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calypso-rt · 3 days ago

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road trip!

with the insufferable Rafe Cameron

-> Rafe x F!Reader

You should’ve seen this coming.

I mean, first, your car broke down and had to be taken to the shop.

So, when your best friend called in a frantic apology about car trouble, food poisoning, and possibly a minor curse, you knew you were doomed. Flights were sold out, rental cars were booked, and every other friend headed to the wedding was somehow already out of town.

Which left you with one horrifying, soul crushing option.

Rafe Cameron.

You stare at his name on your phone screen like it personally offends you. Your thumb hovers over the call button as if pressing it might burn your skin.

There has to be another way. A bus? A miracle Uber? A very fast bicycle?

But deep down, you know the truth. If you don’t find a way to get there, you’ll be missing out on one of the biggest moments of your friend's life. And there’s no way in hell you’re going to let that happen.

You take a deep breath, swallow what’s left of your pride, and hit call.

It rings. Once. Twice.

Then...

“Wow.” Rafe’s voice is impossibly smug, like he already knows why you’re calling. “Didn’t expect to see your name pop up. What, did hell freeze over? Pigs start flying?”

You clench your jaw, already regretting this. “Don’t start.”

“I haven’t even said anything,” he says, which is a lie because his tone is practically dripping with amusement. “So? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You inhale sharply through your nose. Just say it. Rip off the Band-Aid.

“I need a ride.”

There’s a pause. Then, the unmistakable sound of him laughing.

It’s not just a small chuckle. It’s a full-bodied, downright delighted laugh. You swear you can hear him grinning.

“Oh, this is amazing.”

“Rafe—”

“No, no, let me enjoy this. You. You, of all people, need me?”

You press your fingers to your temples. “Do you want gas money or not?”

“Gas money? Sweetheart, I don’t need your gas money. What I need is for you to say it one more time. Just so I can fully appreciate the moment.”

You grit your teeth. “I. Need. A. Ride.”

Another pause. Then—

“Yeah, alright.” He says it so easily, like he wasn’t planning on saying no in the first place. Like he was always going to say yes. “I’ll pick you up in twenty.”

You blink. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all choked up about it. Just be ready.”

He hangs up before you can respond.

You stare at your phone, debating whether it’s too late to back out entirely. Maybe getting a bike wasn’t such a terrible idea.

But then, twenty minutes later, Rafe Cameron rolls up in his car, window down, smirk in place, and the smuggest glint in his eye as he calls out:

“Ready for the best road trip of your life?”

This is going to be a long ride.

...

The first hour is tense.

You sit stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the endless stretch of road ahead. Rafe, for his part, lounges behind the wheel like he has all the time in the world, one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel, the other adjusting the radio.

“Jesus,” you mutter as he flips through stations again. “Can you just pick one?”

He clicks past another song. Then another.

“I could,” he says, like it’s a thoughtful decision. “But then how would I find the perfect song to fit our current mood?”

You scoff. “And what mood is that?”

He smirks. “Deep, unresolved sexual tension.”

You whip your head toward him so fast it’s a miracle you don’t get whiplash. “You’re insufferable.”

He laughs. “I mean, you did beg me for a ride, so...”

“Beg is a strong word.”

“Practically groveling.”

“Oh my God, Rafe.”

You sink lower into your seat, face burning in suppressed rage as he chuckles under his breath, clearly enjoying every second of this.

For a moment, there’s silence... until Rafe reaches for the GPS and completely ignores the route you mapped out earlier.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demand.

“Taking the faster way.”

You frown. “That’s not the faster way.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t! I literally checked last night. My route is better.”

He glances at you like you’ve personally offended him. “I think I know how to read a damn GPS.”

“And I think you have the directional skills of a blindfolded himbo.”

Rafe scoffs, gripping the wheel. “That’s rich coming from someone who almost got lost inside a Target last week.”

Your jaw drops. “I did not—”

“You called me from the home goods aisle panicking.”

“It was a big Target!”

He grins, looking far too pleased with himself. “Sure, sweetheart.”

You glare daggers at him, but before you can fire back, the GPS’s robotic voice chimes in:

“Recalculating route…”

You turn to him slowly, a smirk curling at your lips.

“Oh?” you say, mocking surprise. “What’s this? The GPS thinks I was right?”

Rafe clenches his jaw, white knuckling the wheel.

“I hate you.”

You beam. “No, you don’t.”

He lets out a long suffering sigh. Then, before you can bask in your victory, he suddenly cranks up the radio obnoxiously loud, blasting some overplayed pop song.

You groan, sinking into your seat.

...

The gas station is a godsend.

After what feels like hours of bickering, you practically fling yourself out of the car the second Rafe pulls into the lot. The fresh air is a relief, or at least, it would be, if Rafe weren’t right behind you, stretching obnoxiously like he’s never known a single hardship in his life.

“God, I love road trips,” he says, grinning as he watches you roll your shoulders like you’re shaking off his entire existence.

You ignore him and push through the glass doors, the too-cold AC blasting you in the face. The fluorescent lights hum faintly overhead, and the aisles are stocked with the usual: chips, questionable hot dogs, and enough sugar to give an elephant heart palpitations.

You head straight for the snack aisle, Rafe following too closely behind.

“I’m thinking—" you start, reaching for a bag of your favorite chips.

Rafe makes a disgusted noise.

“Oh, absolutely not.” He plucks the bag from your hands like it personally offends him. “We’re getting road trip snacks, not whatever this garbage is.”

You snatch it back. “Excuse me?”

He gestures vaguely at the bag. “That’s the worst possible choice.”

Your mouth drops open. “Are you insane? This is objectively the best snack in the entire store.”

“Objectively wrong.”

You glare. “Okay, genius, what’s your expert pick?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Beef jerky.”

You actually recoil. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You’re one of those people?”

Rafe smirks. “One of what people?”

“The kind of people who sit in the car, chewing on some nasty, dried-up piece of cow like it’s fine dining?”

He scoffs. “It’s protein.”

“It’s disgusting.”

He places a bag of jerky in the basket anyway. You dramatically shove your chips in beside it, like it’s a battle of good versus evil.

“What else?” he asks, scanning the shelves.

You grab a candy bar. “This.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow. “That’s just straight sugar.”

“Exactly.”

He sighs, tossing in a pack of peanut butter crackers. “Balance.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What are you, my dad?”

Rafe ignores you, moving toward the drink coolers. You trail behind him, still fuming about the beef jerky situation.

He pulls open the glass door and grabs a bottle of water.

You squint. “Water? That’s your road trip drink?”

“Yeah?” He frowns at you. “What’s wrong with water?”

You shake your head in disappointment. “You’re so boring.”

Rafe glares. “Oh, I’m boring? What are you getting, then?”

You grab the brightest, most radioactive looking energy drink you can find and hold it up triumphantly.

Rafe looks deeply unimpressed. “That is going to take years off your life.”

“And?”

He just shakes his head, tossing his water into the basket. “If your heart gives out mid-drive, I’m not pulling over.”

You grin. “I knew you cared.”

Rafe rolls his eyes, marching toward the counter to pay. You follow, watching as the bored looking cashier scans your deeply incompatible snack selections.

When Rafe pulls out his wallet, you immediately reach for yours. “I can pay for mine.”

He tuts, shoving his card into the reader before you can argue. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says, smirking. “You can owe me.”

You narrow your eyes. “Owe you what?”

His smirk deepens. “Haven’t decided yet.”

You cross your arms, but he just grabs the bag of snacks and saunters out of the store, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, trailing after him.

This road trip is going to kill you.

...

The rain starts suddenly.

One second, the road is dry and clear, then, out of nowhere, the sky splits open, unleashing a torrential downpour so intense that Rafe has to crank the wipers up to their highest setting. The world outside turns into a blurry mess of gray and streaking headlights, and even he slows down, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Great,” you mumble, pulling your hoodie tighter around you. “Just perfect.”

Rafe barely spares you a glance, both hands gripping the wheel. “Relax. It’s just rain.”

It is not just rain. It’s an apocalypse. The wind howls, trees sway dangerously, and the GPS chimes in, completely unhelpful:

“Rerouting… rerouting…”

Rafe exhales sharply. “Fantastic.”

You frown, glancing at the map. “Uh… I think we missed our turn.”

“We did not—”

Lightning flashes. The GPS glitches. And then, as if the universe itself wants to prove a point...

THUNK.

The car jerks. Rafe curses, fighting the wheel as he pulls over to the shoulder. The rain slams against the windshield, making it nearly impossible to see, but you already know what’s wrong.

Flat tire.

You both sit there for a second, staring at the dashboard like maybe, somehow, this is just a bad dream.

Then...

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rafe mutters.

You sigh, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ll fix it.”

Rafe’s head whips toward you. “Excuse me?”

You shrug. “I know how to change a tire.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

“I do!”

He gives you a deeply skeptical look. “Alright, fine. Let’s see it, then.”

You roll your eyes and push the door open, stepping into the absolute nightmare that is the current weather situation. Rain instantly soaks through your hoodie, the wind nearly knocking you off balance as you march around to the trunk.

Rafe follows, watching as you pull out the spare and drop to your knees to inspect the damage.

You try to focus, really, you do, but the rain is relentless, blinding and cold and miserable. Your fingers slip against the wet metal as you wrestle with the jack, struggling to get it in place.

And then, before you can stop him, Rafe crouches down beside you, scowling as he physically moves your hands out of the way.

“What the hell—”

“You should’ve let me handle it.” His voice is low, grumbly, but not in his usual mocking way. It’s different.

Protective.

You blink up at him, shivering slightly as he moves closer, blocking some of the rain with his body.

“I had it,” you argue, but it comes out softer than intended.

He doesn’t look at you. Just focuses on loosening the lug nuts, his jaw clenched like he’s irritated... but not at you. At the fact that you were out here, in the freezing rain, doing this yourself.

The rest of the job doesn’t take long, and when he finally lowers the jack, he stands, reaching down to haul you up without warning.

You stumble slightly. He catches you easily.

For a second, you just… stand there.

Close.

The rain drips from his hair, his hoodie completely soaked, but all you can focus on is the way his hands linger: one on your wrist, the other still at your waist, like he’s making sure you’re steady before he lets go.

It’s… unsettling.

Not in a bad way.

Just in a way that makes your stomach feel weird and your heart do something stupid.

But then he exhales sharply, like he’s snapping himself out of something, and steps back.

“Next time, just let me handle it,” he mutters. Then, before you can argue, he’s already moving, tossing the tools back into the trunk.

You watch him for a moment before shaking yourself off and climbing back into the car.

The ride after that is… different.

Quieter.

Not in a tense, waiting-for-the-next-argument kind of way, but in a way that feels oddly comfortable.

Rafe leans back in his seat, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually behind your headrest.

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel annoying.

It just feels… warm.

Familiar.

At some point, he reaches over to mess with the radio again. This time, when he flips through the stations, you don’t complain. You just glance at him, shaking your head, lips twitching slightly.

He catches you looking. Smirks.

And you don’t roll your eyes.

Not this time.

...

After the flat tire, the rainstorm, and the unfortunate realization that there were no motels nearby, you and Rafe had been forced to crash in the car overnight. Literally. Him in the driver’s seat, you curled up in the passenger seat, both of you grumbling about how much this sucked before eventually passing out.

Now, you wake up to the smell of coffee.

For a second, you’re disoriented, blinking against the golden light pouring through the windshield. Your neck is stiff, your hoodie is bunched in all the wrong places, and the leather seat sticks to your skin in the worst way.

And then...

A voice.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

You groan, rubbing your eyes. Rafe leans against the open driver’s side door, arms crossed, a smug but noticeably softer smirk on his face.

“We’re at a diner,” he says, nodding toward the neon sign outside. “Figured you’d want real food instead of gas station snacks.”

You blink at him. Then at the diner. Then back at him.

And that’s when you see it.

In his other hand: a cup of coffee.

Your coffee.

You sit up straighter. “Wait, is that...?”

He shrugs. “You take it with two sugars, right?”

You stare at him, momentarily speechless.

Rafe Cameron, your mortal enemy just yesterday, remembers how you take your coffee. And brought you one before you even woke up.

“Uh.” You take the cup hesitantly, fingers brushing his for a split second. “Thanks?”

“Don’t make it weird,” he mutters, turning toward the diner. “Come on. I need real food before I lose my mind.”

You follow him inside, still thrown off by… whatever this is.

The place is quintessential roadside diner. Vinyl booths, checkered floors, an old jukebox in the corner playing a song that sounds straight out of a ‘90s romcom. A waitress with a pen tucked behind her ear waves you to a booth near the window.

Rafe slides in across from you, stretching his arms over the back of the seat. “So,” he says, smirking again, but there’s something different about it this time. “What’s the move? Classic pancakes? Or are you one of those avocado toast people?”

You scoff. “Avocado toast? What do I look like, a health influencer?”

He grins. “Hey, you give off the vibe.”

You kick him under the table. He chuckles.

The waitress reappears, flipping open her notepad. “What can I get y’all?”

You glance at the menu quickly before ordering the pancake combo. Rafe orders an omelet, then, as the waitress starts to walk away, he calls out:

“Oh, and... can we get extra syrup?”

You freeze.

You always ask for extra syrup. You were literally about to say it.

You narrow your eyes at him. “How do you...”

He just shrugs. “You like extra syrup. You always complain when there isn’t enough.”

Again, you’re momentarily speechless.

Rafe doesn’t just remember things about you. He notices them.

And now, in the warm morning light, with his hoodie slightly rumpled and his hair messier than usual, he looks…

Less like the cocky nightmare who laughed when you asked for a ride.

More like the guy who fixed a tire in the rain without hesitation.

Who made sure you had coffee before you even woke up.

Who just ordered extra syrup for you.

“Okay, who are you,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, “and what have you done with Rafe Cameron?”

Rafe tilts his head, considering. Then, lazily, he smirks. “Maybe you just bring out the best in me.”

You roll your eyes, but this time, it’s harder to ignore the way your stomach flips.

And when the food arrives, when he casually slides the syrup your way before you can even reach for it, you’re pretty sure you’re screwed.

...

By the time you finally pull up to the wedding venue, a sprawling lodge tucked into the mountains, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. It looks ridiculously picturesque, like something out of a movie.

You, on the other hand, look less picturesque.

“I swear to God,” you grumble, twisting around in the passenger seat to grab your overnight bag, “if my hair is permanently flattened from sleeping in the car, I’m blaming you.”

Rafe snorts, shifting the car into park. “Please. You’ve looked worse.”

You turn to glare at him, only to find him already looking at you. Except this time, there’s no evil Rafe smirk. Just… something else. Something softer.

It throws you off so badly that you almost forget to respond.

Almost.

“Thanks,” you deadpan. “That’s exactly what every girl wants to hear before walking into a wedding.”

Rafe chuckles, shaking his head before pushing his door open. You follow suit, stepping out into the cool mountain air.

Up ahead, the venue is already buzzing with activity: people unloading suitcases, music drifting from somewhere inside, laughter echoing across the lot. Your best friend is probably freaking out over last minute details.

And you?

You’re standing beside Rafe Cameron, staring up at the lodge like you haven’t just spent the past twenty four hours begrudgingly trapped in a car with him.

Like you haven’t spent the past two hours noticing little things you weren’t supposed to.

Rafe stretches, rolling his shoulders before glancing at you. “You good?”

You nod, but before you can take a step, he reaches over and tugs your hoodie into place.

It’s nothing. Just a small adjustment, fingers barely grazing your shoulder. But the second it happens, your breath catches.

It’s stupid, really. After everything, the bickering, the bad directions, the gas station argument, this is what gets you?

A two second fix?

But when you glance up at him, there’s something unreadable in his expression. Something that lingers for half a second too long before he clears his throat and steps back.

You swallow. “Uh. Thanks.”

“Yeah.” His voice is quieter than usual.

For the first time since this whole trip started, you have no idea what to say next.

So instead, you hoist your bag higher onto your shoulder and nod toward the lodge. “We should… probably go find everyone.”

Rafe nods once. “Yeah.”

Neither of you move right away.

And when you finally do, when you walk side by side toward the entrance, the glow of the venue lights spilling onto the gravel path, you can’t shake the feeling that something just shifted.

Like maybe, just maybe, this trip isn’t over yet.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction

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a-scary-lack-of-common-sense · 17 hours ago

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Did kook Ford ever meet the twins. Sorry If you already answered this.

He does eventually! No worries, I haven't answered this before, and this ask is a perfect opportunity to talk about the mystery twins' lore while we're at it :)

Mabel and Dipper were put into foster care at a young age due to their parent's divorce; neither party being willing to take custody of the twins. Since there were no close friends of relatives who were available to take care of the twins (I'm going to put Sherman and his wife out of the picture for now since I'm not sure how to get around that plot hole), Stanley pulled some strings to adopt the twins, making him a legal guardian to them :) As far as the twins know, though, Stanley is not related to them in any way.

Stan tries his best to not to involve the kids in his mafia business, although, the twins are still aware on some level that their "uncle" is not exactly a saint, and neither is his "work". But they love him nonetheless.

Anyways, the twins get actually introduced to the lore way later. The adoption happened a while ago, and several years later the twins are 11 and bored during the summer holidays. Which is perfect timing for Stan, because he needs them out of the house and away for the time being while he's busy taking care of his "work". He doesn't want them to go stir crazy and start causing trouble, so he decides to send them away to some remote town in Oregon called "Gravity Falls", where there is the least amount of violent gang activity and is far, far away from anywhere under enemy mafia dominion (other than his).

Stan lets them go their merry way with a chaperone (Soos) to stay over at his Abuelita's house. He double makes sure the twins are looked after by hiring one of the locals who owe him a favor (Manly Dan's family) to watch over them. This is how Wendy comes into the picture (she doesn't play that big of a role but still) :)

The twins are understandably a little put off by the fact that their uncle just sent them away to the middle of nowhere, but they manage to befriend some of the townsfolk and even find a strange journal in the woods.

They eventually meet Stanford, the unstable old "town kook" that everyone in town has warned them about and adviced to stay away from, and befriend him. He's amicable enough, but he always seems as though he knows more than he himself realizes.

And you'd think this is all there is that Gravity Falls has to offer. Just some strange anomalies and even stranger townsfolk.

But, Dipper wishes to learn more about the anomalies in town, to which Wendy off handedly mentions how her father used to talk about an anomaly researcher that once lived in town. When they all go ask Manly Dan for more information, he refuses to elaborate on it, calling it "nasty business" that they shouldn't be getting involved with.

Obviously, being kids, they decide to get involved in it.

Dipper and Mabel go looking for signs of this so-called "scientist" around town, picking up more clues from what the townsfolk tell them. Until eventually, their investigation leads them to a shack on the edge of town, nestled deep within the dense woods.

The house where the researcher supposedly once resided is abandonned and decrepit. They explore its ruins, but end up finding more questions than answers in the endless sea of indecipherable notes; strange books; rotted specimens and morbid bloody stains. However, the biggest mystery of them all had to be what was hidden beneath the shack. Behind innocuous doors and rickety elevators that brought them down, down, down to a massive structure buried deep underground; the mystery behind this strange researcher seemed to grow ever more.

#huge lore drop woohoo!#asks #sput chatters #town kook ford au #gravity falls #gravity falls au #stanford pines #ford pines #stanley pines #stan pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #mystery twins #wendy corduroy #manly dan #soos ramirez #lore

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tedsies · 2 days ago

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i caved and bought the legacy collection out of curiosity

i bought it on steam by the way, no way am I going anywhere near the ea app

random thoughts as i go along:

game loaded up straight away with no issues (what a strange feeling)

got into pleasantview within 2 minutes (obvs I have no cc installed right now so its gonna be faster anyway)

a bit of a jumpscare to see the game again without reshade ngl

straight into the lothario household. don you look... different without all my defaults

screen resolution defaulted to the right size without me having to change anything by the way, which was nice

turned up all the graphics setting to max and going to visit the goth household as that always gives me lag, even vanilla

this experience is already making me realise I need to cut down my 12gb downloads folder, cos man this is so smooth and fast without all of that in my game

well everything is working perfectly straight out of the box. had no issues with multiple sims on the big goth lot

going to quit and load up again with my ui mods and defaults next (along with hugelunatic's ikea pack as cc)

legacy collection has an entirely different file path by the way, so won't mess with existing ultimate collection installs (i wouldn't have dared to do this otherwise)

okay all my defaults, ui mods and some others are now in (downloads folder is up to 3.64gb now) and everything is working fine still

ikea items as cc don't seem to be fully appearing in the catalog though? that might be a me problem but i dont know

adding in all my cas cc now, along with hood defaults and hood deco cc (downloads folder is up to 6.5gb now). i'm also adding in anything else I can think of like camera mods, user startup cheat etc etc

getting into pleasantview in less than 2 mins still

heading into cas for the first time now...

... and it loaded up within 10 seconds even with ALL of my cas cc? and this is the first time too so I would've expected major lag. normally cas takes about 60 seconds to load in my game

update on the ikea pack as cc... the build items are definitely there, but not the buy for some reason?

biting the bullet and adding in the remaining 6gb of my 12gb downloads folder

all of my cc is now in the game and loading times were about 30 seconds longer than before. still no issues

took darren dreamer to a community lot and there were no crashes/issues/lag. normally going to a community lot is very dangerous for me cos its where I get the most crashes or issues, its why all my community lots are incredibly small lot sizes

also I have the hood deco view set to extra large... normally I have to have it set to extra small just to play in a small household

i dont think I'm being delulu here to say things are running better

next up is adding in all of my mods, then after that I might dare putting in my mega populated uberhood save, and try reshade?

another ikea update: everything is showing up now. it was me being an idiot

so all of my mods are now also in (so my entire downloads folder now) and i haven't been able to trigger any crashes or pink soup yet through normal gameplay? even with extra large hood view from lots

reshade keeps crashing my game on startup... damn, what am I doing wrong

RESHADE IS NOW WORKING (ver 6.1.1)! thanks to this guide

I finally added in my uberhood save (which is packed with hood deco and and has 35 playable families).... and it's working! I also played with a household for a bit and everything was working fine

final update before I go to bed (as its gone midnight here lol)

i now have all of my mods, cc, saves, and reshade installed, and I've yet to have any pink soup or crashes (apart from the crashes when I was *incorrectly* trying to install reshade). honestly... i'm surprised. i dont want to speak too soon obviously, but things seem better. i was just playing in a household with extra large lot view on and that would usually IMMEDIATELY crash my game, but nothing happened. tomorrow i'll actually play for an extended period of time, so i'll be able to tell more for sure then.

i hope this has been helpful to at least a couple of people, and i'll leave with you a shot of my pleasantview newly loaded up in the legacy collection 😅

#ts2 #sims 2 #the sims 2 #legacy collection

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ode-to-fury · 2 days ago

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Thinking about post veilguard rookanis like I always am and today I'm mulling over Illario and Caterina's reactions because like... there's been very many discussions about whether Caterina would like/dislike accept/not accept Rook and I don't think it's that simple. I think at first she assumes it's casual like it's always been for Illario because surely Lucanis wouldn't be that stupid? Surely he wouldn't fall in love and give himself that big of a weak spot? And then... Rook sticks. They get engaged, they're planning a wedding, Rook is already helping with First Talon things and it seems like that is actually the one thing making it bearable for Lucanis. And how the fuck is she supposed to handle that? Her poor little boy... is Rook good enough to stay alive for him? Should she kill Rook now to avoid heartbreak in future? Lucanis... what have you done?

And then Illario... man what would Illario think? Here is his cousin who has never shown any interest in the myriad of people Illario has seen show interest in him (because lets face it Lucanis is a handsome man there had to have been some Crows going 👀👀) so of course when Rook happens he probably thinks like oh it's a first love infatuation thing I remember when that happened to me. Three months from now I'll have the old Lucanis back and then... thag doesn't happen? Rook is a Dellamorte now. For so long it's only been the three of them and now... Cousin, you're really in love? I just like thinking about the idea that both of them don't really click how deeply Rookanis care for each other until it's way too late to do something about it

#dragon age #datv #dragon age the veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #caterina dellamorte #rook dragon age #illario dellamorte

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ch0llies · 2 days ago

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EARNED IT | MATTHEW STURNIOLO.

read the series here

THE EPILOGUE.

Seven years.

It’s been seven years since your world changed- since Matt became yours.

Sometimes, it feels like it happened just yesterday. Other times, it feels like a lifetime ago.

But no matter how much time has passed, one thing has never changed- Matt still looks at you like you hung the moon.

Your life together has been everything and more.

A Home, A Life, A Family

You graduated high school, then college. You moved in with Matt. You built a life together.

Matt always told you he’d take care of you, that he’d give you everything. And he kept his word.

Now, you live in a beautiful home, not too far from where you both grew up but far enough that it’s yours.

It’s got huge windows, a spacious backyard Matt swears he’s going to turn into a rink in the winter, and a spare room that- well, isn’t so spare anymore.

Because after four years together, you had your daughter.

She’s a mini Matt in every possible way- his beautiful blue eyes, his attitude, his ability to charm the entire world with a single smirk. But she has your heart- the perfect mix of you two.

And Matt? He adores her.

He’s the kind of dad that melts the second she so much as looks at him. The kind that lets her paint his nails, the kind that chases her around the house when she demands he play princess tag, the kind that refuses to let her go to bed without reading to her.

She has him absolutely wrapped around her little finger.

And your brother? He’s obsessed with her.

She’s his favorite person, the kid he spoils rotten, the one he brags about to literally everyone.

And of course, he’s already put her in hockey lessons.

Which Matt pretends to be offended about.

“She’s too young to be in a league!” he argued when your brother first signed her up.

“She’s four, Matt. She’s barely learning to skate.”

“Exactly.”

But despite all of his protests, he was still the first one on the ice with her, still the one tying her skates, still the one beaming with pride when she managed to stay upright for more than five seconds.

Matt acts all tough. But when it comes to her? He’s a complete softie. The same when it comes to you.

And now? Now, you’re expecting a baby boy. Your son. Matt is over the moon.

Talks to your belly every night, swears your baby boy is gonna be the next NHL star.

Which, speaking of- Matt’s doing what he always dreamed of.

He’s a defenseman in the NHL, drafted after years of hard work, pushing himself harder than anyone else, earning his spot.

And you? You made sure you could be by his side through it all.

You majored in sports management, now working alongside him, handling his contracts, sponsorships, career moves- everything.

At first, he wasn’t sure about it.

“You don’t have to do that, angel. You should do something for you.”

But you had just smiled, running your fingers through his hair, calm, certain.

“Matt,” you had whispered. “You are my something.”

And that was it. He let you in.

Now, you go to every game. You’re the first person he sees when he skates off the ice.

And after every win, every loss, every hard-fought battle on the ice-

He comes home to you.

It wasn’t always perfect, though.

It took time for things to heal. For your brother and Matt to repair what was broken.

For a long time, it was tense. They wouldn’t talk. Your brother would barely acknowledge him.

Matt was never bitter about it, but you could tell it weighed on him.

That he hated how much he hurt your brother, that even though he wouldn’t change a thing about loving you, he still wished it hadn’t come at the cost of their friendship.

But you? You weren’t going to let them avoid each other forever.

It took a lot of convincing, a lot of pushing, but eventually-

They sat down.

They talked it out.

And your brother- grudgingly at first, but eventually fully- forgave him.

Now, it’s something they joke about.

They’ll tell the story at family gatherings- how your brother nearly killed him, how Matt thought he was gonna be buried in the backyard, how it’s the one time in his life he’s ever been truly scared.

He teases Matt constantly. Says he should’ve made him sign a contract before dating you, should’ve put him through a background check.

But at the end of the day- they’re fine.

They’re better than fine.

Your brother loves you. Loves Matt. Loves your daughter.

Matt takes it in stride, lets him get his jokes in, lets him run his mouth-

Because at the end of the day?

Matt won. He got you. And your brother knows damn well he treats you like gold.

Matt proposed after three years.

He didn’t do some grand, elaborate plan- didn’t need a crowd, didn’t need some huge, over-the-top gesture.

It was just the two of you, the way it’s always been.

He pulled the ring from his pocket, his blue eyes soft, steady, full of certainty.

“Marry me, angel.”

And of course you said yes.

Now, you wear his last name, his ring on your finger, his kids in your arms.

And yeah, you're not as innocent as you used to be. Not after years with him. Not after everything he's taught you.

But in his eyes?

You’ll always be his angel. His love. His everything.

Still have that wide-eyed sweetness, that soft, trusting nature that drove him insane all those years ago.

And as you sit curled up on the couch, your daughter asleep in Matt’s lap, his hand resting on your growing belly, feeling your son kick beneath his palm-

You know.

No matter how much time passes, no matter how much has changed- you’ll always be exactly where you belong.

And every night, when he tucks your daughter into bed, kisses your growing belly, and wraps you up in his arms-

He knows.

He'd do it all over again just to get here.

Because nothing in this world is better than loving you and saying you've earned it, would be an understatement.

The End.

a/n: why am I emotional 🥹🥹 these are my babies fr. the end of an era. maybe when im missing them I’ll do an occasional check in on what there’re doing rn… maybe write a oneshot from time to time… cuz we all know ill never ACTUALLY stop writing them😭

tags: @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @sturniolohohoho @courta13 @izzylovesmatt @matthewsturnsgf @aaa-mi @bigbeefybitch @hopelesslydevotedsstuff @wastelandzella @yourmother29 @whore4-chrissturniolo @idefinitelyhateu @madisonnxtdoor22 @user1smvtysturniolo @briisturniolo @sturniololuvz @hesvoid34 @butterflytsblog @mommymomm @mattsbunnyxx @blushsturns @i8kth @annalisesturnioloxo @kenziesturniolo54 @ribread03 @sturnl0ve @grace-sturniolo12 @sophsturns @mattsturnfx @lilyloveschris @milo-the-dog @riggysworld @scrumptiouskoalabasement @tenaciousearthquakeperson @sturnlovematt22 @seros-girl @sofsturnz689 @sturniololuvz @eeyoresturnz

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princesssmars · 7 hours ago

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so...we can all agree vi is an ass girl, right?

modern!au. 18+ content ahead. post contains lesbian sex and dry humping. inspired by this video from love and deepspace. i didnt know they got down like that. wc : 3.081.

she didn't show it often before, but lately violet could quickly become so achingly desperate for you.

she didn't show it often, but violet could become so achingly desperate.

at the start of your relationship, she tried to play off her need for you in a casual way, brushing it off as just being a very attentive girlfriend. you never had a problem with, always open and accepting of whatever little bits of attention she would give to you.

but then one day she slips, and she can feel your dynamic shift as soon as it happens.

she was away visiting her family for the holidays, body snugly tucked under the covers in her childhood bed as she held her phone above her face. the house was quiet, the air was cold, and she was having an internal battle with the reasonable part of her that told her to call it a night and drift off to sleep already...

and then there was the other side. the one that suddenly brings to her attention the steady heat that’s been building beneath her stomach after you sent the prettiest photo of you all dolled up in your parent’s guest bathroom. the one that made her bite her lip as she observed every inch of you through the screen before instantly liking the photo and sending back a flirty message. the one that now gravitated her fingers to calling your phone in the middle of the night and hoping and praying you’d pick up, nearly breathing a sigh of relief when you did.

"vi? are you alright?"

loaded question, she thinks to herself. in perfect health? of course. of sound mind? debatable, but for the most part yes. alright? no, definitely not at the moment.

"yeah, yeah, i’m alright princess. just wanted to talk to you."

"aww, you're such a sweetie. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

and yes, she does appreciate and silently adore the sweet sentiment. but the sound of you cooing at her with just the tiniest hint of a rasp in your voice from tiredness only cements her fate, having to use all of the rational energy she has left to stop whimpering.

"tell me how your trips been. wanna hear your voice for a little longer."

"no problem. well im fine, everyone here is good. besides my aunt nat, she's still moody because no one allowed her in the kitchen again-"

you go on about your family and their shenanigans, and she cant help but quietly laugh along when you giggle about some of the stories and memories you've made. but the 'conversation' takes a turn when you start to talk about her.

"you know i miss you, right?"

she feels a subtle pang in her chest, half longing and half desire. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. rolled over in bed this morning and kept trying to find you till i realized where i was. it's weird not waking up with you."

she hums, hoping you cant hear her stuttered breaths through the receiver. she doesn't know why hearing about you subconsciously looking for her embrace is what does it for her, but she can only give a short response as one of her hands trails down into boxers.

"wish i could've been there with you, baby."

"mmm, me too. missed your warmth, swear you're like my own personal heater. wish you could be here with me now."

her breathing stops and her eyebrows raise. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. missed your hands, too."

fuck, fuck fuck fuck. she's taken off guard, mind racing at your words and tone and before she knows it she has two fingers stuffed inside of herself while she quietly whimpers for you to keep talking to her.

"fuck, just a little more baby, please, 'm so close-"

"aww, you're such a good girl for me, aren't you violet?"

she swears she bites her lip so hard it nearly bleeds when she cums, walls clenching around her fingers and eyes rolling back into her head as she reaches her peak while you talk her through it.

the next week when she picks you up from the airport she can see it, a glimmer in your eye and quick in your smile that wasn't there before. she tries to ignore it when she pulls you in for a long-awaited embrace but then she just gets so enveloped in your warmth, your smell, the feeling of your body pressed hers. she's only yanked out of her lovestruck stupor when you whisper a sly little comment in her ear about how long and tight she's been holding you.

"call me crazy but if i didnt know any better i'd say you're feeling a little desperate for me."

so the cats out of the bag. she's super attached to you, so what? it's not like you ever complained about it, instead constantly using her neediness to your advantage to get what you want from her. you'll likely never have to beg and convince her to get up from bed to change the thermostat again, only needing to graze your hand across her chest and press a lingering kiss to the space beneath her chin before she's leaping out of bed and speedwalking down the hall.

and don't even get her started on her libido. the both of you had an amazing sex life already, able to almost instinctually tell what brought the other the most mindblowing pleasure possible. but ever since that night, it's like her desire for you only increased tenfold, barely able to go a day without getting her hands on you or vice versa.

it only reached a head when you decided to truly test her limits.

she had taken up a later shift to help out loris who had a date, which meant by the time she returned home she was too tuckered out to have her way with you. but during times like these, she could always count on the early morning sun waking her up just in the rich window of time for morning sex. but when the light rays peek through her bedroom window and she uses her arm to pull you closer she finds you absent, your side of the bed cold.

after a brief search through the house, she opened her text messages just to find your sent a sweet text only an hour before she’d woken up to tell her your friends had invited you on a last minute girls day around the city the night before, and you didn’t want to wake her from her sleep since she seemed exhausted when she got home.

vi groans and falls back into the pillows, lousily texting you back a short message to tell you she loves you and hopes you have fun with your friends. she’ll be alright, she can go a few more hours without you near.

but only an hour later after she’s showered and eaten a quick breakfast she feels the ache start to build in her chest, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall and groaning when realizes just how long this day is going to feel.

everything she tries to do to keep her mind off of you fails miserably. doing chores? she's thinking back on the time when the both of you first split up household duties when you moved in together, feeling giddy at sharing something so menial with the girl she was enamored with. making herself a protein shake for the gym? now she's stuck in a daydream about all the times you've been in this kitchen together, sharing sweet baked goods and sweeter kisses as you settle into domestic bliss.

she has got to get out of the house.

jayce understood her problem as soon as she called inviting her down to the gym for a few hours to work off any ‘pent-up energy’ she’s currently... unable to get out in her preferred method.

it works for a while, the familiar smell of sweat and the slight ache in her muscles grounding her back into reality as she makes casual gym talk with jayce. she's just starting to feel like the absence of you is off of her mind when she hears your text notification on her phone, accidentally leaving her place as jayces spotter to open up her phone.

as soon as her brain registers that you’ve sent her pictures she makes up some lame excuse to get to the bathroom, tuning out her friend's groan of disapproval as she speed walks to the restrooms and locks herself in one of the stalls.

the first few messages are sweet, little selfies of you and your friends as you enjoy your day together as you get some sweet treats together at one of the malls concession stands. a lovesick smile involuntarily grows on her face, always happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself with the people who care about you. but her eyes start to squint when you start to send pictures of you trying on various outfits from some of the outlet stores, posing demurely in front of the trying room mirrors.

but then her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when suddenly shes getting photos of you in her vagina's favorite enemy - lingerie.

even before vi started acting so eager about your body, it wasn't hard for you to catch on to the fact that the woman was so clearly an ass girl. even on five hands, you wouldn't be able to count the number of times you’d caught her staring or sneaking small glances at your behind, not to mention how she thought she was being discreet about her affection for it with the numerous times she’d slap it when walking by you. she tried to laugh it off when you brought it up in conversation, assuring you that she loved each and every part of you and could never pick a favorite.

but now you were determined to really see how much she wanted you, using every dirty trick in the book you could think of. she feels her face get hot as she looks down at her phone, the image of you in lacy lingerie, back facing the mirror as the magenta fabric (nearly the same shade as her hair, jesus christ,) stretches across the swell of your ass and crisis crosses across your back.

her brain short circuits. before she can think about it she’s saving the pictures to her phone and calling you at the speed of light.

“hey, violet. how’s your day?”

“you are so… evil. amazing and beautiful and evil.”

your giggle rings through the receiver, melodic and teasing. “what's the problem? you don't like the set?”

“don’t even joke. when are you getting home?”

“mmm not till late, the girls wanted to go to a club tonight.”

“oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“do you want me to send you the address?”

vi hasn't been to a nightclub in months, at first harshly avoiding the hard party scene in favor of her sobriety before feeling no need to indulge in the party scene once her life became more stable, especially after she met you. but she never stopped you from going out and having fun with your friends, tagging along once in a blue moon to sip on a mocktail while she chatted up the bartender and stared at your ass while you danced.

tonight was an extremely necessary blue moon.

the air is hot, and the feel of her drink burns her throat as vi waits at the bar, blue eyes wide and aware as she stares at the club’s crowded entrance like it owes her money. the bartender asks if she’s alright, scared she’s waiting for someone to arrive to jump them before she assures them she’s fine. they slowly nod and get back to making drinks, nearly dropping a glass out of fright when she slams her glass on the bar and quickly makes her way over to you.

if she wasn't so laser-focused on finally getting her hands on you she might've been a little cocky at the fact that you look like you were about to salivate at the sight of her, knowing she made the right decision to wear the tight pants she knew you loved on her. in only a second she’s got her hands settled on your waist, not caring that your friends are laughing at her clear excitement over seeing you in your club outfit, a tiny dress so she can see the wide expanse of your legs, your arms, your shoulder - fuck, the straps of the pink bra aren’t even hidden by the strapless dress-

“wanna dance with me?” your voice is nothing short of flirtatious, and you already know your answer by the way you start to walk past her to the dance floor, already predicting how she follows you like she’s on a leash.

as the both of you grind and dance in the middle of the club every thought racing through vi’s head is centered on you, physically and mentally unable to focus on anything else when she finally has you so close again after what felt like years. she feels a familiar sense of euphoria when her palms glide up and down your waist, smirking to herself when she feels you shudder when her hands reach up to cup and discreetly squeeze your breasts. she’s feeling happy about finally starting to turn the tables back on you before you arch your back into her, your ass pressing into her as your hand reaches up to her head, nails dusting along her cheek before reaching into her hair and pulling.

it’s only to be expected that that’s her breaking point, dragging you through the dancing bodies and into the back of the building until she can find anywhere to get you alone, thanking any god that exists above that she finds an open storage closet and drags you inside, pressing you face first towards the door. a little voice in her head reminds her not to be too rough with you, but it’s quickly silenced when she sees just how much you crave it, how your back is yet again arching and your hands are clenching into fists from their places on the wooden door.

it's nice, to remember that you want her as much as she wants you.

in only a few seconds she’s given into it, pressing you further into the door by pressing her body against yours and grinding her crotch into the fat of your ass, eyes lidded and head dropping to rest on your shoulder from the rush of pleasure she feels below.

“vi, oh my god-” your voice is light and airy, every word almost choked out as you struggle to prevent yourself from moaning out and alerting every person in the bar about what the two of you were up to.

“i know, fuck, I know, baby. i just-” she cuts herself off with a groan when she lets her hand travel down your front and under your dress to your panties, face running hot when she feels just how wet you’ve gotten. she’s all but rushing to ruche up your dress, mind going fuzzy yet again at seeing the pink fabric covering your ass and how it feels under her when she begins humping you yet again.

“nngh, knew it. knew you were an ass girl.” you giggle.

“god, please stop talking-”

whatever snarky little comment you were going to make dies in your throat when her arm comes up and around your neck to hold your jaw, turning your head around and smashing her lips onto yours. you whimper and moan into her mouth, violet greedily eating the noises of your pleasure as she takes you up against the door.

you pull back for a few seconds to catch your breath, both of your eyes drifting to the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together.

she can feel it, then. an almost electric charge that runs form her body into yours. you lean into her touch, arch into her further like you’re trying ot merge your bodies into one. when her other hand tightens around the pushed-up fabric of your dress and she gets that absolutely adorable scrunch between her eyebrows you know what she’s asking, and you gently nod your head.

and so she presses her lips back to yours, her crotch further into your ass, and rides you in the cramped nightclub storage closet. she's grateful that you seem to be enjoying it just as much as she is, her mind completely focused on getting closer and closer to her peak. she can feel it building quickly, a growing heat below her stomach reach to burst at any moment. all it takes is you, sucking on her tongue before mumbling muffled words into her mouth begging for her to finish against you. she cums with a stifled moan into your mouth, only amplified when she feels you shudder and go loose in the legs beneath her.

you’re both panting, sweaty, and tired as you stare at each other. it’s a comfortable silence as you help each other adjust - vi fixing your dress and you attempting to put her hair back in her signature style.

“so,” your voice lilts up as vi’s busy fixing her jacket, debating if she wants to take it off to cool down or not, knwoing she’ll probably just wrap it around your arms outside anyway. “you gonna admit it yet?”

she rolls her eyes, looking at you with an exasperated but fond look in her eyes that makes your stomach flip. “you just love being proven right, don’t you?”

“absolutely.”

“fine, you were right. are you happy?”

“very. now, let’s go home annnd maybe,” your fingers hook into the loops of her pants and tug her closer,”you can show me a little more just how much you need me, yeah?”

maybe, vi would show her neediness for you more often. just a little.

#shaboingboing #3k words...drabble right...#arcane #arcane x reader #vi #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x reader smut #vi smut

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spideyjimin · 8 hours ago

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Bloodlines entwined: IV | jjk

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

— pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader

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

— rating: 18+

— words: 10,073

— warnings: sexual tension, some nervousness, strong language, mention of sex, mention of breakup, mention of pain, crying, teasing, pain, screaming, some panicking, and nudity

— author’s note: this is for now my absolute favorite chapter of this series. so many things happen & it’s a very vulnerable one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter 🤗 let me know what you think and thanks from the bottom of my heart for the love shown to this series ❤️

Chapter IV: standing next to you

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Jungkook is patiently waiting for you at the fertility clinic’s entrance.

Today is a special day.

It’s the first day you’ll meet your little baby. However, it’s also a bit of a terrifying day because there’s a possibility that there’s something wrong with the baby.

The werewolf king hasn’t slept at all, too worried about today. Yesterday, you told him about this appointment, and he asked if he could come. How could you say ‘no’ to him? He desires so much to be involved, you can see it in his eyes.

Now that you’re both on the same page about the baby, it feels like you’re on cloud nine. You’re both going to have a child, except it’s definitely not going to be as planned. You were both planning on being alone, but you have each other now.

Jungkook senses you arriving in your car, his eyes completely drawn to you. Feeling your presence from far away is something very new to him; he never experienced it with anybody else. Not even with Yuna. He keeps wondering if it’s because you’re carrying his child, but that doesn’t seem to make any sense.

His entire being is always captivated by you. Whenever you’re around, you’re the only thing that truly matters. There’s something so different about you that he can’t quite explain. Being with you makes him feel good.

As you step out of your car, his eyes lock onto you, completely captivated by your beauty. You’re dressed in sleek black trousers and a white shirt that hints at your cleavage, an effortless yet striking combination. His gaze follows your every move as you open the passenger door to retrieve your long black coat and purse.

The man swallows with difficulty. He finds you extremely beautiful, he’d even say that he has never laid his eyes on someone this pretty. Yuna can’t even compare next to you. And what makes you even prettier is the little life you’re carrying inside you. You’re the mother to his child which is quite a big deal though.

When you notice him, a bright smile appears on your face. His beauty is quite striking, and you wonder how you’ll be able to live a life with such a handsome man. You hope that the baby will take his good looks, because damn, Jungkook is alluring.

His outfit is a bit more casual than yesterday’s, but it’s still more formal than when meeting him at the town square. He’s dressed in blue skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a checked suit jacket. It’s simple, but definitely a great look.

Once you’ve reached him, you actually don’t really know what to do. Do you simply stay in front of him? Or do you kiss on the cheek? Or do you shake his hand?

“A simple kiss on the cheek is enough.”

Jungkook didn’t move his lips at all although you’ve heard him loud and clear in your head.

“Did you say something?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head.

That’s weird.

However, you decide to follow the voice in you heard—that probably was a hallucination. You get closer to him before pressing a gentle kiss on his squishy cheek. Both of your hearts start beating at the same rapid rhythm. For a moment, Jungkook notices how in synch your hearts are beating, but he doesn’t really give too much credit to it.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you say after the kiss.

“Hi, yn,” he takes a step back to look at you. “Ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” the brightest smile appears on your face.

The two of you head inside the clinic while casually talking about how you’re feeling about this appointment. By the looks of it, Jungkook is more nervous than you. You’re actually not really worried as you constantly hear your child’s heartbeat that grows stronger every day. The only concern there might be is if the baby has any malformation, but even like that, you feel that deep down, you know the baby is just fine.

The doctor—who gave you the extremely bad news of the sample mix-up a month ago—makes her way inside the room after you both got inside. She clearly doesn’t know how to act in front of you, but you decide to smile to put her at ease. On the other side, Jungkook seems closed off, he almost looks pissed.

“Hi Miss y/l/n and Mister Jeon,” she offers you both a smile while she invites you to take a seat.

The two of you sit down before she does the same. Jungkook clearly doesn’t look happy; he seems to still resent her for the mistake made.

“How have you been feeling?” she asks with concern.

“I’m actually doing great,” you inform her.

You look at your right to Jungkook, trying to check his reaction. His dark and intense eyes are fixed on the doctor, leaving you wondering if he’s planning on answering or if he’ll just keep looking at her like he’s about to kill her. By the way his jaw clenches, you assume he’ll ignore her. But, to your surprise, he breaks the tension with a sharp answer.

“Could be better,” he coldly says.

The sharpness in his tone makes you blink. “You could be nicer to her,” those are the words you’d definitely like to say to him, but you resist the urge to call him out. Jungkook turns to you abruptly, his expression unreadable, as always.

“What?” Jungkook asks, his brows furrowing. Your eyes widen as you realize what just happened. He heard you.

“This woman gave me a hundred heart attacks,” he continues. “No way, I’ll be nice to her.”

You stare at each other in silence, your hearts beating rapidly. None of you has moved your lips, but you’ve been mentally talking. This is too wild for you. Jungkook doesn’t understand how on earth that is possible, and you believe that it’s one of those werewolf abilities you’re still discovering.

“Again, I’d like to apologize again for this mistake,” she clears her throat, pulling both of you back into the room. “The costs have been fully refunded to you this week. In principle, you should have already received the reimbursement by now.”

You nod as you remember seeing your bank account increase a lot after receiving the money. It’s honestly so weird to have so much right now, but you’ll transfer most of it to your investment and spare accounts. There’s no way you’ll leave your money to lose value.

While the refund doesn’t erase the mistake, it’s a reminder of how messy this whole situation has been.

“Before we proceed with the ultrasound,” the doctor continues. “I’d like to confirm with you if you’ve made a decision about the pregnancy,” she says.

Jungkook’s unreadable and mysterious face sends shivers down your spine. The energy he radiates is heavier and darker, and you feel the storm growing inside him. He seems to have become a totally different person since entering the room. You know he’s furious at the clinic for their huge mistake, and you understand why. But now, you’ve both decided to keep the baby so in the end, it’s all good.

But still, you need him here, not lost in his anger.

“Yes,” you gently say, offering a small smile before your gaze moves back to the man sitting next to you. “We’ve decided to proceed with the pregnancy.”

“Okay, perfect then!” she seems to relax now.

You can see that he’s holding back, you can sense his anger, but you don’t want to see him like this. You’re about to meet your baby. You place your hand on top of his to gently squeeze it, your thumb tracing soothing circles over his skin.

You instantly see his stiff shoulder relax slightly, and you can sense the heat of his anger vanishing, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. You hold onto his hand, willing him to stay calm. He remains quiet, though you can feel him shimmering under the surface. The doctor stands up and gestures toward the next room.

“We can go then do the ultrasound,” she stands up. “How would you like to proceed?”

You’re both confused about her question, not really understanding what she means.

“What do you mean?” you ask, glancing between her and Jungkook.

“This is a pelvic ultrasound,” she explains. “The baby is very small, so we can’t use the standard method.”

“Oh,” you both respond at the same time, the realization dawning on you.

“I’ll leave you then alone,” Jungkook instantly retorts while he shifts in his seat.

“No,” you grab his arm before he can move, your eyes meeting his with determination. “This is your child too. You should be here for the first ultrasound.”

“If you’d prefer,” the doctor starts suggesting. “Mister Jeon can wait outside while you get settled. I’ll ensure your privacy is protected and call him to be next to you once you’re ready.”

You consider her words, appreciating the balance of practicality and respect. This approach seems reasonable, and it might ease Jungkook’s discomfort. You glance at him, silently asking for his agreement. After a moment, he nods.

“Fine,” his voice softens.

The doctor leads you to the room, and Jungkook’s hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before letting you go. Even though he’s not right next to you, you feel his steady presence, grounding you as you prepare to see your baby for this very first time.

Once you’re in the other room, you remove your bottoms. The doctor gestures for you to lie down on the gynecological examination table and place your leg on the stirrups. This is such a vulnerable position, but you’ve been doing this a lot since you started this journey.

This is a room you’ve seen quite a lot, and it almost feels like a second house. The white sterile walls could make you feel uncomfortable, but the soft and calming lighting makes it feel like a warm room. It’s appeasing when you go through this entire process to procreate.

On your right, there is the ultrasound machine and a screen together with the material needed for the ultrasound like the gel. There is also the slim and long transvaginal ultrasound probe. It can look very scary, but it actually doesn’t hurt at all.

“Perfect,” the doctor says once you’re perfectly situated. “I’ll put a little blanket on top to cover you,” she indicates.

You nod with a bit of nervousness. Knowing that Jungkook will see you in this open posture makes you feel a bit anxious. You’ve never come to any gynecologist appointment with any men, not even your exes. It would have felt weird, especially since you were more of a fuck girl. It’s weird to admit it but you’ve always been more comfortable in having sex with somebody than committing to them.

Obviously, you engaged in certain relationships, but it was mostly to try to fill the deep void inside you. There was one man, Elliott with whom you stayed for three years. He’s been the only man who felt right to fall in love with. He treated you right, loved you right, and made you feel right. However, your fear of losing someone special got the best of your relationship.

This breakup knocked you down. You lost someone you deeply loved, just like you lost your parents. Since then, you haven’t engaged in anything with anybody. No dating and no sex. It’s been about focusing on yourself and understanding yourself better. And it’s been two years.

With this entire process of being a mother on your own, it didn’t feel like two years went by.

The doctor leaves for a couple of seconds before reappearing with Jungkook. When your eyes meet, you can tell that this is a first time for him. His facial expression almost indicates some shock to see you in this position. It’s not really glamorous, but for now, that’s how you get to meet your little baby.

Jungkook stands at your left, his eyes going between you and the gynecologist material. A smile grows on your face while you watch him; he looks adorable.

The doctor takes the probe, covers it with a kind of long condom, and puts the gel on it. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he sees it, causing your smile to grow bigger. “Is it going to hurt?” he communicates through his thoughts.

“No, don’t worry,” you answer back before grabbing his hand to squeeze it.

It leaves you wondering how things would have gone if he had done this through surrogacy. Would he be present for the first ultrasound? It would be logical if he was because it is his child, but it would feel weird though. Well, this is probably he will never know since it isn’t about surrogacy anymore.

“Can I?” the doctor asks with the long probe in her hands.

You simply nod, and she proceeds to insert it inside you.

“Just relax,” she tells you.

Jungkook avoids watching down by respect to you, but this is all surprising to him.

The coldness of the device catches you a bit off guard although you should have expected it to be this cool. By reflex, you squeeze Jungkook’s hand, and he obviously starts worrying. However, he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. Just like the doctor, he wants you to relax.

For a moment, you turn to glance at him. His soft expression calms you down, and right now, you wouldn’t want anyone else to be next to you. It’s weird to think that you like his presence around you when you embarked on this journey by yourself. He wasn’t supposed to be here with you. If the samples hadn’t been mixed up, you’d be here alone.

Suddenly, you can see the image on the monitor move. The doctor is looking for the tiny little piece of life inside you. Then, suddenly, a blurry figure appears, and the baby’s heartbeat breaks the silence of the room.

Even though you’ve been hearing their heartbeat since the first day, hearing it loud and clear makes it emotional. The baby is really alive. His tiny moving heart is clearly visible on the monitor. A little tear of joy streams down your face.

The second the heartbeat can be heard, Jungkook squeezes your hand. His baby—or should he say your baby—is thriving inside your belly. This makes it real; he’s about to become a father. A little Jeon is about to join the family, and that fills his heart with a pride he can’t explain.

The circumstances that created this tiny human—and wolf—aren’t the greatest. But this baby has been more than desired by his two parents. The two of you are exceptionally happy to finally see the baby.

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. It’s unique. It’s incredible. And it’s heartwarming.

The doctor is speaking in the background, but none of you seems to pay attention to her words. You’re solemnly focused on the tiny blurry figure on the screen. None of you speak; you simply embrace every emotion you feel, and your hands intertwined together. As you see the baby, you feel excited for the upcoming ultrasounds to see them slowly growing.

“All seems to be fine with the baby,” those words push you out of your reverie.

This is all that matters. If the baby is doing great, you don’t care about the rest. Life has been so chaotic lately, and this is the best news you ever got in the past few weeks.

“So, this was our last appointment together,” she explains while removing the probe. “From now on, you’ll have to be followed by your obstetrician. We will contact you throughout the pregnancy and after the birth to check up on you.”

Jungkook is relieved that he won’t have to come back to this place. His eyes look down at your fingers entwined; you’re still holding onto each other. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, since the first second he saw you, he knows what you truly represent to him.

Since he met you, he’s been experiencing things he never did with anyone else. He’s been having such a strong connection with you. And now, you can even communicate through thoughts. That is a unique bond. A bond you only create with one person only. Your soulmate.

But that’s something Jungkook doesn’t want to admit or believe right now. There has been so much going on right now, and for sure, when everything will slow down, it will probably hit him in the face.

The father of your child leaves the room so you can get dressed. Once ready, you join him in the doctor’s office. He’s patiently waiting for you, and it truly warms your heart to see him here. You take a seat next to him while the doctor proceeds to explain certain things about what’s next with the pregnancy. She gives a bunch of advice which honestly seems to be helpful.

After fifteen minutes, you leave her office with Jungkook. It’s a weird feeling to know you’re never coming back here again. For a couple of months, you’d come quite often, but your project is finally taking place. You’re about to become a mother. A werewolf mother.

The two of you walk in complete silence until your car. You’re both still processing what you just saw and experienced. When you reach your car, you finally look up at him. He’s biting his lower lip, clearly lost in his thoughts.

“You’re okay?” you ask.

His eyes finally meet yours. There’s something in his gaze you’ve never quite seen before. You’re seeing a storm of emotions in them.

You see worry, the weight of responsibility already pressing heavily on his shoulders. You see vulnerability, something he rarely shows, he’s always composed under any circumstances. But beyond all that, there is something else. There’s awe, as though the ultrasound was a moment that truly humbled him. It’s as if he’s beginning to grasp the enormity of what’s happening, of the life growing inside you, and of the connection forming between the three of you.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “It’s just something special to see the little life forming inside you,” he admits.

“It is,” you offer him a little smile.

Jungkook looks so endearing right now, and you just want to hug him tight in your embrace.

“Tomorrow night is the full moon,” he then completely changes the conversation’s topic. “If you’re still okay with it, I’d like you to be at my place.”

This approaching full moon is making you nervous. It’s the first one you’ll experience as a pregnant lady, but it’s also probably going to be your first one where you’ll shift into a wolf shape. And that sounds pretty scary, especially since you’ve known about your werewolf heritage for like three days.

Jungkook takes a step closer, his hand delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear. This simple gesture sends shivers down your spine, and your heart suddenly beats faster. Your eyes get lost in his, and the world seems to fade away around you as his thumb lightly brushes against your cheek.

Since he has appeared in your life, you’ve been going through lots of ups and downs. He has unveiled the werewolf world to you together with a part of yourself you never knew. It hasn’t been easy, but his presence feels grounding and reassuring. Deep down, you kind of feel that he’s never going to leave you. It’s an unspoken truth that you can’t explain, but somehow, you know.

His face moves dangerously closer to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin. Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. There is no doubt that he’s about to kiss you, and truthfully, there’s nothing else you want more. But a small voice in the back of your mind whispers caution.

Today, you’ve experienced a lot of emotion, especially since you got to see your baby for the first time. You don’t want this kiss to happen because of the intensity of the moment. You want this first kiss to happen because it’s right, because you both want it with absolute clarity, not as a reaction to the whirlwind of feelings you’re navigating.

His nose brushes against yours, his warmth pulling you in, and your lips are a breath away from meeting when you step back. Jungkook blinks, surprised. His eyes search yours, and you can see confusion and even a touch of disappointment in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he’s definitely too surprised.

“I’ll be at your place tomorrow,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “Just send me the details.”

Before he can say anything, you jump in your car and slip away, your pulse still racing. As you’re driving, you try to steady your thoughts, pushing aside what almost happened. You’re not ready. Not just yet.

Following Jungkook’s address, your car slows down as you approach an imposing set of gates. Massive iron bars stand tall against the backdrop of the dense woods surrounding the estate, their presence as commanding as the man you’re here to meet.

You stop and glance around from your windshield before you leave the car. Beyond the gates, the large trees hide the driveway and the house. Your imagination starts to fill in the blanks. He’s the king, after all. His home must be grand, maybe even overwhelming.

On the wall beside the gate, a modern intercom system catches your eye. A silver button gleams in the sunlight, its simple design contrasting with the timeless feel of the gates. Your hand hovers near the button as you still look around you. You feel so small, standing here at the threshold of Jungkook’s world; one you’re not entirely sure to belong yet.

Taking a deep breath, you press the button. Barely seconds later, a voice is heard through the intercom.

“Hello,” you don’t recognize the voice. “How can I help you?”

Well, as the king, it wouldn’t surprise you that he has people working for him. He couldn’t possibly take care of his house by himself.

“Hello, I’m yn,” you say. “I was invited by Jung… Mister Jeon,” you answer.

“Hello, miss y/l/n, we were waiting for you,” the voice says. “Please follow the road to the mansion.”

The impressive gates move to let you enter Jungkook’s estate. You instantly jump back into your car before starting the engine. Very carefully and slowly, you drive through the road, your eyes wandering around you. This is definitely a very impressive state, and there’s absolutely no doubt that the father of your child is wealthy.

After a little while, a sprawling, stone-clad mansion with dark and earthy tones comes into view. The architecture is both ancient and timeless, with arches windows, and carved details that hint at its long history. You can’t believe this is where Jungkook lives, and it also leaves you wondering if this is where your child is going to grow up. Well, most probably yes.

An impressive courtyard suddenly appears, and it’s surrounded by well-manicured gardens that lead into the untamed wilderness of the forest. It’s simply incredible.

You don’t really know where to stop your car, but a man dressed in black clothing runs in your direction. In order to not make him run more, you halt and roll down the window. He’s out of breath when he reaches you.

“Miss y/l/n,” he manages to say, and you offer him a little smile. “Please follow me with your car to the parking spot.”

The man starts walking again, and this time you follow his direction. Everything about this seems unreal. A month ago, you totally ignored werewolves existed; you were planning everything to welcome a baby. And today, you’re here. You’re about to enter the mansion of the Werewolf King, and the father of your baby.

Seconds later, the man indicates where you can park. Once you stop the engine, the man opens the door for you. Wow, this is a first time, but you deeply appreciate it even though it wasn’t necessary.

“Thanks,” you say as you step out.

“You’re welcome,” he bows. “Would you have any luggage with you?” he asks.

For a moment, you take a look at the man. This is definitely a footman, Jungkook’s personal footman. Honestly, this feels like being in one of those Christmas movies where a random girl meets a prince or king and they fall in love. However, in this case, you don’t fall in love and you share a kid.

“Yes,” you answer. “But don’t worry, I’ll take it.”

The man shakes his head. “I got personal orders from Mister Jeon to take care of it,” he says. “And I would also never leave a pregnant woman carry her luggage.”

Seems like you don’t have much to say here. He’s following his boss’ orders, and based on what you see, Jungkook won’t allow any rule to be unfollowed. And you’ll also feel guilty if anything happens to this man because of you.

“Okay,” you admit in defeat. “Then, let me just open the trunk.”

The man follows you and instantly grabs your small luggage when the trunk is opened. It’s honestly super weird, and if everything will be like this tonight, you’re not sure you’ll get used to it. For sure, Jungkook undoubtedly grew up in the middle of all this, but this is new to you.

“Please follow me,” he repeats.

Now that you’re closer to the mansion, you get to see every detail. The front features a massive, double-door entrance made of dark and polished wood, with ornate iron handles. There are also some stone statues around the façade, giving an air of mystery and foreboding.

Jungkook is standing in front of the door, with a little smile on his face. Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see him right here. You thought that his footman would guide you to a living room, or a study where his boss would be sitting and waiting for you.

“Thanks, Jinwoo,” Jungkook says to his footman.

The man bows before entering the mansion with your luggage in your hand. As you stand before Jungkook, you realize now that he’s a king. It feels instinctual to bow. Kings are meant to be respected and acknowledged for their status. Your knees slightly bend, and your head dips forward, but before you fully bow, his voice cuts through your thoughts.

“No need,” he murmurs in your mind. “You don’t have to do it with me.”

His voice holds a quiet authority, but there’s also something else. Something unspoken, almost tender. For a moment, you hesitate. Bowing feels like the respectful, appropriate thing to do, but his response leaves you questioning the boundaries of his role in your life.

“Are you sure?”

His piercing and dark eyes meet yours, unwavering and resolute. “I am,” he answers, his tone leaving no room for argument even if he’s speaking through your mind.

The intensity of his gaze makes your breath hitch as if he’s reaching past your thoughts and speaking directly to the very core of you. And then, something changes in the air between you. It’s not just his words that stop you. It’s the way he’s looking at you. His expression is almost wounded.

Now, you wonder if you offended him, and the guilt begins to creep in. You’ve never met someone who held so much power yet dismissed the formalities that come with it.

For Jungkook, the title of king isn’t just about wearing a crown. It’s a mantle he bears with pride and responsibility. But when it comes to you, it’s as if he wants to strip away the formalities, the hierarchies, the distance. He doesn’t want you to see him as a king. He wants you to see him for who he truly is.

With you, everything is simply different. When you met him, you totally ignored that he was a king. Every time you met, you would treat him as anybody else, and honestly, it felt great. He wasn’t a king. He simply was Jungkook.

“You’re different,” his voice softly brushes your mind again.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and the tension in your body slowly fades away. You try to let go of the urge to bow even though it feels weird. His strong presence almost commands reverence, but he made it clear: he doesn’t want that from you.

Jungkook gets closer, his hand brushing against your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Briefly, you close your eyes to savor the sweet contact of his skin against yours. This brings you back to yesterday when you were about to kiss. You regret how you walk away, especially since you desperately wanted to kiss him, but it’s better like this.

“Thank you,” you say as you open your eyes.

This sense of equality he’s extending to you warms your heart. Jungkook nods, his eyes softening before he takes a step back. This man is such a mystery, but it’s evident that he’s carrying so much on his shoulder. So much history, duty, and perhaps even loneliness that he tries to hide.

“Hi, yn,” he then says out loud as if you’re speaking for the first time.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you reply with a little smile growing on your face.

“How was the road?” he gestures for you to come inside.

As the gentleman he has proven to be, he lets you walk inside his house first. You’re welcomed with a grand double staircase made of white marble, a marble that matches the floor beneath your feet. Along the walls of the stairs, there are hanging paintings of people. Probably Jungkook’s ancestors.

In the middle, a massive chandelier made of iron is hanging. The walls are impressively high, giving this space a grandiose aspect. This is for sure the kind of place you never thought of seeing in your life. Everything about this room screams ancient and power.

“The trip was fine,” you answer while your eyes get lost. “Although I thought at some point that I got lost,” you explain, your eyes now looking at the man behind you. “This is kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “As a werewolf king, it would be weird if I wasn’t surrounded by a forest.”

“It makes sense,” you admit. “But still, I was really about to call you with despair.”

Somehow, you can see in his eyes that he would have loved that. Saving the damsel in distress, but that’s not for you. There’s no need to save you, you can manage by yourself.

“You were about to call me?” he smirks with evident amusement in his voice. “I wouldn’t have minded. It’s not every day that I get to play the hero.”

You hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t get used to the idea. I can handle myself just fine,” you answer while crossing your arms with a small smile appearing on your face.

Jungkook tilts his head slightly while his smirk deepens. “Oh, I know,” his voice is softer now and his eyes are shining with admiration. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

At his words, you can feel the heat beneath your cheeks. You weren’t expecting him to compliment you while insinuating that he has a way too big estate, but you take the compliment.

Your child’s father proceeds then to make a little home tour. For sure, he doesn’t show you all the rooms as it is not needed. The first thing he shows you is the bedroom you’ll be staying in tonight. It’s located on the second floor, and the decoration is very simple. It’s a king-size bed with two nightstands and some furniture. Your luggage is already placed on a fancy bench.

A bit further on the second floor, there is the dining room. You’ll be eating here tonight before it gets dark. Apparently, it’s important to eat well and enough before taking a wolf shape. It helps to calm down the hunger, and it lowers the risk to kill someone or an animal.

On the third floor, there is his magnificent bedroom. It’s extremely big, you’d say your entire apartment fits in the room. It’s also very well decorated; there are many pictures and paintings, and the room breaths ‘Jungkook’. However, the most impressive part is the large walk-in wardrobe. He has a remarkable quantity of clothes.

Then, he guides you outside to an outbuilding. It’s a very rustic, ancient, and a big one, but it looks cute even though it’s a bit far from the main house. However, what stands out more is the strong smell. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s something that definitely draws you.

“So, this place was built for the full moons,” he begins to explain. “This is where we shift, and it avoids destroying the prestigious house my ancestors built. It’s also closer to the woods.”

As you get closer, the scent grows stronger.

“My ancestors also placed something in the walls to attract us. When we shift the scent is even stronger than now, and it was made in case we get out of control. That way, we won’t be going to the main house. It was made to protect the humans living in our house,” you nod at his explanation.

Jungkook opens the door, letting you in first. There’s absolutely nothing in this room, except for a fridge.

“I don’t really use this room anymore,” he explains.

“Do you completely control your transformation?” you ask.

“Yep, that’s the perk of being an Alpha and a King,” he explains. “I’m not influenced by the moon’s phases anymore, but I’ll be with you tonight.”

“And for normal werewolves, at what moment of the full moon do they start changing?” you ask with curiosity.

You need to mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming, there are so many unknowns. For sure, Jungkook will guide you every step of the way tonight, but you still want to know what is going to happen.

“As soon as the sun is down,” he says.

“Okay,” you reply.

For a moment, you just look at this empty room, your heart beating crazily in your chest. Seeing this makes you realize that maybe tonight, you’ll shift into a wolf. It’s a reminder of the heritage your parents hid from you all these years. Not only is this extremely scary, but it’s even more because you’ll have to do it without your parents; the people you loved the most.

“I’m scared, Jungkook,” you turn around to look at him. “So so scared,” you admit.

Jungkook comes closer, his right hand grabbing your left one. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, trying to comfort you as much as possible.

“I understand,” his voice is soft. “This is all new to you, and you’re pushed right through the possibility of shifting into a wolf. I’m sorry this is all happening to you, and I wish things were different.”

He pauses for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours. “No matter what happens, I’ll be right here, standing next to you.”

You squeeze his hand while you whisper, “Thank you.” His support undeniably means a lot to you, you’re not sure you’d be able to go through this without him.

“If I could, I’d take your place in a heartbeat,” he continues. “I’d take all the pain and carry this burden if it meant you didn’t have to suffer. I wouldn’t hesitate, not even for a second.”

Without any hesitation, you throw yourself into his arms to hug him. Pressing a cheek against his chest, you close your eyes. His warmth seems to melt away all the tension in your body. Jungkook has been giving you the comfort of knowing that you don’t have to face everything alone. He’s taken a bit aback, but he wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tight against him.

His lips press a gentle kiss on your head while you remain in this position for a little while. His heartbeat appeases your soul, and it’s the only sound that you hear. In the midst of all this chaos, you’re grateful you found Jungkook.

After dinner, with Jungkook, you go to the outbuilding. But before doing so, he hands you a ‘special’ outfit. It looks like a sporty outfit; it’s made of a black top with black leggings. However, it’s made of a very stretchy fabric.

Jungkook explained that his family developed an outfit capable of resisting the transformation some years ago. Instead of getting ripped off, the fabric detaches when you shift. Once you get back to your human form, you can easily put it back. Apparently, there are magnets inside.

It’s honestly impressive, but, at the same time, not surprising. It’s the royal family that we’re talking about. They have the means to create something like that.

Jungkook’s a big fan of this fabric; all his clothes are made of it. Since he’s not influenced by the moon, he needs adaptive clothes for whenever he wants or needs to turn into a wolf. He also mentioned that it’s very comfortable, which definitely is the case.

“This is impressive,” you say as you’re walking.

The man walking next to you is wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with baggy grey pants. He looks incredibly fine, but you try to avoid looking at him. You don’t want to seem like you’re obsessed with him when you’ve known him for like a month.

“Yep, it is,” he smiles at you.

Jungkook is unable to look away, you look like a damn walking meal. He’s very much aware that he’s attracted to you, otherwise, he wouldn’t have tried to kiss you the other day. But the damn full moon always intensifies any physical attraction. His eyes even still glance at your fine ass. Thankfully, you don’t notice anything.

Once you reach the outbuilding, you put down all the things you brought with you. There are some snacks, two blankets, and extra clothing in case something happens. Jungkook doesn’t fully close the door behind you because if he does so, you’ll be stuck here and might destroy everything.

Since the sun hasn’t fully set yet, you sit down on the floor with Jungkook.

“How was your first transformation?” you ask with curiosity.

“It wasn’t great,” he admits. “It was the day after I turned ten, and I didn’t want to shift. And believe me, resisting it is painful as hell,” he confesses. “On top of that, I was really angry so when I became a wolf, I was out of control. My father didn’t manage to catch me up when I was out in the woods, but he found me when I turned back to human. I was crying like a baby, and I couldn’t remember a damn thing. My father later found out that I had attacked somebody, but thankfully, nothing too bad.”

This doesn’t really reassure you. If Jungkook didn’t have a great first experience, how would be yours? Will you kill someone? Will you also lose control? Also, you’re pregnant so it might be even worse.

“Being a wolf is something I didn’t embrace for a long time, especially since I knew I would eventually become a king,” he confesses. “So for a solid two years, every full moon was extremely painful. Once I accepted it, everything became easier, but I was very young.”

“So our child will also have their first transformation at ten?” you ask, and he nods.

By then, you might probably be able to help your child as you would have gone through ten years of full moons. But that doesn’t change the fact that, right now, it seems scary.

“With my blood, our child will live this wolf experience very differently than any other werewolf. They will be a king or queen so they must be stronger and better prepared than anybody else.”

This kid seems to have gotten the golden ticket to be ‘special’. Merely a month ago, you thought this child would be a totally normal kid, but then, Jungkook proved you wrong.

“The fact that I’m from a different pack won’t have any impact?” you ask.

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “The royal blood is stronger than any other.”

“So I’m basically just carrying your child,” you jokingly say. “It’s like I don’t contribute at all.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s in the mood to tease you back.

“Carrying our child,” he corrects with a smirk, leaning in slightly. “And trust me, your contribution is very… memorable,” he whispers in your ear.

Shivers run down your spine, and the playful and cheerful mood has been replaced by something more heavy. By something hotter. And man, you crave so damn much to kiss this man. How will you survive this night with him by your side?

His face is way too close to yours, his eyes now locked on yours. His hot breath caresses your face, and his gaze is filled with lust. The two of you look at each other’s lips with so much desire. The attraction you feel towards him seems to grow bigger and bigger every day. You’re sure you’ll end up giving in, but you haven’t changed your mind. This kiss needs to happen because you’re both sure about it.

You clear your throat before straightening up. Jungkook instantly retreats, sitting the way he was before getting too close.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” you say.

In the blink of an eye, the sun goes down, and the moon lights up through the darkness of the night. At first, you don’t really feel anything, you’re even convinced you’ll easily navigate through this night. But very slowly, the pain intensifies as your bones and muscles realign into a form they never took before. Everything inside you is moving. Everything inside you is being torn apart. It feels like someone is pulling you in two different directions. You’ve never experienced this kind of pain.

“Jungkook,” you almost scream as the bones of your right arm move. “Help me.”

Tears run down your face, and Jungkook cups your face in his hands. His thumbs clean the tears on your cheeks. He’s on his knees just like you so he can be at your level. It’s impossible for you to be standing or sitting because of all the things changing in your body right now.

His eyes are full of fear and pain as he obviously can’t do anything but watch you go through this. Obviously, he can understand the intensity of the pain you feel, but he can’t take the pain away. He has healing powers, but they don’t work for this kind of scenario.

“I’m so scared.”

“I know,” he answers. “Don’t fight it, just embrace the pain. Scream at every moving bone. Scream when your muscles tear. But don’t hold anything back.”

You nod, your eyes don’t leave his as they seem to anchor you in some kind of way.

“You can do this,” he encourages you. ��You’re so fucking strong.”

The next couple of minutes that feel like hours, you spend them screaming with pain. You understand now why the first full moon is painful. It’s the first time that your body adapts to your wolf shape. A wolf and a human are very much different.

“You’re doing so great, yn,” his thumbs caress your cheeks. “You’re doing so well,” he repeats.

Suddenly, Jungkook sees your eyes becoming blue, and he mimics you, his eyes now turning red. The man in front of you decides to turn at the same pace so you don’t feel alone in this. For sure, it’s not quite the same, but at least, by the time, you’re fully a wolf, he’ll be as well.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Then, out of the blue, you feel the baby moving, and your hand instantly goes to your stomach. Your ears try to find the sound of his heartbeat, but you don’t find it.

“Something’s wrong?” Jungkook is looking at you with worry.

“The baby,” you simply answer, and Jungkook frowns. “I don’t hear the heartbeat.”

“Don’t worry, yn,” he says. “I hear it.”

“But I don’t,” you start crying.

Jungkook begins imitating the baby’s heartbeat to help you find it. Following his voice, you try to find the heartbeat, but you can’t. You never stop trying because right now, that’s what you need. You need to ensure your baby’s safety. This is already very painful and if on top of that, you lose your baby, it’ll be the end of you.

Swiftly, the heartbeat echoes in your ears which appeases your soul instantly. Right there, you notice the claws appearing in your hands. It’s impressive to see it coming from your body. It feels unreal. Your body is changing, transforming into something you don’t know. At the same time, you can sense his hands changing against your cheeks. It doesn’t hurt, but his skin texture is different.

After that, your teeth and ears change as well. Jungkook’s hands leave your face to give you room while you go through this transformation. And for a while, you remain like that, stuck in between your human and wolf shapes. However, the pain doesn’t fade away. It’s still there, but nothing has changed. Jungkook starts to pick up the despair in your eyes. You’re panicking.

“Yn,” he lifts your chin to make you look at him.

His red wolfy eyes meet your blue ones.

“I’m a failure, Jungkook,” you whisper.

Your cheeks are ravaged by the tears that have been running down your face since the beginning. It’s such a heartbreaking vision.

“I can’t even fully turn into a wolf.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he halts you before you add anything else. “Don’t say that. You’re far from being a failure.”

His fingers brush your chin with tenderness which soothes you.

“You’re fucking brave, yn,” he continues. “You tragically lost your parents, you’ve recently found out about you and this heritage, and since you’re ten, you’ve been navigating life in the most heartbreaking way,” he reassures you. “You’re doing way better than a lot of us, and we had at least ten years to prepare.”

His red eyes don’t ever look away from you. Even though they have a wolf aspect, you can see how soft his expression is.

“It’s okay to be scared, but I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”

You nod with tears still running down your face.

“Just let this happen, don’t fight it,” his voice is calm. “Take a deep breath and don’t focus on the pain.”

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and you try to focus on something other than the pain. Jungkook’s calm heartbeat invades your senses, and you decide to use it as an anchor. You decide to focus on it to forget about the pain.

Slowly, you feel your body complete the shift. Fur spreads over your skin, your hands become paws, and the clothes covering your body are now on the floor. The world around you now feels vivid and alive.

Your vision is totally different, and your senses are heightened. Everything seems to stimulate you, but somehow, you still manage to not react to everything.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook asks.

“The pain is completely gone,” you telepathically say.

Even if you deeply desire to speak, in this shape, you can’t say much except growl. However, you can still have a conversation with him through your thoughts. It’s honestly quite a useful.

“And everything feels different, but it’s fine so far,” you add.

He tilts his head, slightly confused.

“Okay, this is new,” he says. “Usually, people leave their human side when they turn,” he informs you. “But it’s good if you still have your human side while being a wolf.”

Jungkook shifts into his wolf form, and you’re blown away. A large wolf has now replaced the man standing in front of you. He’s even more impressive as a wolf than as a human. His stature is intimidating yet majestic, exuding both dominance and grace.

His fur is a blend of silvery grey and white, making his red eyes stand out a lot. His eye color adds an intense energy to his appearance, signifying his role as the king and the immense power he holds.

“Like what you see?” his voice echoes in your mind.

Even though you don’t have a human aspect anymore, you still feel your face get hot. You look away with shyness.

“You’re so majestic,” you admit.

“I’m supposed to be the king,” he answers while his muzzle appears in front of you. “I know I have a more imposing stature as a wolf.”

This is all so crazy. Never in a billion years would have you thought this was going to happen. You’ve turned into a wolf with a guy that is a werewolf king. On top of that, you’re calmly speaking with a wolf as if it’s the most normal thing.

“What color is my fur?” you ask with curiosity.

“It’s a deep dark brown,” he says while his eyes glance at you. “Very pretty color.”

Is this man going to make you blush all night long?

“Thanks,” your eyes don’t look away this time.

Jungkook now shows you how to walk, move, and adjust to your new body. Every step feels foreign, it feels like you’re learning how to walk again. As you’re walking towards the door, you have this feeling that you’re walking like an injured dog. But it’s your first time, you can’t be harsh with yourself.

The two of you head towards the door that opens to the woods. At first, you stumble slightly because your legs feel strange. But slowly, you realize that you’re walking. Really walking. The ground under your paws feels solid, reassuring. The more you move, the more natural it becomes.

As you walk towards the forest, you start to gain confidence, and it makes you feel powerful and free. It’s not easy to describe, a mix of awe and exhilaration that courses through your veins. Never in your life have you felt this way. It’s like this new form isn’t just a part of you—it’s always been waiting for you to claim it.

Your heart beats faster, not with fear, but with an exciting sense of possibility. You glance at Jungkook, whose red eyes shine under the moonlight. He senses your transformation is more than just physical. He gives you an encouraging look before he runs, his sleek sliver-and-white fur shining under the moon.

Jungkook keeps looking back at you to make sure you’re following him. However, you take your time because you want to adjust to this new reality. Slowly, you begin to move, your steps becoming steadier with each passing second.

As you enter the depths of the forest, you realize how deeper everything feels around you. It’s like you’re discovering for the first time what it feels like to be walking in the woods. The earthy scent of the moss and leaves fills your nostrils like never before. You feel every blade of grass under your paws, and the night wind brushes through your fur, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Over your head, the full moon glows in the dark, and its energy courses through you and heightens every sensation. It’s overwhelming but in the best possible way.

You push forward, your paws digging into the earth as you pick up speed. Jungkook slows down, waiting for you to catch up. His glowing red eyes are filled with pride and encouragement, and he swears he has never seen something as beautiful. Watching you discover everything he has taken for granted is heartwarming.

When you finally reach him, you stand next to him for a moment before you run past him. He’s definitely surprised, and soon, he’s running beside you. For the first time, you don’t struggle to keep up. You’re racing with him, your movements fluid and sure. The two of you snake through the trees, your bodies moving as though they’re part of the forest. You’ve never felt so alive, so connected to the world around you.

Jungkook keeps a steady pace beside you, and his presence grounds you in this surreal moment. You really can’t describe the feeling of having the wind rushing through your fur as you run. Eventually, you end up slowing to a stop in a clearing bathed in moonlight. Your breathing is heavy, but your heart has never felt this light before.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice echoing in your mind: “You did it.”

You look at the father of your child and realize this is so much more than just a transformation. It’s a bond, a shared experience you’ll for sure never forget. As overwhelming as it’s all been, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

This is your new reality, and it surprisingly feels like home.

“I did it,” you think to yourself, but Jungkook hears it.

The wolf next to you has never felt so much pride over someone turning into a wolf. He was present when his younger siblings made their first steps as wolves, and even though he was very proud of them, with you, it’s completely different. And he wonders if he will feel even more pride once your baby shifts for the first time.

For the rest of the night, you just walk through the woods, flirting with the city’s limits. Jungkook’s own forest seems to know no end, but it definitely gives you all the space you need to freely run. Surprisingly, you don’t meet any other wolf, but you don’t mind. You’re just too thrilled to discover this new body.

“It’s time to go back,” Jungkook informs you as he notices the darkness of the night leaving room for the sun’s light.

The father of your child guides you back to his outbuilding. Since you have no clue where you are, you simply follow him. Very quickly, you reach the large space. This time around, Jungkook closes the door once you’re both inside.

“So,” he stands in front of you. “To shift back to your human form is easier, but it’s more emotionally draining,” he explains. “It’s not painful, but it’ll take a lot of energy from you.”

You nod, it’s logical that it also contains its fair share of difficulty. Now, you just need to know how to go back to your human form.

“What do I need to do?” you ask.

“You need to set free the wolf inside you,” he tells you. “And visualize yourself as human.”

Well, seems easier said than done. How do you even set the wolf free? You’re definitely not very very sure how you should approach this, but you’ll try.

You close your eyes, but all you can think of is how you felt tonight. This has been by far one of the best experiences of your life. It was painful—you won’t hide it, but the aftermath made it worth it. You’d go through that pain again just to be able to walk so freely.

For a moment, it’s all you can think about, and it doesn’t help to shift you back into your ‘normal’ self. Then, you open your eyes and watch Jungkook.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you say.

The impressive wolf standing in front of you seems to think. He doesn’t really know what to tell you, he’s been able to shift so easily for over fifteen years. It’s easy to guide someone through the pain, but when there isn’t any, he simply doesn’t know what to say.

“Maybe try to think of someone you cherish, or a good memory, or at least, something that makes you happy.”

For the second time, you close your eyes. Your mind runs through all the positive events you lived, and one stands out from all of them. It’s a memory with your dad.

When you were little, you’d love to go to the shopping street downtown. There were always tons of people—something deeply annoying—, but you’d love to run through every store window to look inside. Your father would go to some of them to buy ‘grown-up’ things. You don’t remember what it was exactly because you didn’t really care back then. All you wanted was to see everything the store had.

At the end, there would be a pretty big café. If you’d behave well, you had the right to eat a pastry with orange juice. Obviously, you’d always make sure to wear your best behavior because the reward was worth it. For the pastry, you’d always go for a croissant with chocolate in it. Every time, you’d hope that the café would have this croissant. If not, you’d take whatever there was.

Your father would always take an espresso with a cheese toast. The smell of his coffee would always comfort you. Even right now, you can still smell it, and it has the same comforting effect. Those are the most precious souvenirs you have with your father.

After his passing, you never went back to that café. Felix tried to bring you there, but you’d refuse. You didn’t want to replace the souvenirs with your father. This café was your dad’s and yours, nobody else's. A little tear runs down your face as you remember that you’ll never be able to create new memories with him in that special place.

Without realizing it, you slowly shift back into your human form. When you realize it, you slowly open your eyes while standing up. Jungkook is still a wolf, but in a matter of seconds, he’s back to being a human.

Your eyes widen when you’re graced with a naked Jungkook, and you instinctively put your hands in front of your eyes. You weren’t really expecting this, and especially, to see this man naked any time soon. He chuckles, but then, it hits you— you’re naked as well.

“Shit,” you mumble.

Then, his warm hands wrap a blanket around you. You uncover your eyes to look back again at the werewolf king. He’s still very much bare, and you try to avoid staring below his chest. It feels totally inappropriate.

“Thanks,” you offer him a little smile.

To your surprise, his right arm is fully covered in tattoos. Honestly, you would have never imagined him with body art. He doesn’t give the type; perhaps it’s because he’s a king. Actually, you’ve never pictured any king adorned with such markings. And it truly makes him look a million times hotter.

Let’s not even talk about his toned figure…

Your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his body. His squared and broad shoulders look like they were carved from stone, and his muscular torso is just as well mesmerizing. The way his chest rises and falls with each breath is hypnotic, and for a moment, you can almost feel the raw power lying beneath his skin.

Your eyes linger longer than they should, and you suddenly find it hard to meet his eyes again. You can’t deny it—his presence is utterly magnetic, and it stirs something deep within you.

Suddenly, you’re violently hit by the fatigue. You didn’t see that coming, but after this amazing night, it’s normal.

Jungkook grabs the clothes on the floor, and you turn around so you don’t stare any longer at him—or should you say drool over him. He looks way too good for his own good. While looking at the wall facing you, you yawn and rub your eyes. You really need to sleep now.

“You’re tired?” Jungkook asks.

“Very,” you answer.

The man appears in front of you, fully dressed with a smile on his face. His cute face contrasts a lot with his very muscular body.

“Let me take you back home,” he says when he realizes just how tired you truly are. And before you even know it, you’re in his arms while he carries you to his mansion.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bloodlines entwined #bloodlines entwined: chapter 4 #spideyjimin

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earthchica · 2 days ago

Text

You Are My Joy

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you and Terry celebrate your son's 1st birthday and go on the journey of watching him grow from toddlerhood to preschool. The talks of another baby cause some tension.

warnings: FLUFF, daddy/mama, dilf! terry, milestones, birthdays, mention of baby talk, time skips, domestic life, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, baby girl & more ] words: 5k

note: hiii, we're back with this story. Please enjoy, but there may be some errors.

sequel to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist chapter one { everything I ever wanted } chapter two { make it right }

It was a bright Saturday afternoon, and the house was excitedly buzzing. Balloons in shades of red and blue floated lazily from the ceiling while a giant Elmo banner proudly declared.

"Happy 1st Birthday, Elijah!" You glanced around the living room, marveling how Terry and you had transformed the space into a mini Sesame Street wonderland.

Terry was in charge of the snacks, and he had pulled out all the stops.

“I got these cookies shaped like Elmo’s face, and trust me, they’re gonna be the show star!” he proclaimed, gesturing dramatically as if announcing the headliner at a concert.

You chuckled; he always knew how to bring the excitement. The doorbell rang, and without missing a beat, Terry darted to answer it.

He swung open the door to reveal his family—his dad and mom, his siblings, and Auntie Marisa, who was already sporting an Elmo t-shirt.

“Hey…family. Y’all ready to Celebrate Elijah?” Terry shouted, his voice booming with infectious enthusiasm.

Auntie Marisa rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile. "Oh….child, it’s a 1-year-old’s birthday party, not a concert!"

“Look at this Elmo cake!” You chimed in, bringing out the showstopper. It was a beautifully decorated cake with Elmo’s big, friendly face on top.

Your mom, who was holding Elijah, the unofficial family baker, beamed with pride. "That's so cute!"

“Ooh honey, that cake looks sweeter than Terry’s dance moves!” Auntie Marisa teased, making everyone burst into laughter.

“Hey now, my dance moves are classic! Just wait until the ‘Baby Shark’ song comes on! I’m about to hit y’all with the moves you didn’t know you needed to see,” Terry shot back, throwing a playful smile at Elijah, who giggled at his daddy.

As the guests settled in, you noticed your mom trying to balance Elijah on her knee.

“Oh, look! Elmo loves little kids just like you!” she exclaimed, pointing toward the TV where an Elmo special was playing.

Elijah’s eyes went wide; he was utterly entranced, babbling in his baby language as the cheerful music filled the room.

“Is it just me, or does he look like Elmo right now?” You joked as he wiggled in my mom’s lap.

Terry leaned in closer, “He does! All we need is a red onesie, and we have an Elmo right here!”

“Let’s not go that far; I’m not ready to be overwhelmed by my son’s cuteness!” You laughed, shaking your head.

As the party continued, it was time for the gifts. Family circled up, and you and Terry started pulling out brightly wrapped presents.

“Let’s see what we got here!” Terry announced, opening the first gift.

“Elmo plushies? I see we’re all feeling the theme!”

Terry's brother said, “At this rate, Elijah's gonna be the coolest kid on the block like he’s the mayor of Sesame Street!”

The laughter flowed endlessly as Terry attempted to reenact Elmo's laugh.

“Ahh, ha ha ha! You gotta give it your all!” Auntie Marisa exclaimed, her laughter filling the room as he clumsily tried to mimic Elmo.

“Can’t forget, 1 year means we gotta show off those baby dance skills! Come on, Elijah!” Terry said, lifting him into the air while doing a little shimmy.

Elijah laughed—whether he knew what was happening or just enjoyed being twirled around, both of you never knew.

The party wrapped up with cake, and everyone gathered for a slice.

“Elijah, this is your special day! Just remember, you gotta share this sugar with your fam!” Your dad said while sneaking a second slice for himself.

“Yeah, and if you’re anything like your dad, you’ll miss out on cake because you can’t stop dancing!” You joked, nudging Terry, who pretended to be offended.

As the sun began to set and the laughter echoed through your house, you couldn’t help but feel incredible gratitude.

Watching both of your families come together, surrounded by love and joy, made Elijah’s first birthday a day to remember—a beautiful celebration fueled by laughter, smiles, and, of course, a lot of Elmo!

Weeks later, the memory of Elijah’s birthday still lingered like the faint scent of vanilla frosting. The days had stretched into a rhythm of baby giggles, diaper changes, and late-night cuddles, but today was different.

Today, something extraordinary was unfolding right before your eyes. You and Terry were lounging on the couch, sipping coffee and discussing the latest episode of a reality TV show you both had reluctantly gotten hooked on.

The room was bathed in soft morning light, and Elijah was sitting on the floor, surrounded by his favorite toys—a mismatched collection of colorful blocks, a squeaky rubber duck, and, of course, his beloved Elmo plushie.

“Babe, did you see how she came for him at the reunion?” Terry said, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Shit, he had it coming though.”

You chuckled, setting your mug down on the coffee table. “Oh, he definitely did. But let’s not act like she didn’t bring her own drama to the table. Chile, everybody in that room was messy.”

Terry grinned, leaning back against the cushions. “True, true. But messiness makes for good TV. I can’t wait for next season.”

Before you could respond, a sudden movement caught your attention.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Elijah wobble to his feet, using the edge of the coffee table as support. His chubby little hands gripped the wood tightly as he steadied himself.

“Oh my God, Terry, look!” you whispered, your voice trembling with excitement.

Terry turned his head, his eyes widening as he saw Elijah standing there, his tiny body swaying like a reed in the breeze. “No way… is he about to—?”

Before Terry could finish, Elijah let go of the table. It seemed like he might topple over for a moment, but then he took a step—a wobbly, uncertain step, but a step nonetheless.

His little face lit up with determination and surprise as he shuffled forward, his arms outstretched for balance.

“Oh my God!” you gasped, clapping your hands together. “He’s walking! He’s walking!”

Terry was on his feet now, crouching down a few feet away from Elijah. “Come on, little man! You got this! Walk to Daddy!”

Elijah giggled, his drool-dampened lips curling into a wide grin as he took another step.

Then another. And another. Each one was shaky like he was navigating a tightrope, but he kept going, his tiny sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor.

“Look at him go!” you said, your voice rising with each step. “Terry, he’s doing it! Look at our baby; he’s really doing it!”

Terry’s face was lit up with pure pride; his hands outstretched as if to catch Elijah if he stumbled and encourage him forward.

“That’s right, lil man! You are a whole walker now! That’s my son!”

Elijah wobbled again, his little legs trembling slightly, but he pressed on, his focus laser-sharp. It was like the whole world had narrowed to this moment—this tiny human taking his first steps into a bigger world.

“Come on, baby boy,” you cooed softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “You got this. Come to Mama.”

Elijah’s face scrunched up in concentration, his chubby cheeks puffing out as he took one more determined step. And then another. And then—he was there, tumbling into Terry’s arms with a squeal of delight.

“Aye! That’s my boy!” Terry whooped, scooping Elijah up and spinning him around in the air. Elijah’s laughter filled the room, pure and unfiltered, like little bells ringing out a victory song.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe it,” you said, wiping at your eyes as you stood up, your heart swelling with pride. “Our baby just walked! Like, for real walked!”

“Man, look at him,” Terry said, putting Elijah down and letting him walk again, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s going to be running before we know it,” Terry said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“We really need to baby-proof the house. And I mean really baby-proof it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, your heart swelling as you watched Elijah take brave little steps toward you. “But right now, let him enjoy this. This is amazing!”

With each tentative step he took, your hearts soared. At that moment, nothing else mattered—just the pure joy of watching your baby discover his world.

Elijah, giggling, managed to stumble forward and grasp your leg for support. You scooped him up, showering him with kisses as Terry joined in, his laughter ringing through the room.

“You did it, Eli! You walked!” Terry said, beaming with pride. “Before we know it, you’ll be running off on adventures of your own. Just promise us you’ll always come back to us, okay?”

“Yes, promise,” you added, your heart full.

Terrible Twos, “Mama! Dada! Wake up!” Elijah chirped, his voice high-pitched and bubbling with a joy that seemed to radiate through the room.

Just turned two years old, he reveled in his newfound independence, a charming phase that primarily involved an exaggerated refusal to wear pants.

His curly afro hair stuck out every which way, and his hazel eyes were lit for the day's excitement ahead.

Terry groaned, cocooned in the sheets, pulling the covers over his head as if they could shield him from the cuteness assault.

“I can’t handle this level of cuteness before coffee,” he mumbled through the fabric, his voice muffled but teasing.

“But he’s too cute to ignore!” you playfully countered, stretching your arms and feeling the residual warmth of the covers slip away as you bounced out of bed like a coiled spring released.

Elijah spotted you and emitted a delighted squeal, arms up as if asking to be picked up.

Watching Terry lumber out of bed, disheveled and squinting against the morning light, you couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“You look like a sexy zombie. Add some sunlight and breakfast, and you might wake up!”

“Ha! Very funny, you know I lose a little melanin in the wintertime, girl,” he retorted, rolling his eyes but grinning as he ruffled Elijah's hair.

Deciding that a family breakfast was required to kickstart your energy-filled day, you entered the kitchen. Elijah was launching a mini treasure hunt, rummaging through cabinets with glee.

“Terry, do you think he’ll sit still long enough to eat?” you joked, pouring a glass of bright orange juice into a sippy cup. With a swift, unexpected move, Elijah flung a cereal box off the table.

“Not a chance,” Terry replied, reflexively catching the cereal box mid-air with one hand, a gesture that almost seemed rehearsed.

“Ever since he started walking, he’s got too much hustle in those little legs. I swear, he’s part rabbit!” you mused, smiling as Elijah bounced around the kitchen.

His infectious smile lit up the room while he tried to keep breakfast from morphing into a chaotic battlefield.

Elijah darted past, squealing, “Mama! Dada! Race me!”

“Oh boy, here we go!” you said excitedly, apprehensive.

“Ready, set, go!” Terry shouted, and just like that, the three of you were caught in an impromptu race that had you all dashing through the kitchen, navigating around furniture, and back to your seats, laughter echoing through the house.

"I won…!" Elijah cackled, throwing his arms up in gleeful triumph, his little face glowing with pride.

“You know he’s gonna be a little athlete,” Terry grinned, already pouring himself a hefty cup of coffee. “Like a mini Usain Bolt!”

“Or a high-speed whirlwind!” you added, shaking your head and smiling as you glanced at Elijah. “But either way, we need to get him to eat something today.”

While Terry distractingly wrestled Elijah into his little chair, you hurriedly prepared a plate of scrambled eggs and colorful fruit.

The calm was short-lived; in an instant, Elijah’s tiny fist shot out with surprising strength, flipping the plate off the table with theatrical flair, and it clattered to the floor.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the spectacle. “Yooo! Who taught you to do that?” you exclaimed, covering your mouth in delight, unable to believe the sheer drama of the moment.

Elijah’s giggles filled the room, his laughter so contagious that it drew chuckles from Terry, who was wiping a tear from his eye.

“Not me! Although that was quite impressive! He got his daddy’s strength,” Terry joked, puffing out his chest in exaggerated pride.

“Okay, daddy’s strength! But who’s gonna clean this mess up?” you shot back, crossing your arms with a playful smirk.

“Looks like it’s all on me, huh?” Terry responded with a mock sigh, grabbing a towel and kneeling to collect the food remnants with exaggerated care, making a show of it for Elijah’s entertainment.

“It’s a good thing I’ve been working on my Olympic cleaning skills,” Terry joked, pretending to lift invisible weights as he gathered the shattered pieces.

“Hey, while you’re down there giving the floor a full spa treatment, I’m gonna try to get this little munchkin to eat something,” you said, turning back to Elijah, who was busy inspecting his dad's cleanup efforts with curious, wide eyes.

“Elijah, baby, how about we eat some food? You’ve got eggs and fruit waiting for you!” you said in your sweetest, motherly tone.

“Nooo!” Elijah declared resolutely, shaking his head with the fervor only a toddler could muster.

You rolled your eyes but felt a smirk creeping onto your face. “What if we make it a game? You know how they say superheroes eat fruit for strength?”

His eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Superheroes?”

“Yep! You wanna be a superhero, right?” you asked encouragingly.

“Uh-huh!” Elijah nodded enthusiastically, clearly intrigued.

“Alright then! Superheroes gotta eat their super fuel!” you held up a bright yellow banana-like magic. “Banana for super strength! And how about some eggs for super speed?”

Terry chuckled as he stood, towel in hand, watching your antics with genuine admiration. “Man, you’re good at this! If only I could distract him like that when it’s my turn to get him to eat.”

“Just wait ‘til I whip out the secret weapon—yogurt!” you declared, your motherly instincts fully engaged. You carefully set another plate in front of Elijah and kept your gaze pinned on him like a hawk, ready for any sign of resistance.

Your tactic proved fruitful; with some coaxing and playful encouragement, you finally got Elijah to eat breakfast. As he took a bite, his eyes widened in wonder, as if he had just discovered a culinary treasure.

“Mmmm!” he exclaimed, savoring the taste.

“Yes, is it good? That’s right! Now, a couple more bites, and then we can explore!” you encouraged, unable to contain your delight as he surprisingly took a bite of the egg.

“Look at you go!” Terry exclaimed, pride swelling in his voice as he flopped back down on a chair beside you. “Our little champ is besting his breakfast like a true athlete!”

“Just wait ‘til he runs circles around the park,” you replied, watching Elijah chew thoughtfully with a slight grin.

“Speaking of the park, are we ready to give this little one a walking tour?”

“Only if you promise to keep up with him. You know he’ll take off like a rocket,” you replied, both of you chuckling as you readied yourselves for what the day had in store.

“Pfft, please! I got him!” Terry scoffed, flexing his arm like he was preparing for some epic showdown. “I’m the king of parenting in this household!”

Elijah finished his breakfast, clapping his hands in triumph. “Yay!!”

With that, the exit was on the horizon. You all bundled up, and the world outside awaited. The sun shone brightly as you stepped outside, and fresh air welcomed you like an old friend.

“Come on, buddy! Let’s show the world who the real champion is!” Terry called as Elijah took off, running down the driveway without a glance back.

“Wait up, Speed Racer!” You laughed, but you loved watching him explore. Elijah darted towards the park, his little legs pumping with pure joy.

As you reached the park, Terry caught up to him, hoisting him into his arms.

“Okay, champ! What’s our plan? Do we play tag, chase squirrels, or climb to the top of Mount Mama and Dada?”

Elijah squealed, wiggling in excitement. “TAG!”

“Alright then, you can’t catch me!” Terry shouted, leading the charge more profoundly into the park.

You shook your head, grinning at the sight of your two favorite people tearing through the grass, laughter trailing behind them. It was a morning full of chaos, laughter, and more love than you ever asked for.

Fast-forward to the afternoon, and we were knee-deep in the glorious jumble of diaper-changing time. Elijah had developed a habit of wiggling like a fish during this process.

“Alright, little man, let's get you sorted out!” you said, trying to hold him still.

“No diaper! Noooooo!” Elijah squealed, laughter echoing off the walls.

“See? This is why we can’t have nice things,” Terry joked, trying to wrangle Elijah’s squirming limbs. You both exchanged a glance, a mix of exasperation and delight.

“We can get it done; just follow me!” you said, and you broke into a silly song about changing diapers, which made Elijah giggle uncontrollably.

“Just when I thought parenting couldn’t get any more…interesting, we need to potty training him,” Terry quipped.

After the successful change, Terry stood up and looked at the clock.

“Alright, little one, time for your beauty sleep. Or should I say beauty naps? Your cuteness needs to get recharged,” he said, lifting Elijah into his arms.

“Good luck getting him down! I’ve got faith in you,” you called after him, watching as Terry gently rocked him back and forth, whispers of “time to sleep, my little athlete” pouring from his lips.

Once the door closed behind them, you sank onto the couch, feeling a wave of relaxation wash over you. You grabbed the remote, flicked on your favorite show, and let the noise wash over you like a warm blanket.

Not long after, Terry returned, catching you in blissful tranquility. He leaned against the doorframe with a teasing grin, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Look at you, lounging like a goddess. Did I mention how beautiful you look today?”

“Oh really? I’m just in sweats and an old tee?” you shot back with a smirk, stretching your arms above your head.

“Baby, please! You could be in a potato sack, and you’d still be finest as hell in the room,” Terry replied, walking over and plopping down onto the couch beside you.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You keep talking like that, and I might just believe you!”

Terry leaned in a little closer, a playful glint in his eye. “I’m dead serious. You light up my whole day, even when I'm half asleep.”

“Okay, okay, Mr. Richmond,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “What’s on your agenda? Trying to get some kitty while our son's napping?”

“Maybe, never stopped us before,” he said, walking over to you. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “But first, how about we take advantage of this rare silence? I’ve got a few ideas.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Oh? Do tell.”

Before you could react, Terry’s hands were on your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You burst into laughter, squirming to escape his grasp.

“Terry! Stop!” you gasped between giggles, trying to push him away, but he was relentless.

“Nope! You’re mine now!” he declared, his laughter mingling with yours. The two of you tumbled off the couch in a heap, still laughing uncontrollably.

Finally, he relented, collapsing onto the floor beside you, breathless and grinning like an idiot.

“You’re terrible,” you said, swatting his arm lightly. “What if Elijah had woken up?”

“He’s out cold,” Terry replied confidently. “Besides, I needed to remind you who the fun parent is here.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the fun one. But I’m the one who negotiates for him to eat his breakfast,” you shot back, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Terry laughed, shaking his head. "True, You're mama bear, I’ll give you that.” He stretched out on the floor, his arm brushing against yours.

“And you’re amazing. I don’t know how you do it.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through you at his words. “We do it. Together. Team Richmond, remember?”

“Team Richmond,” he echoed, his voice soft. He turned his head to look at you, his expression serious momentarily.

“I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. I love you, baby, so much.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat but swallowed it, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Me neither, Terry. I love you too.”

For a moment, you just lay there, the silence between you comfortable and familiar. Then, Terry’s mischievous grin returned.

“Alright, let’s see if we can take a quick nap before the little man wakes up.”

You chuckled, letting him pull you to your feet. “Go ahead; I’m gonna catch up on my favorite show.”

Terry smirked, grabbed a blanket, and came to lay his head in your lap. "Suit yourself," he teased with a smile before getting comfortable and closing his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as you began caressing his hair. "Yeah, yeah, enjoy your nap."

As Terry’s breathing evened out, you turned your attention back to the TV, though your mind kept wandering.

At this moment, you wouldn’t trade for anything. The laughter, the chaos, and the love all felt like the perfect little life you’d built together.

Preschooler, Before you and Terry knew it, Elijah was five years old and about to start preschool. Where did the time go? One minute, you and Terry were chasing him around to make him eat his breakfast, and he grew since then.

“Okay, what if he doesn’t make any friends? This is a huge deal!” You fretted, stuffing crayons into the bag.

“Sweetheart, he’s a sweet kid. I think he'll do fine!” Terry reassured, peeking at Elijah.

“Yeah, but what if he gets overwhelmed? Or worse, what if he gets bullied?” You asked, imagining the possibilities.

Terry chuckled, “I’m not worried about him being bullied or anything like that. We've taught him how to defend himself.”

"Look, Mama, Look, Daddy!" Nerves fading, both of you turned back to him, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that the two of you had a little superhero astronaut in your hands.

Elijah was trying to turn the living room into his spaceship. The cushions were scattered everywhere, and he was wearing a cardboard box on his head.

"I’m takin’ off!" Elijah shouted arms stretched wide, running at full speed towards the wall.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Eli, be careful. I don't want you to crash into the wall! No time to patch up no spaceship!"

Terry chuckled, adding, "If he’s anything like you, he isn't ever flyin’ straight. Need a pilot’s license to get in that box!"

"Ha! Look who's talkin’! You were the one who thought you could parallel park that big ole SUV in a tiny spot last week!"

"Hey, I got that baby in there; it just took a couple of tries!" Terry replied with a laugh, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"But back to Eli," you said as Elijah started reenacting what looked like a dramatic countdown. "We need to get him ready for preschool. How do you feel about all this, babe?"

Terry sighed, “I’m excited but low-key sad. Our baby boy ain’t no baby no more.”

“Tell me about it! Next thing you know, you blink, he's in college, and he gonna be off dating and all that!”

Terry put on his best dramatic voice, “I can already see him comin’ home talkin’ ‘bout, ‘Mama, I met this girl…’”

“Wait, what? Nah, don’t even play like that ‘fore I gotta put him in bubble wrap!” You joked, rolling your eyes.

Elijah’s spaceship—ahem, box—finally reached its destination against the couch, and he let out a triumphant “We landed on Mars!” before collapsing into giggles.

You and Terry exchanged a look, both of you thinking the same thing: this kid would run y’all ragged, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Alright, Captain Eli,” you said, scooping and spinning him around. “Time to fuel up the spaceship crew. What’s for dinner?”

“Chicken nuggets!” Elijah shouted as if it were the most obvious answer in the universe.

Terry smirked, “Chicken nuggets? Again? Eli, you gonna turn into a nugget at this rate.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” Elijah asked innocently, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Nothin’, baby,” you said, caressing his fade waves. “But how about we mix it up tonight? Maybe some regular chicken nuggets and some mac and cheese to go with it?”

Elijah considered this for a moment, then nodded solemnly. “Okay, Mommy, but only if it’s the kind with the squiggly noodles.”

“Squiggly noodles it is,” Terry said, heading toward the kitchen. You followed Terry into the kitchen, still carrying Elijah like your little koala bear.

"Alright, team," you announced, setting him down on the counter.

"Let’s get this dinner movin’. Eli, you’re on cheese duty. Terry, you handle the noodles. And I’ll season the chicken nuggets so they don’t taste like they came straight outta the freezer."

Elijah clapped his hands excitedly. "I’m gonna make the cheesiest mac and cheese ever! It’s gonna be so cheesy, it’s gonna need a passport to cross state lines!"

Terry burst out laughing. "Where he get that from? That ain’t my genes!"

"Please," you shot back, grabbing the seasoning shaker. "You, the one who said the spaghetti last week was so saucy, it needed a chaperone. Y’all two got jokes for days."

As you all worked together in the kitchen, the banter kept flowing. Terry started doing his best cooking show host impression, holding a wooden spoon like a microphone.

"And here we have Chef Elijah, master of the cheese shredder—do not underestimate his power! Watch closely as he transforms this block of cheddar into a cloud of deliciousness!"

Elijah giggled uncontrollably, holding the cheese grater like a prized artifact.

“And now, for the grand finale!” he announced, dramatically sprinkling cheese over the pot of noodles like he was casting a magic spell.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched them. “Y’all better not be messin’ up my kitchen,” you warned, though your grin gave you away.

“I swear if I find cheese in places it ain’t supposed to be…”

“Cheese is supposed to be everywhere!” Elijah declared, still giggling.

“It’s the law of the universe!”

“The law of the universe, huh?” Terry said, raising an eyebrow. “Well, when you grow up and become president, you can make that official.”

Dinner was ready, and you sat at the table, digging into your feast. Elijah insisted on narrating every bite of his chicken nuggets like a food critic.

“Hmm, this one has a crispy exterior with a tender interior—10 out of 10! And this mac and cheese? A symphony of squiggles and cheese—perfection!” Elijah giggled.

“You watchin’ too much Food Network,” Terry teased, shaking his head.

After dinner, you all settled on the couch for movie night. Elijah was practically bouncing with excitement as you scrolled through the options.

“Ooh, what about this one?” Elijah said, pointing to a colorful animated movie about a talking dog. “He looks funny!”

“Alright, funny dog it is,” you agreed, hitting play and leaning back on the couch. Terry grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it over all three of you, creating a cozy family cocoon.

Halfway through the movie, Elijah’s giggles slowed down, and his head drooped. When the dog in the movie had his big hero moment, Elijah was utterly out, snoring softly like a little bear cub.

You glanced over at Terry and nodded toward Elijah. “Guess somebody’s had enough fun for one night.”

Terry chuckled softly. “Man, he fought sleep hard tonight.”

“He always does,” you whispered back, carefully sliding out from under the blanket so you wouldn’t wake him. “I’ll get him ready for bed.”

But just as you reached over to pick him up, Elijah stirred slightly and mumbled, “No… I want Daddy to do it.”

You froze for a second, then smiled. “Alright, baby. Daddy’s got you.”

Terry’s face lit up like he won the lottery. He scooped Elijah up gently, cradling him like the most precious treasure in the world.

“Alright, little man, let’s get you to bed,” Terry whispered, his voice soft as a lullaby.

As they headed down the hallway, Elijah mumbled sleepily, “Daddy, can I have a baby sister or brother? I want someone to play with.”

Terry’s steps faltered momentarily, his heart doing a little flip-flop in his chest. He glanced down at Elijah’s sleepy face, those big hazel eyes barely open but still filled with hope.

“You wanna play with a baby?” Terry asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Yeah,” Elijah murmured, his head resting against Terry’s shoulder.

“I’d teach ‘em how to shred cheese and everything.”

Terry laughed softly, his chest vibrating against Elijah’s tiny body.

“Sounds like you got it all figured out, huh?”

“Mhm,” Elijah replied, already drifting back to sleep. The little boy was out cold again when Terry reached Elijah's room. Terry laid him down gently on the bed and pulled the covers to his chin.

Terry sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, watching Elijah’s chest rise and fall in the soft rhythm of sleep. The stuffed dinosaur Elijah insisted on sleeping with every night was tucked under his arm.

He caressed Elijah’s forehead, his heart feeling so full it might burst. “Man, what am I gonna do with you?” Terry whispered to himself, shaking his head with a smile.

Terry stood quietly and turned off the bedside lamp, leaving the room bathed in the moon's soft glow through the window. Back in the living room, you were tidying up the remnants of movie night.

Popcorn kernels scattered on the couch, Elijah’s juice tipped over on the coffee table, and the blanket in a crumpled heap on the floor.

You were humming softly to yourself when Terry walked back in.

“He’s out cold,” Terry said, plopping down on the couch beside you.

“Knocked out.” He added, and you laughed, handing him a pretzel you’d just found under the cushion.

“Here, snack for your troubles.” you joked, and Terry took it with a mock bow.

“Much obliged.” He leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling momentarily before turning to you.

“So….,” Terry started, scratching the back of his neck like he always did when he was about to say something that made him nervous.

“Elijah hit me with a little somethin’ on the way to bed.”

You raised an eyebrow, tossing another pretzel into your mouth. “Oh yeah? What’d he say this time? He wanna be an astronaut, superhero chef who only cooks mac and cheese in zero gravity?”

Terry chuckled but shook his head. “Nah, nah. It was… different this time.” He paused, biting his lip like he was trying to figure out how to phrase it.

“He asked if he could have a baby sister or brother.”

You froze mid-reach for another pretzel, your hand hovering over the bowl. “Wait, what?”

Terry nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and mild panic.

“Yeah. Said he wanted someone to play with. Even said he’d teach ‘em how to shred cheese.”

You burst out laughing, nearly knocking the bowl off the coffee table. “Shred cheese? That’s his selling point? That’s what he led with?”

Terry shrugged, grinning despite himself. “Hey, don’t knock it. The boy’s got vision.”

You leaned back against the couch, shaking your head with a smile, though your heart was doing somersaults.

“Another baby, huh?” you said softly, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers written on it. “That’s… a big ask.”

Terry nodded, his grin fading into something more thoughtful.

“Yeah, it is. But… I mean, he’s not wrong. It’d be nice for him to have someone to grow up with. Someone to share all his cheese-related wisdom with.”

You snorted, elbowing him lightly. “You’re really leaning into this cheese thing, huh?”

“Hey, it’s a cornerstone of our family culture,” Terry replied, mock-serious. “But seriously… what do you think?”

You sighed, tucking your legs under you and turning to face him.

“I don’t know, Terry. It’s not like we haven’t talked about it before. We always said maybe someday, but… is someday now? Are we ready for another baby?”

Terry reached over and took your hand, his thumb tracing circles on the back of it.

“We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?” he said, his voice soft but steady.

“Elijah wasn’t exactly planned, and look at him. He’s the best thing that ever happened to us.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “True. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard....it still is but Late nights, diaper changes, the endless questions about why the sky is blue… Can we do it all over again?”

Terry leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours. “We can. Together. And this time, we’d have Elijah to help. He’d be the best big brother. Plus, he’s already got the cheese-shredding tutorial ready to go.”

You laughed, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. “Oh my goodness...you really won’t let that go, will you?”

“Never,” Terry said with a grin. “But seriously… I think we could do it. I think we should at least talk about it. Not because Elijah asked, but because… maybe it’s what we want too.”

You sat there for a moment, letting his words sink in. The idea of another baby—a tiny person who would look like Terry, you, or even Elijah—was thrilling and terrifying.

“Can I have a few days to think about it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I need to wrap my head around it.”

“Of course, baby” Terry said, squeezing your hand again. “Take all the time you need. It’s not like we’re deciding tonight. Just… think about it, yeah?”

You nodded, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. The two of you sat there in comfortable silence. The minutes stretched on, and eventually, Terry let out a long yawn.

“Alright,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms over his head.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

You chuckled, standing up and gathering the last stray popcorn into your hand. “Yeah, and you know he’s going to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

Terry groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “Why do kids have so much energy? Like, where does it come from?”

“The cheese,” you joked, tossing the popcorn into the trash. “It’s the secret fuel.”

Terry laughed, shaking his head. “You’re probably right. Alright, let’s go.” The two of you made your way to the bedroom.

The house was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards. As you climbed into bed, Terry turned to you, his expression soft in the dim light.

“Whatever we decide,” he said, his voice low and steady, “we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

You smiled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “Yeah, we do. Goodnight, Terry.”

“Goodnight, baby,” Terry replied, his voice heavy with sleep. He turned off the lamp on his nightstand, plunging the room into darkness.

You lay there for a moment, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, your mind still swirling with thoughts of another baby.

TAGS

@saturnville @kisssssssssssss @grlsbstshot @nayaesworld @onherereading @blyffe @duhitzkay380

@milktert @sefiya0x @urgirlygoddess @honeytoffee @cocooned-butterfly

@vivaalenaa @m1sk1n3 @blackpinup22 @writingsbytee

@peachbuttetfly @ayeeeitsmiracle @fakxmbj

#Terry Richmond x Black Reader #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond fic #terry richmond fanfiction #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond #terry richmond x black fem reader #black!fem!reader #black fem reader #terry richmond x black! fem plus size reader #terry Richmond x plus size reader #terry richmond x fem reader #terry richmond fluff #rebel ridge #terry richmond angst

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kyunniebuns · 1 day ago

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˗ˏˋ Entry : 059 - Lover! HSR Men x Fem! Reader: Period Cramps ♡ ˎˊ˗

꒰ Dan Heng, Aventurine, Caelus, Sunday ꒱

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Dan Heng is actually a veteran in taking care of girls during their periods. Why? You have March 7th to thanks for that. His poor friend's cramps are hell so he stepped up to assist whenever he can if Himeko isn' present to soothe her.

So when it comes to you? It's no problem really, he even enjoys the fact that you're relying on him for this since it shows that you trust him entirely.

Does he track your period schedule? Definitely, he has a tracker installed in his phone that he always checks. Periods are tricky and he wants to know incase anything wrong comes your way.

A little overdevoted of him, but you're not complaining. Why would you?

He has everything prepared a week advanced before your period.

Heating pads? Check. Extra napkins? Check. Snacks? Check. Chocolates? Check. Medicine for cramps? Check. Plushies? Washed and ready.

"Is your stomach acting up? No?" Dan Heng asks as he secures the blanket over you after placing a heating pad on your belly.

"I hate being a girl..." You complain, curling up further beside him for comfort.

"I know, but just for a few more days, it'll be alright" He says, stroking your head lovingly. "How about a movie? There are a bunch of new movies I managed to download."

"Okay..."

You actually passed out halfways into the movie, which Dan heng of course predicted already since he had the lights in his room already turned off. He changed the heating pad on your stomach first before tucking himself back in.

"Goodnight," Dan heng mumbles, placing a peck on your forehead before pulling you in for a cuddle.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"There we go" Aventurine gently settles you down on the bed after placing an extra towel on it. "Is that better, love?"

You nod, cuddling the teddy bear he bought you just because you're on your monthly hell.

Your period week is strictly a no-gambling and no-business-trips time for Aventurine. Even if his bosses and the other stonehearts decide to bug him into doing stuff.

He values your happiness and comfort above all else, even work. So to hell with them if the ipc blows up out of nowhere during your menstruation. Aventurine will just throw a middle finger at them and laugh at their misery.

Aventurine was so dedicated he spent hours reading books about periods and even goes so far to research good napkin brands that wont make you itch.

He wants nothing more than the highest of qualities for his beloved who is going through a lot just because a woman's body decided to evolve suffering like this. he even has some doctors on stand by just incase anything goes wrong.

Of course, we can't forget his philanthropic side— this peacock man needs to spend his money on you even for the littlest things. You'll be having brand new jewelry, cosmetics and perfumes coming in rapid succession for you as well as a barrage of kisses to go along with it.

"My poor princess, are you sure you don't need anything else?" He asks, kissing each and every one of your fingers. "Should I order some shortcakes for you? Or should I call the doctor to check on you?"

"Vasha... I'm not bedridden..." You say.

"I know, but I would rather not risk anything happening bad, so if anything hurts too much you must tell me" Aventurine simply smiles.

"Your kisses are more than enough"

"Who am I to say no to that?"

And with that, he dives in to pepper your precious and pretty face with pecks.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕤 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Okay, everything is settled" Caelus nods to himself after making a makeshift pillow fort in his bed for you to snuggle in.

The plushies he had ordered just arrived in time with your menstrual cycle. He made sure to ask March 7th about this just to be sure too. He can't screw this up—

Yeah, he's acting like he's about to go through something major or something. What an idiot.

Your lovable idiot atleast.

"Cae? I'm back" You say, walking out of the bathroom after changing your napkin. "???"

"Ah... Well" Your boyfriend sheepishly scrtaches the back of his head as you glance at the makeshift fort he managed to make during your time in the bathroom. "I figured I should make a fort so we could snuggle up more?... I don't know"

"You're cute" You laugh, kissing his cheek before crawling into the fort he made. "I like the fort, maybe you should keep it"

"I'll order more pillows and a canopy for my bed then" He grins before going in after you. "I'm not really good at taking care of you, my bad"

"It's fine, just you being with me is more than enough and I'd much rather cuddle with you" You wrap your arms affectionately around his waist. "Just be you as usual, that's more than enough."

"I should be the one comforting you" Caelus pouts, rubbing your cheeks together just so he can elicit a sweet giggle from your lips. "If there is is anything I can do, please just tell me what you need and I'll do my best"

"You're really like a puppy" You muse, kissing his cheek lovingly.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Just like Dan Heng, Sunday is a veteran at this. His mother died before his sister had her very first menstrual cycle. And although there were servants around to assist— he still took the initiative to help Robin himself because he was her brother.

The result of that? He's absolutely good at taking care of you during your period. Much like Dan Heng, he has a period tracker on his phone and prepares everything in advance the week before your period starts.

But of course, Sunday actually memorized your cycle dates, he just prefers to be more organized and to fouble(triple) check everything

It's much more important for him to be assured that eveything is ready.

"Not like that, you'll make your stomach hurt even more, dear" Sunday says, putting down the book he was reading and reaches out to rub firm but gentle circles around your tummy. "I know it's different for each woman, but this is the method I used on my sister when her cramps are bad. Is that better?"

"Yes..." You nod weakly, melting into his massages quickly. "You're really good at this"

"it's only because I took care of my baby sister a lot" Sunday replies, keeping his gentle pace to help ease your pain.

"Robin must miss you" You mumble.

"It's alright" He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "I miss her too, but one day we will reunite. But right now you're the main character. You need me since your cramps as especially bad during the first few days of your cycle."

"What did I even do to deserve you?" You whisper, slowly drifting off to sleep the further he massaged you.

Sunday wouldn't reply until you finally gave in to the call of sleep.

"I need you more than you need me" He finally says, replying to your unconcious state while pressing his lips on your forehead. "So let me do this, it's the least I can do since you never gave up on me"

꒰ 🪼 A/N: This one is a bad fic but I'm really deep in writer's block. I'll try to get it in my next one. For now please be patient with me qwq. I hope you guys understand huhu. I'll try to make more comprehensive and better fics:3 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

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404creep · 3 days ago

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Here's another little installment for my Simon x Civilian Cleaning Lady series. I'm trying to leave some of the REALLY good ideas for one shots, but sometimes I just gotta get the ideas in my head OUT through these drabbles!!!! I'll try and finish up the one shot I'm working on this weekend and post it by Monday! (Spolier alert, it's about the time you learn Ghost's real name 👀)

Previous Next Series Masterlist

The first time Simon truly interacts with your nephew happens roughly three weeks after you both begin having real conversations (you know.....rather than him just lurking like Michael Myers, silently observing you from behind a wall down the hallway)

Simon came for his daily visit later than he usually does on this particular day. Bro was swamped with work so you'd already clocked out when he came looking for you.

He was honestly scared he'd miss you. But he figured you'd have to get the kid before you left so he tried the daycare.

He just hung around outside the daycare until you exited holding the small 4 year old.

You honestly didn't expect to see Ghost there. It did scare you a bit ngl.

Y'all kinda do a stare down for a bit before you shoot him a smile that makes his tummy flutter

You introduce him to your nephew and he's just kinda awkwardly standing there looking at the kid like "idk wtf to do"

Bro does not know how to interact with toddlers and you can't change my mind on this.

Your nephew is kinda just burying his head into your neck and mean mugging Ghost

Honestly ghost is sweating a bit cause the kid is a little intimidating ngl

kid's been through a lot

You tell him to wave to the nice uncle army man

The kid does a half hearted little finger wave and then turns his head completely to face the other way so he doesn't have to look at at the masked army man

Ghost is honestly sweating cause how is he gonna marry you if your nephew hates him? Who will be the ring bearer????

Simon had it all planned out

NOOOOO! NOT HIS ELABRATE WEDDING PLANS

He'll survive

Anyway he figured that the way to any man's heart is through his stomach so he decides to sacrifice one of his snacks on you for the kid. Simon ALWAYS has snacks for you hidden in one of his pockets.

Decides to use YOUR daily treat for the kid as a bribe.

Kinda digs a package of gummies out of his pocket and then shakes them a bit "He old enough for this?" is all he asks. Doesn't wanna hop the kid up on sugar without your permission.

You see it for what it is, a bribe to make the kid like him.

and honestly you find it kinda sweet that he's trying

so you say yeah

he kinda taps the kid's arm with the package and the kid turns his head back to look

cue less mean mugging and very focused eyes on said package of candy.

Ghost can't help but crack a little smile under his mask

kid is cute, there's no denying it. Looks a bit like you.

He rips the package open and offers it to the kid.

The kid reaches in with his little fingers and grabs a few and then promptly shoves them into his mouth, still basically hiding in your neck.

Pretty sure the kid also eats a bit of your hair because you feel a bit of a pull so you can't help but wince at the pain. Kids are gross sometimes.

You tell Simon you guys gotta go because you need to get home and cook dinner

simon nods and follows you out to your car and watches you buckle the kid into his carseat

He's mentally taking notes in case he ever has to do it on his own

Tells you to be safe and that he'll see you tomorrow and gives you the rest of the candy for the kid later. He'll have more for you tomorrow anyway.

Watches you drive out of the parking lot and doesn't go back inside until he can't see the car anymore

One day you guys will be going home together :)

It takes your nephew a while to warm up to him (Oneshot about this cooking as we speak)

Your nephew may or may not immediately love Johnny.......Simon is jealous of this fact.

#ghost #fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty imagine #simon x cleaning lady #cleaning lady #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley drabble

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auraisereigh · 3 days ago

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"For Her, Always"

oneshot

Garrick Tavis x Riorson reader Request: Garrick x riorson little sister (she is a 2 year with Bohdi they are bff) they fell in love when they were little and now she is a rider but they hide what they feel to not upset Xaden, but the some guy flirts with her and we get MAD JELOUS Garrick and he hurts the guy on challenges, Xaden notices and they have a talk so then reader and Garrick can be together (Love confession Bridgerton style) wc: 6.8 ☆ no specific spoilers. Uses pronouns: she/her.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

If there was one thing about Garrick Travis then it was that he was attractive, always had been- even when he was younger. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel something for him. And maybe, just maybe, I would have said something by now if it wasn't for the fact that he's best friends with my brother.

Xaden.

He has enough on his mind. Adding to that is the last thing on my mind. Even if that means I'll have to keep my feelings to myself. Even if that means my heart will keep yearning for what I can't have. At least I can still stare at him. From a distance, in the practice room. It's better than nothing I suppose.

"You're staring." Bodhi muzes next to me. I shoot a small glare his way as I continue to wrap my hands for sparring. "Am not." I respond tense.

Second year is more difficult and stressfull than it seemed. RSC hanging over my head. Xaden has done his part in preparing me but that didn't make it less terrifying and seeing as it's unpredictable when leadership would come and get us, well, that just makes it worse.

Not that I have seen a lot of Xaden lately, he's been occupied with a certain Sorrengail.

That thought brings me back to where I am. Xaden is training the youngest Sorrengail on one of the mats in the corners, Garrick not far away from them as he practices with his sword.

And I'd hate to admit it but I am staring.

After I finish wrapping my hands I stand and pick up my daggers. They had always been my preferred weapon. Light but easy to use.

I go through my usual warm up routine. Swinging them around. It's all going smoothly until I hear a voice call out. "Looking good, beautiful."

I glance toward the voice, only to find Oren—the overconfident third-year with a cocky grin plastered on his face—walking toward me. He’s twirling his sword as if to show off, his steps relaxed.

“Your technique’s good, but I think you’re missing something,” he says, a smirk on his face.

I raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “And what would that be?” He shrugs, a look of mischief appears in his eyes. “A partner. You know, someone to make things more… interesting.” He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe someone who can keep up with you.”

I roll my eyes and focus back on my daggers, spinning one lazily between my fingers. “I’m perfectly fine. Thanks though.” I reply sarcastic, focusing back on my daggers. In the corner of my eye i catch Garrick's gaze.

But Oren doesn’t back down. “Come on, beautiful. You’ve got moves, but I bet I could teach you a thing or two. Maybe over a Meal?” His grin widens. I shake off the shiver that runs through my spine. An uncomfortable look on my face.

"Back off Oren." Bodhi's voice cuts through the tension. "She's already got someone to spar with." Bodhi's voice is on the cold side, almost as sharp as my brother Xaden's.

I give Bodhi a grateful smile as Oren retreats a step, his hands up in surrender. The smirk on his face is still present and I can tell he's not finished. For now maybe. But not forever.

♤

I stand by the surrounding crowd. All our eyes are on the mat, at the fight that is happening. It's a good match-- the matches before this one were a little meh but this one is actually good, we might be onto something.

The match ends after the second year taps out. From the corner of my eye I can see Garrick talking to Emmeterio. Why would he talk to him?

"Next match. Seifert and Travis." Emmeterio announces and my heart jumpes in my throat. That can't be a coincidence can it? Garrick against Oren not even a day after the small incident in the sparring room.

I can feel Xaden's eyes on me but I don't turn to face him. My eyes are solely on Garrick as he takes his place on the mat. His face holds the sole emotion of anger.

Oren charges first but Garrick side steps him, around his attack. Oren tries again but Garrick takes a hold of his arm, twisting it and Oren let's out a groan.

I can see Garrick say something to Oren but it's too quiet for me to hear. Garrick starts twisting his arm at an unnatural angle. He puts his leg between Oren's and he falls backwards on the mat. I knew Garrick was a good fighter but he's really good.

Garrick easily straddles Oren, a dagger at his throat and I wouldn't wish the look upon Garricks face to anyone. Not even my worst enemy.

He moves his dagger slightly, enough to draw blood but not enough to seriously injure him. I hold my breath at the sight. There is no way Garrick would actually kill him right?

He presses the blad harder against Oren's neck. I hear the familiar tap against the mat, he taps out. I let out the breath I'd been holding, Garrick slowly gets off him. He takes a step backwards, his dagger still in his hand.

I also take a step back, most people in this room night not know what this means but some do. I can feel bodhi's and Xaden's eyes in my back, burning holes.

I can see Xaden follow Garrick out of the sparring room and I don't hesitate to follow. I follow them quietly until they stop in a dark alley.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Xaden snaps at Garrick. His voice full of authority. I stay hidden behind the wall.

"He was flirting with her last night." I hear Garrick argue, frustration laced in his tone. "I'm aware of that. I saw it to but she can defend herself." Xaden voice grows bored.

"You're telling me you don't care that an asshole was flirting with your sister?" The frustration in his voice grows harsher.

“Of course I care,” Xaden snaps. “But I trust her to handle it. You, however, handled it as though you were issuing a challenge. That’s not protecting her—it’s claiming her.”

Garrick falls silent for a moment, his heavy breathing the only sound in the alley. “Maybe I am,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight I’ve never heard before. My breath catches in my throat.

“You don’t get to do that unless you’re willing to back it up,” Xaden warns, his tone razor-sharp. “You don’t get to make her your responsibility unless she’s choosing you. So tell me, Garrick, what exactly are your intentions?”

There’s a long pause before Garrick speaks, but when he does, his voice is steady. “My intentions are to love her. To protect her. To be the one she can turn to for the rest of her life. If that’s claiming her, so be it. I’ve loved her for longer than I care to admit, and I’m done hiding it.”

I press my hand to my mouth, trying to contain the gasp that threatens to escape. Did he just say…?

“And what about her?” Xaden challenges. “Have you even thought about what she wants? Or is this just about you?”

“It’s about her,” Garrick snaps back. “It’s always been about her.” “Then maybe you should say something to her instead of throwing daggers at every man who looks her way,” Xaden retorts. “Because this whole display? It’s not going to win her over. Talk to her. And for both your sakes, stop making me the middleman.”

I hear footsteps retreating, the sound of Xaden walking away. My heart pounds as I realize I’m now alone with Garrick, hidden just around the corner.

I take a shaky breath, stepping out of the shadows. “You could’ve just asked me,” I say softly.

Garrick whirls around, his eyes wide with shock. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” I admit, stepping closer. “Is it true? What you said?”

He looks away, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter—” “It does matter,” I cut him off, my voice trembling. “Because I’ve spent so long trying to convince myself that what I feel for you is one-sided. That you could never see me as anything more than Xaden’s little sister. And now you’re telling me that you… that you’ve felt the same way?”

His gaze snaps to mine, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief. “You… you feel the same?”

I nod, my chest tightening as the words spill out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Garrick. But I thought you’d never… I thought it wasn’t possible.”

He takes a step toward me, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. “You have no idea how hard it’s been, keeping my distance. Watching you with Oren last night, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“And today?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “On the mat?” “I wanted him to know,” he admits, his thumb brushing against my skin. “That you’re not just some girl to flirt with. That you’re… everything to me.”

I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes as I lean into his touch. “Then stop keeping your distance,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s both fierce and tender, years of longing and unspoken words pouring into that one moment. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, and for the first time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re my everything,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

I smile, my heart lighter than it’s ever been. “You’ve already done enough,” I whisper. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you try.”

♤

#garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis #fourth wing #iron flame #onyx storm #the empyrean #xaden riorson #bodhi durran #xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader

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hancorys · 2 days ago

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k.wh — small girl fantasy

genre: fluff, co-worker to lovers hehe, reader have a BIG FAT crush on unagi (who doesn’t) mutual pining, self-indulged pairing: crush!woonhak x afab!reader wc: 3176 warning: they both have responsibility crisis, both NUMBBB, lmk if i forgot any !! listen: small girl — lee youngji ft. do, binibini — zack tabudlo, take a chance with me — niki, aya — earl agustin

the soft hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet store, the flickering fluorescent lights above casting a dull glow over the aisles. your shift was dragging, and with barely any customers coming in, you found yourself wiping the already spotless counter just to keep your hands busy.

the air smelled faintly of instant ramen and cheap coffee, the scent clinging to your uniform as you absentmindedly ran the rag over the counter for the third time. your thoughts drifted—mostly to woonhak, as they often did during these long, uneventful shifts.

woonhak was at the back of the store, stacking boxes near the stockroom. from where you stood, you could see the way his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms as he effortlessly lifted each box like it weighed nothing. he made it look easy, just like he made everything look easy.

you bit the inside of your cheek, annoyed at yourself for staring. it wasn’t like he was going to notice anyway. he never did.

at first, you tried convincing yourself that he was just quiet, that maybe he was the type of person who kept his distance from coworkers. but that theory crumbled quickly when you watched him chat effortlessly with customers, throwing in the occasional charming smile or polite nod. even when his friends dropped by, he greeted them with a grin, his usual composed expression softening into something warmer.

but with you? nothing.

sure, he said hi when your shifts overlapped. he’d ask you to stock shelves if he was busy handling the register. but that was the extent of it. no small talk. no casual conversations about school or life outside the store. just simple, impersonal exchanges that made you feel more like background noise than an actual person.

it was frustrating, really. and the worst part? you still couldn’t stop thinking about him.

you sighed, leaning against the counter, when a voice suddenly cut through the silence.

“you missed a spot.”

you jolted, your grip on the rag tightening as you turned to see woonhak standing beside you, peering down at the counter with his usual unreadable expression.

you blinked, your brain short-circuiting for a second. “what?”

woonhak pointed to a barely visible smudge near the register, his tone as casual as ever. “right there.”

you quickly wiped over it, heat creeping up your neck. of course, the first real thing he says to you all shift has to be about cleaning. not school, not work, not even some throwaway comment about the weather—just that.

when you looked up again, he was already walking away, disappearing into the stockroom like the moment hadn’t even happened.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, staring after him in disbelief.

was he really that oblivious? or was he doing this on purpose?

either way, it was driving you insane.

the more time you spent working at the store, the more you started noticing the little things about woonhak. not the obvious things—like the way customers always gravitated toward him or how effortlessly he balanced school and work—but the smaller details, the ones you weren’t sure anyone else even paid attention to.

for instance, the way he hummed under his breath when he thought no one was listening. it was always something soft, barely audible over the hum of the refrigerators. sometimes, it was an old song playing faintly through the store’s speakers; other times, it was just a melody with no real pattern. you caught yourself lingering near the aisles whenever it happened, pretending to fix the same row of snacks just to hear it a little longer.

he also had this habit of organizing snacks by color. at first, you thought it was just him being efficient, but then you realized he did it even when it wasn’t necessary. the chips, the candies, even the energy drinks—if he was stocking the shelves, they always ended up arranged in a neat, color-coordinated gradient.

“you know, no one really cares if the ramen cups go from red to yellow,” you teased one evening, watching as he rearranged a row of instant noodles.

woonhak didn’t even look up. “yeah, but it looks better like this.”

you tilted your head, studying his expression. he wasn’t doing it for the customers. he wasn’t even doing it because his dad expected the shelves to look nice. he just liked things a certain way. it was oddly endearing.

but the thing that really got to you? the way he sometimes looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

it started small. you’d glance up from the register and catch his eyes flickering away too quickly. or you’d be restocking the shelves and feel the weight of his gaze just before he turned back to whatever he was doing. at first, you thought you were imagining it, that maybe you just wanted him to look at you so badly that your mind was playing tricks on you.

but then it kept happening.

like that time you were leaning against the counter during a slow shift, absentmindedly fiddling with a snack wrapper, when you felt it—that unmistakable pull of someone’s stare. you turned your head just in time to see woonhak, standing by the fridge section, looking right at you.

his expression was unreadable, but his eyes held something unfamiliar, something you couldn’t quite name.

the second your eyes met, he looked away, pretending to check the labels on the bottled drinks.

your heartbeat stuttered.

maybe he wasn’t as oblivious as you thought.

—

the storm rolled in without warning. one moment, the sky outside the store was a deep navy, the streetlights flickering lazily against the pavement. the next, rain was hammering against the windows, wind howling through the cracks in the doors. then—darkness.

the hum of the refrigerators cut out, the overhead lights flickered once, then died. the only thing left was the soft, eerie glow of the emergency lights lining the walls.

“great,” you muttered, setting down the inventory clipboard you’d been pretending to work on.

behind the counter, woonhak sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. he tapped the screen. “no signal.”

of course. just your luck to be stuck in a blackout, in a convenience store, alone with woonhak.

you shifted awkwardly, glancing at him. “should we, uh… do something? or just wait it out?”

he looked around, eyes scanning the dimly lit store. “well, we can’t close up, and we can’t leave.” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “guess we’re stuck here for a while.”

with nothing else to do, the two of you sat down on the floor near the counter, backs against the shelves stocked with instant noodles. the emergency lights cast a faint, bluish glow over his face, making his features look softer, almost unreal.

for a while, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was heavy, like something unspoken was lingering between you. then, out of nowhere, woonhak let out a small, breathy chuckle.

“this is kinda weird, huh?” he mused.

you turned to him. “what is?”

“being here like this. we’ve worked together for months, but this is probably the longest we’ve ever talked.”

you blinked, taken aback by his sudden honesty. “yeah. you’ve always been... kind of hard to talk to.”

he raised an eyebrow. “hard to talk to?”

“i mean, you’re quiet. you don’t really say much unless it’s about work,” you admitted, hugging your knees. “honestly, i wasn’t sure if you even liked me.”

woonhak tilted his head slightly, studying you. “i never disliked you,” he said after a pause. “i just… don’t always know what to say.”

you looked at him, waiting, sensing there was more.

he exhaled, leaning his head back against the shelves. “it’s kinda dumb, but… i feel like i don’t have time to just—talk. i’m always thinking about what i should be doing next. school, work, helping my dad. it’s a lot, you know?”

his voice was quieter now, the usual steadiness replaced with something more fragile.

“because you’re the eldest?” you asked softly.

he nodded, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “yeah. i don’t really have a choice. my dad relies on me, and i don’t want to let him down. sometimes, i think about what i actually want to do, but then i feel guilty, like i’m being selfish.”

for the first time, you saw him not as the woonhak that everyone admired—the perfect son, the dependable coworker—but as a boy who was just… tired.

hesitantly, you said, “i get it. maybe not in the exact same way, but… i understand what it’s like to feel like you have to be something for everyone else.”

he turned to you, intrigued. “yeah?”

you nodded, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “i’ve always felt like i had to prove something. like if i don’t push myself hard enough, i’ll just… fade into the background. i guess that’s why i’ve always been so frustrated with you.”

he blinked. “with me?”

you let out a small laugh. “yeah. you make everything look so easy. it’s like you don’t even have to try, and meanwhile, i’m over here struggling to keep up.”

woonhak was quiet for a moment, then—to your surprise—he smiled. not his usual polite smile, but something softer, more real.

“i didn’t know you thought that,” he murmured. “if it makes you feel any better, i think you work harder than anyone else here.”

you felt your face warm, looking away. “you’re just saying that.”

“no,” he said simply. “i’m not.”

the air between you shifted, something settling into place. and for the first time since meeting him, you didn’t feel invisible.

—

the change was subtle at first, but once you noticed it, you couldn’t unsee it.

woonhak was everywhere.

he was always near, always teasing, always finding little excuses to talk to you. he stopped treating you like just another co-worker and started acting like… well, like someone who actually wanted to be around you.

one evening, after an unusually slow shift, you were restocking shelves when you accidentally knocked over a row of neatly stacked chip bags.

“careful,” woonhak drawled from behind you, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “you break it, you buy it.”

you huffed, bending down to pick up the fallen bags. “do you ever actually help, or do you just stand there and make fun of me?”

“oh, i definitely just stand here and make fun of you,” he said, grinning.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

and then there was the way he waited for you after shifts. at first, you thought it was a coincidence—maybe he just happened to finish work at the same time as you. but then it happened again. and again.

“why are you still here?” you asked one night, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets as you locked up the store.

woonhak stretched lazily, as if he hadn’t been waiting outside for you. “it’s dark out.”

“so?”

he gave you a pointed look. “might as well walk together.”

you narrowed your eyes. “but your house is—”

“doesn’t matter.” he started walking ahead, then glanced back at you, raising an eyebrow. “you coming, or what?”

you hated how easily he did this—how effortlessly he inserted himself into your routine, into your life, like he had always been there.

you groaned, but the truth was, you liked it. you liked how he matched his pace with yours, how he walked on the side closest to the street, how he never let the conversation die out even when you weren’t sure what to say.

and then there were the snacks.

at first, it was small. a bag of your favorite chips left near the register, a cold drink placed beside your bag without a word. when you asked about it, he’d just shrug.

“it’s nothing.”

but it wasn’t nothing.

one afternoon, after a particularly long shift, you found a neatly wrapped rice ball waiting for you in the breakroom.

you picked it up, turning it over in your hands. “did you—”

“you haven’t eaten, right?” woonhak interrupted, not looking at you as he busied himself with the stock list.

you blinked. “how did you know?”

“you always forget when you’re working.”

your heart stuttered at his words.

he noticed.

he was noticing you now. really noticing you.

you unwrapped the rice ball slowly, trying to ignore the way your hands felt unsteady. “thanks,” you muttered.

woonhak finally looked at you then, and for once, his usual teasing expression softened into something quieter. “don’t mention it.”

and that was how it was. little moments, little gestures, little things that all added up to something bigger.

you weren’t sure what it was, not yet. but you liked it.

and just as you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, this was turning into something more—

you overheard the conversation.

—

it was late, your shift nearly over, when you heard woonhak’s father speaking in hushed tones near the back of the store.

“it’s a big opportunity, woonhak. you’d be crazy to pass this up.”

you froze, your hand tightening around the stack of receipts you’d been organizing.

“i know,” woonhak replied, his voice lower than usual. hesitant.

you inched closer to the back of the store, staying just out of sight behind one of the shelves.

“then what’s the problem?” his father pressed. “you’ve worked hard for this. this isn’t just about the store—this is about your future.”

there was a pause. a long, heavy silence.

then, woonhak exhaled. “it’s just... sudden.”

“that’s how these things work. you don’t always get time to think. you have to act.” his father’s voice softened slightly. “listen, i know you worry about me, about the store, but i’ll be fine. this is your chance to do something more, something bigger than this place.”

your stomach twisted.

what was he talking about? what opportunity? where would it take him?

and why—why did it feel like something was slipping through your fingers before you even had the chance to hold it?

you heard woonhak sigh, the kind he let out when he was deep in thought, troubled.

“i just need time,” he murmured.

his father didn’t push him further, only replying, “just don’t take too long, son.”

you stood frozen behind the shelves long after the conversation ended, your heart pounding in your ears.

because you already knew.

whatever this was—whatever had been growing between you and woonhak, however slowly, however subtly—it wasn’t going to last.

the next few days felt different. not because anything had changed—woonhak still teased you, still left snacks by the register, still waited for you after your shifts like it was the most natural thing in the world. but now, there was something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

you weren’t sure if he knew you had overheard. part of you wanted to pretend you didn’t, to pretend things were the same. but you weren’t sure how long you could keep up the act when every moment with him suddenly felt like it had an expiration date.

then one night, as the store’s closing time approached, woonhak finally said it.

“can we talk?”

you turned to him, heart pounding. “yeah.”

he hesitated before pulling you outside, the cool night air wrapping around you both. the neon lights from the store’s sign buzzed softly above you, casting a faint glow over his face.

for a moment, he just looked at you, like he was trying to memorize something. then, he sighed.

“you heard, didn’t you?”

you swallowed. “yeah.”

woonhak let out a dry chuckle, looking down at his shoes. “figured. you’re not exactly subtle when you eavesdrop.”

“shut up,” you muttered, but there was no real bite to it.

he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “it’s a scholarship. a really good one. i’d be studying abroad for a year—maybe longer, if things go well.”

your chest tightened. “that’s… amazing.”

he scoffed. “you don’t sound like you mean that.”

“no, i do.” you forced a smile. “this is everything you’ve worked for, right?”

“yeah,” he said, but his voice was uncertain. he wasn’t looking at you anymore, staring out at the empty street instead. “but… i don’t want to leave you alone.”

you blinked, caught off guard by his honesty.

he turned back to you, his usual teasing expression replaced with something raw, something real. “i mean it. the thought of being somewhere new, somewhere exciting—it should make me happy, right? but all i can think about is how i won’t be here. with you.”

your throat felt tight. because a few months ago, you never would have imagined hearing those words from woonhak. back then, you weren’t even sure he noticed you. and now here he was, standing in front of you, telling you he didn’t want to leave you behind.

but you couldn’t let him stay just for you.

you reached out, poking his forehead lightly. “you’re an idiot.”

he blinked. “what—”

“you have to go, woonhak,” you said softly. “you’d regret it if you didn’t.”

he frowned. “but—”

“but nothing,” you cut him off, smiling a little. “you won’t lose me.”

he stared at you, and for once, he didn’t have a witty comeback.

you took a deep breath. “i’ll wait for you. no matter how long it takes.”

woonhak exhaled, shaking his head with a small, incredulous laugh. “you’re serious?”

“dead serious.” you tilted your head at him. “what, do you not trust me?”

“no, it’s not that,” he muttered. “it’s just… funny. the you from a few months ago didn’t even think i knew you existed, and now you’re out here promising to wait for me.”

you felt your face heat up. “shut up.”

but woonhak was grinning now, his usual self creeping back in. “you’re kind of romantic, you know that?”

“don’t push it.”

he laughed, then—to your surprise—reached out and ruffled your hair. “alright, fine. i’ll go. but only because you said you’d wait for me.”

you swatted his hand away, scowling. “like you weren’t gonna go anyway.”

“nope. i was seriously considering staying.” he gave you a lopsided smile, and something about it made your heart ache. “but i guess i have to make this count now. wouldn’t want to keep you waiting too long.”

you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

and when he walked you home that night, he stayed a little longer by your door, hesitating like he had something more to say.

but instead of words, he reached out, carefully intertwining his pinky with yours.

a silent promise.

“wait for me,” he murmured.

you squeezed his hand, grinning. “i already said i would, didn’t i?”

and as woonhak laughed, shaking his head like you were the most ridiculous person in the world, you realized something.

for the first time, you weren’t afraid of losing him. because somehow, in his own way, woonhak was waiting for you too.

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ekkkkey · 3 days ago

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there will be games! (chapter II)

summary: Cassandra, a quiet and loyal wife to the much older Senator Tiberius, accidentally attracts the unsettling attention of Emperor Caracalla at a lavish feast hosted by Senator Thraex...

warnings: 18+ minors dni, noncon, dub-con, non-consensual drug use, when the emperor is a bit insane, mommy issues, daddy issues, every kind of issues—this little shit has them all (he’s so cute)

word count: 5k words

chapter I

«No woman could feel safe if her beauty or name aroused the emperor's curiosity.»

-Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars (Caligula, Chapter 36)

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

She didn't want to get out of bed, didn't want to leave their room, all she wanted was to go home. Not to their new villa in Rome, not even to her husband's old house. Cassandra longed for her childhood home, with her father and sisters, where she could always be the little girl.

"You're an early bird today," Tiberius said, waking and stretching towards her.

Her heart skipped, her palms sweaty with worry.

"Those who apologize properly deserve forgiveness, don't they, little bird?" - another voice, deceptively tender but promising nothing good, echoed in her mind.

Cassandra wrapped herself tighter in the sheet, licking her lips, hiding her body from her husband, not wanting his touch.

"I slept poorly. And I don't feel well. When will we return home?"

Tiberius got up, his brief morning tenderness replaced by his usual sour mood.

"When the games end. Not before. I've got business."

Normally gentle and shy, she never argued with him, but this time, she tossed the sheet aside and jumped up, chasing after him, desperate to talk face-to-face. Her hands shook. She pictured herself – pale, nervous, dark circles under her eyes, hair a mess, more like a madwoman than a loving wife. Ashamed of her sudden anger, Cassandra covered up again.

"I feel awful, I'm nauseous, could it be a child, Tiberius?" she tried to elicit some sympathy, pressing her hand to her stomach.

She couldn't stand another moment in the palace.

"Tell me, wife, what troubles you so much?" - he took a step forward. She had never truly feared him, but suddenly realized that after yesterday, both he disgusted her and she feared him. It was his fault! Everything that happened to her was his fault!

"I'm really not well."

"And where better than the emperor's palace to find a good physician?"

Realizing her words were futile, she slumped back on the bed's edge, and Tiberius knelt in front of her, resting his cheek against her leg.

"The emperor," he began, "Emperor Caracalla, he's ill. His mind is rotting, just like his body, so you won't find better physicians here. Should I call someone for you?"

Cassandra couldn't breathe, pulling away from her husband, standing up in a daze, not caring about her nudity. Even when servants walked in, she didn't cover up, lost in dark thoughts.

Emperor Caracalla's mind was afflicted by a disease? What kind of disease? She knew nothing about medicine and couldn't even guess. Did this make him more dangerous, or was his nature already cruel and violent? His smirking face flashed in her mind, his mood swings, his smile turning to a sneer...

Cassandra flinched when someone touched her from behind. She quickly scolded herself.

"Stop, he won't burst into your chambers while you're with your husband!" - she repeated, but she didn't believe it, if he wanted, he'd take her right in front of Tiberius, and no one would stop him.

She spent the entire morning trying to comfort herself, but her anxiety only grew. First, Tiberius noticed the purple bite on her skin. She managed to excuse it, saying he'd had too much wine and hadn't been gentle with her in bed. He believed her.

She was horrified again when the slave girls began to dress her.

"This isn't my clothing!" - the fabrics were too vivid and fine, and they...they smelled of aromatic oils and powder.

"Not yours, true, but we'll be here for some time, and until your clothes arrive from the villa, you need something to wear, don't you?" her husband murmured, looking at her like a piece of art. "You can't just walk around naked, can you?"

She would have preferred to parade through the palace entirely naked rather than willingly wear the clothes and jewels Caracalla had sent her, fully aware of how pleased he would be. Yet, the problem was, her nude debut would have left him equally pleased.

The stands were louder than ever, and only when they entered the imperial box did she understand why. The Colosseum was flooded!

They were late due to her distraction and sluggishness; if she had her way, they wouldn't have come at all, but there she was, seated behind Lucilla once again.

Despite the excitement of the ship battles, the clanging of metal, her eyes kept falling on the red-haired head before her.

Neither emperor acknowledged their arrival, too absorbed in the spectacle, and while Geta later gave her husband a nod of recognition, Caracalla didn't even turn around. Anger simmered in her chest. For him, last night was nothing, but for her...For her, it had haunted her all night and morning. All her thoughts were trapped in those wretched, humiliating moments.

Why did he seem to have forgotten while she, cursedly, remembered every touch? Remembered his hands were soft and hot, his scent sweet, almost intoxicating... And, of course, she remembered the bitter humiliation from his words, from how he touched her, and that Emperor Geta had watched it all.

Cassandra pressed hard on her palm where the wound was healing, trying to push away the memories. She wouldn't let him occupy her mind as well.

Yet, she couldn't relax, pandemonium broke out in the box when the ships came too close and an arrow hit the column between the emperors' chairs. The last thing she heard before Tiberius pulled her out was Emperor Geta's piercing scream.

The palace was buzzing with unbearable noise, the feast meant for evening had transitioned into the day, though the servants were not fully prepared.

Cassandra stood by a column, wine cup in hand. Her husband had left her again, off with General Acacius. The emperors were nowhere to be seen, nor were most of the Senate.

"How many do you think will be executed today?" she heard a quiet female whisper.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the emperor ordered all the gladiators on the field to be gutted," another voice answered, "you know how he is, insatiable!" A burst of giggling followed, and Cassandra stopped listening, embarrassed by the direction of their conversation.

She understood that for many, winning the emperors’ favor was a dream. But for her? She was a married woman who had spent her youth cultivating a sense of duty, loyalty, and responsibility. Why, then, had the gods abandoned her? Faithful and devoted as she was, they had thrown her to their earthly incarnations to be torn apart.

"More wine, domina?" a slave girl dutifully refilled her goblet.

The girl was young, dark-skinned, and beautiful, with large, intelligent eyes. Cassandra noticed the gilded collar around her slender neck and suddenly felt an invisible, soft, and hot hand squeezing her own throat. In a rush, she took a large gulp, wincing at the bitter taste, then handed the cup back.

"No more, thank you," she said, licking her lips nervously, knowing she wouldn't find peace in this cacophony.

"Are you not well, domina?" the girl asked, worry in her voice.

"I just...I need some time alone," she muttered quickly, stepping away from the column, only to stagger and clutch her head. What was happening to her?

"Do you want me to take you somewhere quiet, domina? You can rest and come back later," the girl didn't wait for an answer, guiding her by the elbow out of the room. Such audacity from a slave was unheard of, but Cassandra was too rattled and her head was spinning.

"Where are we going?"

They navigated past the throne room into a small, almost secretive chamber. The ceiling wasn't as high, the columns much less grand, the lighting dim and gloomy, and in the center stood a white altar, adorned with gold. In her parents' home, next to her room, there was a similar one, much more modest, of course, but dear to her heart, where she had prayed to her late mother.

"Wait outside," the words were both a sentence for her and an order for the slave.

She wanted to scream. Of course, he was here. No one was to be trusted, even the slave's kindness was a trap—cruel and painful. Was she truly nothing more than a prisoner here, a powerless plaything to entertain the young emperor?

Every time she saw him, he seemed like a different person. He was dressed in black and gold, with a golden laurel crown and an earring. Gold, gold, gold! She despised its gleam, for in it, she saw him.

Huddled against the wall, she stood frozen, afraid to move. The emperor did seem different this time—melancholic and contemplative. His pale eyes were unusually clear and sober as they met hers.

"What did you tell your husband?" His voice was different too: calm, measured. That made it all the more terrifying. Cassandra couldn’t read his mood from his face.

"Nothing, Caesar," she whispered, afraid to speak louder, as if his calm depended on it.

Caracalla turned to the altar, studying it as if seeing it for the first time. She held her breath, watching the golden laurel shimmer in the torchlight.

"Come closer."

His tone was pensive, his light brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. The moment she stepped closer, the emperor’s gaze shifted to her. It slid from her neck, lower, along the colorful tunic she wore.

"My mother used to wear this," he said. To her surprise, his right hand was bare of rings as he brushed the fabric over her chest lightly, almost tenderly. His eyes stayed locked on hers.

Though still afraid, it felt different from yesterday. Worse.

Why had he forced her to come here? Why had he dressed her in the clothes of his dead mother? Cassandra cast a desperate glance at the door, but he noticed immediately. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"She often came here," he continued, "prayed to the gods," his words were vague, her thoughts growing heavier, "do you pray often?"

"Yes, Emperor," she replied, though her mind was growing heavier, duller, as though lulled into a haze that numbed her fear.

"When was the last time?"

The conversation was bizarre, so unlike what had happened the night before. Feeling almost drunk, she answered without thinking, and that's when everything started to spiral.

"Today, when that arrow almost hit you," she said, breathing heavily, it was hot, like under the midday sun, "I prayed for the next one to hit."

Her tormented mind knew he would kill her now. That Caracalla would carry out his threats, destroy her and her family. But instead, he laughed.

Grinning, he patted her shoulder as if she’d told an excellent joke. Then the sharp pain of his hand striking her cheek brought her back to reality. He had slapped her! Tears welled in her eyes, her lips trembling, but she didn’t have time to cry. The emperor grabbed her face, squeezing her jaw painfully.

"You did drink it, didn't you? That wine they brought you?" Caracalla whispered, his voice low as he leaned closer, still holding her face. "Oh, you did! I can see it. Your dilated pupils, that empty stare, struggling to think straight, hard to control your tongue? I get it," in a mock tender gesture, he caressed the cheek he'd just slapped, "for those words, your pretty head should be on a spike outside the palace, shouldn't it? But you know the rules, if you apologize properly, I forgive."

With his thumb, he drew circles on her reddened cheek, moved to her lips, tracing their outline, forcing her to open her mouth by pressing down.

"You understand now, don’t you? The aphrodisiac in the wine you drank," he pushed his finger inside, making her lips encircle it, "I wanted to play differently, but..." his face twisted with anger, "everything went terribly wrong."

Her already rapid heartbeat quickened further, she whimpered helplessly, wanting to cry. He had made her take the drug and was now exploiting her helplessness, shamelessly tormenting her mouth.

"You should say thank you, shouldn’t you? Or did you enjoy last night more? Shall I call my brother?" he chuckled, once again reverting to his usual self.

Caracalla released her face but immediately pinned her against the altar, tilting his head up and gazing at her from beneath his lowered lashes, as if admiring her, smiling.

The torchlight reflected in his eyes, his tongue flicked between his red lips in anticipation. His hand caressed her shoulder, then he removed the pin holding the fabric.

"Did the old senator fail to notice that his dear little wife isn't really his anymore?" he sneered, his fingers trailing down to the mark he'd bitten into her skin the night before, pressing down, aiming to cause as much discomfort as possible. Caracalla's breath grew heavier, his eyes followed every flicker of emotion on her face, every slight movement she made.

"I told him it was his fault... that he drank too much..." The confession fell from her lips without thought, her mind too clouded to hold it back.

"Ah! How unfortunate, and once again, the Senate takes credit for the emperor's work! But you'll comfort me, won't you?" His lips were so close, she felt his hot, uneven breath, saw his pupils, as black as hers, the smeared shadows making his eyes feverishly gleam with madness. Her gaze only darted down to his lips for a moment... and he pressed against her, pulling her into a kiss.

His hands seize her waist, gripping and tormenting, not just her body but her very soul. If she could cry, she would, but there's no energy left, only his greedy, hot mouth. To her, a kiss was something far more intimate, far more sacred than carnal union, promising tenderness and love...And even that he steals from her, kissing her shamelessly, wetly, pressing so hard she feels his hardness against her thigh.

"Let's continue our lovely conversation," he pulls back, his mouth trailing down to her neck, kissing and biting, "tell me, did Tiberius ever get you this wet?" His hand slides between her legs, rubbing through the fabric. "Even once?"

"No," she whimpers, trying to close her legs.

"Keep acting innocent, and I'll call the Praetorians to keep your legs spread wide, is that what you want?" his rough whisper burns her ear, his earring brushing her lips.

Cassandra shook her head, public humiliation was something she couldn't handle.

"Good. Obedient and well-behaved, just as a respectable matron should be," he purrs, his hand lazily caressing, more relishing her embarrassment than her body, "if you want, you can call me your husband!"

His sharp laugh slices through the narrow room.

"Undress," he commanded, his laughter gone, "I'm not going to fuck you in my mother's clothes, am I?"

She thought after all the pain, the threats, the violence, he couldn't hurt her more, but each time, it still cuts deep. With trembling hands, she hurriedly sheds her tunic, then her undergarments, laying them out as treasures, while he watches. His gaze is fixed, nostrils flaring, Cassandra sees him stroking himself under his tunic. Her cheeks burn, her clouded mind finally grasps it - he's going to take her right here, in this holy place, before ancestors and gods. Her soul will be damned, even in death!

"Touch yourself, feel how wet you are," his voice is husky, breathless, "you should be grateful to me for that, shouldn't you? That's what I've been talking about."

Head bowed, she slides her fingers between her legs, horror dawning as she realizes he's right. But why? The drug? The notion that he aroused her with his aggressive kisses, his sharp bites, his lewd whispers, she dismisses in disgust. She didn't want him, she hated him!

Seeing her shock, Caracalla broke into a smile, fully aware of her thoughts. Abandoning his arousal, the emperor circled her nipple with his thumb, watching it harden under his touch.

"It's not surprising your husband doesn't stir your passions, look at yourself," his hand traces down her body, over her breasts, stomach, to her mound, pausing again between her legs, "you're more his daughter than his wife!"

His fingers gather her moisture, rubbing, making her despise her body's response.

"So, will you take your emperor?" he asks, not for permission but to keep the game going.

She can only nod, there's no other choice.

"Say it out loud," Caracalla whispers raggedly, pushing his fingers deep inside her. Now she understands why he took off his rings.

"Yes, Caesar, I'll take whatever you give me," with those words, the last vestiges of her pride are smashed, her genuine compassion and naivety destroyed.

He takes her with a sudden, harsh thrust, only to slow down to a lazy, almost indulgent rhythm. The air is stifling, hot; sweat drips down her thighs. The only sounds are the crackle of the torch, his ragged breathing, and the vulgar, wet slaps of skin meeting skin.

As if to disgrace her further, he grips the back of her neck, forcing her to look into his eyes as he picks up the pace again. Here he is—the protector and father of his people—bestowing his gifts. He's still clothed, no need to undress; the chain around his neck jingles with each movement, his crown slipping forward.

"Doesn’t this feel good, sweetling? Don’t you feel good?"

"Cassandra," she whispers, "my name is Cassandra."

He stops, looking at her with surprise, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Is it really that important for me to know your name, Cassandra?" he teases, playfully biting her earlobe. "Has the little wife fallen in love?"

How could he think that? Anger surges within her. Her attempt to claim some dignity crumbles! But her thoughts vanish as he thrusts into her sharply, fully, making her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders. It’s the first time she’s touched him willingly. Her simple gesture spurred him on even more, forcing a quiet whimper from her as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"Next time your senator fucks you, think of me, little bird, understand?" his whisper turns into a moan. She's mesmerized by his parted red lips, his light lashes fluttering, his chest heaving. A few rough thrusts later, his grip on her waist loosens, and his seed floods within her.

He lets her go, adjusting his clothes, his breathing still heavy, but his gaze has changed. Having gotten what he wanted, Caracalla loses interest.

"If you're lucky, my seed will take root, and you'll give your husband an heir!" he chuckles, playfully flicking her nose as if she were a pet. "The wench will help you dress, don't forget, there’s a feast to attend!"

Caracalla leaves her, trembling, bare, and shattered. Tears finally come, and without strength, she slides down the wall, hugging herself. The worst is the sticky feeling between her thighs he left behind. If she were to conceive...

"Domina, you shouldn't sit like this, please stand, I'll help you," the slave girl who brought her here shows no emotion, no trace of sympathy in her eyes.

"Leave me!"

"Staying here is not an option, one must respect the dead," the girl nods at the inscription on the altar.

"Lucius Septimius Severus"

He had defiled her beside his father's ashes! Now, she lets her sobs escape freely.

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

Hey! Thank you so much for the sweet feedback on the last chapter, I didn’t expect so many people to like my work, I’m really grateful! 💋 I promise the next chapter will be up faster (but it also depends on how this one does, your feedback means a lot to me and really inspires me).

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