you. “But there are ideas. We’ll know when we see her.” You say the last sentence while staring at his face, mind already conjuring the image of your girl. Will she have his nose? His cherry cheeks? Will she smile like him? You hope she does – Jeongguk has the best smile in the world. He’s staring at your face like he’s wondering the same, gaze flicking over your features with careful consideration, a gentleness in his eyes that warms you heart even when your contractions decide to resurface, clamouring to be heard in the waves of pain that follow.

“Hey,” there’s a soft hand on your head. “You’ll be okay.” Jeongguk looks worried but you can see him trying to hide it, shoulder tense but his eyes soft.

You respond with a mumbled noise of agreement. “Yeah, when this baby gets the hell out of me. Can somebody call the nurse; my beeper isn’t working.”

Jimin does, leaving Soomi and Jeongguk to hang over you like grey clouds in the sky. You stop focusing on them, letting the murmurs of their encouragement fade into the distance as your focus settles on the bright luminescent hospital lights. Everything shifts into a state of surrealness, marked by moments of doctors prodding you and Jeongguk catching your gaze from his place at your side. Eventually you’re pushed into the theatre room, followed by a trembling Jeon Jeongguk in scrubs and a mask. Soomi and Jimin linger in the hallways while the only thing you hear is one stupid word.

You push until you think you’ve split into two, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand because he should go through this pain too. He doesn’t protest, mumbling words of comfort in your ear while you attempt to crack the bones in his hand.

“You’re doing so well – see look she’s almost here,” he murmurs, hand a grounding force when he strokes your cheek. “Just one more, my love. One more push.”

And then finally, finally, you hear that cry, the pressure in your hips waning. It’s immediately replaced by a quiet awe descending on your both. The nurses congratulate you, cleaning and swaddling your baby up before hastily placing her on your chest. If the tears on your face are from pain or love you wouldn’t know. They are one and the same right now, the splitting of your heart aching in your chest as the love for your child pours out. She’s got his nose. You see it instantly, her eyes are still shut, but you think she has his eyes too. She’s so adorable and too tiny for the world. You feel it then, the fierce need to protect her from anything and everything. Jeongguk’s drops down to your level too, enclosing you both like he feels it too. There’s no need for words to be said, the silent exchange of wonder between you two enough as your baby breaks into weak forlorn cry.

Her name is a quiet decision, vocalised by Jeongguk reaching to graze his thumb across her small cheek. “Hello Jieun-ie…. Hi baby... Don’t cry bubba, we’re here. Hmm, we’re here my love.”

→

Jieun is a blessing. There’s something about her gummy little smile and those chubby mochi like cheeks that makes your heart warm with adoration. She’s got Jeongguk’s eyes too, little stars trapped in her loving gaze. It’s almost addictive, how soft and plush she is in your arms. You want her to stay small and tiny forever, under the protective gaze of her mother. Even the slightest thought of anything negative happening to her, makes your heart seize with terror. You didn’t know it was possible to have space for this much love in your heart but Jieun’s carved out a place just for her, a home in your heart besides Jeongguk.

You try and think of that love and warmth during moments like this - when she’s up all night, screaming her lungs out. You’ve checked her diaper, nothing. You’ve gently directed her wailing mouth to your nipple, immediate rejection from her chubby hands. You’ve rocked her around the room for the past forty minutes, softly bouncing her against your hip, but to no avail either. She’s not hungry, or dirty or tired. You’re lost on how to ease her back to sleep and your patience is quickly wearing thin. The gurgle of spit on your shoulder isn’t making the situation any more tolerable either anyway.

“Why’s my baby crying,” Jeongguk coos from the bedroom, voice groggy with sleep. You’d left him in bed and taken Jieun out when she’d gotten fussy, afraid to rouse him. He’d picked up some long shift once again and it pained you to see him shuffle to work early in the morning with barely any sleep on his face.

“I’ve got her; you can go back to sleep.” You try to reassure him but the incredulous look he gives in you in response has your put together facade crumbling. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” It’s mumbled in the cool air of your apartment, the shame in your tone drawing him closer.

“Hungry?” He says, there’s a hand against the small of your back, warm from the bed he was wrapped in.

“No,” You whine back, briefly closing your eyes when Jieun lets out a particular ear splitting wail.

“Oh no, baby. Don’t cry. Daddy’s here.” You press her into his hands wordlessly, a heavy weight on your chest when you finally take a look at him. He looks like he’s been run over by a truck, skin pasty and flat from sleep. His hair sticks out haphazardly from his head, a wild brown mane that’s overdue for a cut. There’s shadows under his eyes and a deep line forming between his eyebrows. A consequence of how often he frowns at things. Like he’s doing at Jieun now, eyes barely open in the dim light filling your living room.

You subconsciously reach out, pressing the pad of your thumb between his brows and massaging until his gaze relaxes. Jeongguk looks at you perplexed, murmuring sweetly into Jieun’s ear while he stains his shirt with her snot.

“Premature wrinkles,” you softly mutter. His eyes flash and then he’s shaking his head, gaze focused on Jieun.

“Bubba, why do you keep crying? Hmm?” He lifts her up gently, sniffing her bottom while she protests violently. “You’re not dirty either.” He cradles her tenderly once again and for a brief moment, she closes her mouth, wide eyes on her daddy. Neither of you move, frozen by the hope that she's satiated. And then her lips purse tightly, followed by them falling open with a thundering wail.

“Jesus,” Jeongguk whispers, hands gently running along her back. “Where do you get your lungs from? Huh bubba?” Jieun responds with a miserable cry, grubby hands flailing through the air. You catch one for her marshmallow fists, bemused when she smacks your hand away.

“What is wrong with her?” You can’t help but ask, feeling like you’ve been thrown off a boat and left to drown. Parenting shouldn’t be this difficult —  she’s only five months.

“Honestly?” Jeongguk's face seems down. “I don’t know either.” He rocks her softly and is rewarded by a softer cry. It takes a couple more minutes of bouncing from Jeongguk for her crying to wane away. You cautiously move closer, taking her hand into your own again, heart thumping when she grabs back at you tightly. You trail your thumb against her tiny fist, glancing up to find Jeongguk staring at your joint hands with a weird look in his eyes.

“Should we go to bed?” He asks, peering at you beneath his long brown bangs. Jieun hiccups at that, immediately falling silent when she nuzzles in her father’s neck. They have the same soft wavy brown hair, but Jieun’s is a little bit sparser, not as thick as her Daddy’s. You gently pry your hand away from hers as you nod, a pleased sigh coming from Jeongguk.

The bed is cool, sheets tipping towards the floor. There’s only a fraction of warmth against your skin when you finally crawl in, bones going soft at the touch of the mattress. Jeongguk makes a move to settle Jieun in her cradle but you shake your head, hand gesturing to the space beside you. He gets in without another word, gently resting her body between the two of you. Her breathing is even, eyes fluttering every other moment, teasing dreams you won’t ever hear and she won’t ever remember. You hope they’re good regardless.

You can’t help the wandering hand that settles on her plush little thigh, fingers grazing against the soft skin there. She’s so big already, it’s insane to see her grow so quickly right before your eyes. This was the girl who was kicking your stomach at every chance and sitting heavy on your bladder. The little baby that demanded you eat pickles with ice-cream and Cheetos dipped in chocolate syrup when she was in your belly. It’s surreal to see her sighing and gurgling outside of your body. It also makes you nervous, how little control you have over her environment. There’s no way you can ensure that she’s comfortable and safe at all times. Or happy and fulfilled. Which hurts like hell. This is your baby and you would do anything to protect her.

Maybe Jeongguk must feel the same because he pipes up, breaking the quiet of the night. “Are you worried? About Jieun?”

“Of course. Aren’t you?”

“All the damn time,” He mutters. You look up, eyes landing on the heavy gaze that’s directed at her sleeping face. “I’m so worried. What if we’re messing this up? I know we’ve barely started but sometimes it feels like too much. I don’t want to see her cry or you tired all the time. How do we know we’re doing the right thing? I want to make sure she’s stable and safe but there’s so much more to come and I’m going to mess up. I know I will.”

It’s a lot for you to digest. The way he blurts it out — it sounds like it’s been on his mind for a while now. It’s a stark contrast to the surety you were greeted with in the delivery room and the man who wanted this to happen in the first place. He doesn’t sound regretful, just terrified of the uncertainty of the future.

“Jeongguk,” You say, trying to wipe the exhaustion from your voice. He needs someone to lean on right now, and even if your heart feels heavy with the words he’s said, you’ll pretend to be that person anyway. “That’s okay. I’m going to mess up too. There’s no manual on how to do this. No one knows how to be a parent. Every child is different. We’re never going to be perfect. We just need to try our best at this.” You reach for his hand, intertwining your small fingers against his larger bigger ones. You give them a squeeze, pleased when Jeongguk looks up at you. “That’s all we need to do. Not everything will be perfect. We just need to try our best to make Jieun happy. Right?” He nods at that, holding your hand tighter. “And stop worrying. She loves you. You’re a great dad.”

He stares at you deeply, still gripping your hand. You watch that soft smile slip onto his face in silence, a warmth bubbling in your chest.

“And you’re a great mom,” He whispers back. You ache to lean over Jieun’s sleeping body, press a chaste kiss against your boyfriend’s lips. But a loud gurgle from her has both of you glancing down concerned. She’s kicking her legs gently, mouth halfway open and drool around her lips. You wipe her mouth fondly, letting go of Jeongguk’s hand to do so.

“We should sleep, shouldn’t we,” He mumbles, burrowing his head into the pillow.

“We should.”

“Hmm. Goodnight bubba,” He whispers at Jieun and then he glances up, eyes soft. “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jeongguk,” You return, giddy for some stupid reason. “Goodnight Jieun-ie.”

There’s a beat of silence, when the air is only filled with the rise and fall of your chests in union, punctuated by the occasional sigh from Jieun. And then Jeongguk is kicking your feet beneath the blanket, eyes open and on you.

“I love you,” He whispers, crust forming around his eyes. You kick him back, a warm feeling settling in your chest as your eyes flicker between your baby and the love of your life. It’s oddly perfect, despite the lack of sleep, despite how groggy the both of you are, despite the uncertainty of the future. None of that matters at that moment. Because you’re here, in your home, in bed with the two people you hold near and dear to your heart. You’ll tackle it together, whatever challenges the future holds for you. Because this is your family.

“I love you too, Jeongguk.”

[nightlight-writes]

Route Blue (HS! Ike Eveland x Reader)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: bullying

Notes: The title and main inspiration for this fic come from Shikimori-san Is Not Just A Cutie! If you have the time and like fluffy and wholesome romance, please check it out!

DISCLAIMER: The writing contained herein concerns the characters, NOT the streamers.

Class 3-B. That was your section for the year. Everyone spoke about it in fear, claiming that the gods had chosen it to be the “cursed” classroom this semester. Part of your job involved dispelling rumors and gossip among other students, but all your efforts were naught as they continued to spread to the point that some became outright legends. Slowly, you opened the door.

The only person inside was a bespectacled boy with ashy ombre hair. He was too busy writing in his notebook to glance at you, and you were too occupied with taking your seat to think of bothering him. Soon, other students came in as well. You observed that their steps were slow and shaky, that their faces were oily with sweat, and that they braced themselves and shut their eyes while opening the door. When they opened their eyes, their gazes would be fixed on that boy, and he would sigh every almost every time the door opened. It seemed that that man was somehow the cause of the legends…

Eventually, time came for lunch break. You decided to eat your meal alone on a wooden bench. Other students would pass by, speaking about ‘that foreign transfer student’ in hushed tones. The subject of their conversation soon sat down with you, drinking a can of soda. Fog covered his glasses, while his clothes blended in with the blue sky. You couldn’t say no to some accompaniment, so you figured that a simple greeting would be appropriate.

“Oh? I’m sorry if I bothered you, I’ll go take my lea-”

You flashed an ‘okay’ sign, signaling that it was fine for him to take a seat. As he lowered himself, you could see the ghost of a smile forming on his face.

“My name is Ike Eveland and it is a pleasure to meet you. What’s your name?”

After giving your reply, the two of you went back to eating. The school bell rang, signaling the resumption of classes. You both walked to your classroom together. Even the students that found safety in the presence of the school council president turned their backs away in fear. When you finally reached class, you felt something let go of your hand. Ike’s cheeks turned cherry pink and his right palm was practically coated in sweat.

“Oh God! I uh--um, hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable!”

After feeling a brief warmth on your face, you went to your seat in a calm, deliberate manner. The remainder of class was mostly uneventful; occasionally, you could hear Ike tapping his pen near the window. The council meeting today was mostly composed of brainstorming ideas for the annual Halloween fair, with one member suggesting a scary story competition. When school finally ended, you brought out your clover-patterned umbrella and proceeded to walk home, only to hear…

“Hey, I already gave you my pen and THAT’S not enough?!”

It sounded like Ike! Quickly, you rushed over to the source of the sound to see a lithe boy surrounded by many men, all of different shapes and sizes, with evil looks on their faces. They all turned around as soon as they heard your footsteps.

“What, you think your status can save this scrawny little shrimp?”

You stood in front of your classmate with a furious look on your face. From behind, he silently shot out an intense glare. You pointed behind you, signaling for Ike to start running. The look on his face soon softened to that of one of worry. Ike then whispered in your ear.

“But fighting’s just gonna get you hurt! Just let them have the pen; if we run together, we’ll certainly slip on some stray pebble on the road.”

Suddenly, one of the bullies lunged at you. Your response was that of a swift kick, followed by a punch in the stomach. You grabbed Ike’s hand and ran as fast as possible. As if though he had foretold the future, he slipped on a dark gray pebble and fell face down on the floor. Before lifting your acquaintance up into a princess carry, you picked up his glasses and put them in your pocket. The weight slowed you down, but you figured that you could still run a reasonable distance away from the delinquents. As soon as you were confident that they had given up on chasing you, you placed Ike down near a wall and kneeled down to inspect him.

From the bits of skin that weren’t obscured by clothes, he looked like he had no new injuries. He placed his hands over his eyes and started crying, wetting his face; his words were rendered incomprehensible from the sobbing. You slowly patted the brunette on his head, causing his breathing to gradually slow down. After a few minutes, Ike had found the words he wanted to say.

“I-I’m sorry I got you into this mess, I should’ve known my luck would’ve kicked in sooner…”

You asked your classmate to uncover his face. When he did so, you wiped the tears off with a handkerchief. After bringing his glasses out of your pocket, you cleaned them on your sleeve and held them out to him. His hands were trembling intensely, so you looked into his hazel eyes and put up a reassuring smile fitting of your stature. Slowly, the trembling went away, and Ike grabbed his glasses and put them on. His grimace slowly turned into a tiny smile, but the moment he opened his mouth a beep sounded from your alarm. It was already 7:00 PM; the two of you should have been home by now. You tapped Ike on the shoulder and got up, making him get up too. After waving each other goodbye, the two of you went your separate ways…

The next day at school, you saw your classmate near the school gates. As soon as he saw you, his eyes lighted up with joy and he rushed to your side.

“I couldn’t say it last time, but thank you for saving my butt back there. If it was just me against those guys, things would’ve gotten quite messy!”

He could see that you were holding a box with a blue ribbon on top. Slowly, you unwrapped the ribbon and opened the box, presenting it to him. Inside was one black pen and five colored pens. A notebook decorated with a little keychain was also included in the package. Your classmate seemed awestruck by the gift, seemingly in disbelief. After assessing the situation, he then brought an umbrella out from behind his back.

“After that incident, I was thinking of how to repay you. While I was walking back home, I spotted an umbrella with a clover leaf pattern and your name on it, but as soon as I reached out to grab it, it flew away! I hope this new umbrella is sufficient for your needs.”

Quickly, he whispered, “You probably shouldn’t open it around here though”.

You checked the time. It was 7:30 AM, 30 minutes before the start of class. Together with your new friend, you entered the school building.

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Birthday Gift

Pairing: Nomad!Steve x fem-Reader

Word Count: 5665 (I know, I know)

Summary:  The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of consensual violence, SMUT! PORN! 18+!

A/N: Hello my fellow hoes and sluts! My birthday is today and it has me in some kind of mood, so I hunkered down and blasted out this fic. @stargazingfangirl18​‘s lovely Tree Trimming fic has my holes quivering for some hot Nomad sex, so please sit back and enjoy my birthday present to all of you!

You had always hated your birthday.

Fortunately, Nat was completely willing to take your mind off it with a good sparring match. The snow was falling heavy outside of the large windows on the side of the gym, but the minor exertion was keeping you pleasantly warm. You’d been on the mat for almost an hour, but you still couldn’t seem to get your mind to focus.

Of course, it didn’t help when Rogers came in, glowering, to work the bags, giving you a wary look before he settled into his routine.

Nat and the rest of the team had been with you for almost 3 months now. When she had called you after the events in Berlin, to arrange a potential safehouse for her and her compatriots, you of course offered to have them join you at your isolated lodge on the Snæfellsnes peninsula. You were as off the grid as they come, and with the help of your Wakandan friends, still able to provide the modern creature comforts you were sure they had become accustomed to at the Avengers compound.

You had missed Nat, after all. It had been almost 7 years since you last saw her, but the grin she gave you when they landed in the early Autumn made it seem like she’d never left. You got to know everyone else over the months as well. Sam and you bonded quickly after you introduced him to Aquavit and spent the next 2 days helping him slowly move back to solid foods. Vision of course took everything that happened in stride, and while you couldn’t say you were friends, you had developed a mutual respect for each other. Wanda took longer to warm up (understandable after everything she had been through) but when you told her about the time you had spent in Sokovia, she quickly came out of her shell, and the two of you would often stay up through the night reminiscing about your homes. Even Barnes had softened once he got a look at your weapons room and you took it out to the Fjord to test out some next gen tech Shuri had sent you.

The only problem was Rogers.

No matter what you tried, it seemed that every time you got near him his hackles went up. You could feel him watching you constantly, and whenever you met his gaze, he would simply clench his jaw and stalk off like a cat.

“He’s just overprotective.” Nat always said. “He’s a big papa bear protecting his cubs. He’ll warm up.”

You snapped back to the present as Vis and Wanda wandered into the gym chatting idly. She had convinced him to join her out in the snow for a brisk hike, and was now laughing lightly as she brushed a dusting of soft flakes off his shoulders. Bucky was working his way down from the weights level, patting his neck dry with a towel. You heard the pounding on the bags stop, and glanced over to see Rogers unwrapping his hands as he stared at you, but this time he didn’t break eye contact when you met his gaze.

Those deep blue eyes disarmed you, and you lost your concentration for a split second. Nat seized her opportunity and crawled up your back, wrapping he legs around your neck and shoulders to try to get you into a submissive position. You tried to regain your composure, but your instincts kicked in for just a moment, and when you drove yourself back into the mat to break her hold, you landed quite a bit harder than you intended and thought you heard a snap as she gasped out in pain.

“Shit, Nat you good?” You scrambled onto your knees and looked at your friend with concern. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers striding over, jaw clenched and brow furrowed. Vis and Wanda stopped their conversation to glance over and Bucky moved quickly to intercept his best friend with a hand on his chest.

Nat broke the tension with a laugh, and everyone in the room relaxed. “God, Y/N, guess you’re still an aggro bitch. I though I might’ve had you for once.”

“Jesus, Nat. I’m sorry, lemme grab you some ice. Anything broken?”

“Don’t think so, just a bruised ego. Look at you, you haven’t even broken a sweat.”

You tossed a pack to her from the freezer, along with her typical post spar electrolyte drink. She gave you a wink as she pressed the pack to her ribs, and you could only shake your head at her.

“Steve, you wanna take over for me?” She said to the large man who was now leaning against one of the windows, only half listening as Barnes tried to distract him, while glaring at you.

You both snapped your heads around to stare at her and started protesting over each other while she grinned back and forth between you.

“That’s probably not a great idea…”

“Don’t want to hurt her…”

“Oh my god, you two are ridiculous. Y/N, you obviously still have to work out your birthday issues, and Steve, you’ve been complaining for the past 3 weeks that me and Buck are getting too predictable.”

“Y/N, it’s your birthday? We should bake you a cake!” Wanda exclaimed, always the little ray of sunshine.

“That’s ok Wand, please don’t.”

“Should we perhaps sing?” Vision was now adding his two cents to the discussion.

“No singing. Thank you, so much, for that, Nat.”

“She’s right Rogers, you’ve been looking pretty bored during our sessions, change of pace might be good for you.”

While you were eternally grateful to Bucky for getting the topic off of your birthday, you really didn’t think Rogers was going to go for this.

“Fine, we’ll give it a shot.”

You looked at him with surprise, but gave a shrug and nodded. You definitely still needed something to take your mind off the day. You loved Nat, but always felt the need to hold back during your sessions, and it might be nice to take the safety off.

Nat looked like the cat that ate the canary for some unknown reason, as she giggled and clapped her hands before setting down onto one of the stools to observe. Bucky looked relieved as he leaned back against the wall, chugging the contents of his water bottle. Wanda and Vis went back to their flirty conversation, content to let you two do your own thing.

You unzipped your hoody and threw it to the side, stretching your neck and bouncing on the balls of your feet to loosen up. Rogers looked you over, eyes lingering over your tattoos that you realized he’d never seen since most of them were easily covered by a long sleeve shirt. He pulled his own sweatshirt over his head, and you had a hard time not taking a second to appreciate just how good his torso looked in a simple grey tee.

“Jesus, you two, just get to it.”

The look you shot Nat was pure poison. You weren’t sure what her game was, but you’d be sure to break out the vodka later tonight and get it out of her.

You squared up with the captain, keeping a loose stance on the balls of your feet while he brought up his fists and shrugged his shoulders.

His first strike seemed sluggish, and you slapped it aside easily, frowning at him. He shuffled forward, throwing a few more jabs that you also dodged. Was he holding back on you?

The next few shots he tried to take all but confirmed it; he was pulling his punches. You ducked around them easily, starting to get frustrated. You stepped inside his reach and delivered three quick strikes to his abdomen, followed by an open-handed push to the center of his chest, causing him to take two steps backwards.

His eyes narrowed at you. He was just hoping to get Nat and Buck off his back. Nat had been trying to get him to interact with you for months, but there was something about you that set off warning bells in his head. He trusted Nat and Nat trusted you, which should have been good enough, but he couldn’t get over the thought that there was something dangerous about you that he couldn’t figure out. He’d hoped that a quick spar would appease Nat and get whatever was bugging him about you out of his system, but he had expected you to be on Nat’s level of physicality. The contemptuous way you slapped his blows aside, and the way you got under his guard fast, only made him more wary.

You saw him adjust his stance and tucked in his arms, and gave him a small smirk as you stepped back and raised your fists again.

He moved forward quickly this time, throwing a quick combo of punches aimed at your head and torso and trying to get his arms around you for a hold. You still dodged his strikes easily and when he tried to put you in a hold, you delivered a swift knee to the juncture of his waist on his left side, dancing back again.

His long hair had fallen into is eyes at this point, and when he straightened back up, the look of appraisal he gave was laced with frustration.

Your breathing was still even and relaxed, and Nat had been right, you hadn’t broken a sweat at all in the past 45 minutes. You loosely rolled one tattooed shoulder and gave him a grin, practically begging him to try again.

He clenched his jaw and rushed you. You kept dodging his blows or batting them aside but when he brought his foot around suddenly you moved a little too slow and felt it glance off your cheekbone. He took advantage of your brief surprise and moved behind you whip fast, wrapping one arm around your neck as he braced the other around your right shoulder and he tried to force you to the ground. You sprung your legs off the mat, raising them above your waist before swinging them back down as you got your left hand behind his head and grabbed the back of his tee, then used your momentum to fling him over your shoulders and toss him 15 feet across the room.

He shot up fast and turned back to with a look of complete shock on his face as he crouched into a protective stance. He stared at you like that for a beat before clenching his jaw and straightening up, rolling his head to right.

You followed his line of sight, perplexed. Bucky had jolted off of the wall and looked ready for a fight, flicking his gaze between you and Rogers. Wanda was staring at you with surprise, but was still relaxed. Vis looked at everyone around the room in confusion, trying to understand where the sudden tension had come from. The only person who seemed unfazed by what happened was Nat, all doe eyed innocence as she sipped her drink, not making eye contact with you or Rogers.

Poor Sam chose this moment to wander in. “Hey, Y/N, I heard it’s your b-day. You ready for me to drink you under… What happened?”

“Fuck’s sake Nat, you didn’t tell them.” You hissed at her.

“It didn’t really seem important, Y/N. Besides, it’s your secret.”

“Not a secret Nat. Jesus.”

“Someone want to tell me what the fuck I missed?” Sam was still flicking his gaze around the room, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Y/N just threw Steve across the room like a ragdoll.” Bucky said.

“Oh, word? Interesting.” Sam said.

“Someone want to explain this situation to me, slowly?” Rogers was looking murderously between you and Nat, and you honestly could have killed her yourself.

“Oh, did everyone not know about Y/N’s brain implants?”

All of you looked at Vision when he piped up, and he got a grin on his face like he had just solved an especially difficult puzzle.

“Baby, I think it’s safe to say only you and Nat knew.” Wanda whispered to him.

“But wasn’t that why we came here? Y/N has been hiding from multiple governments for years and her expertise has been very helpful in shielding us from both the United Nations and Stark industries.”

“Yeah, honey, just assume that you’re the only one who knows what you’re talking about.” Wanda said exasperatedly.

“Oh, well then, Y/N was part of an experimental program run by HYDRA under the guise of SHIELD during the 1990s where adolescents received brain implants designed by Dr. Emil Zola to increase sensory perception, decrease pain receptors, and specifically, maximize the efficiency of fast twitch muscle fibers via the phosphagen system, allowing use of these muscles for longer periods of time without negative effects. This was of course after multiple failed trials with a new super soldier serum.

“The program’s graduates were deployed at the beginning of the second Gulf War, purportedly to hunt terrorists, but were also used as HYDRA’s own assassination squad in the eastern hemisphere. The program was discontinued at the end of 2007 and it was thought that all the graduates were culled, but Y/N simply disappeared on mission at the Wakandan border. I admit, I was a bit surprised when she greeted us as she’s presumed dead by most intelligence agencies, but I thought her history was the reason we chose this location. Did I miss anything?” Vis looked at you with genuine interest.

“No that’s pretty much it, thanks.” You said flatly, running a hand over your face.

“See, not that big of a deal.” Nat shrugged.

“Well, Vis and I are going to head to bed.” Wanda chirped up, looking nervously between you, Nat, and the two super soldiers who were now staring at you again. She ushered Vision out of the room quickly and shushed him as he tried to ask if he had done something wrong.

“You really didn’t think this is something I might have wanted to know Nat?” Steve had now turned his attention back to your friend, murder written all over his face.

“No, Steve. Like I said, this is Y/N’s business and it changes literally nothing about how much I trust her. I can’t help it that you got your panties in a bunch over some perceived threat when I told you over and over again that I would willingly put my life in her hands in any situation.”

“You should have told them Nat.” You shook your head at her. She was still playing some sort of game, you could tell, but you didn’t know what.

“Ok, fine, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think you wanted the drama, or to have Barnes look at you like some little lost lamb.”

“Aw geez, Buck, stop looking at me like that or I’m going to punch you. I’m fine.”

“Ahm, sorry.” Bucky’s look of overwhelming sympathy would have been heartbreaking if it had been directed at anybody but you, and you really couldn’t handle that right now. “I’m here to talk if you ever need it.”

“Thanks, Barnes.”

“Besides, you and Steve are both in desperate need of a good fuck, and I thought an impromptu discovery like this would give you the push you need.”

And there it was.

“Well, I’m going to have to make it a rain check on those birthday drinks Y/N, look at the time, it’s… 6 PM. Let’s go Barnes.” Sam was now looking everywhere except at you and Rogers as he did his best to drag Bucky, who was doubled over crying with laughter, out of the gym.

You and Steve glared at Nat as she just sat there grinning, looking overly pleased with herself. A flush was creeping up Rogers neck as his fists tightened and loosened. You could see his jaw clenching under his beard and the tendons on his neck stand out in a look of absolute fury.

“You are such a meddling bitch, Romanoff.” You growled at her. Sure, it had been a while, but you were plenty capable of taking care of yourself, which you had told her after she plied you with three bottles of good Russian vodka.

“Yep.” She hopped off her stool and tossed her ice pack into the freezer. “I’m gonna leave you two to it. Talk, fight, fuck, do something. Your sexual tension is bringing down the vibe.”

She easily dodged the kettle bell you lobbed at her head with a laugh as she scurried out of the gym, closing the door behind her.

After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, you and Rogers turned back to each other. His face was no longer bright red as he looked at you, but you noticed something new in his gaze. His pupils were dilated as he peered at you through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. His breathing was deeper as he stepped closer and looked down at you. You were quite a bit taller than Nat, but still only came up to his eyes. He had moved his gaze to your chest, which was rising and falling in a slightly faster rhythm as he took you in, before moving it to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“Wanna talk?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Fight?”

“OK.”

You both took several steps back, retreating to your corners. Some unspoken agreement passed between you and Steve ripped off his t-shirt and sweatpants, until he was down to only his boxer briefs. You removed your sweats as well until you stood there in your sports bra and boy shorts. Neither of you examined whether you were doing this to increase your range of motion or for some other, hungrier reason.

You gazed at each other for a beat, drinking each other in. Steve rolled his broad shoulders and neck, bending from side to side briefly as you watched the muscles in his abdomen tighten and relax as he stretched. You reached your arms over your head before folding yourself over to wrap your arms around the backs of your thighs, twisting yourself to loosen your back muscles and feeling his eyes on you the whole time.

After straightening back up, you each gave each other a swift nod then rushed forward wordlessly.

You managed to gain the upper hand first when you vaulted over him as he dove at you, wrapping one arm around his throat as you carried your momentum and brought him to the ground, coiling your legs around his torso like a snake and stretching his right arm out with yours, pinning it in place.

He reached his left arm over his shoulder and punched you in the face.

You let go of him with a grunt and rolled up quickly, but he was able to get behind you and grabbed your left wrist with his right hand, hauling you over his shoulder while his left arm wrapped around your thigh and he drove you backwards into the mat, knocking the air out of your lungs before rolling over to try to pin you.

You got one leg between the two of you and drove your foot into the center of his chest, sending him flying across the room to crash into the free weights. You didn’t give him a chance to recover before charging back into him driving a fist into first his ribs, then his hip and causing him to buckle over before you wrapped one knee around his chest and rolled forward, slamming him into the ground so hard the floor cracked as you went to straddle him.

He caught your knee and carried you into a kneeling position before throwing you into the sandbags with enough force to knock one loose. You landed heavily and grabbed a kettle bell, whipping at him. He barely dodged it as he covered his head and it glanced off his forearm, giving you enough time to rush forward.

He caught you in the center of the mat and twisted you over him until you were pinned; one of your wrists in each of his hands above your head, legs wrapped around your thighs forcing them apart as he pressed his whole body weight into you.

You stopped struggling finally and stared up at him. You both were breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Steve’s hair was falling into his eyes, which were now lust blown as he stared at your lips. You could feel the muscles in his torso twitching against you as he held you in place.

He suddenly released your wrists without a word, and brought one hand behind your head to pull your mouth to his hungrily. His tongue ran along your lower lip and you opened yourself up to him, sighing into his mouth.

His other hand worked its way down your back as his legs loosened their hold on yours and he pressed your hips into his. You felt him start to grind his hardened cock into your mound and let out a low moan. He growled into your lips before releasing your head and started to kiss and bite his way down your neck, drawing soft whimpers from you as he did.

When he reached the tops of your breasts he pulled away from you suddenly to skim one hand up your abdomen before hooking three fingers under the edge of your sports bra and slowly drawing it over your head, eyes boring into yours as he did so. Once his obstacle had been removed, he nuzzled his face into the valley between your tits before gently sucking a bruise there as his beard scratched against your skin. He then moved his mouth to first your right nipple, then your left; rolling them between his teeth and tongue as you pressed your chest further into his face with a gasp.

He continued his downward journey, dipping his tongue into your navel before he reached the top of your shorts. He slowly drew them down your thighs and off until you were laying underneath him, fully bare and wanton, your cunt clenching around nothing as he stared up at you, resting his chin on your lower abdomen as his eyes asked you a silent question and you nodded, almost imperceptibly.

He drew your knees over his shoulders and pulled you down until his beard was flush against your mound. He nuzzled into the soft hair there before kissing the inside of your thighs slowly, his beard scratching the soft skin there as he gently ran the edge of his teeth up to your juncture then back down at an agonizingly slow pace. When you felt him breathe against your entrance, you wrapped one hand in his hair and moaned, and when his tongue found your clit you screamed and arched your back into him.

His tongue slowly circled your clit as he brought up his right hand and brushed his pointer and middle fingers through your arousal slowly, before inserting one finger into your pussy at a deliciously slow pace. You felt him smile against you as you moaned, wrapping your thighs around his neck as he moved in and out, curling his finger against that soft, spongy spot over and over again before adding another finger.

His tongue had stopped drawing it’s slow circles and was now pressing and releasing against you at faster intervals, causing your breath to hitch in your chest as you writhed against his face. He held a third finger at the edge of your entrance and when you pressed yourself into it, he inserted it into your canal, stretching you so good you let out a thin whine. He shook his head back and forth quickly but gently, adding a brand new sensation before he began to suck on your clit.

All the breath rushed out of you at once as you brought your second hand to press his head further into you. His fingers were fucking into you fast now and you felt the tension in your abdomen building as he alternated between sucking and licking at the small bundle of nerves. When he finally latched on, at the same time he curled all three fingers against your g-spot, you came apart around him, screaming his name as your thighs wrapped around his head like a vise as every muscle in your back tightened, thrusting your torso off the mat violently before you sank back down, relaxing as Steve helped you ride it out.

His name was the first thing either of you had said in almost 15 minutes, and he didn’t want to break the silence now. He was afraid if either of you spoke, you’d break the spell that seemed to have settled over you. Instead of saying anything, he gently pulled you down until you were straddling his waist, then nuzzled his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder before resting his forehead on yours and staring into your eyes.

You looked back at him, blinking slowly as you moved your hands down to his hips and slipping your fingers under the edge of his boxer briefs. You slipped them over his hips slowly, and you felt his legs shifting in between yours as he moved himself to help you remove them, never breaking eye contact with you. You matched each other’s breathing as he shifted his hips and lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes giving you a pleading look. You shifted your hips closer to him, and he slowly breached you with his tip, closing his eyes as he did so and letting out a low moan from the back of his throat. He started thrusting into you slowly, trying not to collapse on top of you as he held himself back.

You brought your face up to his and slowly kissed him, gently drawing your tongue along the outside of his lips. The hand you didn’t have buried in his hair moved to his lower back and pressed him into you further, and you softly whispered against his mouth “Please…”

He let out a feral growl and settled his full weight on top of you as his hands moved from their supportive positions. One moved underneath you to hold you against him as he fucked into you fast, the other buried itself in your hair as he wrenched your head back and ran his teeth over your throat, nipping at the small hollow at its base. His hand on your back tilted your hips so each drive of his brought him flush against your clit, and you started breathlessly whimpering as he drove into you at a punishing speed.

Your second orgasm came almost without warning. You felt yourself flutter around him one moment when he suddenly tilted your hips just right and you were seeing stars, your body spasming as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure crashed over you repeatedly.

Steve still wasn’t finished though. He gave you a kiss like a starving man before pulling out of you suddenly. You groaned at the loss before he flipped you over fast and slammed back into you, causing you to let out a cry as his tip kissed your cervix.

He maneuvered you into the position he wanted quickly; one knee hooked over his leg and brought up close to your side with your other leg stretched behind you. He brought one arm underneath you to wrap a massive hand around your throat while the other tangled itself in your hair and drew your head back enough for him to kiss you hard, shoving his tongue down your throat as he continued to drive into you.

You had another orgasm almost immediately. Your pussy was fluttering and clenching like crazy as your body almost vibrated with pleasure. Steve still wasn’t slowing down and you were having so much trouble catching your breath you were worried you were going to pass out. You couldn’t stop driving your hips back into him though, matching his pace and feeling the tension in your core begin to gather again. You rolled your eyes back in your head and let out a thin whimper as you moved a hand between your thighs, trying to gain some sort of control over your own pleasure before your brain short-circuited.

Steve ripped your fingers from your throbbing clit with a growl and replaced them with his own, drawing harsh circles around the overstimulated bundle as you gasped and whimpered. He moved the hand he had at your throat to cup your chin, and tugged at your bottom lip with his thumb. You opened your mouth to gently nip at the rough pad as you felt his hips start to stutter, and he when he bit into your shoulder harshly you let out a scream and came apart violently, shaking underneath him uncontrollably.

His own release was right behind yours, and you felt his hot spend coating your insides as you fluttered around him and he wordlessly roared into your ear. He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he moved his hand from your face to softly cup your breast, lazily rolling one nipple in between his fingers and you came down from your respective highs.

You felt him softening inside you as you started to untangle yourselves. He slowly pulled out and you let out a small sigh at the loss of him. You heard him groan as he caught the sight of his cum slowly leaking out of your swollen cunt, and he left a slow trail of kisses down your spine before gently turning you over.

You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled your face up to his, kissing him deeply as your other hand trailed through the hair on his chest before coming to rest on his abdomen. He rested his forehead against yours again as you both got your breathing under control, before he broke out in an absolutely sinful grin.

You both started laughing then, the previous tension completely broken as you buried your face in his neck and he held you close to him, shaking with laughter.

“Oh my god, I really did need a good fuck.” You said breathlessly, tears leaking down your cheeks.

“Yeah, well I’d say we shouldn’t give Nat the satisfaction of knowing she’s right but I doubt she wasn’t listening in this whole time.”

“Jesus, of course she was. She’ll never stop meddling now.”

He grunted in agreement before giving you a brief kiss to the top of your head, then you separated yourselves to stumble around and locate your clothes.

The gym was an absolute wreck. Aside from the crack in the floor, the weight racks had fallen over in a domino effect after you had kicked Steve into one and two of the sandbags were leaking everywhere.

You were both covered in bruises from the sparring session and the stiffness you always felt after overexertion seemed to have multiplied tenfold as you struggled to pull your sweats back on, groaning at how tight your muscles were. Steve seemed to be feeling it as well as he let out a hiss through his teeth when he pulled his sweatshirt back over his head.

Once you were both dressed, he stalked over to you like a cat and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you in for one more kiss.

“Guess we should go face the rest of them.” He said, resigned.

You groaned as he dragged you out of the gym, hand in hand, to endure what you were sure was going to be a chorus of cat calls and innuendos, but when the two of you arrived in the living area, it was just Nat curled up on the sofa, giving the two of you a satisfied smirk.

“Where is everyone?” You asked her, looking around to see if maybe they had moved into the kitchen.

Nat threw back her head and laughed. “Oh they all ran out into the snow once you two really got started. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look as embarrassed as Bucky did in my entire life. He forgot his shoes.” She was crying with laughter.

“Outside, Nat, it’s freezing out there!” The sun had already gone down with how late in the year it was and once that happened, the temperature would drop severely.

“I told them but they couldn’t handle it. Bunch of prudes.”

“Yeah, while you sat here and listened, you pervert.” You and Steve started pulling on boots and coats to head out after them.

“I’m the pervert! While you two had the world’s loudest fuckfest less than 20 feet away from the rest of your housemates, hey!” You had thrown her coat at her face and she caught it to shrug around her shoulders. “They probably had to go out five miles before they weren’t able to hear you.”

Steve growled at her as he ripped the front door open and headed out with you on his heels.

“Oh, you’re welcome by the way! It sure would be nice to get some appreciation for your birthday gift, Y/N… shit.”

Steve had lobbed a snowball the size of a golden retriever at her that she barely dodged at the last minute, cursing under her breath.

Steve wrapped an arm around you as you headed out into the fields to find your poor housemates and apologize, nuzzling himself into your hair with a grin. “Happy birthday.” He murmured to you, giving you a quick kiss before ruining the moment by bellowing “Barnes, get your dumbass back here, you forgot your boots!”

You grinned at him, looking up at the sky where the borealis had started and thinking that maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the fics I read this month. Check them out and leave a little love for the authors ♥

Party Lines | nonsensedarling | phone sex - dirty talk - 25k Louis works for a phone-sex operating company, collecting credit card information and transferring calls to different operators. On a particularly busy night, everyone is booked up, and one caller has been patiently waiting for more than a few minutes. In a split second decision –one he’s probably going to regret– Louis picks up the call himself. * Or Louis accidentally becomes a phone sex operator.

Milk Kinship | jaerie | a/b/o - breastfeeding - male lactation - lactation kink - strangers to lovers - 21k Harry had aspired to become a wet nurse since first learning about the honored and respected tradition when he was a teenager. The first documentary he’d seen had been detailed and brutally honest and Harry had still fallen in love with the idea. It’s origins were rooted in highly regarded positions of the royal staff and were credited in playing a role in the lives of some of the most famous children in history. There were medically trained wet nurses and other milk services for mothers unable to feed their babies, but true wet nurse nannies could only be afforded by the rich and famous. The glamorous life appealed to Harry even if his understanding of his role changed to a more realistic view over time. As a starry eyed kid, that was where he wanted to be. Or Harry is a wet nurse and isn't allowed to have an alpha. He may or may not break his vows.

In the Heat Where You Lay | Marchessa | a/b/o - established relationship - nesting - minor injuries - domestic fluff - 5k Louis has a hard time figuring out why his mate, Harry, acts strangely. What shady things the omega does behind his back? Why does he lie in his face when he is asking him about it? Or the one where Louis tries to balance work life and his marriage while he also has to protect Harry from himself since the omega is danger walking on two marvellously long legs at the best of times.

Everything I Didn't Say | denisemuriel | famous/not famous - mpreg - angst - miscommunication - One Night Stands - 25k "I'm going on tour soon and won't be here for most of the year and I think that's just not fair to you." Harry swallowed and brushed a loose curl out of his face. "That's why this won't happen again." Louis had to suppress a sob because he didn't want to cry in front of Harry. "Okay, I understand. It's probably better this way." Harry got up from his seat and walked over to Louis, who also got up. Slowly Harry raised his hand, giving Louis a chance to move away from him, but he allowed Harry to cup his face in his hand and press his forehead against his own. "I know you feel the same connection I do." Harry murmured softly against Louis' lips. "And I wish things were different. I know that if I stayed, I would fall in love with you." He admitted. ✩ Or the one where they meet at the wrong time and when Louis finds out he's pregnant the story gets sold out.

Searching For Lost Time | DuchessKitty16 | ballet - Hip Hop - pining - 16k Harry is a ballet dancer with special talents and a determination to make his dreams come true. Louis is a hip hop b-boy from Manchester who’s been given a chance to attend the prestigious Royal Academy of Dance in London. Louis feels like he has something to prove and show the rest of the dance world that hip hop is just as important an art form as anything other dance discipline. Harry and Louis clash at first and then learn that collaborating makes them stronger. Based on this prompt that I was given: Louis and Harry study at a dance academy. Harry studies ballet and Louis studies hip-hop. They both stay behind after classes to practice and they leave the doors of the rooms open. With their classes across each other, their music is loud and it annoys the other. After a few weeks, Harry and Louis discover that maybe ballet and hip-hop don't sound too bad together. AKA; the one where two types of dancing fit unexpectedly well together, much like Harry and Louis themselves.

Only You (Blue Always Stays True) | BeautifulWisdom | a/b/o - regency - Girl Direction - mutual pining - friends to lovers - 11k Regency AU. Lady Harriet falls for her sister's best friend the elusive Alpha Lady Louise who couldn't possibly return her tender feelings. Or could she?

you and all of heaven's other wonders | devilinmybrain (venomedveins) | Guardian Angel - supernatural elements - 25k "Louis Tomlinson." He starts, the deep voice dipping just a little in the seriousness of his tone. "As a child of the Most Holy, Heaven has seen your struggle on this earth and heard your cry. My name is - " At this point, he does something complicated with his throat, a sound much like a screeching bird and bells combined together before he continues. "and I have been sent here to be your guiding light. Fear not for the Lord is with you." "What?" Louis' accent comes out thicker in his disbelief, dropping consonants as he blinks up at the man. "I'm your-" The man shifts his weight, hesitantly bringing his hands together in front of him. It's an endearingly nervous habit. "I'm your guardian angel."

Lightning Strikes The Heart | Bekita and fournipplesau | a/b/o - Bridgerton AU - enemies to friends to lovers - fake/pretend relationship . regency - angst - fluff - smut - mpreg - 130k Shrewsbury, 1814 Dearest reader, I present to you your new bulletin of news regarding Shrewsbury citizen's activities. My name is Lady Merriweather and I will be in charge of the updates. I will make sure you are to know all the important details of what is to happen this season. You must know that you do not know who I am and you never shall. But be forewarned; I certainly do know you. I advise you to be on your best behaviour, lest you want the whole town to be privy of your business. As expected every year, the Lockhart House hosts the season’s opening ball, and its invitation is the motive of the hustle in town, and every family hopes for the invitation. This year is no different, but this year everyone's attention is focused on the new Duke of Montgomery, His Grace Harry Edward Styles, and whether he will attend it. All the omegas will be in their best manner, behaviour and clothes as it is expected. And here, dear reader is where we will find out which young omega might succeed at securing a match, hoping to not become a spinster. Place your bets.

Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes | softfonds | a/b/o - historical - strangers to lovers - fake/pretend relationship - hurt/comfort - mpreg - 59k What happens when a Duke who will only marry for love and a courtesan who only sells it create a public ruse? Well, nothing boring for sure. An Edwardian AU.

Maybe You'll Like the Way I Am | lululawrence | a/b/o - fake/pretend relationship - panic attacks - anxiety - PTSD - heart disease - hurt/comfort - friends to lovers - no smut - angst - 56k Harry stood on his doorstep, waving a little as he shuffled his feet. “Hi, I brought you some cookies.” Louis finally realized Harry was holding a plate with at least a dozen chocolate chip cookies. “How’d you know chocolate chip was my favorite?” Harry scrunched his nose. “I, uh, they’re actually peanut butter chocolate chunk, so I really hope you don’t have a peanut allergy. There’s a lot of peanut butter and chocolate in these. But also, I just hoped that was something you liked because I actually have a favor to ask?” When Louis' alpha neighbor asks him to pretend to be his omega for a week, Louis immediately says no. He has too much he's dealing with on his own, and he swore to himself he'd never get that close to an alpha again. Unable to hold to that resolve once guilt sets in, Louis finds that maybe fumbling his way through a fake relationship for a week was exactly what he needed to finally be able to move on.

Hint: I want to be yours | bluegreenish | a/b/o - friends with benefits to lovers - pining - 11k Thinking back to Harry’s rut, Louis shivers, needing to put effort into keeping other bodily reactions at bay. “Are you cold?” While Niall’s been commenting through the entire film, Harry had stayed mostly quiet, so it’s a surprise when he speaks up, eyes zeroed in on the omega. “Uh, yeah. It’s a bit chilly, innit?” Niall shrugs, dressed in a sleeveless t-shirt and seemingly unbothered by the room temperature. Harry doesn’t ask for an explanation though. “You can have my hoodie, wait, here.” Before Louis can counter, Harry’s pulling the light grey piece of clothing over his head and handing it to the omega. or, the one where Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't en

Always a Bridesmaid | kingsofeverything | age difference - weddings - sneaking around - secret relationship - fluff - 30k While Harry’s friends are all getting engaged or married, he’s nowhere near walking down the aisle to his own happily ever after. The night before his best friend’s wedding, Harry falls into bed with a silver haired stranger who makes him wonder what his own forever might look like.

[writtenbyrain]

The Lucky One

Read it on AO3

Summary: What if Master Fu hadn't been the only reason Marinette was late to her first day of school? What if, when Ladybug told Chat Noir she was in love with someone else, it really was someone else? Really, it comes down to this: What if Marinette met Luka before Adrien?

Notes: This is written for @feminaexlux for the LBSC 2021 Valentine's Day Exchange! I'm your secret admirer, so happy Valentine's Day, beautiful — I hope you enjoy the fic! 💕 Also, thank you so much to the lovely @chrwrites for beta reading! Word Count: 2,873

Luka loved his little sister more than words could describe, which was precisely why he couldn’t let her leave for her first day of school without her lucky pink hair clip.

Sure, she never really wore it; in fact, she seemed far more comfortable allowing her purple bangs to obscure her features in an increasingly persistent effort to hide from scrutinizing eyes. But that didn’t stop her from bringing the clip with her every day, anyway, just in case she ever found the strength to let herself be seen.

And as Luka waited patiently for her to unearth that courage for herself, he did his best to support and encourage her in any way he could, which was precisely why he found himself racing toward Collège Françoise Dupont on the first morning of the school year.

“Sorry, excuse me,” he mumbled to no one in particular as he pedaled perilously close to cars and took street corners just a hair too sharp.

That morning, as he had been organizing his own school books and binders, he found the small hair clip sitting forlornly on the deck of the Liberty. It must have fallen out of Juleka’s backpack, he realized, considering the haste with which she had raced off to meet Rose.

Thus, he now found himself down the street from the school, approaching the corner where a charming bakery huddled adjacent to the campus.

Only, just as he reached the crosswalk, an old man with a cane hobbled out into the road, where—

“Whoah, watch out!”

Luka skidded to a stop, tearing off his helmet as he ran to grab the man’s left arm. At the same time, another girl in pigtails, one arm burdened with a pastry box, ran out into the oncoming traffic to grab onto the man’s right.

Narrowly missing the bumper of a passing car, Luka huffed in relief as all three of them staggered back onto the edge of the sidewalk — but not before the girl in pigtails tripped, landing heavily on her hands and knees.

The crosswalk flicked green, then, and pedestrians began to obliviously mill past.

“Are you okay?” Luka bent down to grab the girl by the elbow, just as a cane appeared in his peripheral vision. “Are you hurt?”

The old man they had rescued edged closer to clear his throat before the girl could respond.

“Thank you, both of you,” he said before eyeing the box the girl had dropped. Pistachio green macaron shells lay shattered along the cement. “Oh! What a disaster.”

“Don’t worry, I’m no stranger to disaster. Besides, there are still a few left,” the girl responded buoyantly as she sat up and recovered the surviving cookies. She turned to Luka. “Oh! And y-yes! I’m okay! I’m just such a clutz, thank you for helping me.”

Her cheeks were dusted with a subtle pink as she looked up at Luka, his hand still resting gingerly on her arm.

She’s cute, he thought to himself before glancing back toward the crosswalk. And kind. Maybe I should—

The school bell rang, then, and the girl whipped her head back around, her eyes wide.

“Oh no, I’m going to be late!” She stood and hurriedly shut the lid of the pastry box before angling back toward the road. “H-have a nice day!”

“Wait!” Luka grabbed the girl’s wrist before she could barrel across to the campus. “You go to Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“I-uh, yes?”

“You don’t happen to know Juleka Couffaine, do you?”

The girl straightened and turned fully back toward Luka, her eyes flicking to where his fingers curled around her wrist. Her blush reemerged, albeit more brightly this time.

“I do! W-we’re in the game sass together! Well, I-I mean the same class,” she clarified nervously. “We’ve b-been in the same class. Together. Maybe we’ll be in the same class together again, this year, I mean.”

Luka just chuckled and grabbed the clip from where he had stuffed it in his pocket on the way out.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Ma-ma-Marinette.”

“Well, ma-ma-Marinette, if you happen to see Juleka, can you please give this to her?” With one hand still on her upturned wrist, Luka pressed the clip into her palm. “You can tell her that her brother Luka dropped it off.”

________

If she thought about it hard enough, Marinette could imagine she still felt the pressure on her hand from where the boy — well, where Luka — had pressed Juleka’s hair clip into her palm, even though weeks had gone by.

Juleka was, in fact, in her class again, which seemed to work to Marinette’s advantage.

As time went on, Luka made increasingly regular appearances after school, primarily to pick up Juleka and walk her back to the Liberty at the end of the day.

And if Marinette made the conscious decision to linger around the front steps of the school under the guise of sketching or organizing her backpack, who needed to be the wiser? (Albeit Tikki did occasionally chide her for running even later than usual.)

But every day that Luka took the time to stop, say hello, and ask to see her sketches, she knew that the loss of time was worth it. “Hey, Marinette!”

Absolutely worth it.

________

Despite the fact that everything had turned out well in the end, Luka wasn’t sure that his righteous anger that morning had been worth it.

And as much as he refused to show it, he felt a twisting pit of shame and apprehension in his stomach.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had just released him from Hawkmoth’s akuma, and he was about to take center stage with the rest of Kitty Section for their well-earned television debut. While this moment should have been exhilarating — triumphant, even — all he could think about was what Marinette must think of him now.

Marinette, who always went out of her way to help those around her.

Marinette, who spent what precious little time she had making costumes for the band.

Marinette, who was kind and gentle, and had now seen him at his worst.

Who had now seen him as a villain… literally.

Luka took a steadying breath, one thumb skimming nervously over his Kitty Section mask as he prepared to step out in front of the cameras… until he felt warm fingers encircling his wrist.

He half-turned, the pit in his stomach sinking even further.

“Luka?” Marinette stood there before him, one hand bashfully coming up to her face. “Did you really mean those things you said when you were akumatized?”

Wait, was she… blushing? No, that couldn’t be.

Not after today.

“I'm sorry, Marinette, but I don't remember,” Luka said slowly as the pit twisted itself into butterflies. “What did I say?”

“Uh, oh, n-nothing,” Marinette stuttered. She looked down and rubbed nervously at the back of her neck. “It was nothing at all. You were possessed by Hawkmoth's akuma.”

“I don't know what I possibly could've said. I just hope it wasn't anything mean, because—”

He had to tell her how he felt. Now. Because if he didn’t, what else was she supposed to think? What if what he said while he was akumatized made her think that he didn’t—

“—You're the most extraordinary girl, Marinette.” He grabbed her shoulders earnestly. “As clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. You’re the music that’s been playing inside my head since the first day we met.”

The words sat right on his tongue, as well-rehearsed as his fingers on the frets of his guitar. He squeezed his hands once more on her shoulders before turning around to take the stage.

Though he had just recovered from being Silencer, he thought, perhaps he still had one thing left to silence: His doubts.

________

Ladybug had little doubt in her decision today, even if she found herself gritting her teeth and bearing with the stench of Paris’s sewers — again.

Really, she and Chat Noir had made somewhat of a habit of coming down into the watery maze beneath the city, and she was beginning to think that it was time to find an alternative place to run and hide.

As much as she cared for the silly kitty, sometimes the time they spent alone became a little overwhelming, what with his constant flirtation and declarations of love. And coming down to the sewers didn’t exactly make his attempts seem any more romantic.

… Wait, in that case, maybe being in the sewers wasn’t too bad of an idea.

In any case, she had tried time and again to tell Chat Noir that she was in love with someone else — someone with deft fingers, blue hair, and eyes that were bluer still — but the blonde still didn’t seem to be deterred.

Which was what gave Ladybug the idea to bestow a Miraculous upon Luka.

He was a natural match for combat after all, right?

Luka, who was so level-headed.

Luka, who always took the time to think before acting or speaking.

Luka, who genuinely put the needs of others before himself.

He had demonstrated as much on the day they met, after all. Who else would make themself late to school not only to help an old man out of the street, but to also make sure his little sister had her favorite hair clip on hand?

Luka was selfless, caring, observant, cute—

Yes, that settled it: Luka was the perfect candidate for a Miraculous.

Today, Chat Noir seemed to think they should give this particular one to Adrien Agreste, but Marinette wasn’t so sure. Would the celebrity model really be cut out for an akuma battle, let alone one that had brought them down into the sewers?

Probably not.

Closing her eyes and ignoring the acrid stench of garbage as she sucked in a determined breath, Ladybug called Luka out of the locker Chat Noir had left him in. Hesitantly, he approached the spot where Ladybug stood by a metal ladder that led to the surface.

“Luka Couffaine,” she began. Gently, she turned his hand over and pressed a box into his palm, much in the way he had pressed a clip into hers some months ago. “This is the Miraculous of the Snake, which grants the power of Second Chance. You will use it for the greater good. Once the job is done, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you?”

Of course, she knew the answer even before Luka smiled and nodded.

His hands tightened around hers knowingly.

________

Of course, knowing and understanding were two very different things.

After Miracle Queen had come and unnerved all of the Miraculous wielders by revealing their identities, Ladybug, in particular, had seemed uncharacteristically dispirited. Even Chat Noir seemed to hold himself at arm’s length from the heroine, albeit Luka didn’t understand why.

Nor did he understand why, over the past several weeks, she had appeared at his window in frequent blurs of red and black, offering him time with Sass under the condition that he come out to patrol in Chat Noir’s place.

Of all the previously-exposed Miraculous holders, he was the only one she had recalled to the field, even though it was never for the express purpose of an akuma battle.

Now, racing along Paris’s rooftops, Viperion did his best not to pry, though he couldn’t help but feel concerned at the discordant melody that was all but radiating off the girl. Weeks had passed, but something about Ladybug was still off-beat.

Patrol that night was almost over and it was only getting more and more difficult not to ask questions, especially considering she—

“We’re here.”

Ladybug landed gracefully on the final rooftop of the evening, her expression indifferent as she hooked her yo-yo around her hip and looked out at the distant wash of lights across Paris. She released a silent sigh through her nose, the rise and fall of her shoulders otherwise betraying her neutral demeanor.

Viperion landed beside her, consciously restraining himself from coaxing a sad melody out of his lyre and asking, “Do you feel kind of like this?”

“Why don’t we stop to catch our breath?” he asked instead. “Before we go our separate ways, I mean.”

Ladybug’s gaze flicked up to him in question before softening a fraction.

“Sure,” she murmured, her softly-emerging smile a small victory in Viperion’s heart. “I brought a snack, anyway. Just in case we got hungry.”

As Viperion lowered himself to sit on the ledge of the roof, Ladybug padded to the opposite side, bending down to grab a pastry box before returning and perching herself next to him. As she opened the lid, Viperion didn’t try to suppress his own smile.

Pistachio green macarons sat in a neat row within the box, their fragile shells still perfectly in-tact.

“These look delicious,” he said, gently removing one with his right thumb and forefinger. His left hand skimmed distractedly over the hidden pocket of his Miraculous suit.

The two sat that way for several minutes, the silence of the night punctuated only by the occasional passing car or giggling civilian. Ladybug and Viperion, meanwhile, relished in the quiet anonymity provided by both the height and the shadows of the building they sat atop.

Eventually, Ladybug sighed once more — this time more audibly — and leaned to rest her head against Viperion’s shoulder.

“You’re unbelievably brave, you know.”

“What?” Ladybug lifted her head to look at him through her falling bangs.

“I said you’re incredibly brave,” he repeated, his eyes fixed forward. “And I just want you to know you don’t have to shoulder all of the burden on your own.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Ladybug’s brows furrowed. “I mean, I asked you to come out and help patrol with me, didn’t I?”

Viperion just chuckled once more, as he often did while contemplating how best to string his words together like a discernible song of their own.

“Yes, and I’m grateful you did,” he conceded. “But you and I both know that’s not all. And maybe that’s why I don’t feel any doubt, anymore.”

“What … what did you doubt?”

Luka paused a moment, his hand once more pressing against his pocket. This time, he pulled the contents out and curled his fingers around it protectively.

“I guess… I doubted that you wanted me to be there for you,” he said. “But, lately, you’ve been leaning on me more, both in and out of the suit—”

Ladybug gasped.

“—And that makes me happy.”

Viperion turned, grabbing Ladybug’s wrist with a feather-light touch. Turning her palm up, he pressed a small clip into her hand before closing her fingers. Then he pulled her in for a reassuring hug, careful to hold her gently enough that she could pull away if she wanted to.

He heard her sniff before he felt her burrow into his neck. His skin was cooled by the unexpected dampness of her cheeks.

“Juleka gave me her lucky hair clip several weeks ago,” he explained. “She said she hoped it would help me to find the luck and courage I needed to tell the girl I love about my feelings, which… I guess I already did. So this time, I’ll just tell you that I know what you’re facing and, if you ever need someone to shoulder more of the burden for you, I’ll always be here. My life is already filled with music, but you add the sweetest harmony of all, Marinette.”

Ladybug hiccuped, wrapping her arms hastily around Viperion’s waist. One hand remained fisted around the clip while the other pressed between his shoulder blades, silently asking him to hold her tighter.

So he did.

Humming the heartsong he had written for Marinette weeks ago, Viperion pressed his cheek into her hair and rubbed circles into her back. His body shook slightly as the girl gasped and wept, but he didn’t dare let go. Not until she was ready.

Several minutes later, her body had finally relaxed into his, the sobs gone and her breath evening out. His humming trailed off as she slowly unwound her arms from around him.

“I’m sorry, Luka,” she whispered as she pulled back and wiped at her face. “It’s all just been so much.”

“I know. And I’ll be here for you every step of the way, in whatever way you’ll have me.”

Finally, the girl smiled — the first real, genuine smile he had seen from her in weeks.

Viperion’s heart soared with relief.

“You’re right you know,” she said, uncurling her fingers to once more reveal the clip. “You didn’t need this lucky clip to tell me how you feel. Though, to be honest, I feel like I’m the lucky one.”

Slowly setting the clip down beside them, Ladybug reached up, pressing one hand to Viperion’s cheek and the other to the back of his head.

His eyes fell closed as he bent his head low, his lips catching hers just as she pressed closer to meet him. This time, his hands floated to her waist, the moment weaving a delicate new melody around him.

Her lips were softer than he’d ever imagined... and tasted faintly of pistachios.

No, he thought distantly. I’m definitely the lucky one.

[touyota]

Hoe Hoe Hoe

☁️ Summary: Satoru Gojo *cough* *cough* I mean Santa Claus jingles your bells on Christmas Eve.

A/N: y’all this fic whooped my ass literally, but i think it came out pretty good. i think my smut is getting better, so hopefully i keep the momentum going for all my future fics. (also ik i’m late for the holidays but better late than never!)

☁️ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Elf Reader

☁️ Warnings: Size kink, bulging, slight breeding kink, gojo’s massive 🐓

The holidays were always an overwhelming time at the workshop. You and your fellow elves worked overtime to fulfill the yearly abundance of Christmas lists that were received, and to be quite frank; you were due for a fucking break. As a head elf, you spent your days monitoring the shop floor and managing quality control. Everything and anything went through you, especially before it got to Santa.

You were handling a crisis on the floor, something about a particular video game console shortage, when you received a message from the big man himself.

“I swear... if I hear another word about how we are out of stock, I will personally shove a candy cane up your ass. We’re fucking elves, just go make some more.“ You shooed the elf off before taking a deep breath. You wanted to tear your hair out, every minor inconvenience didn’t require your assistance, yet they always found a way to you. In a last-ditch effort to keep your composure, you began to practice a method you learned in your weekly anger management meetings.

“One….two….three….four….five” You exhaled, opening your eyes to see a particular pink-haired headache, elf approaching waving and skipping towards you. You started counting faster; hopefully, he’d be gone at the end of your count.

“One..two..three..four..five”

“Boss! Oh, boss! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Fuck he was getting closer. You braced yourself, hoping he was referring to another supervisor standing near you.

“Onetwothreefourfiveonetwothreefourfiveonetwothreefourfive”

“What’s with the counting boss? You must be counting down the hours before we give everyone the best Christmas ever!” Yuji cheesed, barely able to contain his giddiness. Oh, bless his heart, Yuji was somewhat new to the shop and was a hard worker, but a few screws were missing upstairs.

“I have a bomb ticking inside my head.” you deadpanned, hoping to spook him off so you could go hide in your office.

“Oh…..Oh no, boss, you need to get checked out immediately, we need to call the police, the ambulance, the bomb squad, we might have to cancel Christmas. If we cancel Christmas, they won’t get their presents, and they’ll all be upset an-“ It was truly endearing. You could almost see the steam pouring from his ears as he panicked about you and your well-being. You pinched his lips shut before he managed to alert the rest of the workshop.

“Yuji, I was lying…what do you need?” The panic drained from his face, a relieved smile taking its place.

“The big man wants to see you, something about squashing a few last-minute details. He trailed off, focusing his attention on someone in the distance. “Nobara, stop drinking my eggnog, and don't touch my cookies!” Yuji ran off, thankfully abandoning your conversation.

You began your trek to the big man’s office, the big man being Satoru Gojo, direct descendant of Kris Kringle and newly appointed Santa Claus. Gojo was indeed an enigma, barely leaving his office only for special occasions such as Christmas Eve and Christmas itself. The only way you could speak to him was if he requested you directly.

The walk to the office required dragging yourself up to three flights of stairs before you reached the red door decorated with brightly colored green tinsel and oversized candy canes.

You made sure to knock, you weren’t completely devoid of manners, and you wanted to keep your job. A sultry voice sounded through the door.

“Come on in.” You gently open the door, almost tip-toeing in before slowly closing the door.

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. I don't bite unless you want me to.” You scurried towards the desk, not wanting to waste any more of his limited time.

“......Sorry, Mr. Claus, I came as soon as Yuji told me he said something about a few last-minute details.”

“He was right; come sit right here.” As inviting as he looked, patting his lap, you took several hesitant steps before perching yourself on his lap. “Get comfortable; we have a few things to discuss, nothing outrageous, just a few... things.” You played the velvet fabric of your skirt as he droned off about the minor details that could’ve been dealt with by any other elf. You grunted in response to the open-ended questions asked. “I think that’s it. Did you get all that?” He skimmed through his never-ending checklist to confirm.

“Oh...um, yes, I did, in fact, I’ll go deal with that right now.” You dust your lap off and lean forward to push up off of the oversized chair. Only to find that you haven’t moved an inch. “Um…...Mr. Claus…I can’t move, and I need to….” you trailed off, disrupted by a gloved hand tilting your chin, forcing you to look directly into those soft blue eyes.

“Tsk tsk tsk, I knew you weren’t paying attention, puddin’.” He faked a face of hurt before using the arm that wasn’t wrapped around your waist to swipe his cluttered desk clear. “I said that-” Pausing to slam your form down unto the oversized desk. “I said that all I want for Christmas is to fuck you until this desk breaks.” He whispered, pressing several gentle kisses along the column of your neck. The room temperature had increased tremendously, and the red wool suit pressed against you made it no better.

“Uh...wow...um, it’s getting kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” You pulled at your collar, hoping to put some kind of separation between you two. You were in no way trying to reject his advances. You were just entirely ambushed by how fast things were moving. Another urgent concern was the sheer size of “Santa.” You were already genetically disadvantaged in the height category as an elf, but this behemoth of a man towered over you. It left you to believe that he was more than proportionate in the nether regions.

“I think you’re right. See, that’s exactly why you’re my right-hand puddin’.” Before you could blink, you were almost instantly rid of your gown, leaving you in your unfortunately modest black undergarments. You pouted, wishing you were given some kind of warning in advance. “Poor baby, next time I’ll let you get all dolled up for me, maybe I’ll wrap you up with a bow and leave you under my tree.” You couldn’t contain your whimper at the thought, roping your legs around his waist, mimicking the same motion with your arms around his neck.

A loud horn sounded off, signaling Santa’s departure was nearing. “As much as I’d love to sit and ravish you till dawn, duty calls.” You were drawn into several more gentle kisses before Gojo deepened the kiss, nearly smothering you. You were on the brink of suffocation when he finally eased up, allowing you to catch your breath. when you felt your panties tugged to the side. “You have such a pretty pussy puddin’. I could sit here and play with it all day long.” Two callused fingers daintily drew circles around your clit, stopping to pull at the sensitive nub causing you to whine at each tug.

“Ah- p-please...Santa” You couldn’t wait anymore. Each stroke brought you closer and closer to your peak.

“Please, what pretty girl? I won’t know until you tell me.” Purposely speeding up his ministrations.

“Please...please...please...fuck me.” You cried out, you could barely contain yourself, and he wasn’t making it any better.

The air knocked out of your chest as the blunt tip of his cock breached your entrance. There was a brief pause before Gojo’s hips slammed forward, setting a brutal pace. You couldn’t form any thought, only incoherent mumbles, and whimpers leaving your mouth. The desk was rocking with each thrust, nearly throwing you off.

“Y-you feel so fucking good, ugh...this sweet little pussy sucking me in. You like that, huh? Using you like a little fuck toy? Y-yeah, you’re Santa’s little fuck toy, you just lay there and look pretty, and I’ll fuck you full of my kids. I’ll make you Mrs. Claus, and you won’t have to work in that shitty little workshop anymore. How does that sound?” Gojo’s cock pounding away at your cervix, blurring the lines of pain and pleasure.

You could almost cry because it all sounded fucking amazing. You were floating on a cloud each stroke. The rhythm was slowing to deep, deliberate thrusts when you felt an oversized hand rest on your belly.

…….Holy shit.

You nearly fainted seeing the outline of his massive cock bulge through your belly. You could tell Gojo was close, skin slapping as his thrusts sped up again. The final press of his palm forcing you over, and Gojo the same with his final thrust. Both of you were murmuring and moaning as he nudged into another breath-taking kiss. The desk finally loses its bearing and falls apart, leaving you both as panting messes on the ground.

You had wood chips in places that they shouldn’t be, and the chuckling giant next to you wasn’t helping. Your quirked an eyebrow up and questioned him. “What’s so funny?”

“I think I need to add a new desk to my Christmas list.”

[marvelousstevetony]

hi you’re so wonderful. Could you possibly write nose kisses + “You’ve sneezed four times. That’s not like you.” from the prompt list you posted for Sam and Bucky ♥️♥️

Omg, thank you, anon! You’re wonderful, and I hope you’ll like this small fic of sick!Bucky and a very sweet Sam taking care of him. I know this is another old prompt, but hopefully you’ll see this anyway!♥️

-----------

Sam sighs as he closes the door behind him and dumps his back on the floor. Shrugging off his jacket, he simultaneously toes off his shoes, and he nearly stumbles when his left sneaker doesn’t come as easily as the right one did. He looks down at his feet and glares at the shoe as if it had been trying to kill him.

Well, it kinda had, Sam thinks to himself. He could’ve fallen over and hit his head and he could’ve died, and it would definitely have been the shoe’s fault and not because Sam was too lazy to untie the laces and— wait. Sam stops his train of thought when he notices Bucky’s shoes are in the hallway, which they shouldn’t be. Sam is sure Buck had said that he’d be in debrief way past dinnertime.

He shoots one last glance at the potentially lethal shoe and kicks it out of his way and heads towards the kitchen to grab a drink before hunting down his boyfriend. It’s a surprisingly easy hunt, though, because Bucky is standing at the kitchen counter when Sam enters the room.

Bucky’s wearing a thick knit sweater that he’d once stolen from Steve, and his hair’s pulled into a small bun at the nape of his neck. Sam can’t help but smile into the soft, navy material when he comes up and hugs Bucky from behind, nuzzling his face between Bucky’s shoulder blades. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Bucky chuckles softly and places his right hand on top of one of Sam’s, giving it a small squeeze.

“You’re home already,” Sam says gratefully. “Did debrief finish early?”

“Uh… snff! Yeah, kind of. We’re finishing up tomorrow.”

Sam hums in acknowledgement and plants a kiss on Bucky’s shoulder before pulling away to fetch a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. He takes a long gulp of it and sets the glass on the counter, then goes to open the fridge and frowns at it when he realizes it’s empty. Or, well, basically empty, apart from milk, a couple of eggs, a few bell peppers and some other basic stuff. Not enough to make dinner out of, though.

“I didn’t think you’d be home, so I didn’t go shopping for groceries,” Sam explains when Bucky asks why he’s staring off into the fridge. “If I’d known you’d be back so soon I would’ve made you dinner, but…”

“We can— snff! We can just order in,” Bucky says. “What… snf! d-do you waahh- huh? huh… uhhUSH’ooo!”

“Bless you!” Sam exclaims and turns to look at Bucky, who’s rubbing at his nose with knuckles, eyes narrowed and mouth hanging slightly agape. He presses a bent index finger to his septum, but whether he’s trying to hold off the building tickle in his nose or coax out another sneeze, Sam can’t tell. It’s the latter that wins, because after a few hitching breaths and a final desperate gasp, Bucky yanks the collar of the sweater over his mouth and nose, succumbing to the sneezy sensation.

“huhh… uhhETCH’oo! ehhh… EIShoo! Hh! UhTSHHh’uh!”

Three strong sneezes rush over him, his shoulders tensing with the force of them, making his body jerk a little forward each time.

“Jesus, bless you, Buck,” Sam says, his tone now somewhere between protective and concerned. “You’ve sneezed four times. That’s not like you.”

Bucky sniffles a good few times before releasing his grip of the sweater and swipes at his nose with the back of his wrist instead. “Snf! Sorry,” he murmurs, voice congested and raspy. “Than’gks,” he adds when Sam pulls out a couple of tissues from the box on the counter and hands them to him.

He gives a couple of useless blows that makes him cough more than it helps clear out his sinuses, and he ends up doing more coughing and snuffling into them than anything else.

“You sound horrible,” Sam states and grimaces when Bucky draws in a breath and waits for another sneeze to overcome him. It doesn’t come though, and all Bucky is left with is an itchy and fuzzy feeling in his head, which he tries to ward off by shaking his head, then lets out a defeated, stuffy sigh. “And you look even worse,” Sam continues when he gets a good look of Bucky for the first time since he came home.

His eyes are all watery and tired looking, and the purplish bags underneath them could rival Steve’s from that time he went three days without sleeping on a mission and came home exhausted and hurt and sick. Additionally, Bucky’s cheeks are flushed the same bright red colour as his nose, which also looks like it’s been abused by rough tissue paper and the cuff of his sweater all day.

“Fuck off, Wilson,” Bucky grumbles, but there’s no fire to it, no real annoyance. Not at Sam, anyway, probably more at the state he’s in. “You’re just… snf! Just repeating what Steve told mbe all day.”

Ah. “So that’s why you’re home early?” Sam realizes. “So Rogers is the one I have to thank for getting my boyfriend all to myself on a Wednesday evening. How did he manage to convince you to go home?” He asks, impressed that even Steve could get him to resign to this monster of a cold.

Bucky ducks his head with a shy smile and rubs the back of his neck. “Said he’d walk me down to med himself if I refused to go home…”

“Buck,” Sam breathes sympathetically and comes to stand next to Bucky, who’s still leaning against the counter. Sam brings a hand to Bucky’s hair and pulls it out of the bun. He snaps the band around his wrist before threading his fingers through the long, dark locks. “He thinks you need to go to med?”

Bucky shakes his head, then clears his throat. “Ndo I— snf! He knows I hate it down there, so threatening to take me there was probably just his way to make sure I went home.”

“Hmm… He’s a smart guy.”

Bucky chuckles at that, low and congested, but it makes him smile, and seeing the way the corners of Bucky’s mouth curl upwards makes Sam smile, too.

“Alright, I’ll order dinner for us. What do you want? Italian? Good,” Sam decides when Bucky nods. “Go huddle up on the couch, I’ll come after I’ve showered, okay?”

Bucky nods again and starts to pull back a little, but Sam stops him before he can get too far away and leans in close enough to brush his lips over the tip of Bucky’s nose. Although the kiss is gentle and feather-light, Bucky nose twitches, and he has to duck his head to rub it against his index finger. When he looks back up at Sam, he has this bashful look on his face that makes him look even cuter than Sam thought possible, and if Sam hadn’t already decided that Bucky needs to relax, he probably — no, definitely — would’ve pulled Bucky into a deep, warm kiss that left both of their lips numb and wanting more. But that’s not what Bucky needs right now. Right now, he needs food, a fresh box of tissues, maybe a cup of tea later and maybe even some of the cold-medicine Sam insists they keep in stock. Just in case, he always says.

“Okay, to the couch you go,” Sam sighs and nudges Bucky’s shoulder when he feigns a pout and tries to nestle into Sam’s embrace again. Rolling his eyes when Bucky looks at him through his thick lashes, Sam pokes softly at Bucky’s side. “Stop with the puppy eyes, Barnes, and a go sit your ass down.”

With a small grin, Bucky heads for the living room, leaving Sam to order dinner and clean up before joining him.

Dinner arrives about thirty minutes later. They eat on the couch, cuddled up in a nest of blankets and pillows while some horrible reality show is playing on the tv. Sam doesn’t know why they’re even watching it, but it’s entertaining enough that neither of them want to sacrifice how comfortable they are to reach the remote.

Through it all, Bucky has been sniffling and sneezing into the tissues Sam brought with him to the couch, and by the time Sam’s going to make tea, the box is empty.

“Umb, Sam? Do you snf— snff! Do you thin’gk you could mbe sombe more tissues?” Bucky asks as his eyes begin to glaze over, lashes fluttering wildly before he pushes a crumpled tissue against his nose and gives into the sneezes. “H’uhh… UhhIShoo! Oh… snf! Heh—? ehh… ehCH’sshh! EISHh’oo!”

“You’ve really got the sniffles today, don’t you?” Sam jokes as he gets to his feet, but his voice is warm and fond.

“Shud up, Sam,” Bucky huffs. “Just get me the damn tissues, will ya?”

Sam holds his hands up in surrender and laughs. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’ll get you tea and tissues,” he says and comes back with a new box of Kleenex and a steaming cup of tea five minutes later. He put the cup on the coffee table, and drops the box of tissues onto Bucky’s lap before dropping himself right down next to Bucky, holding his arms out for Bucky to cuddle into to, and how could Bucky reject such an invitation?

Within a few seconds, Bucky is settled in good and close in Sam’s embrace, Bucky’s head resting against Sam’s chest. It’s nice like this, Sam thinks. It’s nice that they can have this, that they let themselves have this. And in this instant, Sam’s gaze wanders over Bucky screen-lit face, letting himself dwell in the stillness and bliss of the moment. It’s simple, but it’s perfect, and suddenly an overwhelming sense of home surges through Sam, a feeling that makes his breath catch in his chest. When Bucky looks up at him with questioning blue eyes, silently asking him if he’s alright, Sam just smiles and gently cups Bucky’s jaw in his palm, angling his head in just the right position for Sam to lean down and place a kiss right on the bridge of Bucky’s nose.

[yongiefilms]

TO BE A MAYBE.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: fluff; childhood friends to lovers!au

warnings: swearing; mentions of heartbreak; a certain someone is an ass in this fic so i think that should count

word count: 1.5k

summary: you never pictured that it would take your ex-boyfriend walking back into your life for you to start seeing lee jeno as something more than your friend.

“What the actual fuck?” you exclaimed out of pure and utter disbelief. You were stunned to say the least and just couldn’t grasp the fact that he walked through the door. The boy you once loved with your whole heart, but now despised to the inner core of your being.

Lee Donghyuck.

He strolled into the small coffee shop at an hour past two, striding in with all his golden glory. His hair was still that light chestnut color, but it was longer with the lengthy locks falling right above his deep eyes. He was wearing that overly worn blue Hawaiian shirt that you recall telling him you hated even if you secretly preferred it because Hawaiian shirts looked good on him, with the two top buttons undone to showcase a little bit of his chest. His silver necklaces could be seen on full display underneath and they slightly glistened when the fluorescent lights caught hold of them. His jeans were his signature black ones that were ripped at the knees and his extended silver chain was hooped to his black belt that brushed against his right thigh when he moved. He also wore his old faded black converse that scuffed against the tiled floor and skidded to a halt when he arrived at the counter. He was smirking at the female employee, eyeing her up and down when she wasn’t looking as he recited his order of a medium mocha Frappuccino. You rolled your eyes, how classic of him.

You were glad he didn’t notice you huddled in the corner of the shop when he eyed the scene around him to check for an open spot to sit, but you couldn’t help the ache you felt in your chest.

“Hey Y/N, you alright?” a soft voice asked behind you, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You turned around to answer right when you saw Donghyuck settle down at the nearest table to the entrance to wait for his order to be called.

“Yeah Jeno, I’m fine.” You forced a smile onto your face to reassure him that you indeed meant your words. However, immediately after the statement came out your mouth, you couldn’t help but be drawn to twisting your body back to Donghyuck, like second nature. He always seemed to catch your attention even without trying. You still saw him in his seat, his eyes trained on his phone as his fingers mindlessly tapped against the screen.

As if sending what a nonsense of an answer you gave him, especially when you cursed ever so loudly a few minutes ago, Jeno followed your line of sight straight to the boy in question. You couldn’t see the way his eyes softened, but not out of pity or remorse. No, his eyes eased out of understanding. He knew you were struggling out of a suffering you didn’t want to admit and sensing that you needed some form of comfort, he reached over to place his hand on top of yours. You were startled by the heat that suddenly spread throughout your whole body at his simple touch. You felt tingles erupt from the top of your head to the soles of your feet and you could feel the loud beating in your chest. Your entire nature was affected because Lee Jeno, your sweet childhood friend directly made contact with your skin. You had to get ahold of yourself before he could evidently hear how rapid your heart was beating or see the embarrassment in your face. He wouldn’t point it out since he was too nice for his own good, but you still couldn’t let him see how he influenced you so drastically when you couldn’t even think of seeing him in the light of being something more to you.

After composing yourself and absentmindedly following the movements of Donghyuck as he rose up from his chair to proceed towards the counter to pick up his order, you forced your eyes away from your first love. It was over and there was no going back, why torture yourself further?

The smile that slipped onto your face when you turned to Jeno again was genuine and you were glad he didn’t offer any remarks of solace once he saw the other boy in the shop. He knew and his silence was enough. Your fingers curved up to intertwine with his own and you felt him give you a reassuring squeeze back. Things were effortless with Jeno. He knew what to do or say without ever truly voicing his opinions. His lucid gestures and gazes were enough. He made you feel safe, warm, and adored. Things you desired more than anything, especially during a time in your life when all you knew was torment from your broken soul, something that was still healing.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” A honey voice spoke out, jolting both you and Jeno in your seats. There, in front of your table stood Donghyuck with his medium mocha Frappuccino in one hand and his other fixed in his front pocket. “My ex-best friend and my-ex girlfriend together? Who would have thought this…” he gestured between your two intertwined hands with his eyebrows raised. “Would have happened after my departure from both of your lives.” He brought the straw up to his lips to take a sip. “It is surprising I must admit, but not unexpected. I always knew something was there even before I started dating Y/N. You just can’t control yourself, huh Jeno? Always going after what’s mine, even before we ever became best friends.” Donghyuck rolled his eyes and smirked in Jeno’s direction.

“Oh fuck off, Donghyuck,” Jeno uttered out abruptly, shocking both you and Donghyuck. Jeno never cursed no matter how much he was annoyed or angered. He never let his emotions get the best of him. He was the calm and leveled one, not the hot headed one. It indeed was astonishing to see him act out so publicly just because Donghyuck provoked him. This never happened before even when Donghyuck instigated him in the past. Why become irritable now?

“Getting bold are we? I must have hit a nerve. You wouldn’t have spoken out unless it was true,” Donghyuck snickered, making clear eye contact with Jeno as if he was challenging him.

It was now your opportunity to speak up. To defend yourself and most importantly the charming boy who had his hand entangled in yours.

“Shut the fuck up, Lee. Why are you bothering us? We are none of your concern anymore so get lost,” you sternly declared and glared up in his direction. He was still standing before you, his arrogance emitting very prominently, it was almost suffocating.

“My dearest Y/N, you wound me. Why can’t I be a good person and come over to say hi? Am I seriously that bad? Did I hurt you that much?” He pointed at himself and let his hand drop to his side as he mockingly laughed at you.

You gritted your teeth. “Screw you.”

You felt Jeno tighten his grip on your hand and give you a squeeze. Donghyuck’s eyes zoned in on the action and he scoffed.

“Just leave. Don’t make me tell you again.” Jeno harshly said and scowled at Donghyuck. He put his hands up and backed away from the table, but right when he did so his phone dinged. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket with his free hand and stared at the screen, chuckling at whatever notification appeared. He smugly glanced at the both of you, tilting his head as his hair fell over his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll leave, not because you told me to, but because I have somewhere to be.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket and took another taste of his drink. “I wish you the best of luck in your little fling you have going here. I would say relationship, but considering you both, especially Y/N’s trust problems, I say it won’t last long.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but you felt Jeno position his arm over your shoulders to hug you close to his body, stopping you from what you were going to say. He brought his head alongside yours and whispered in your ear. “He’s not worth it.”

Donghyuck’s snigger rang loud. You forgot he was still there as you never did see him go. “Yeah right.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Until we meet again.” He nodded at Jeno then gave a small, teasing wave to you and pivoted on his heels to finally depart, not opting to wait for a goodbye greeting from either of you, although you wouldn’t have given him one even if he asked. He didn’t deserve it, nor was he worthy to have your heart in the first place since all he would do was crush it with his bare hands.

So when you heard the ding of the shop’s bell and the slam of the door of what you presumed to be Donghyuck leaving, you knew that Jeno would still be there right next to you and would be the one to yet again, pick of the pieces of your ever recovering, fragile heart. He was your rock, your stronghold and maybe he could be your next love, just maybe.

[jojo-reader-hell]

oh! speaking of the wolf fic that anon was talking about, would you make a part 2 for that? maybe they finally caught the little wolf pup and she gets to meet the rest of the wolf clan of her family. it'd be to cute to see a wolf as massive as the jojo's be around such a smol bean XP

Ask and ye shall receive... like, months later 😂 sorry it took so long, hope you’ll enjoy!

...

“Bunny, don’t you remember your Papa Jojo? I used to hold you and feed you your bottle. Remember? We would cuddle with your blankie and your stuffed rabbit.”

“No! Leave me alone!”

You’re currently wedged into a tight space under an old tree root system. It’s a painful fit, but you’re not going to come out for anything. Especially not with the blue black muzzle of the large wolf at the entrance, currently trying to coax you out of your hiding place. The muzzle is peppered with grey hairs, and a very deep familiar voice emits from the shiny white fanged mouth in a rumble. When you yap at him to go away he whimpers, pushing his nose further into the tight space as he tries to dig you out. It only succeeds in making you press tightly against the root wall behind you, entire body shaking and muscles aching from the twisted position you’re contorted into.

“Bunny please!” He whines.

“Help! Help! Monster! Mama help!” Your barking almost sounds desperate, like you’re being tortured and it makes the bigger wolf howl in frustration, his digging more frantic as he tries to get you out.

“Jojo stop it! You’re scaring the baby!”

A sweet voice barks away the large wolf from digging, taken over by a cream pair of paws even lighter than your mother’s coloration.

“Stop digging. You’re only going to scare the baby even more.” A soft voice admonishes the beast and makes him whine in submission.

“But look how far they are, all the way in the back, what if my Bunny becomes trapped forev-...”

“Shhh... let me try.”

Another muzzle visible next to that of the blue black wolf appears, and a sweet voice tries to beckon you out. Both the newcomer’s scents confuse you, because even though they have that canine whiff about them you can still smell an underlying note that’s definitely more human than anything. It’s a clean smell, just like the Castile soap your mother often uses to clean the laundry because of Jotaro’s sensitive skin. Totally not the comforting patchouli scent of your mother nor is it Jotaro’s stinky musk, so even though it’s a good smell, you don’t have any positive connections to it. It’s foreign and scary, and you begin to whine for your mother.

“Baby, come to your Mama Erina.” the sweet voice coos to you. “Come on out my darling, don’t be frightened. We’re your family and we all are here to help you.”

You’re completely silent, wide eyed as you see her soft blue eye peer through the entrance. Never in your life have you seen something as big as she is (Good Lord, she’s even bigger than your mother!), her cream colored fur is almost white with age. Her mouth rests in an almost human like smile, and her black nose moves as though she’s taking in your scent.

“Come on darling.” She says, extending a paw as though you’ll take it. “Come to me. Come to your Mama Erina who loves you.”

Whoever she is, she most certainly is NOT your Mama. You can see her deeply pigmented gums and threatening pearly white fangs as she talks, and this only cements your stubborn refusal as you duck further into your crevice.

It’s not long before more voices join in, words intermingling with howling and snarling.

“Mother? Mother?! Did you find them?”

“Granny! I looked everywhere and couldn’t find the baby!”

“Jojo, Georgie, come here. I found them.”

Vaguely, you hear the familiar voice of your grandpa Joseph, a wheeze evident in his voice as he’s had a hard time catching up with the rest of the cacophony of paws. You can hear your mother too, conversing with your brother who is grumbling about having to follow you all the way out here and abandon the meal your grandpa had brought for you.

“My Bunny...” moans the blue black wolf in despair.

“Oh land sake’s Jojo stop it.” Scolds the white wolf.

“Mama Erina, maybe I should try getting them out?” Holly is most certainly worried, there’s a tinge to her voice that almost coaxes you to her, but you won’t stir a stump if everyone else is out there.

“You can try, but I’m not sure there’s a way with everyone crowding.” Erina from the sounds of things is still trying to console the one calling you Bunny (you suppose he’s called Jonathan because that’s what they keep saying when they comfort him).

Your mother tries to help, unfortunately compared to the others she’s got stumpy paws that won’t quite reach you, and even though she’s calling and calling for you telling you it’s alright, you won’t move.

“Papa, do you think you’ll have any more luck coaxing out the baby?” She finally sighs.

“‘Course I can! I guarantee I can make my baby pop right out of there like a cork from a bottle!”

“You be careful with my Bunny!” It’s the blue black wolf again, Jonathan, reluctantly moving aside to allow your grandpa access to you.

It was quite surreal to see your once human grandfather as a wolf, Grandpa Joseph’s pelt is much the same as his regular hair color, a deep hickory peppered with the beginning signs of gray. He grunts with the effort of laying down on the forest floor. When he exhales a whoosh of air, his scent completely fills the little space. Wonderful, memorable with the musk of his deodorant and leaving a sweet after smell, sugary like the cola he likes to drink with you on hot days.

“Come on baby. Grandpa’s here.” Joseph coaxes out to you softly.

“Vieni qui vita mia... Granny is here for you too.”

You hear the sweet soft dulcet tones of your granny Suzie using that almost crying tone of voice, that kind she used to use when you were a little kid and you hurt yourself.

“Granny?”

Your high pitched voice strikes a nerve among the creatures present, and you see another cream colored snout press into the entrance. Immediately you recognize the scent. It’s your grandma Suzie Q! You know her smell anywhere: a heady cloud of White Diamonds perfume with just a touch of amaretto.

“Will you come out for me? Please baby? It’s alright. Granny won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You’re almost ready to come out, slowly wedging your way to the entrance where your grandparents soothe you out little by little. But the minute you push your head through the tiny opening you know something is wrong. You scream in your puppy voice, afraid that now you can’t get out as everyone moves in all at once.

“Stay still.”

A deep feminine voice barks out a command, the approach of a brown wolf silenced all of you into submission. She sniffs around you, noticing your little paw that’s caught in a root and nudging it with her muzzle. Her teeth are unnervingly close, you’re unsure if her exposed teeth are a threat display. Her smell is almost indistinguishable from the damp forest soil, completely odorless and lacking the canine whiff, but there’s an underlying musk of pine sap emitting from her pelt that is all too familiar. A memory threatens: being cuddled to a bare chest in midwinter, chapped lips grazing your cheek as you doze off lazily. It’s not your mother who held you during that time. It was the strong human form of the wolf before you, formidable in such a way that suggests her humanity is just as feral as when she is a wolf.

“Move your paw this way.” She commands and nudges at the same time.

You’re so frightened you obey automatically. Not even stopping when she takes you by the scruff in her mouth and helps to yank you out from your prison. You expect her teeth to hurt, but your skin is so pliable on the back of your neck you hardly feel a thing as she pulls you free and into her furry stomach. With her paw, she presses you to the softness of her underbelly, a long wet tongue lathing along the sides of your face as the shewolf begins to clean you meticulously.

You suddenly know her now... so many more memories of her and what had to have been her mate keeping you warm between the two of them as you reached for their faces. The memories are soothing, coming back fast and as if they’ve always been there, just like the memory of your mother laying you on a massive man’s chest, his blue black hair wild and unkempt as he lifts you up to kiss you. Or the memory of another woman with your Granny Suzie, the two of them swaddling you up and hardly able to contain their soft giggles as they place a small hat on your head.

Another wolf, this one nearly a carbon copy of your grandpa, laths at your face with his tongue, telling you in a deep baritone that he’s your great grandpa George and he’s so happy to see you again. Holly approaches and begins naming the ones you don’t recognize in the group, each one submissive when they press against her to get to you. You’re even comfortable enough to allow the wolf that calls himself your Papa Jonathan to shower you in his dog kisses, tail wagging a mile a minute as he squeals about how much he’s missed you, and how he’s got an important gift to give you so you won’t ever get lost again. His mate, your Mama Erina, rubs her head against yours, tail swishing politely as she praises you for how you’ve grown up so wonderfully. All the while everyone crowds around into a big pile of swishing tails, whines, kisses, and reassurances that your big, warm, happy family will help take care of you as you navigate this scary situation.

It’s the one who helped you out, your great Granny Lisa Lisa, that breaks wolf form to place your Papa Jonathan’s old collar around your neck, the little bell makes such a pleasant sound as she flicks it gently.

“For next time.” She advises, “That way when you try to run, you’ll know I’ll grab you by the collar.”

Everyone laughs, adding in how Holly should keep you on a leash, and you’re so overwhelmingly happy you can’t help but to join in the laughter with them.

It’s nice, you decide, to belong to such an unusual family.

[evak-fic-rec-turtleanon]

Evak Fics - Drunk

For the anon from this ask. I've had this in my drafts for a while. It's not complete.

PLEASE READ THE TAGS OR ANY WARNINGS ON THE FICS FIRST.

***** Both are drunk ***** Drunk Even ***** Drunk Isak ***** Bonus - not actually drunk ***** WIP

***** BOTH ARE DRUNK *****

You're Mine by bluexside (1.6k words) - Isak and Even are drunk at a party. Isak gets jealous when he sees Even flirting with a girl, which leads to a drunk angry, mostly stupid, fight.

"let's not think about what brought us here, yeah?." by bazsucks (3.4k words) - What if Eskild had never found Isak at a gay bar at 2 A.M? What if a handsome stranger with squinty blue eyes did? Not very drunk

not a big deal by Anonymous (4.3k words) - Even stared for a few more seconds, unable to fathom why Julian thought this was a good idea, to hurt Isak’s feelings. And yes, Even was mad at the situation at hand, but he knew he couldn’t do what Isak was asking. Neither of them were in the right mindset to do anything, whether it got anywhere sexual or not. They were both drunk and it would be unfair to both of them. It wasn’t right. He knew that. But Even leaned in and kissed Isak anyway.

Into the Night, With You by cuteandtwisted (11k words) - a drunk Isak runs into a strange boy with perfect hair who insists on fixing his boring summer in one night.

***** DRUNK EVEN *****

i can't kiss you if you drink vodka by hippopotamus (587 words) - even is drunk and clingy and isak kinda sorta loves it

Study Break by sweeterthankarma (1k words) - Jonas-” Isak starts, warning, because Even can send some pretty, well...personal things when he’s drunk and/or high— and of course, he must have done exactly that, because Jonas’s eyebrows immediately shoot up, his expression going from intrigued to amused.

Without you I've got no air to breathe in by bluesterek (4.4k words) - Isak is in love with Even. Even is drunk. Even is flirty when drunk.

***** DRUNK ISAK *****

And He Calls Me Moonlight, too by tiptopevak (263 words) - He’s drunk and stumbly and his lips taste sharp like a lick of blue-raspberry vodka, but he’s soft and safe in Even’s arms.

I'll always be there by evaklark (orphan_account) (532 words) - Isak couldn't help but feel a little lost in this definitely not sober state he was in. From an outsiders point of view, he most likely looked like one of those pervy jerks who jacks off to lesbian porn and then makes fun of gay guys. However, Isak just had a very hot boyfriend who was spending way too much time without him.

S'more Than Enough by i_once_wrote_a_dream (691 words) - “S’mores, s’mores, s’mores!” Isak becomes a petulant child when properly drunk.

Don’t Worry Isak, We’ll Get You A Cute Girl by cami_soul (804 words) - Isak is drunk at a party and the boy squad decides to find him a cute girl to hook up with - only it doesn’t quite turn out as they planned. There is a blindfold, there is kissing, there is sweet gooey fluff.

that boy is mine by orphan_account (1k words) - someone tries to touch Isak while he's drunk at a party and Isak is a bit nervous about Even finding out (mind the trigger warning)

with the fume of sighs by slvtherxn (1.1k words) - Of course he had had invited Even along, but Isak didn’t need to be held back by his tired, sober boyfriend. (Isak comes home drunk and sappy to Even.)

i'll be coming for your love by ihatefindingusernames (1.1k words) - Even didn’t know how Mikael managed to drag him to a karaoke bar on a Friday night when he could have spent it rewatching his favorite movies, but there he was.

Don't You Let Me Go Tonight by isakbeanie (1.1k words) - Basically, Isak gets tipsy at a party and Even gets jealous about some things that go down.

can i borrow a kiss? by spoopydumpling (1.2k words) - The boys pregame at Isak and Even's place, then head off to a party with a large amount of drinking and a whole lot of flirting.

drunk in love by blondwaves (1.2k words) - Isak shows up drunk at Evens at 3am, confessions and kissing

(Drunk) In Love by verlore_poplap (orphan_account) (1.5k words) - Isak falls in love at first sight. Too bad he's drunk off his ass when it happens. (some dubious consent)

Vodka kisses by Bellakitse (1.5k words) - Isak likes to kiss Even when he drinks, which would be fine if they were actually together. Magnus and Mahdi finally clue him in.

Curiosity by podicus (1.5k words) - At a pregame at Isak’s, Vilde is curious how Isak knew he had feelings for Even. Isak, meanwhile, just can’t stop thinking about his boyfriend.

can you blow my whistle, baby. by milominderbinder (1.5k words) - It's a normal Friday night in Isak's life. Just five guys, hanging out drunk at McDonalds in the middle of the night, talking about blowjobs, trying to deep-throat coke bottles. That sort of thing.

I may be hurt but doesn’t mean I don’t love you by Evakfiction (1.5k words) - Isak is drunk and jealous. When they get home, it gets out of hand.

the softest proposal by Bellakitse (1.6k words) - A drunk and high Isak shares something with Even he wasn't ready to share.

Sweet by Lisforlove (1.9k words) - Isak is drunk and needy.

Hot Mess by sweeterthankarma (2k words) - It’s Isak’s first time drinking expensive whiskey. Even thinks it should be his last.

don’t try to fight it by orphan_account (2k words) - This takes place sometime between the Christmas party at the end of season 3 and the beginning of season 4, hence Isak still living in the kollektiv. A warning: Even fucks Isak while he's drunk and they don't use condoms.

cards and drunken propositions by Bellakitse (2.1k words) - Isak doesn't remember the night before but he knows he made a fool of himself in front of this crush.

Through The Night by Lisa94 (2.3k words) - "AU where drunk isak pees on some stranger's car on his way home after partying all night. the thing is, there is someone in the car"

retired from logic, new career in happy by sophly (2.3k words) - Jonas POV. The one where Isak is drunk and sappy and Jonas can’t stop thinking about the inevitability of teenage relationships.

You're Not Tall Enough by wordsarelifealways (2.3k words) - Isak manages to get so wasted that he doesn't recognise Even and proceeds to tell Even all about his hot boyfriend waiting for him at home.

smoke in the air, binge drinking by boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug (2.3k words) - Isak accidentally gets wasted at a house party and Even is there for his boyfriend.

maybe i'll get drunk by hippopotamus (2.4k words) - theres a really hot third year around, and the only way isak knows to deal with it is alcohol

if you have lost a right track then i'll lead you right back by kittenmichael (2.4k words) - “Even,” he whispers, as if it’s a secret Norway’s nights shouldn’t hear, “my tongue feels really weird.”Even chuckles at his boyfriend’s antics, before realising that he’s genuinely confused. “Kind of like cotton?”

Baby... I AM EVEN THE BOYFRIEND! by Evakkk (2.4k words) - The boy squad get Even to come pick Isak up when he gets to drunk to handle...

pool full of liquor by thekardemomme (3k words) - Isak gets drunk and runs away from his friends, and Even seizes the opportunity to be his knight in shining armor. May as well be Shakespeare.

boy, you make me make bad decisions by hippopotamus (3.2k words) - In which Isak is way too drunk, way too dramatic, and his ex is making out with someone else.

Boys' night + Even by skampanda (3.2k words) - Drunk Isak was the best Isak, according to Magnus. He became super comfortable with himself and talked like non-stop about his beautiful boyfriend. There was just one slight problem- when drunk, Isak is super needy.

Ready to Jingle Your Bells by MacksDramaticShenanigans (3.6k words) - It was truly a testament to how drunk Isak was when rather than vehemently denying the request or furiously shaking his head and pushing everyone away, he set his glass down and determinately rose to his feet. And there was also the fact that Isak— sober or drunk— was never one to turn away from any sort of challenge, and Mikael’s wording certainly posed this as one. (Of course, there was also the fact that Even did sing him a song, and what kind of a boyfriend would he be if he didn’t serenade Even right back?)

Drunk Dialing by isakvaltertrash (johntracythatsall) (3.6k words) - “I miss you, and I– I hate you, how could you just, you just left! I thought everything was okay and you just fucking left, Even, you left– do you have any fucking idea what it’s been like to –“ But Even is raising his voice to get through his ramble, interrupting him with a string of “I know, I know, I know”. But Isak is drunk and he’s angry and he’s not going to be that easy.

So, Maybe I'm A Little Gay by LavenderWater (4.3k words) - Come drink with us they said. It'll be fun they said. And it was, at least until Isak drunkenly blurted out his love for Even in front of everyone. Fuck his life.

Homesick by everything_else (4.4k words) - 5 times they take care of each other after the break up. +1

Sweet Boys Shouldn't Drink Hard Liquor by wordsarelifealways (4.6k words) - Isak's mother is spiralling again and the texts are getting to Isak. Unfortunately, Even only finds out when Jonas calls him to tell him that Isak got really drunk and had a meltdown. Even looks after Isak at arguably his lowest point since he moved out of the Valtersen household.

Bumps, Grazes and Kisses by Flatfootmonster (4.8k words) - “What am I usually like?” he asked tentatively. The last strip had been placed over the cut, but the guys hands lingered on his face, smoothing gently over his work with a thumb. “Usually you just seem to be waiting for something to happen.” And the small smile that Isak caught playing on his lips was different somehow; he knew exactly what that something was. “But today you were even dancing—it was shocking.”

Confessions at dawn by chroniclesofwriting, joaneoffart (6k words) - Jonas helps a very drunk Isak to get to his apartment, there, he confesses his thoughts about what he wants in life, without realizing that it is Even himself to who he tells all these things.

Strong enough to carry him by diamondjacket (7k words) - Mahdi thinks Eskild is hot. Isak just wants to get through this with his sanity intact.

bloom by Skamtrash (8k words) - Friends to Lovers AU where Isak talks too much and likes Even, Even smokes too much and likes silence.

***** BONUS *****

your love is my turning page. by carryonevaks (1.1k words) - Isak is drunk in love. Even loves to tease him about it.

***** WIP *****

Face First by LinksLipsSinkShips - Isak's blackout drunk and has an unorthodox way of meeting Even.

Him & I by Emma_jay - Random Evak scenes written in script style.

[soradragon]

Purple Hyacinth

First Bakugou x reader and I think this one has become one of my favourites! I put my entire being into making this so I hope you all like this just as much as me! ^^

Thank you for helping me edit this @xxbyimm and  @jinks-world​ !! love you guys!!!

If you want to be tagged in the upcoming fics don’t be afraid to ask me!^^

Masterlist

Bakugou x reader

Warnings; angst and fluff and idiotic pinning

Anyway, enjoy^^

~~~~~~~

As he walked, Bakugou pulled a hand through his hair.  He just got back from the infirmary and the bandages around his back weren’t the only evidence of what happened this morning, for his arms and hands were still trembling. The confrontation with you played over and over again in his head, still affecting him. 

In truth, you hadn't punched him that bad. He knew you could have done way worse, but you held back - even though your anger somehow had gotten the best of you.

You had been shouting at him, your eyes filled with tears that had yet to be shed. Bakugou doubted he could forget that look in your eyes anytime soon. 

Black ooze mixed with white had shot out of the bulbs from the centres of your palms, forming a tentacle.  It had slapped him across the face, it strangely felt like plastic filled with water had hit him.  

The force of your blow had been enough to launch him through the terrain. The stinging pain of rocks and rubble digging in his back still felt nothing like the dull, aching inside Bakugou's chest. It constricted his heart with strings of pain, tugging and pulling at it mercilessly like he was a mere rag doll. His fist clenched around the fabric of his uniform right where his heart throbbed painfully inside his chest.

Frustration and confusion plagued Bakugou’s mind as he relived the way you had been shouting at him. You treated him like he betrayed you, with that, hurting him more than he would like to admit. 

Usually, you were a soft-spoken and tender girl, completely opposite of the one that had been standing before him. Kirishima had to hold you back before you could march up to him and do who knows what, but you struggled in his hold. When it became clear you couldn’t free yourself from the firm grip you were in, you started to shout. You yelled at Bakugou about how insensitive he was, about how he didn't care about anyone but himself.

When you finally ripped yourself from Kirishima’s hold and stormed in Bakugou’s way, it didn't occur to him to duck away or to evade your attack. The things you said to him before you used your quirk had stunned him into silence and glued him to the ground. 

Even now, hours after the event,  your words continued to bounce around inside his mind, haunting him with the image of your tear-stained face. 

"So we are not worthy enough to be here!? We shouldn't be here because some of us have a hard time controlling our quirks!? So you say we are worthless!? Fuck you, Bakugou!"

Bakugou was at a loss. So many thoughts consumed him, pushing to get even a second of the spotlight. Why did he even care? You were just you, so why did it bother him seeing you cry like that? Why did he want to comfort you and beat the living shit out of anything that had made you sad? 

Which obviously included himself then… And that...confused him...

How did he set you off the way he did? He always made sure his actions and the things he said had never bothered you. 

You'd laugh that annoyingly perky laugh of yours when he exploded - figuratively and literally.

Why was it so different this time? What did he say to make you so sad? He did have a vague hunch but he wasn't that sure about it.

One thing was clear. He wanted to make you smile again, he wanted to fix whatever he had done to make you mad with him. If he had to punch someone (or himself) to make it happen, he damn sure would do it without a second thought.

Bakugou felt determination burn within him as he walked through the halls towards the dorms with a purpose. He was going to make amends, and find out what he had said to set you off.

*(*)*(*)*

...It was harder than he originally thought...

He was standing right there, in front of your door. He just had to raise his hand and knock. 

Easy as that. Couldn't have been easier.

And yet, Bakugou hesitated at the last second. He just stood there, frozen, in front of your door with his fist raised. He must’ve looked so damn ridiculous. Why was this so much easier in his head?!

Kirishima had come up to Bakugou when he wandered inside the common-room looking around him. Suspecting you would be in the common-room like normally, but you weren’t there. Kirishima told him ( before he could even ask) that you went to your room after getting detention. 

Well, that backfired. Originally, he was going to put the thing in your room and leave before you would know that he was in your room. 

His only plan exploded right in his face.

Now, there was only one option left...and he didn't like it.

Come on, it can't be that hard! Just knock on the damn door and get on with it!

Bakugou scolded himself, shaking off the last thoughts of going back. Pumping himself up to take that last, final step.

He was ready. 

Raising his hand towards the door and -

You opened the door before he could knock...

Crap!

Your eyes widened slightly when you saw Bakugou standing before you. But your surprise was short-lived, and your face quickly scrunched up into a scowl. You did not look happy, not happy at all.

"What do you want Bakugou?"

Bakugou resisted the urge to flinch when you spat his name out with such venom. But he also noticed the slight crack in your voice. You were still hurt.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he mirrored your expression and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Both of you were taking each other head-on, glaring at each other with fury and an annoying stubbornness. But that didn't really bother Bakugou, because above all, he secretly admired your perseverance. 

It was the puffy red eyes that dismayed him. You had been crying...

His mind raced.

What now? This wasn’t the plan, what should he say? Fuck, he had not prepared for this. This wasn't going as it should have! 

Bakugou cursed himself. His body didn't cooperate, he was frozen stiff.

After a moment of awkward silence and stubbornly glaring at each other, you finally caved in. You sighed frustratedly and said: "if you're not gonna say anything, then I'm closing the door. Goodbye Bakugou."

That was enough to snap Bakugou right out of his stupor. He couldn’t allow this to happen after all he has done!  Bakugou’s instincts took over and he reacted without thinking. He grabbed the door before you could fully close it, almost getting his fingers slammed in the door and the doorframe. Bakugou didn't pull, he still was giving you an out.

You gritted your teeth, Bakugou was so infuriating, it angered you. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't make yourself hate him. What was worse is that he didn't even know you couldn't make yourself close the damn door. 

Why did this boy affect you so much? You gave him one final glare before giving in. He won.

"What is it that you want?" you hissed.

This time Bakugou didn’t freeze this time he pushed his pride aside and he was ready to tell the truth. And he would succeed. With effort, Bakugou pushed the words past his lips. A non-filtered sentence and then some came right out of his mouth. He just hoped it didn't disappoint. He felt stupid like that idiot Deku...How humiliating!

"Take this! I hope this thing will clear up what I've done or whatever..."

Bakugou shoved the bush of purple Hyacinths he had brought with him, into your face as he spoke. The bell-looking blooms almost got pushed right into your nose.

Bakugou glared towards the ground, not daring to even glance towards you. His entire body burned in shame, he really wanted to blast some stuff to pieces. 

What he didn't know was that you had taken the flowers, immediately recognizing the meaning behind them the moment he shoved them into your face. You felt the sharp, sudden feeling of new tears coming, but you didn't really care. These were happy tears. 

One thought invaded your mind, letting all the frustrations and irritations fade. 

He remembered.

A giggle had escaped your lips when you saw Bakugou blush. Ah, he was trying so hard to apologize. Your heart melted, right at that moment you knew that you would always forgive him. For he - even though he didn't let it show - took the time to listen to your rambles about flowers, and little nonsenses...and he took it to heart, he remembered them...

Isn't that worth forgiving?

Bakugou's heart skipped a beat when he heard your sudden giggle. That soft and annoyingly endearing laugh of yours. His head snapped up, and he stared at you, his mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. 

Right at that moment, he was convinced he just had gone to heaven. Or an angel had gone down to earth and was now standing before him - either was a possibility - You left him speechless.

You stepped to the side, fully opening the door for him. It was an invitation to go inside, and he took it. 

"Midoriya told me you would come and try to apologize to me one day, " you said, opening a cupboard and pulling out a pot and a sack with dirt. Putting the flowers in the flowerpot, covering the roots with dirt and watering them. "You can take a seat if you want, no need to stand there."

Your back was towards Bakugou as you spoke. He grumbled under his breath, staring at the ground. Not daring to look up at you as he took a stool to sit down on.

Of course, that Deku would tell you that...

You took your time admiring the flowers Bakugou had given you. They were a beautiful purple-ish blue colour, you already knew they didn't come from just a flower shop. 

These beautiful babies still had their roots. No, they came from a farm, which meant he had gone through all that trouble to get them for you.

You felt your heart flutter inside your chest, taking a deep breath to steady yourself and prepare to face him and the questions he could and would definitely have. 

Bakugou could feel your nervousness radiate off of you as you faced him. 

This awkward tension was killing both of you - Bakugou wanted to high-tail the fuck out of there and he was convinced that you were thinking the same. He knew you well enough, so he could tell. 

Bakugou hated this. He hated being the reason why you were behaving this tense. He hated how he felt so many emotions but couldn't carry them over in the right way. 

He wanted to tell you so much: about the way you made him feel when your smile was directed at him. About the way you made him feel in general. He wanted to reach out and take you into his arms and never let go. But even as he felt that urge taking him over, he withheld himself. 

Bakugou didn’t feel he was deserving of that title which would give him the freedom to do so: to give you the attention and affection you deserve.  So instead he glared at his hands, hunching over to block you from seeing him.

You, on the other hand, were in conflict with your own mind. You wanted to explain to him that everything was alright, it was actually not his fault, to begin with. But knowing him he wouldn't accept such a lame and vague attempt at reassurance, no, he knew you wouldn't snap at him - or anyone for that matter - for no reason. You would either have to go all out and tell him everything. Or, keep it all to yourself and tell nothing, leaving Bakugou with the guilt for something he didn't do. 

You just couldn't do that to him. So you made your decision and went with the first option. You took a seat on your bed and you looked at him, giving him a calm, understanding smile.

"I am glad that you came to me sooner than everyone else thought. That means a lot to me." 

Bakugou's eyes widened slightly, lifting his head. He just stared at you.

You glanced towards his back, the smile on your face falling slightly. Emotions were swimming in your eyes which Bakugou couldn't place.

"I-I hope it doesn't hurt as much as it looked...S-sorry for throwing you back there...I've put too much strength behind it, I-"

"Tsk...It's fine..."

Bakugou cut you off before you could go on any further. He turned his head to the side because everything was better than looking straight at your hurt face.

"Didn't hurt that bad..." Bakugou mumbled under his breath, pressing his hand against his mouth. You almost didn't hear him. 

A relieved sigh left your lips. "I'm glad." You whispered and suddenly it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

Bakugou glanced towards you, he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. He felt like an idiot. That smile of yours would be the death of him before any of the villains would get to him.

You were a weird one that's for sure, was it possible for you to have more than one quirk?

None of you said anything after that. The air was getting awkward again. Both of you could feel it. This was getting ridiculous.

"Thank you for remembering my rambles about flowers," you began, slowly letting go of your nerves. "I didn't think you would remember the meaning behind them, but you did. Thank you."

Bakugou grunted, resisting the urge to look away from you. "It's nothing-"

"It is! This means a lot to me! Flowers have always been a huge part of my mom's life. And flowers and their meanings were everything to her. A-and they mean a lot to me too..."

You spoke up enthusiastically, almost jumping in Bakugou's face in your excitement. 

Bakugou stuttered when you suddenly grabbed both of his hands as you rambled on.

"Ever since I was little, my mother taught me the symbols behind flowers and the passion behind them! I would always find blue cornflowers by my bedside when I got ill, as a wish for good fortune."

You practically had stars in your eyes as you spoke. "You see, when I was younger I used to have a very fragile immune system. I was sick all the time. It became even worse when my quirk manifested. Flowers always made me happy, and-and..."

You suddenly stopped, realising the position you were in, you jumped away as if Bakugou had burned you. Bakugou rose from his seat in an attempt to follow, his arm reaching out towards you in a longing manner. Before he acknowledged what he was doing, he let his arm fall to his side reluctantly.

This was harder than both of you originally had thought.

"I'm so sorry!” You murmured as you hastily tried to explain yourself, while furiously blushing and flailing your arms about “I just started rambling without thinking!"

You looked like a flustered tomato, Bakugou thought. Shit, that made you even more adorable.

He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets."Huh. Your immune system got weaker because of your quirk? What kind of weird shit are you talking about?"

He knew it came out rather curtly, as he tried to hide the abashment in his voice. He immediately regretted snapping at you like that, but you didn't seem to be bothered by it. Instead, you sat down again.

This was going to be a long story, Bakugou could tell by the way you looked at him. Open and trusting.

And it gave him a new sense of adoration towards you. Opening yourself to him with your past. Bakugou sat down on the chair without noticing it himself, waiting for you to start your story.

"You know that my quirk has to do with black all-destroying acid, and white healing ooze right?"

Bakugou nodded.

"Well,” you went on. “My own body creates those oozes. Though my skin is immune to the black acid, my insides are not." You sighed, touching the spot on your neck which looks more pinkish than the rest of your body. "My quirk is called inner yang-yin ooze. A quirk, which resembles the ying-yang symbol, yang; the symbol of female and devastation. Ying; the symbol of male and life. When my quirk manifested, I wasn't prepared for what was to come."

You shivered and took a moment before you went on again. 

"My insides were scorched, luckily a friend of ours with an erasure quirk stopped the yang ooze from scorching my insides. It does mean that I need to use my quirk constantly, covering the yang ooze with the yin. Sometimes I lose control over my quirk and some part of my body will be scorched." You explained, pointing towards the pinkish spot.

There was a short silence before you took a deep breath.

"So yeah...that's also the reason why I flipped out when you said that some of us were weak and 'if you couldn't control your quirk properly you were never meant to be here in the first place.' It brought some bad memories to the surface. It wasn't really your fault I got mad, but you just… triggered me, I guess." You concluded, fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for Bakugou to reply.

He was quiet, staring at you with wide eyes. You didn't know what to think...

But after a moment or two, Bakugou moved, hunching his shoulders and casting his eyes to the ground.

Fuck...fuck...

Bakugou felt like a moron, guilt seeped into his skin, like a shiver down the spine. He had no right to say stuff like that when he, himself never went through something like that. 

"Fuck..."Bakugou mumbled under his breath, pressing his hand against his face. 

Oh god, he had told you, you didn't belong here...

Bakugou felt his stomach churn at the thought, his thoughts quickly spiralling into an abyss of negativity. Each voice shouted at him, berating him for his ignorance and stupidity. Bakugou wanted to rip his hair out as the voices came at him without mercy.

They were deafening, drowning out everything else. And suddenly Bakugou wasn't in your room anymore, as it morphed into a prison of black nothingness.

Until suddenly the voices stopped...it all stopped, and Bakugou felt like he could breathe again. Your soft voice pulled him out of the black abyss and your touch brought him back to his senses. He was in your room again, curled into himself. You sat on your knees in front of him, your worried face close to his. His head cupped in your hands.

"Are you alright, Bakugou?" Your soft, concerned voice did things to him.

"Uh...Yeah..."

*(*)*(*)*

"Y/N...please...dammit Y/N...!"

You heard a faint voice in the distance, your head felt fuzzy. 

"...Why did you just run at that villain without thinking…!?"

Warm little droplets fell on your cheek.

"...Stop being so damn reckless Y/N...!"

T-this voice...why was it so familiar...?

"You think no one cares...b-but...I do, you damn idiot..."

You felt your conscious slowly slip away again, you felt something soft touch your forehead before sleep took you.

*(*)*(*)*

You groaned, slowly sitting up. 

"What happened...?" You mumbled as you rubbed your eyes, getting rid of the sleepiness. The moonlight streamed through your window, illuminating the room in a white sheen. You were in a hospital bed. The nightstand was covered in 'get well soon' cards, they were from class 1-A. Your class.

One thing stood out more than the other things. It was a small vase, standing at the corner of your nightstand, Blue salvia, blue cornflowers and red tulips.

You immediately knew who gave these to you. 

Warm feelings fluttered inside your stomach, you smiled softly.

flower meanings: 

purple Hyacinths; (I'm sorry)

Blue cornflowers; (a wish of good luck/good luck charm)

Blue salvia; (I'm thinking of you)

red tulips; (declaration of love/ dedication towards you)

~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, and keep soaring high!^^

_____

Bakugou taglist

@gliesewolff​

[thanatosangels]

Omg I loved your last Gabrily fic so so much!!! And can I ask please for 🥰 for them with their kids please? Their family dynamic is so cute, if you feel like doing it of course

thank you so much omg!! i hope you like this one aswell <333

first Gabrily here :)

~~~~~~~~

Cecily rung the breakfast bell for the second time that morning.

Baby Alexander giggled in her arms as she sighed, heavily, and placed the bell down on the table in the hall. She turned and walked into the dining room, seeing only Gabriel seated at the table, half hidden by his newspaper. 

“Gabriel darling, would you take Alexander whilst I go rouse Christopher?” Alexander pointed at himself in acknowledgement of his own name, and Cecily nodded at him encouragingly. He had a gratified look on his face.

Gabriel, however, didn’t even look up from his newspaper. “That’s nice, dear.”

Rolling her eyes, Cecily said, “Oh, yes. By the way, I heard your father returned from the grave and is causing yet more havoc as a giant worm.” 

“Is that so?” He flipped the page.

“Also, I am leaving you for Gideon. We have been having the most wonderfully passionate love affair. In the gardens, the library, even in our bed!”

Picking up his tea, he murmured a thoughtful “Mmm.” 

“And I think we should change our second name to Lightworm.”

At that, his eyes bulged and, choking on his tea, threw his newspaper down on the table. “Pardon?” He spluttered.

She had resolved to keep a straight face and a cool gaze, but she burst out laughing at his expression of bewilderment. Alexander started laughing too. “You didn't listening to a thing i just said, you bloody man!” He was still looking wounded, so as she strode over and handed him Alexander, she planted a small kiss on his forehead which brought a smile to his lips.

“You know I love you, don’t you, Cecy?” 

“I do!” She called over her shoulder as she hurried out of the dining room.

Gathering up her skirts in her hands, she began to climb the stairs. She often found herself wishing it were socially acceptable for Shadowhunter woman to spend all their time in the tight and comfortable gear rather than corsets and heavy skirts, which she felt could be saved for special events only. She was still contemplating this when she rapped her knuckles on Christopher’s bedroom door.

“Good morning, bach!” She waited for a response. Nothing.

Then she heard a small pop! and her stomach dropped.

She knocked again, more insistently this time. “Christopher?”

“Just coming, Ma!” There was a small plume of smoke coming from under the door now. 

Cecily shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Angel give me strength. “Christopher, I’m coming in.”

Tentatively, she opened the door. She saw her son, goggles sitting crookedly on his head, tongue slightly out his mouth in concentration, his lilac eyes fixed on the smouldering beaker in his right hand that he was transferring the contents of into another beaker in his left. She also saw the state of his pyjamas, which were charred at the cuffs of his sleeves and stained with an unknown blue liquid down the front.

She slowly shook her head before lowering it into her hands.

“Darling, those pyjamas were new!” Her voice was muffled. “And we talked about experiments before breakfast!” She sighed, deeply - again.

Christopher, finished whatever it was he was doing, placed the beakers down and went over to his mother. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and she could feel the excited energy that was radiating off him. 

“I know, Ma, I’m sorry,” As she looked up, and he smiled his lazy, easy grin at her. She felt her heart expand with an all encompassing love for her Christopher, her genius, and all annoyance was immediately forgotten. She reached up -  he was quite a bit taller than her now - and ruffled his hair just as she heard the doorbell. 

“Oh! That’ll be Anna,” She heard their servant, Mary, open the door and Anna’s rich, familiar voice drifting up the stairs. Cecily narrowed her eyes and looked Christopher up and down, surveying the damage. “You’re not hurt are you?” He shook his head and his goggles fell down onto his nose, so she plucked them off and discarded them on the chest of drawers by the door. “Then you’ll have to do. Come on, and do tell me what you were doing as we go.”

As they made their way down the stairs, Christopher spoke very animatedly and very fast. Cecily was sure she heard the words “Uncle Henry”, “Magnesium” and possibly even “Arsenic” but she did not quite catch or understand the rest. She simply took a leaf out of Gabriel’s book and nodded along, smiling.

They reached the dining room, and now Anna had joined Gabriel and Alexander at the breakfast table. 

Anna had very clearly not slept.

There were dark bags under eyes that were just a little too bright. Her shirtsleeves were messily rolled to her elbows and her peacock print waistcoat was undone. Her short hair was sticking out at all angles, and she was smiling very widely at Gabriel, who had an amused look on his face.

“Hullo Anna! That is a capital waistcoat you have on.” Christopher said as he seated himself next to his father at the table.

Anna was laughing about the state of Christopher’s pyjamas as Cecily sat down next to her. Cecily leaned over, grinning, and pinched her daughter’s cheek affectionately. “You look like you’ve been busy! Did you have a late night?” She teased.

Anna cast her dancing gaze towards her mother, smiling crookedly. “Dearest Mother, you wouldn't even know the half of it.”

Cecily laughed, and looked around the table at her perfectly imperfect little family. Gabriel, her love, bouncing their beautiful baby boy on his knee, glowing with the contented happiness he wore so easily these days. Christopher, destined for such great things, trying to teach his little brother to say ‘glucinum’.  And Anna, her daughter; her firstborn; her trailblazer; her shining star of hope for the future, smiling right at her.

Cecily often wondered how she managed to get so lucky.

“Mother,” Anna was poking her arm. “Come back down to earth. You look a million miles away.” 

“Just daydreaming, bach.” She raised her voice, so as to be heard from the kitchen. “Mary! Do bring Anna a coffee, will you!”