#we can’t even dry him because he’s too scared

[littlemillersbaby]

request: Hi lovely person ! Could I request an angst to fluff piece with Joel miller? So I was thinking.. we always see Dbf! Joel smut, but I would really like something angsty with that trope. Maybe something along the lines of the reader and Joel being together in secret because you know being scared of judgment because of the age gap and stuff and not the father finding out. But then there's this woman, more to Joel's age coming into the picture, making reader insecure thinking she's not enough and too young and naive but in the end all turns out good? I'm a sucker for angst loll" word count: 1,2k warnings: cursing!

you were supposed to be past this by now. the self-doubt. the little pinpricks of anxiety you never used to feel before joel. the kind that bloom right in your chest; it hadn’t always been this bad. at the start, it had been electric—hiding, sneaking, the way his hands used to shake the first time he touched you like he couldn’t believe what he was doing. what you were letting him do.

but that was when it was new. now it’s just uncertain.

you came home early. you tell yourself you’re doing it to surprise him, but deep down, it’s selfish. you missed him, wanted to see him and hear that voice all rough and possessive. you were gonna kiss his neck and make him groan like he always does when you wrap your arms around his middle from behind.

but, once you get there, the front door’s already open. maybe he forgot to close it all the way? no way not joel.

within that small moment of you questioning why the door was open, you hear his sweet laugh and a woman’s voice.

you freeze in the entryway, sneakers still on, keys tight in your hand. you see them before they see you.

he was in the kitchen, leaning on the island like he lives here. it’s an image you always love—him comfortable in your house. like it’s his too. but next to him is her. she’s got one elbow on the counter, her whole body tilted toward him, her legs crossed while she’s laughing at something he just said, flipping her shiny brown hair off her shoulder with practiced ease.

your throat goes dry seeing him grin widely at her..he was yours for fucks sake.

your feet move before your brain decides where to go. you make a little too much noise, keys clattering on the hallway table, and the door clicks harder behind you than it should. you know you should smile. a joke, maybe? just say something.

joel turns around fast at the sound.

“hey, baby,” he says, but it’s careful, like he’s trying to read your mood before you’ve even said a word. he straightens up, steps away from the island.

the woman turns to you too. she’s prettier up close, older too. just right..like if he wasn’t with you, she’d be the natural fit. not your frayed little heart that’s too young to have any right wanting something this serious.

“hi,” you say, and it’s clipped and fake.

you try not to look at him. because you know if you do, it’ll all show. how suddenly, irrationally fucking insane your brain’s gotten.

joel must see it anyway, because his eyes narrow, not angry. just—watching, somewhat worried. the older woman pushes off the counter, smoothly. “i should head out,” she says, glancing at joel. “thanks for the help. you’re a lifesaver.”

joel nods, kind of tight-lipped now. “no problem. let me know if it doesn’t start again.” she smiles at you on the way past. you can’t bring yourself to return it. your face feels frozen in place.

joel waits until the door clicks behind her before he speaks.

“you good?” you’re still standing by the entryway, arms crossed like you were cold.

“who was that?” you ask, and it comes out cooler than you meant.

he runs a hand through his hair, sighs, steps toward you, rushing out the words. “her name’s elena. neighbor’s cousin. she’s in town for a bit; had some car trouble.”

you blink at his simple explanation. “oh.”

he studies you. “okay darlin', what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”

you almost laugh—but it’s bitter and sharp in your throat.

you walk past him toward the living room, not sure what you’re doing. you feel stupid, childish, pathetic. and still—you can’t stop. it’s gnawing at you. inside your chest, inside your bones.

you don’t sit down, just turn to face him.

“nothing. just…she’s pretty and normal. and probably not some big secret.”

he flinches. “what the hell does that mean?”

you wrap your arms tighter around yourself. “you know what it means. i’m the one you sneak around with. the one you don’t talk about. and then i walk in and you’re laughing with her like..like you’re not ashamed to be seen with her.”

his jaw works, tightens, then softens again.

“ashamed?” he echoes, incredulous. “is that what you think this is?”

you don’t answer. you just keep going because now that you’ve started it, it’s like you can’t stop. every thought you’ve shoved down in the last few months starts rising like bile in your throat.

“sometimes i just wonder how long this’ll last, you know? how long before you realize i’m too much or not enough. that this is all some dumb phase and you’re just waiting for a reason to bail. like maybe you wake up one day and look at me and wonder what the fuck you’re doing wasting time with some girl barely out of college who still calls her dad to ask how to fix her tires.”

joel walks to you, leans over you in an endearing manner. “hey..hey..look at me.”

you don’t want to. your eyes are wet and you feel like an idiot. but he cups your face in both hands, rough thumbs brushing your cheeks, and you have no choice.

he leans down, rests his forehead against yours.

“i love you,” he says. “i’m not goin’ anywhere. and don’t you ever—ever—talk about yourself like that again.”

your lip trembles as his grip tightens.

“you think i don’t wish i could take you everywhere? shout it from the rooftops that you’re mine? i do, baby. every fuckin’ day. i just…” he sighs, jaw clenching again. “i worry, alright? i know how people see me. old enough to know better. and you? you’re this bright, gotdamn beautiful thing, and i don’t wanna drag you down into all my mess.”

you shake your head, fast, angry now. “you don’t get to decide that for me, joel.”

he smiles fondly, even with the tension thick between you.

“i know. you keep remindin’ me. but this? this ain’t a fling. you’re not some secret i’m ashamed of. you’re the best thing in my life, i swear.”

you swallow. “then why does it feel like you’re always waiting for it to fall apart?”

he pulls you in—both arms around you, holding you so tight it aches. his lips press to your hair.

“’cause i don’t deserve you. but i’m selfish enough to keep you anyway.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, burying your face in his chest.

his voice rumbles in your ear. “you’re not too young. you’re not too much. you’re not anything but exactly what i want. every second. every day.”

you’re quiet a long time. his hand strokes your back comforting you.

“you smiled at her,” you whisper. “like it was easy to do.”

he leans back, just enough to look at you. “and you smile at bartenders when they spell your name right on your smoothies. doesn’t mean you wanna fuck ‘em.”

you snort against your will.

he grins. “see? there she is.”

you wrap your arms around his waist and hold on tight.

“i hate how much i love you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“nah,” he mutters, kissing your temple. “you love how much you love me.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t let go. and never will.

special tags: @inbred-eater , @wintfleur , @lowrisemiller

[pixlokita]

Lil guy screaming at 4 am outside because there’s that storm in Texas =w= we already have 10 cats so we can’t keep him >>; hopefully the mom and siblings are ok :’v he was by himself

[sleepyhoon]

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM 

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

[shmpxx]

CURSED SPIRIT — y.o

⛤ curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader

yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!

wc: 1.2k

a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)

Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.

Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.

Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.

Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.

Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.

Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.

Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.

Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.

Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.

Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.

[orangeblossomsintheair]

DAD SIMON THOUGHTS!!

im also in this fandom now ;>

simon’s fingers tapped restlessly against the edge of the table as you placed your mug down and sat across from him. he avoided your gaze, staring at a spot on the wall instead. his silence was deafening, stretching long enough to make you sigh.

“spit it out, simon,” you said gently, leaning forward.

“there’s nothing to spit out,” he muttered, but his clenched jaw betrayed him.

you tilted your head, watching him with that knowing look that always unnerved him. “you’re acting like the world’s about to end.”

he huffed a humorless laugh. “maybe it is.”

your brows knitted together, but there was no anger, only a concern that made his skin itch. “simon, talk to me.”

he nearly laughed at your face. you made it sound so easy.

how could he put that fear into words, knowing it might hurt you, knowing it might break something in you too?

“i can’t,” he finally admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “it’s not… i don’t want to say something I can’t take back.”

your lips pressed into a thin line as you reached out, taking his hand in yours. “you’re scared.”

“i’m not scared,” he shot back too quickly, tone defensive.

“you’re terrified,” you corrected softly, squeezing his hand. “and that’s okay.”

you tilted your head, trying to catch his eyes. “now, seriously. talk to me.”

he shook his head. “what if I’m not…good enough? what if I fail you? or our baby?”

your hand tightened around his, and you moved closer, your eyes unwavering. “you won’t. because you care too much to fail. and because you don’t have to do this alone.”

“i don’t know how to be…” he trailed off, his voice cracking.

“a father?” you finished for him, your voice warm.

he nodded, staring at your joined hands.

“you’re already doing it,” you said softly. “you’re here, si. that’s what matters most. the rest, we figure out as we go.”

simon leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

he hadn’t said anything for a while now, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. you sat beside him, watching the way his shoulders tensed, his body a coiled spring ready to snap.

“i know you don’t believe me,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “no matter what I say, you’ve got it in your head that you’re not good enough.”

he didn’t respond, but his hands flexed slightly, like he was gripping onto some invisible weight he just couldn’t drop.

you exhaled, leaning closer, voice steady. “simon, I didn’t marry you because I thought you were perfect.”

he looked away, jaw tightening, but you pressed on.

“do you really think i didn’t know what i was getting into? i knew. and i still love you. i’ll always love you.” your hand rested on his, grounding him. “not because you’re perfect but because you show up. because you try, even when you’re scared. because you care, even when it hurts.”

his breath hitched, and for a moment, he didn’t move.

then he looked at you, his voice cracking as he whispered, “i don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

“you don’t get to decide that,” you replied, smile soft but firm.

his lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite know how. “bit bossy, aren’t you?”

you smirked, tilting your head playfully. “someone has to be, with you moping around like this.”

“moping?” his eyebrows lifted, the faintest hint of amusement creeping into his tone. “i don’t mope.”

“oh, you do,” you shot back, leaning back slightly but keeping your hands on his. “it’s very broody, very dramatic. could give shakespeare a run for his money.”

a dry laugh rumbled in his chest, and the sound warmed you more than you cared to admit. “didn’t know i married a comedian.”

“well, i didn’t marry a ray of sunshine, so i guess we’re even.” you grinned, poking him lightly in the ribs.

he caught your hand before you could do it again, holding it tightly but not enough to hurt. “careful,” he said, his voice low but teasing. “i’m dangerous, remember?”

your laughter bubbled out before you could stop it. “oh, please. you’re about as dangerous as a kitten when you’re sulking.”

he huffed, shaking his head, but the ghost of a smile finally broke through. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here we are,” you cooed, leaning closer until your forehead was almost touching his. “you stuck with me, riley. for better or worse.”

he let out a long breath, finally letting the tension drain from his shoulders. “guess i can live with that,” he said, his voice soft, his gaze warm in a way that made your heart ache.

“you better,” you quipped, grin returning full force. “because i’m not going anywhere.”

his lips finally curved into a small, genuine smile. “good,” he murmured, pulling you closer into his arms. “i’d be lost without you.”

[biggianteggplant]

RANDOMLY THOUGHT ABT THIS IN THE SHOWER ALSO SORRY FOR SPAM POSTING POOKIES, EXAM WEEKS ARE COMING AND I MIGHT VANISH FOR A WHILE SO IM SPOILING YALL AS MUCH AS I CAN

DRUNKKKK

KUROO TETSURO

You and Kuroo had a bit of a fight earlier. Nothing explosive—just one of those quiet disagreements that start over something small and fester in silence. You snapped at him for always forgetting to put your laundry in when he does his, and he bit back with a “Maybe I forget because you act like I mess everything up.”

Ouch.

He left soon leaving you a message. “I’ll be home late. Out with the guys.” You heart-reacted his message but didn’t reply. You knew he only went drinking with the old Nekoma team to blow off steam—still, you didn’t love it. Not because you didn’t trust him. You just knew how sensitive Kuroo really was under all the dry sarcasm, and alcohol always made those feelings louder.

You sat curled up on the couch, hoodie sleeves over your hands. His hoodie. The one he always forgets he stole from you.

It’s nearing 11:30 when your phone rings. Yamamoto.

You pick up and he’s already chuckling.

“Hey, uhh… sorry to call so late. Kuroo’s, uh. He’s not wasted but he definitely just tried to use his credit card on a vending machine. Thought he bought you a ring.”

You blink.

“What?? Where is he?”

“At your building. He wanted to surprise you but we figured we should warn you so you’re not, like, alarmed by the sounds of him softly singing 'Baby Shark' in the hallway.”

You throw on slippers and hurry down, half-annoyed but mostly worried.

When you open the lobby door, there he is—sitting on the hallway floor with your cat keychain in his hands and your name on his lips. He looks up at you like the world just made sense again.

“There you are…” he breathes, like he hadn’t seen you in years. “I was scared you wouldn’t come. Yamamoto said you’d probably still be mad. I told him you always come for me.”

You kneel down, and he leans forward, his head pressing against your shoulder. He’s warm and smells faintly like citrus soju and a hint of your shampoo—he used your bottle again, the one you told him to stop hogging.

“M’ sorry…” he murmurs. “For being a jerk earlier. I just—I suck at fights with you. I get defensive. And I shouldn’t. You’re right.”

You sigh, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“It’s okay. I was mean too. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“Still…” he sits up, blinking at you like he’s trying very hard to focus. “Can we not go to sleep mad? Even if I smell like… regret and lemon?”

You nod and hold out your hand. He smiles like it’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for him.

—

Back in your apartment, he curls up next to you on the couch, burying his face into the hoodie he’s wearing.

“Hey…” he says sleepily. “I just realized this is your hoodie.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah. The one you ‘accidentally’ took like a month ago.”

“Mm. That’s why it smells like comfort.” He tightens his hold around you. “Wanna wear it together. Forever. Hoodie marriage.”

You laugh softly. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is now. You’re stuck with me, hoodie and all.”

His breathing slows, one arm lazily draped around your waist, thumb brushing over your shirt like he needs to keep touching you or you’ll vanish.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

“Love you too,” you whisper back.

“…Even if you fight like a crab.”

You roll your eyes. But your fingers find his under the blanket, and you hold on.

Just like always.

BOKUTO KOUTARO

Bokuto doesn’t drink often.

Not because he can’t handle it—but because when he does, he goes all in. Like “suddenly poetic about sunsets” all in. So when he shows up to the MSBY boys' night with sleeves rolled up, a determined look in his eyes, and says:

“Let’s get drinks. I’m drinking tonight.”

Everyone immediately knows something is off.

Atsumu raises an eyebrow. “Bro, you don’t even like the taste of beer.”

Bokuto shrugs, already downing his first soju shot with the bitterness of betrayal written on his face.

“I saw a guy ask for Y/N’s number today.”

Silence.

Sakusa blinks. “Did she give it to him?”

“No!” Bokuto shouts, loud enough for the bar to turn their heads. “She told him no! She said, ‘Sorry, I’m taken,’ and then he looked at her like she was lying!”

“Okay, so…” Hinata asks cautiously. “Why are you drinking then?”

Bokuto slams his second shot.

“Because she called me a little sensitive about it!!”

The MSBY team collectively sighs. Here it goes again.

Fast forward an hour and Bokuto is tipsy-talking with the passionate intensity of a man who would write your name in the sky if he could.

“Y/N is so pretty,” he mumbles to no one in particular, chin resting on the table. “Like, not just pretty. Soul-pretty. And she always laughs at my jokes even when they’re not that funny, and she puts extra cheese on my ramen, and she lets me wear her socks when mine disappear—I LOVE HER SO MUCH—”

“WE KNOW,” the table groans.

Atsumu, sipping his beer like it’s holy water, mutters, “Every damn time he drinks, it’s like watching a rom-com with a protein shake.”

Even Sakusa, in his usual cool monotone, looks vaguely disturbed.

“I’m happy for him but I’m also very tired.”

Bokuto, absolutely unbothered, points at all of them.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I get forehead kisses and you don’t.”

Hinata grins. “Okay, he’s got a point.”

Meanwhile, you get a call around midnight.

“Hi babe,” Bokuto says sweetly, “Can you come pick me up? I drank because I was jealous but I’m not mad anymore. I just wanna cuddle and tell you you’re my favorite human until I pass out.”

You sigh, heart warm.

“I told you he was just a random guy, Kou. You really didn’t have to get drunk over it.”

“But you’re mine,” he slurs softly. “And I get nervous sometimes. You’re… y’know… you.”

“I love you,” you say quietly. “Even when you’re a tiny bit sensitive.”

He giggles. “Told you.”

When you arrive, Bokuto throws himself into your arms dramatically, mumbling into your shoulder:

“I’m not drunk. I’m in love.”

You look up to see the MSBY team watching from the table, visibly exhausted.

Atsumu: “Please. Take your owl. He’s been reciting your contact name like it’s poetry.”

KENMA KOZUME

You weren’t expecting company tonight. At all.

So when someone starts knocking at your door like they own the place, you open it with a half-annoyed sigh—only to find Kuroo Tetsuro standing there with a smugness so dense, it could fuel a small city.

He’s got one hand steadying Kenma, who looks both sleepy and mildly done with existence.

Kuroo, grinning like he just delivered a cursed artifact, says:

“Your package has arrived. Handle with care—might bite if threatened.”

Kenma lets out the softest sigh and leans forward into your arms without hesitation, nearly knocking you off balance.

Kuroo claps you on the back with zero shame.

“That grin?” he nods toward himself. “Yeah, it screams ‘I know he’s not affectionate, so consider this a gift.’ You’re welcome.”

Before you can reply, he’s already walking away, hands in his pockets, humming some dramatic villain theme.

“Good luck with him. He’s in full cling-mode. I call it Kenmess™.”

The door closes. Silence. You look down at the human cat blanket now half-draped over you.

“Okay,” you mutter. “Let’s get you to the couch, Kenmess.”

He makes a small, pleased sound like a warm riceball and clings tighter.

Once you finally get him settled, you grab a warm cloth from the bathroom and come back to wipe his face gently. You’re expecting sleepy mumbles at most.

You’re not expecting him to say

“I like your hands.”

You freeze.

“What?”

“They make my head stop buzzing.”

You pause the cloth mid-wipe. What is happening?

“Also,” he adds, blinking up at you, “you always make me feel safe. Like… even when I’m annoying. Which I probably am. But you never make me feel like a bother.”

Your entire brain short-circuits.

“Are you—okay?”

“I’m awesome,” he slurs softly. “I’m just being honest. You’re my favorite person. Like. In the whole server.”

“Did you just call our relationship a server—?”

“Ban anyone who flirts with you,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering shut, “They’re NPCs anyway…”

He reaches out and pulls you down beside him, his arms wrapped around your waist with alarming strength for someone who just drank three sojus because Kuroo annoyed him into it.

You try not to combust.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m being real,” he counters sleepily. “Let me keep you for the night. Recharge my social battery. Please.”

You give in. Of course you do. You tuck the blanket over both of you and feel his grip around you relax just slightly.

Before he passes out completely, he mutters:

“Tell Kuroo he’s still a menace. But thanks for the drop-off.”

AKAASHI KEIJI

It’s a quiet celebration. Akaashi and a few of his coworkers are out drinking after hitting a big milestone—finally submitting the last round of edits for a project that’s been haunting their backs for weeks. There’s laughter, clinking glasses, small talk—but Akaashi?

Akaashi’s silent.

He’s nursing a glass of plum wine, sitting off to the side in a booth like he’s physically present but mentally curled up in your hoodie on your couch.

And that’s when Tenma Udai—half-tipsy, half-wise—leans over, squinting.

“You good, Akaashi?”

No response.

Akaashi just stares into his drink like it holds answers. Then slowly, quietly, his shoulders start to shake.

Tenma blinks. Oh.

“...are you crying?”

Akaashi lets out a very soft, “Just a little,” like it’s the weather or something.

Tenma sighs, already smiling. Here we go.

“Let me guess… girlfriend withdrawal?”

Akaashi nods solemnly, bottom lip wobbling. His voice is barely above a whisper.

“Five hours.”

“Damn. A whole five.”

“She makes me food,” Akaashi mutters. “Like… actual meals. Even cuts the bread weird so it’s fun to eat.”

“Mhm.”

“And massages my back when I get stiff from writing too long.”

“Very kind.”

“She kisses me on the forehead like I’m a baby.”

“You do give off baby energy sometimes.”

Akaashi glares through his teary lashes.

“Shut up.”

Tenma chuckles, waving him off.

“Young love. It’s cute.”

Akaashi sniffles and pulls out his phone, unlocking it to your name on speed dial. You’re listed as EMERGENCY CONTACT in all caps, with a little heart.

“I think I should call her.”

“You think she’ll pick up?”

“She always does.”

And sure enough, your phone buzzes—and you answer on the third ring, voice soft with surprise.

“Keiji? Is everything okay?”

His voice cracks a little:

“Can I come home now?”

---

You’re in your comfiest pajamas, watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S when the doorbell rings.

You already know who it is.

You open the door slowly and there he is — Akaashi Keiji, looking like he ran through three stages of heartbreak, an existential crisis, and a Pinterest board of “Soft Boy Autumn.”

His hair’s slightly tousled, eyes a little red, and in his hands? A crumpled convenience store bag full of the most random—but specifically your favorite—snacks.

He holds the bag out like a peace offering.

“Hi,” he says, sheepish. “I missed you.”

You blink. “You’re drunk.”

“Not really.” (He is. But it’s the soft, sleepy, too-much-thinking kind.)

You step aside and he walks in slowly like he’s entering a sacred space. The second the door closes behind him, he wraps his arms around your waist and just… melts into you.

His forehead presses to your shoulder.

“Five hours,” he mumbles.

You giggle softly. “I know.”

“Do you know how long that is?”

“A little over 300 minutes?”

“It felt like years.”

You wrap your arms around him and run your fingers through his hair gently. He sighs so deeply you feel it in your spine.

“Everyone was talking and laughing and I just kept thinking…” sniff “…what if you’re cold right now and I’m not there to give you my hoodie?”

You laugh again, pulling away to cup his cheeks.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Only for you.”

You guide him to the couch where he immediately plops down with his head in your lap, mumbling something about your thighs being the only acceptable pillow.

You grab the bag of snacks and go through them.

“You got me honey butter chips, banana milk, and… a single boiled egg?”

He shrugs.

“That’s love.”

“That’s concerning.”

He closes his eyes, content and clinging to your waist.

“I don’t care if I’m clingy,” he murmurs. “I don’t wanna be cool tonight. I just wanna be yours.”

You lean down and kiss his forehead.

“You always are.”

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: X | 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: 15,033

—  warnings: teasing, strong language, swearing, mention of crying, sexual tension, mention of sexual frustration, mention of masturbation, mention of sex, dry humping, fingering, dom!jungkook, kind of masturbation, handjob, riding, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, nipple sucking, ass slapping, childbirth (please note that it might not be really accurate, I never gave birth so i don’t really know), screaming, crying, a lot of pain, blood, and mention of breastfeeding

—  author’s note: so this is it. this is the final chapter of this series 😭 i can’t believe this series is over, and it truly breaks my heart. i got so attached to this series and worked so hard on it. i’ve spent days building this universe, and the characters and thinking about everything. i can say that I feel proud with what i did considering that it’s the first time I build this kind of series, and to be honest, I never thought i’d write a werewolf au ���� again, i’m very sorry for all the time it took me to release this part but it’s been a hell of a journey with my hand, but things are finally getting better ✨ thank you so so much for reading this chapter & series!! 🩵🩵 it meant the world to me 🩵 there will still be an epilogue after this part so we’re not entirely done with this series! 🩵

Chapter X: bloodlines entwined

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

“I have some news to give you,” you announce as your eyes scan the classroom.

The little heads of your students are turned to you, and their little eyes are shining, excited to hear your announcement.

“I’m expecting a baby!” A smile grows on your face as you say those words out loud.

You haven’t said anything before because you were scared that something might happen to you or your little baby. But now that everything seems to be going just well, you feel like it’s about time your students knew. They are still very little, and very soon, you’re going to impose a drastic change on them. They need to get mentally prepared for that change.

“Where?” one of the students asks.

“The baby is currently growing in my belly,” you push up your shirt to show your baby bump.

Their eyes widen as they see your bump. Lately, you’ve been wearing larger clothes, sometimes even Jungkook’s clothes, as you wanted to be comfortable and hide your growing belly. For sure, your boyfriend doesn’t complain because he adores watching you wearing his clothes. Obviously, before you leave the house, he checks that you wear a bra as well. That would make you roll your eyes with annoyance.  

“And very soon, he will be out, ready to meet you,” you add while caressing your stomach.

“When can we meet the baby?” a little one says.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” a girl asks.

“Well, it’s a boy, and you still will have to wait a while before meeting him,” you gently explain. “He’s staying inside until June.”

“Oooh, it’s in a long time,” a little boy pouts. “It’s even after my birthday.”  

“I know, but around mid-May, another teacher will replace me because I won’t be able to continue to come anymore. The baby will be too heavy inside my stomach, and I will need to prepare to welcome him.”

They all nod, but you’re sure most of them don’t even realize the weight of your words. They will probably start crying when they understand you’ll leave for a while. That only thought breaks your heart. You love these little munchkins so freaking much.

“If you want,” you continue. “You can touch my belly and feel the baby kicking,” you suggest.

It might help them to understand the situation a bit more. As they stand up to walk towards you, you sit down on the chair to be at their level. Their small hands rest on your bump, and instantly, your little wolfy starts kicking. And then, an intense warmth spreads through your body. It’s your baby boy. He feels secure and safe, and he’s definitely enjoying feeling all this love.

“I can feel him,” one of the children screams with joy.

Their excitement and joy as they feel your son warms your heart. You only wish they could sense his energy the way you do because then they’d know just how happy he is. He may not be here physically yet, but his presence already feels so real. Looking at your little munchkins, your heart is overwhelmed with joy. This will forever be a moment engraved in your heart.

After that, you continued teaching them something new, and the day flew by quickly. At the end of the day, Jungkook waited for you at the school door. He has been doing this from the very beginning, and it’s honestly the highlight of your day. No matter what’s going on in the werewolf world, he finds the time to come pick you up at work. And that, you know it’s one of the many proofs of his love for you.

“I’ve something for you,” you say once you’re both in his car.

He narrows his eyes, seeming suspicious of what might be your gift.

 “What is it this time?” he asks, which makes you roll your eyes.

“By the way you’re looking at me, you’d think I always give you shitty gifts.”

“We never know with you,” he replies, lips twitching in amusement. “Could be a rock with googly eyes, could be an ancient family heirloom. There’s really no in-between.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you scoff. “I think it’s time we officially retire ‘King Jungkook’ and go with ‘Drama Queen Jungkook.’ It suits you better.”

“I’ll inform the council during the next meeting and let you know afterward which title they chose,” he ironically answers.

This man is unbelievable. He’s always in for teasing you, but you know that it’s his way of flirting with you. And, well, you only love to tease him back. It’s also your way of showing him that you love him too. 

“You know what?” you retort. “Next time, you’re getting a leaf with ‘fuck you’ written on it in glitter.”

“That’s original,” he laughs. “I guess I’ll hang it in my study so everybody will know what kind of gifts my girlfriend gives me.”

You roll your eyes, but you perfectly picture him doing it. It’d be funny to see a damn leaf with ‘fuck you’ on it in his special room.

“Now, I definitely want to get you that instead of what I’ve with me,” you smile at him.    

He laughs softly but leans closer, eyes curious now.

“Alright, alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, troublemaker.”

You shake your head at the nickname with the brightest smile on your face. You reach into your bag and hand him a small, wrapped object. His big hands grab your gift before unwrapping it slowly. It’s a leather journal, similar to the one he currently has.

Jungkook has always had a journal where he writes down his own thoughts. At ten, his father bought him his first journal and advised him to lay down whatever would cross his mind. At first, he thought that he didn’t need it, but when the first shifts started to be a nightmare, he started writing what he was feeling. Over time, it helped him face his emotions and the world.  

Every time he reaches the final pages, he buys a new one. Once fully complete, he places it in the library of his study to keep it handy in case he needs it. Sometimes, he opens one to read what he felt on a certain day of his life. For example, he’s been loving to reread the moment he realized you were his soulmate.

It warms his heart that you notice he’s reaching the last pages of his journal. It means more than he can even express. Even though you’ve caught him writing in his journal, he never realized you’d pick up on the little details.

The leather journal fits perfectly in his hands, his initials embossed on the cover. For a moment, he’s quiet, just running his fingers across the material. It is the first one that has his initials on it, and it will forever be his favorite one. Then he opens it and sees your handwriting on the first page.

“It’s so cool when I’m on my own,” he reads out loud, voice dropping slightly, “but it’s warmer in your arms.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, but his gaze lifts to meet yours, eyes softer now. Being in his arms is now your favorite place, and it reassures you beyond comprehension when he’s near you. And when he isn’t around, the world feels so cold.

“That’s really beautiful,” he murmurs. “You wrote this?”

You nod, feeling just a bit shy, but the way he looks at you—the weight of affection and awe behind his stare—makes your chest tighten in the best way. You wanted to leave a little note in his journal to remind him that you love him. Writing ‘I love you’ seemed so cheesy and so not you. So you tried to find something, and that sentence only made sense.

“It’s stupid,” you mumble.

“No,” he says, shutting the journal gently. “It’s not. It’s you. And that makes it perfect.”

Jungkook places the journal on his lap before passionately kissing you. There isn’t a day that goes by when he doesn’t feel grateful to have your love. It hasn’t been emotionally easy since meeting you, but he has never felt as much peace as he has lately.

Jungkook has been working in his study room for the past two hours. You ignore what he’s working on in there. The silence spilling from beneath the door is almost suspicious, especially considering that he usually spends these hours on the phone with other werewolves or alphas. But tonight? Nothing.

You don’t think too much about it. You’ve got your own work to finish, after all, tomorrow’s class isn’t going to prepare itself. To stay focused, you put your headphones on, drowning yourself in calm music to avoid eavesdropping or imagining whatever Jungkook is up to. It works, but only for a moment.

Once your lesson preparation is finally done, you stretch your sore muscles and head toward the living room, which, unfortunately, is right next to his study. Now that your brain isn’t occupied anymore, the silence from behind his door becomes harder to ignore. It's like calling you, teasing your curiosity.

You scroll through all the streaming apps possible, trying to find something to watch. You land on Ghostbusters: Afterlife, but you can't focus. The movie plays in the background, but your mind is in the study with him.

It’s the full moon’s fault. It was just last night, and your senses are still heightened. You feel raw, aware of every little thing about him. It's like your body has its own will and is tremendously drawn toward him. You shift on the couch, trying to resist the pull.

But the longer the silence lasts, the more tempted you are to give in.

Inside the study, Jungkook sits at his desk, completely still except for the quiet turning of ancient pages. The books spread out before him are filled with old lore and scattered, almost-forgotten histories. Most of them are in a script so faded that it takes him a second to make out the words. But he's patient. He’s determined.

He’s been taking notes in the new leather journal you offered him earlier today, and he’s been carefully underlining passages that mention rare werewolves, those born between two packs. Even though it’s quite normal to have mixed werewolves, it’s not really common. It’s actually even rare. Usually, pack members marry within their own pack. It’s quite rare for members of two different packs to marry and have children.

Based on what he got to read and what he knows, mixed werewolves are stronger than ‘normal’ werewolves, even though they naturally choose one pack at birth. But he doesn’t find anything about their strength in the womb, which is what he’s looking for.

So, it feels like it confirms what he and his family believe: your son is different. Powerful. Maybe even something the world has never seen. And he is actually convinced that it’s because there hasn’t been somebody like him. He’s a mixed werewolf and son of a king, and a hybrid. This is all uncharted territory for him.

And he wants to understand this. Not to control it; never that. But to protect him and to be ready. Becoming a father is already significant, but becoming a father of such a special being sometimes frightens him. So, he searches for whatever he can find to help him be ready.

As he writes down another line, he pauses, his head tilting slightly. He can feel you just outside the room, trying your hardest not to barge in.

A small smirk appears on his lips.

He knows you’ve been pacing back and forth in your mind, throwing on some random movie to distract yourself, but he can still feel that post-moon pull lingering in your chest, just like it is in his. That magnetic thread between you two, tugging and stretching thin.

You want to come in.

He hasn’t moved. Part of him wants to see how long you’ll last.

Another page flips. His pen glides against the paper.

Ten minutes pass.

Then fifteen.

And then…

A soft shuffle.

He hears the sound of your bare feet on the floor, followed by the faintest creak in the hallway. You open the door, finding him in the middle of books and writing in his journal. At first, you decide to wait until he looks up, but he doesn’t. He just waits.

And then, finally.

“Are you gonna ignore me or is this your new hobby?” your voice rings out from the doorway.

“Took you longer than I expected,” he smiles without looking up.

“Were you testing me?” your eyes narrow, but you can’t quite hide the small smile appearing on your face.

“I was working,” he says innocently, then finally lifts his gaze to yours. “You were testing yourself.”

“So, what top-secret king business are you doing in here that’s more important than being with your gorgeous, pregnant girlfriend?” you walk in, arms crossed but amused.

He chuckles, patting the chair beside him. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

And when you sit down and see the open books, the mess of notes, and the carefully highlighted lines, something shifts. The smile on your face grows bigger when you realize he’s been using the journal you gifted him.

“You’re doing this for him,” you softly say, your eyes scanning the delicate handwriting.

Jungkook nods. “If he’s going to be something the world’s never seen, I want to be ready. I want to understand what he might carry. What he might become.” He pauses. “And,” he adds, voice low, “I wanted to give you a reason to come find me.”

You bump your shoulder into his, trying not to melt.

“You’re such a tease.”

“You love it,” he says before kissing your temple. “Now help me understand this strange old sentence that seems like it was written by a drunk werewolf.”

You chuckle at his words, but you gladly help him out. And for the next hour, the two of you read some more books, trying to decipher what the eldest wrote. It’s not easy at all, but thankfully, there are also more modern ones that are way clearer.

“What is this?” you ask when a sentence in an old book catches your attention.

“Oh, it’s written in the old language,” he explains.

“Old language?” you frown.

“Yep, originally, werewolves had their own language called Lunari,” he begins. “Over time, we learned the ‘human’ languages to blend in. For a long time, we still kept talking Lunari, but we slowly stopped. The royal family still learns to preserve it and to be able to read ancient books. We are the memory of the werewolves. Some of them still learn it by curiosity, but nobody really practices it anymore.”

“Wow,” this blows your mind. “So, you can speak Lunari?”

“Yep,” he nods. “But I’m pretty bad at it,” he giggles. “Mingi, on the other hand, speaks it very well.”

“Why didn’t you ever mention it?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs with a crooked smile. “I guess I didn’t think it mattered much anymore. Nobody ever asks about it, and most days, I don’t feel very ancient,” he pauses for a moment, eyes softening as they meet yours. “But maybe I should’ve told you. It’s part of who I am. Part of what our son will inherit, too.”

“It’s okay,” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder. “But now I want to learn it too,” you smile.

His smile grows bigger, and his heart warms at your words. Even though you are part of this world, of his world, it still moves him that you want to be more involved in it. Learning Lunari will surely bring you even closer to this world.  

“Did your mother learn it?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “She’s never been interested in it, and for my father, it was the best excuse to get mad at her or to incite us to do silly things without her understanding anything.”

Jungkook is brought back to a couple of years ago. He was ten back then, his mother was pregnant with Mingi, and his father told him something he still remembers to this day.

“Your mom’s tired, so let’s not bother her,” his father whispered in Lunari as he got down to Jungkook’s level with a conspiratorial grin. “But if you sneak into the kitchen and bring me two pieces of cake, I promise to teach you the curse words in Lunari.”

Jungkook chuckles at the memory, his eyes bright with nostalgia. He still remembers how he discreetly waited five minutes in front of the kitchen to ensure his mom wasn’t there. And then, very very slowly, he grabbed two pieces of cake from the fridge. He then ran as fast as he could to bring them to his father, who was sitting in the same chair he’s sitting in now.   

He’d do anything to relive those sweet and funny moments with his father. They were so close.  

“He’d use Lunari to start little ‘missions’ with me. Mom didn’t stand a chance,” he shakes his head fondly. “It was his way of bonding. Of teaching the language without making it feel like a chore. He made it fun.”

Thinking about little ten-year-old Jungkook stealing pieces of cake for his father makes you smile.

“Well, I hope you’ll find creative ways to teach our son the language, just like your father did,” you smile at him.

“Don’t even doubt it, sunshine,” he winks at you. “Our son will master Lunari.”

“I really hope so,” you say.

Jungkook’s hands slide around your waist as you settle on his lap, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark.

“And I’ll find creative ways with you too, sunshine,” he whispers, his voice low and velvety.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you arch a brow, already amused.

He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dripping with teasing warmth.

“Well, Lunari’s a very physical language. There is a lot of body expression. Might need late-night lessons. Hands-on, of course.”

You let out a laugh, smacking his chest lightly. This is all bullshit. This is just Jungkook being flirtatious with you. You’re absolutely sure that this language isn’t physical at all.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he begins. “I’m just very committed to cultural preservation,” he grins, pulling you closer.

“Maybe you could already show me a thing or two,” you whisper as your fingers trace circles on his covered chest.

His hands on your waist instantly push your hoodie higher to reveal your baby bump to your boyfriend’s hungry eyes. He then tells you how ‘pregnant woman’ is said in Lunari, and it sounds beautiful. It definitely sounds like an ethereal language. How can it not be used anymore?

His fingers caress your stomach as his mouth finds yours for a heated kiss. Lunari words fall from his lips, and man, hearing him speaking in another language is hot as fuck. It’s just a massive turn-on. Why didn’t he ever talk to you about this language before?

“You’re so fucking hot when you speak Lunari,” you tell him, your eyes meeting his lusty ones.

“I’m always hot,” his tongue licks your lips.

“You’re so full of yourself, Jeon,” you clap back.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” his eyes are so damn dark that it almost makes you look away.

“Maybe you are,” you tease him.

His fingers move up to touch your heated face, the most devious smirk growing on his face.

“The heat on your face says otherwise.”

You roll your eyes, ready to leave his lap for being annoying, but his strong arms wrap around your waist, making it impossible for you to move. But it also allows you to feel his growing crotch against your leg.

“Where are you going, Jeon?” he teases you.

“I’m not a Jeon,” you hit his chest.

“Of course you are,” his voice takes a sweet turn. “You became one the second you got pregnant.”

This hot moment has suddenly taken a very heartfelt turn, making you pout. You can’t believe what he just said.

“And you’re a Y/l/n,” you tell him, your fingers ghosting over his sharp jaw.

“A proud Y/l/n,” he grins. “It’s even better than Jeon.”  

“You’re incredible!” you say.

His teasing and hot face suddenly becomes very serious.

“Would you like to take my last name when we get married?” he asks.

The question catches you a bit off guard because you never really talked about marriage. It’s like you already know you’ll get married one day, so there’s no real added value to bringing up the topic. But it’s still surprising to hear him talk about it.

The answer to his question seems quite obvious. His mother took his father’s last name when they got married, so you’ll have to do the same. These past few months, you got to see firsthand how traditional the royal family is. You’re not sure you’ll have much to say here. He’s the king, you’ll be his queen. Hence, you’ll take his name.

“Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” you reply with a small shrug. “You’re the king, and I’ll have to take your name, right?”

Traditionally, the queen always takes the king’s last name. Every queen before you has carried the name Jeon after marriage. It’s common in many cultures, but your mom never took your dad’s last name. People referred to her as Miss Y/l/n, but that wasn’t technically correct—not that she ever seemed to mind.

“Not sure if you know this,” Jungkook says, “but in our culture, the wife doesn’t take her husband’s last name. It’s our way of keeping a connection to our original families, even after marriage.”

You pause, surprised. It actually makes sense. Maybe that’s why your mother never changed her name either.

“My sister is still Jeon Dohee, even after marrying Namjoon, and he never expected her to change it,” Jungkook says gently. “But things are different for the king and queen. Taking the king’s last name is symbolic. It’s how you're officially recognized as the queen. It's like being crowned in name. But I’d never want to force you into it. In my heart, you're already a Jeon. The name doesn’t make that any more or less true.”

In all honesty, you never once thought about what would happen to your last name the day you get married. But now that Jungkook brings it up, it seems weird. Your mother never took your dad’s last name, even though they married before your birth. So you’re not sure of how things will go once you’re married to this man. However, if he really and deeply cares about you taking his last name, you’ll just do it.

“I’ve honestly never thought about this before,” you admit, your voice soft. “But if it matters to you, if it’s something tied to tradition, I’ll gladly take it. Carrying your last name doesn’t make me any less of a Y/l/n.”

 “I might sound like a very old guy, but I’d honestly love for you to carry my last name,” his fingers tug a strand of hair behind your ear.

You offer him a sincere smile before pressing your lips to his. You rest your head on his shoulder, lips still tingling from the kiss. For a second, you silently just breathe him in. His hands soothe your back, and being here with him simply calms you.

When you started this whole insemination journey, you never pictured yourself living any of this. You thought you’d be a single mother, discussing the baby’s bedroom wall color with Lexi and Felix. Finding love was never part of the equation. Finding love was actually the last thing on your mind. But then, Jungkook appeared and flipped your world upside down.

“If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be having this kind of conversation, I would have laughed in their face.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “I started this whole journey thinking I’d be a single mother. I was ready to do it alone.”

“With Felix and Lexi, you would have never been alone,” Jungkook whispers.

“I know, but I mean that I never expected the baby’s father to ever come into the picture. I never once thought that I’d be falling for someone. Let alone a king,” you chuckle.

Jungkook hesitates between giving a sarcastic answer and being serious. But he goes for the second option.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he begins, his voice low and warm. “I never thought I’d be falling for my son’s mom. But how couldn’t I?” Your head lifts up to meet his gaze. “Your soul is the prettiest one I've ever met. And the second our lives collided, I didn’t want to be just the father of your child; I wanted to be yours. I wanted to come into the picture. I wanted you to let me in, even if I had to fight for it.”  

A smile grows on your face at his words, while your heart totally melts.

“Well, hate to break it for you, but you fought for it,” you both chuckle. “You even accepted that we took it slow when we were seconds away from making love.”

“Aaah don’t remind me of that,” he shakes his head. “I had to finish by myself in your bathroom, and I thought that I’d die before you’d even let me in life.”  

You roll your eyes because he’s always exaggerating.

“What?” he exclaims. “We were fucking with damn clothes and then, you threw at my face ‘Aren’t we going too fast?’.” He tries to mimic your voice. “I definitely thought our son would be born before you decided we weren’t going too fast.”

You still feel extremely sorry for what happened that day.

“But, well, good news, you convinced me that we weren’t going too fast before our son was born.”

“Thank God,” his hands move to your stomach to stroke it. “Not sure Jungkook Junior would have survived all this time.”

You roll your eyes once more.

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“Drama queen is my middle name.”

You laugh and shake your head.

“Let’s see if it will also be our son’s middle name,” you reply.

“With me as his dad, there’s no doubt about it,” he teases you.

You wrap your arms around him. Honestly, you simply can’t wait for your baby boy. You can’t wait to hold him in your arms and love him unconditionally, just like the way you love his father.

“You’re really proud of yourself, aren’t you?” you murmur, your voice dropping as your fingers tease the edge of his collar, nails grazing just enough to make his breath hitch.

Jungkook’s eyes drag slowly over your face, then down your body. He smirks, the corner of his mouth curling like he already knows what you’re about to do.

“When you’re sitting in my lap like that, looking at me like that,” his voice is already filled with lust. “yeah, I’m damn proud.”

You shift your hips just enough to feel the way his body responds beneath you. You already feel proud of yourself for turning him on in seconds, but well, you’ve been teasing each other for a little while already.

“I thought royalty was supposed to be humble.”

He leans in, his lips ghosting your jaw, hot breath brushing your skin. Shivers run down your spine as he does so, and damn, this man has so much power over you. He could make you come right here with his fingers alone.

“I’m the king,” he growls, voice low and rough. “I take what’s mine.”

Your pulse races. “And what exactly is yours, Jungkook?”

“You,” he says without hesitation. His hands slide up your thighs, fingers slow and deliberate. “This mouth. This body. Every soft sound you make when I touch you like this,” he presses you down against him, your breath stalling.

“Careful,” you whisper, but your voice wavers. “You might start something we can’t finish.”

His teeth scrape your neck, just enough to make your skin burn and make you gasp.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, “I thought you already knew that I finish everything that I start.”

You gasp once more when his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your fingers grip his shoulders as his mouth returns to yours, hungrier now, tongue sliding past your lips like he’s starving for you.

And maybe he is. Because the way he holds you, the way he kisses you, it's not just lust. It’s love, wild and unfiltered, carved deep into every heartbeat between your bodies.

“Do you even realize,” he mutters against your lips, “how beautiful you are like this? Carrying our son. Glowing like the goddess you are. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Tell me,” you whisper, already breathless.

But Jungkook doesn’t tell you; he shows you.

You don’t remember when the kiss deepened, only that your hands are now tangled in his hair and he’s devouring you like he needs you to breathe. His chair creaks beneath the pressure of your bodies tangled together, his hands roaming like he’s trying to memorize every curve.

“Jungkook,” you gasp as he grips your hips and rocks you against him, his mouth trailing down your throat, leaving heat in every place he touches.

“Tell me to stop,” he mutters, lips brushing the hollow of your collarbone. But the way his voice sounds, low and hoarse, says he’s hoping you won’t.

“Why would I ever want that?” you breathe, tilting your head back to give him more access.

“You drive me crazy,” he says, sliding your hoodie up slowly, savoring every part of newly revealed skin. “You walk around here looking like sin and expect me to keep my hands to myself?”

“I didn’t say that,” you whisper, guiding his hand where you need him most. “I want your hands on me.”

His fingers brush over your clothed pussy, and a moan instantly falls from your lips. God, this feels marvelous.

“Good,” he growls. “Because I don’t plan on letting go.”

He kisses you again, this time slower, deeper. His hand slips beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers tracing your skin like he’s praying to something divine.

Your back arches as his name escapes your lips in a breathless moan, and it’s that sound that breaks whatever control he had left. He pulls you closer, anchoring your body to his like he wants to burn this into his memory forever.

And he will.

Because here, in the quiet fire of his study, you’re not just his lover. You’re the storm he chooses to get lost in. Again and again.

“Take off your pants, sunshine,” he whispers against your lips.

You don’t have to be told twice. You instantly stand up, removing every single piece of clothing left on your body. Jungkook does the same, not wanting to waste any more time. When he sits back down on his chair, his hand finds his tick shaft to lazily stroke it. He looks like pure sin like that, but man, you’d be lying if you say that it’s a sin you wouldn’t like to get lost in.

“You look so hot,” you tell him.

His eyes look up at you with pure filth in them.

“Don’t even get me started on how fucking hot you look, sunshine,” he says with a deep voice.

In no time, you’re sitting on him again. You remove his hands from his dick and guide them to your core that is craving his fingers more than ever. He instantly rubs his fingers against your folds, making you moan. You bite your lower lip, trying not to make too much noise, but it’s a lost cause.

“Fuck, sunshine,” he swears. “You’re so soaked.”

Your hands wrap around his cock, pumping it at the same pace of his fingers. Your gazes are locked in each other, his mouth opened as you pleasure him.

“Don’t muffle your moans,” he practically begs. “I want to hear every sweet sound you make.”  

“I don’t want the staff to hear us,” you admit, your breath hitching as his fingers work magic against your core.

A little chuckle leaves his lips before a mischievous glint appears in his eyes.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs with a smirk. “They’ve already heard us multiple times. At this point, I’d even say they take notes every time.

You gasp with surprise, your hands squeezing his dick. A strangled moan escapes his mouth.

“Jungkook!”

He just laughs and leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“What? I’m only giving them something to gossip about at dinner. ‘Did you hear yn again last night?’” He teases in a mock-serious voice. “‘Poor walls, they’re not built for royal passion.’” He continues.

One of your hands stops pleasuring him to swat at his chest, but he catches your wrist with a grin that spells trouble.

“I could always make it worse,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your jaw. “Be louder. Give them a real show.”

“Jungkook,” you warn.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then his lips move to your cheek, and then just beneath your ear. Each press of his lips is soft but promising something far less innocent. And honestly, you want him to ruin you, but you don’t want to make a lot of noise. It’s weird to imagine that the staff hears you while you’re making love with Jungkook.

“You sound like a horny teenager,” you laugh.  

One of his fingers slips inside your hole, his eyes glued to your face to catch your reaction. Your mouth hangs open while you try not to moan like a savage. Your hands leave his already hard shaft to balance yourself on his shoulders.

“It’s the yn effect,” he replies, his finger thrusting into you. “I could make love to you all day long and never grow tired,” he admits. “I’ve never felt like this before. I’m so damn addicted to you. And I want everybody to know it.”  

“Oh,” you moan while you shut your eyes. “Jungkook.”

“The way you moan my name,” he says while torturing you, “is the prettiest sound I've ever gotten to hear.”  

Without realizing it, you start bucking your hips, a trail of moans falling from your lips. You don’t manage to hold back even if you want to. This man knows how to pleasure you with only one finger.

“That’s it, sunshine,” he whispers against your ear. “Let them know how good I make you feel.”

His cock twitches due to the sight in front of him, his glowing, and pregnant girlfriend melting under the weight of desire. How on earth did he get so lucky to have you? What did he do to deserve you?

“Jungkook,” you moan once more. “I want to come around your dick,” you confess.

A grin grows on his face before he presses a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“As you wish, my queen,” his eyes look up at you while his finger stops torturing you.

His hands hold your waist while you eagerly sit on him, his cock splitting you in half as it makes its way inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, but more than welcome. Your walls curve and mold into the shape of his massive shaft. You grip onto his shoulders as he bottoms up. He stops once he has reached your cervix to give you both some time to adjust.

However, you don’t want to wait at all, so you clench your walls around him. His eyes open wide with surprise.

“Please move,” you beg.

“You could have just said it instead of torturing me,” he says.

“What’s the fun of it if I can’t torture you?” you tease him. “You can’t be the only one doing it.”

“You drive me insane,” he starts to move, slow and deep. “And I fucking love it.” His lips whisper against your ear. “But don’t forget who always wins in the end.”

And then, your man shows you no mercy. He thrusts up into you at an erratic pace, making you both moan incredibly loudly. On top of that, your skin clapping against his is also echoing in the room. Well, there’s absolutely no doubt that the entire household staff is aware of what you’re both doing.

Your breasts bounce, and Jungkook stares at how they perfectly move. He’s totally hypnotized by the way they move. He has noticed how bigger they’ve grown over the past few days, and he’s definitely not going to complain.

“Your breasts are so big now,” he whispers before burying his face in them.  

His mouth wrap around your left nipple and sucks it like there’s no tomorrow. This feels beyond overwhelming. His hard thrusts and his mouth on your nipple are too much. But you don’t care because the feeling is marvelous. It’s actually an exquisite torture, one you never want to stop.

“Blame it on the milk,” you manage to say.

“Eeeh, I’m not going to blame anything or anybody,” he admits against your nipple, his eyes looking up at you. “I’m the happiest right now.”

You chuckle, your fingers finding their way to his hair. Jungkook shows no mercy to you and fucks you hard and deep. Every thrust has you losing your breath and gasping when you inhale. You can only whine and moan, but Jungkook isn’t any better.

When you start clenching around him due to the growing wave inside you, his thrusts grow erratic. You know you’re extremely close to your orgasm, but you try to hold it back a little longer because you know that if you do it, it will taste even better when it hits you. You’ve gotten to experience it over the last times.

“Your pussy is so good,” he’s utterly consumed by lust.

His mouth leaves your nipples, and his hand slaps your ass which makes your hips buck. Honestly, you never thought you’d be into ass slapping, but man, every time he does it, you get wetter. He knows it, so he does it often.

But then, his hands hold your ass in place, and his feet plant in the floor so he can buck up, hitting your cervix so deep and hard that you’re squealing. He’s getting closer, you know it. You’re also very close.

“Shit, I’m so close,” you confess through moan.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Me too.”

Both of you are completely lost in pleasure, his thrusts now completely sloppy, while your moans are only getting louder. He slaps your ass once more, and without any warning, your orgasm hits you with an intensity you never experienced before. Fucking in a new place together with the extreme teasing must be the reason.

Jungkook follows you right after because of the way you’re pulsing on his shaft. His cock twitches before releasing his cum inside you. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer while you both get down for your orgasms.

Your breathing is still shallow, your bodies still locked together, but Jungkook doesn’t move away. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting slow, open-mouthed kisses along your damp skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice still thick from the intensity.

“I love you too,” you smile, your fingers combing gently through the back of his hair.

A few moments pass like that—hearts beating together, sweat cooling on flushed skin—before he finally, gently pulls out of you. He grabs a soft towel from the drawer nearby, the one he always keeps just in case, and carefully cleans you up.

“You have a towel here?” you furrow an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he shrugs as he now cleans his dick covered with his sperm and your juices. “I have to be ready in every room.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not my fault I can’t keep my hands to myself when I’m around you,” he admits.

He wraps his arms around you like you’re the most precious thing in the world before you press a chaste kiss on his lips. You snuggle in his embrace, eyes fluttering shut as you feel safe, warm, and utterly loved.  

“We should get dressed before we get cold,” he whispers.

“I don’t want to move,” you pout.

“Me neither, sunshine, but we have to,” he says, standing up while still holding you tightly before putting you down.

Once you’re fully dressed, you head to the bedroom to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Faster than expected, you’re in a special delivery room, pushing a baby out of your body. Jungkook is holding your hand while you scream in pain. Giving birth is quite painful, but you try to navigate your pain like the midwife told you. She’s even here, trying to help you.

Carrying and giving birth to a royal werewolf is kind of special. Werewolves don’t give birth at the hospital for many reasons. They give birth at home. However, the woman carrying the next heir gives birth in a place especially built for royal births. Apparently, it was built centuries ago on sacred werewolf ground. No heir has ever been born outside this sacred ground.

It’s a beautiful room, designed in a way that the woman could give birth in her human or wolf form. Everything in this space has been crafted with intention, from the smooth stones to the domed ceiling open to the sky, which allows the moonlight to flow in. On a night like this, under the Blood Moon, it casts a glow so red that it almost feels unreal. There’s no hospital beeping, no sterile walls. There’s just silence.

Well, except for your screams, Jungkook’s sweet and encouraging words, and the voice of the midwife who guides you through the birth. This is completely different from any birth presented on tv.

And even though you’re in pain, you find beauty in it. In this exact same room, countless queens before you stood, cried, pushed, and welcomed life. Jungkook came to life in this exact same room, which is very poetic. Every crowded werewolf king was born between these same walls.

This is where heirs are born. Where bloodlines continue. Where the old world and the new meet.

But tonight is even more special than any other night. Tonight it’s the Blood Moon. The moon is extremely red tonight, and it feels like the universe knew that the future king would be born tonight. The redness of the moon reminds you of the color of the Blood’s pack. The same pack that your son belongs to. Even the name of this type of moon alludes to the powerful pack of the royal family.

“You’re doing an amazing job, sunshine,” Jungkook whispers against your forehead.

You’re not exactly in the most glamorous position right now. First of all, you’re fully naked with your knees and hands on the floor and legs open. Anyone behind you is graced with the prettiest view in the world, but who cares? This is the position that helps you give birth to your little boy. This moment right here isn’t about being pretty, it’s about bringing a new life to the world. And all that matters is to be in a position that feels safe.

“I don’t know,” you start crying in pain.

“Hey, listen to me,” he says, his gaze locked with yours. “You’re pushing a little being from your body under a damn full moon and you’re doing it amazingly. It’s a lot of pain, I know, but you’re doing great.”

Ah yeah, the full moon. Normally, you should have already shifted, and both Jungkook and the midwife are expecting it at any moment. But so far, you’re still a human, and it seems like you’re not about to shift at all. You can feel it in your bones. Apparently, it doesn’t matter if you’re in labor. If it’s the full moon, you shift and give birth in your wolf form. It has happened to a lot of women.

The most surprising part, as well, is the fact that you’re not shifting under this type of moon. The Blood Moon is more powerful than any other moon, making it harder to shift. Even some Alphas struggle. Not Jungkook, though. This man definitely masters everything, which doesn’t surprise you at all.

“You can do it,” he smiles at you. “I believe in you, sunshine.”

Even though Jungkook doesn’t really feel the excruciating pain you’re experiencing right now, he’s trying to help you. This is a physical pain, one that he can’t comprehend as he’s not a woman, and because the bond doesn’t make him feel the physical pain. It’s mostly the emotional one. And that one, he feels it in every cell of his bones.

The midwife soothes your back, trying to comfort you as well. She told you she had three children, the youngest being fifteen today. Her second child was born during a full moon, and she had to go through the pain of childbirth and the shift. She thought she’d die. It was a pain like no other. She shifted during labor, and she gave birth to her daughter as a wolf. It’s definitely crazy, but you can only have admiration for this woman.

“You’re really doing great, yn,” she says with a soft voice. “Listen to Jungkook.”

“It hurts so much,” you say.

“I know, sweetheart,” Nari, the midwife, answers. “But very soon, your baby will be here with you, and the pain will then calm down.”

All you want now is for your baby to be out, but he’s been taking all his time to go down. It isn’t his fault; he’s actually also in pain. It isn’t just you; it’s him too.

Nari told you that babies suffer too during birth, and honestly, you never considered it, but it makes sense. When the waters break, there is nothing between you and your baby anymore. It’s literally bones against bones. And in the middle of that, your baby has to descend and move his little head to pave the way out.

The warmth that he usually gives you when you’re not well isn’t there anymore. There’s something else, and maybe that’s what accentuates your pain. You’re not sure. There’s just so much going on right now. Everything is over-stimulating. And this has been going on for hours now.

Five minutes ago, you reached the pushing part. Your baby is close; he’s almost here. It’s a matter of minutes or seconds before meeting your little boy. Before meeting the life you’ve been carrying for nine months. And honestly, that’s the part you’re the most excited for. That’s the part you’ve been waiting for since starting this whole insemination journey.

Your body is shaking under the pressure and the pain, sweat clinging to your skin, but your mind is solely focused on one thing. It’s on him. On your son.

You’re so close to finally meeting the little soul who’s changed everything. The one who’s made you stronger, softer, and more alive than you ever thought possible. You feel Jungkook’s hand caressing your face. His voice murmuring something low in your ear, something encouraging, but you can’t make out the words anymore. All you hear is your heartbeat.

And when the next wave comes, you push with everything you have left. Not just with your body, but with your heart. You push like it’s the last time you have to do it. Nari is behind you, trying to check on the progression, and then her words echo in your mind.

“I see his head,” she says with evident joy. “One more push, sweetheart.”

You’re uncertain if you have any strength left in you, but if one final push is what it takes, you believe you can do it. Every muscle in your body is trembling, your heart racing with pain and anticipation. Jungkook disappears from your line of sight, but he’s behind you now, steady and silent, ready to be the first one to hold your son.

The room feels suspended in time, heavy with energy. The world quiets. It’s just you, your body, and the tiny soul about to arrive.

Then it comes. The final contraction crashes over you like a tidal wave, fierce and unstoppable. Your hands clutch, your jaw clenches as you scream through it. You push, not just with your body, but with everything in you. With love, with fear, with fire.

And in that breathless moment, you feel it—your son sliding from your body, the final connection breaking. It’s more than just physical. It’s like a part of your soul detaching, only to be reborn in a new shape. He’s no longer just yours alone. He’s himself now. A tiny, living being. A legacy. A future.

For a brief moment, the room is filled with silence while Jungkook catches your son. This silence seems impossibly long for you, but extremely short for your boyfriend, who watches your baby with absolute wonder. The baby you’ve both been longing for so long.

Then, the silence is suddenly shattered by the sound you’ve been aching to hear—a cry. Sharp, strong, impossibly real. Your baby is finally here. Your baby has finally left your body after all this time.

Tears form in your eyes instantly. You don’t even realize you’re crying until your vision blurs. Jungkook lets out a sound; a broken breath, part laughter, part disbelief. He now holds your son in his arms for the first time since it all started.

“He’s here,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “He’s perfect.”

“You can turn around,” Nari tells you while she rubs your back.

With shaky legs and with the help of Nari, you finally sit, and when you finally get to see Jungkook with your son, your heart instantly melts. Your boyfriend’s eyes look up to meet yours, and he gets closer to you to rest your baby in your arms. The second he’s rested against you, his cries calm down, your warmth reassuring him.

You hold him extremely tightly against you. It feels surreal. It feels like you’re in a dream. Your eyes are glued on your son, and you never want to look at anything else than him. Tears keep running down your face, but this time, it isn’t due to the pain. It’s due to the extreme love and joy your heart is experiencing right now. You don’t even notice Jungkook standing next to you and looking at the two of you.

“Let’s place you in a more comfortable position,” Nari informs you.

Both she and Jungkook guide you to a little place behind you. You remain seated, but your back is now pressed against a soft material. Your legs are wide open, the umbilical cord still connected to your body. For a little while, you stay like this. Jungkook sits next to you, his impressive hands caressing the top of the baby’s head.

“Okay, it’s now time to push the placenta out,” Nari tells you.

She hands a pair of scissors to Jungkook to cut the umbilical cord. You never let go of your son, too scared that he might disappear if he isn’t in your arms anymore. But you have to hand him to his father because the placenta needs to leave your body. After a couple of pushes, it’s out. Now, your belly feels empty. There isn’t anything there anymore. And you feel a little pain in your heart. You got used to feeling your son inside you, and he isn’t there anymore. He’s in his father’s arms.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook sits down next to you once more after Nari took your baby to check him up.

“Dead,” you honestly answer. “I’m destroyed and I feel empty too, but my heart has never felt this full of love.”

Jungkook’s hand gently strokes your thigh, and you rest your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes as you feel yourself slowly falling asleep.

“How does it feel now to be a father?” you ask, already half asleep.

“I became a father the second you got pregnant,” he says. “But now that I've gotten to meet our son, my heart is about to explode with love. I’ve never fallen in love this way.”

You’d like to say you’re offended, but you feel the exact same way. The second you laid eyes on your son, you fell in love with him. It’s a kind of love you’ve never felt before. It’s so pure and so strong at the same time. When you hear Nari getting closer to you, you open your eyes. She’s walking back to you with the brightest smile on her face.

“I’ll let you discover his pretty eyes,” she says as she places your baby in your arms.

Both you and Jungkook gasp when you see his beautiful eyes. Unexpectedly, he doesn’t have one eye color. He has two. One eye is blue and the other is red. He doesn’t belong to one pack only. He’s part of both. He’s a Shadow and Blood. 

“It’s so pretty,” Jungkook whispers. “I’ve never seen anyone being part of two packs.”

“Seems like he didn’t want to choose,” you smile. “He wants to be both at the same time.”

“And that’s why he’s already strong. He got the best of both worlds.”

“It’s a first time,” Nari intervenes. “Nobody has ever belonged to two packs, and I’m already so proud that our future king will belong to my pack,” her eyes meet yours, “to our pack.”

Nari is a Shadow. When it came to giving birth, you didn’t want just any midwife. You wanted someone who understood you, who spoke the language of your blood and instincts. Someone who could guide you not just medically, but spiritually too. If something were to go wrong, she’d know what to do. It gave you peace, and that peace is what brought you here.

“And let’s not forget he also belongs to the humans,” Jungkook adds gently. “He carries human blood too.”

You glance at him, heart swelling. Your son is already so special, not only because he’s your son. He’s a hybrid, a Shadow, a Blood, and a future king. A future king with roots deeper than tradition, broader than bloodlines. He carries so much already, and he’s only a couple of minutes old.

“Yes,” you whisper, your mind drifting to your father.

For a moment, you think about your parents. Your mind brings back your father’s smile and your mother’s warm laugh. They would have been overjoyed. Their grandson would’ve been spoiled with stories, hugs, and the kind of love only grandparents know how to give. You know they’re watching, wherever they are. You hope they’re proud.

Even though they won’t physically be present, they’ll be in your heart. And your baby boy is lucky to have Felix as his grandfather. He’ll grow up with him and will call him grandpa, but you know he’ll grow up with stories of your parents. Just like he’ll grow up with the stories of his grandfather, Taemoo.

“And what will be his name?” Nari asks, her voice cutting gently through the stillness.

You smile. The question lingers in the air, heavier than expected, not because it’s unexpected, but because this moment feels sacred. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your closest family. You and Jungkook decided early on to keep it secret, away from opinions or superstitions. This name wasn’t up for debate. It was chosen, not by trend, not by suggestion, but by instinct.

“Kai,” you say simply.

Nari’s eyes brighten, her smile wide and genuine.

“A unique name for a truly unique child,” Jungkook adds, pride clear in his voice.

You glance at your son, swaddled and sleeping peacefully, as if the world hadn’t just shifted around him. For the longest time, he was supposed to be Minho, a name you both adored. But the moment he made his presence known, strong and certain, you realized he needed something different. Something rare. Something that fits.

Minho was sweet. But Kai… Kai felt like destiny.

Maybe Minho will be the name of another son one day. But this boy? This boy was born under a Blood Moon, in a sacred place, with shadows and royalty in his veins.

Kai was always meant to be his name.

“It’s a sweet name,” Nari answers.

“Thank you,” you look up, your eyes meeting hers for a moment.

It’s extremely unreal to realize you just gave birth to the next king. It’s already surreal that you’re dating one, but now? Now, your blood runs through royal veins. Your lineage and Jungkook’s, once separate, are forever bound together in the heart of a child who carries both your worlds.

Bloodlines entwined, not just by fate, but by choice. By love.

After a little while, Jungkook carries you back to the main house while Nari holds Kai. You have absolutely no more energy left in your body. It’s like Kai sucked it all up while joining you. And your boyfriend doesn’t want you to make any more effort tonight.

“Can you please take care of him while I help her take a bath?” Jungkook asks Nari once inside.

“Absolutely,” she answers.

Jungkook’s arms hold you very tightly as he makes his way to the bathroom next to your bedroom. First, he lays you down on the bed and then disappears to turn the water on. You’re slowly falling asleep, and you’re internally battling to keep your eyes open, but it’s extremely hard. You desperately need to sleep.

Nari, on her side, is in your son’s room. It’s the room right in front of yours. You’ve prepared and decorated it before your baby’s arrival. To your eyes, it’s the prettiest room in this house.

When the bath is filled with hot water, your boyfriend comes back. A smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re in the exact same position.

“You haven’t moved,” he comments.

“I’m too tired, Kook.” You don’t even have the energy to say his full name.  

His hands remove the blanket covering your body before holding you once more. He lays you in the hot water, making you gasp as you feel it surrounding your sore body. Jungkook sits on the floor, his eyes filled with so much pride.  

“Thank you,” he whispers, his fingers tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thank you for being such a wonderful and powerful person.” Your eyes look up to meet his. “Thank you for giving birth to our son. Thank you for making me a father,” his eyes are glowing like never before. “Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world.”

“You don’t have to thank me, angel.” Your hand finds its way to his cheek to stroke it. “We’ve done this together.”

“I feel so grateful to have you,” he says. “But now that you’ve given birth to Kai, I feel even more grateful. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so damn lucky that fate made you my soulmate. Life before you felt tasteless. You’re literally my sunshine, and I’m so in love with you. Even more now that I got to witness this incredible moment.”

Something has changed in Jungkook, you can see that although you’re extremely tired and half awake. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but he’s definitely glowing. Tears start forming in your eyes as he pours his heart out for you.

“You’re going to make me cry, Jungkook.” Your hand never stops soothing his cheek.

“Marry me, yn,” he blankly says.

Your eyes widen, your hand instantly halting. Even though you knew it would happen one day, because of the soulmate bond, it catches you by surprise. You didn’t expect to hear those words on the day you’d deliver your son.

You always imagined the proposal to take place a bit later on, maybe in two years or something like that. You thought that it would happen around a romantic moment that Jungkook would have planned weeks before. He would bend down on his knee with a velvety box in his hand, and a beautiful ring would be on display.

“Jungkook…” you whisper. “Did you really just ask me to marry you while I’m floating half-dead and asleep in a tub, and bleeding?”

“There’s no version of you I’d love more than this one.”

You shake your head softly with a little smile on your face. Your boyfriend is being extremely adorable, and you feel so thankful to have him in your life and have him as your baby daddy.

“You should’ve waited,” you begin. “You should’ve waited a least a couple of days or waited until I felt like myself again.”   

“I couldn’t wait, sunshine,” he says, his voice low and steady. “What happened today…. I’ve never seen anything more powerful and more beautiful than you today. You brought our son into this world. You made him.”

He leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead. Your eyes instantly close to savor this moment.  

“Seeing you here after giving birth to our son, it just feels like it’s the right moment. Any other moment won’t ever feel as right as this one. You, looking like a sleepy goddess who just conquered the world, are exactly who I want to annoy for the rest of my life,” he smiles while you open your eyes again to look at him.

Jungkook brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles, his warm mouth contrasting with the room's cool air.

Your heart swells in your chest, emotions flooding in all at once. You’ve just brought life into the world, and now Jungkook is looking at you like you hung the moon. After everything, after the hours of pain, fear, and wonder, his words wrap around your heart like silk, softening the sharp edges of exhaustion.

And it hits you all over again: this is your person—the one who’s seen every version of you and still chooses you wholeheartedly.

“Marry me. Not because it’s tradition or timing. Not because we had a child. Marry me because you're my home, and because we were written into each other long before we ever met.”

“You’re really going to ask me to marry you while I’m naked, bruised, and leaking all sorts of fluids?” You smile through your exhaustion.

“You make leaking look ethereal,” he grins.

You groan and laugh at once. “God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

And he’s right, you don’t. You love him with all your soul. You love him enough to say the one word that makes his whole world stop for a moment.

“Yes.”

His breath catches. He blinks once, twice, then leans in to kiss your temple like you’re the most sacred thing he’s ever touched.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin.

“Yes, Jungkook.”

He rests his forehead gently against yours.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life thanking the moon for you.”

When you open your eyes, you’re graced with the prettiest view you’ve ever got to witnessed. Jungkook is holding Kai tightly in his arms and is rocking him while singing a lullaby. You never knew that you needed this in your life. For a brief moment, his eyes meet yours, and a wide smile appears on his face.

“Mommy is finally awake,” he sings to your son.

Nari stayed the entire night to help you out. It was more than a struggle to stay awake, and you actually fell asleep in the bath while Jungkook was cleaning you. But then, you woke up several times with your son’s cries, and you even started to breastfeed him after several failed attempts.

Jungkook woke up as well and made sure you’d fall asleep right after nourishing your baby. He wanted you to sleep as much as possible because you went through a physically traumatic experience. Your body needs to recover from it, and it starts with getting as much rest as possible. So basically, he was mostly the one taking care of Kai. And you’re absolutely thankful for that.

“She is the most special person in the whole wide world,” he continues. “She’s my lover and your mommy. We are both so lucky to have her.”

You can’t help but smile as you hear him sing. For a moment, your eyes take in the sight in front of you.

Jungkook stands shirtless, his chest rising and falling steadily as he cradles your baby against him. His strong arms cradle Kai with such ease, the quiet strength in his touch wrapped in a tenderness that steals your breath. It’s a contrast so beautiful, it tugs at something deep inside you. His hair is all over the place, and the faint dark circles beneath his eyes tell you everything you need to know—he barely slept last night, too busy taking care of both of you.

This sight feels like a dream you never knew you had. If this is how you’re going to wake up every day from now on, then well, you won the damn lottery. Honestly, you won it when Jungkook entered your life and showed you what true love is. Throughout those past nine months, he stood by your side, braved every storm with you, and held your hand through it all. Kai is lucky to have him as his father.  

“She’s the strongest woman I know,” Jungkook hums softly, his eyes still on Kai. “She brought you into the world with so much courage, and somehow, she still looks like an angel while doing it.”

“I probably look like a wreck,” you laugh lightly, your voice raspy from sleep.

His gaze meets yours, his smile softening. This version of you is one he never saw coming, yet he’s fallen harder than he ever imagined. To him, you're breathtaking. You’ve just brought life into the world, and despite the exhaustion etched into your features, he sees nothing but beauty and power.

“You look like the prettiest wreck.”

That causes your face to warm, and your eyes sting with the sudden wave of emotion. You shift slightly under the covers, your body still aching, but your heart overflowing. The postpartum period won’t be easy, you know that. It’s already quite painful to move in bed, but you have to take it slow. Jungkook is by your side; he even took some time off from his royal duties.

His mother, Jisoo, is actually going to step in to manage everything else while you and Jungkook settle into this new chapter. He won’t be fully stepping away from his duties, but for as long as you need him, you’ll be his only priority. He wants to help you, and he also wants to be a present father for Kai. There’s no way he won’t be present in the first moments of his son’s life.

Jungkook walks over to the bed, still holding Kai, and kneels beside you. Your eyes look down at your baby, who looks absolutely perfect.

“We missed you,” he murmurs.

“I missed you both too,” you whisper, reaching out to trace your finger gently along Kai’s tiny cheek. “I still can’t believe he’s here.”

“Me neither,” Jungkook confesses. “But it feels wonderful to have him here. I don’t want to ever let go of him.”

Your hand moves up to stroke your boyfriend’s cheek, and his eyes instantly flutter shut. His face leans into your palm instinctively, and it feels like your skin is the only anchor he needs. For a moment, neither of you speaks—there’s no need to.

Everything you’ve been through, everything you feel, lives in the quiet between your breaths. You trace the curve of his cheekbone with your thumb, and when his lashes finally lift, his gaze is soft and reverent, like you’re the most sacred thing he’s ever seen.

Your boyfriend then places Kai in your arms before he stands up and sits next to you in bed. Your eyes land on your baby. The most beautiful and perfect being you’ve ever seen. His tiny, round nose reminds you of his father’s. His full cheeks remind you of yours in that portrait your grandparents have. And in all honesty, you feel like your son looks a lot like your mom.

“He’s so perfect,” you whisper while your finger gently traces over his nose.

“He is,” Jungkook whispers near your ear.

Your boyfriend rests his chin on your shoulder, the two of you completely hypnotized by the little life you created together.

“He’s incredibly perfect because he takes a lot after you,” Jungkook’s words echo in your mind. “It almost feels like I didn’t contribute at all in here. He’s just a tiny and mini version of you. And man, that makes him even prettier.”

“He has your nose,” you answer. “And your eyes.”

“Only one,” he smiles.

It’s still so disturbing to have a baby with heterochromia, especially since the colors are extremely different. Red and blue.

“I’m not speaking of the color,” you shake your head. “I’m talking about the shape.”

“Other than that, he just looks like you.”

“I think he looks a lot like my mom,” you admit. “Remember the pictures my grandparents showed us?” Jungkook nods. “When I look at Kai, I see the one taken a couple of hours after my mom was born.”

Now that you said it, Jungkook can’t unsee it. Your son definitely takes after your mom, but your boyfriend is still convinced Kai is a mini version of you.

“But he also looks a lot like you, sunshine. When I look at him, all I see is you.”      

Slowly, Kai opens his eyes. Although it’s weird to see two eye colors, it just suits him. It makes him even more perfect.

“Seems like you’ve decided to shake our world completely, little prince,” Jungkook speaks out loud. “Being a hybrid wasn’t enough,” his finger strokes his cheek. “You also needed to belong to two packs,” he pauses for a bit. “You’re just like your mother.”

“We decided it was about time that things changed over here,” you answer with a bright smile on your face.

Your son’s eyes move from you to Jungkook, and it feels like he recognizes you. And then, out of the blue, you both feel the warmth Kai used to spread while inside you. His strong powers already echo around you, enveloping you in a protective shield.

“This little man is definitely going to change everything,” Jungkook says with evident emotion in his voice. “Look how powerful he already is.”

“He’s the result of bloodlines entwining,” you answer. “He carries the blood of Bloods, Shadows, and humans.”

Kai is living proof that mixing blood isn’t a weakness—it’s a strength. A strength that ancient werewolves tried to suppress. And the more you think about it, the more it seems that those old rules weren’t about protection—they were about fear. Fear of what could happen if bloodlines entwined. Fear of power that couldn’t be controlled. But now, with your birth and Kai’s, that fear looks small. Outdated. Because you both are proof that the bloodlines don’t need to be pure. They need to be united.

“In the end, keeping the bloodline pure only made us weaker,” Jungkook mumbles.

“And Kai is the proof of it.”

Kai’s birth was announced to the entire werewolf world within hours. The birth of the next king was celebrated across continents, and the Shadows bowed to the heir who carries their blood. The moment you heard it, you cried.

News of his heterochromia was also announced, marking him as the first werewolf chosen by two packs. A miracle. A first. His dual heritage surprised everyone, and now you’ll have to figure out what that means for his future. But that can wait.

Right now, all that matters is him. Your son. The tiny miracle you carried, birthed, and now hold in your arms.

Jungkook’s family and your family, meaning Lexi and Felix, are all gathered in the biggest living room of this palace. Instead of having your families come one by one to visit you and meet Kai, you decided to invite them all together. You’ve also done it because it’s going to be the first time humans and werewolves are together in the same room.

You also can’t wait to catch their reaction when they see Kai’s eyes. While pregnant, you explained this eye thing to Lexi and Felix so they wouldn’t be surprised when they meet your son for the first time.

Both you and Jungkook are head over heels over Kai. He’s been crying a lot, sleeping a lot, but he’s absolutely adorable. You’ve never been this happy. This journey as a mother has been going much better than you expected when you decided to get inseminated. Being a mother with a father by your side is even better than being a single mother. You get a shoulder to cry on when it’s too much.

When you and Jungkook enter the room with Kai in his arms, all the heads turn to look at you. A smile grows on their faces. Dohee’s kids aren’t present yet, but they’ll get to meet their cousin later on today. Both Felix and Jisoo take a step closer to lay eyes on their grandchild for the first time. You can see a tear running down Felix’s cheek, and man, it does make you feel emotional.

“Mom, Felix,” Jungkook begins, “this is Kai, your grandson.”

At that moment, Kai opens his eyes as if he knows he has to reveal himself to his family. They both gasp as they see with their own eyes the blue and red in their grandson’s eyes. They are totally aware of it because you told them when announcing your son’s birth. It’s something you couldn’t hide from them.

“It’s impressive,” Felix whispers as he gets closer to run a finger over Kai’s cheek.

It definitely makes you extremely emotional to see him become a grandfather. Kai is so lucky to have him as a grandpa because you know damn well Felix will cover him with so much love. Your son won’t ever get to meet your birth parents, but he’ll grow up with the person you chose to call dad.

“It really is,” Jisoo adds. “This little baby is already so special.”

Your son has been special since the day he was conceived. Born to a king and a hybrid.

“Let me see my nephew,” Lexi rushes to your side.

She holds your hand before squeezing it when she lays eyes on her nephew.

“Damn, he really took after you,” her eyes meet yours. “He’s as beautiful as his mom.”

“For once, you’re acknowledging my good looks,” you tease her.

“And it’ll be the last time,” she smiles. “But you both did a great job with this little munchkin. He’s really handsome.”

As Jungkook’s siblings gather around you as well, Kai suddenly shields you and Jungkook, trying to protect you from your own family. They all feel this invisible energy, even Felix and Lexi, who aren’t werewolves. His family struggles to fight it, and their urges to shift.

“It’s okay, little man,” you whisper as you caress his sweet little face. “They are family.”

It’s weird to feel his protective aura all the time. You’ve never experienced something so strong, but you’re so proud at the same time for creating this powerful person. Experiencing it during your pregnancy is one thing, but it’s a totally different now that he’s out.

“Wow, this little guy isn’t joking,” Mingi says. “He’s only two days old and already displaying his powers.”

Honestly, this scares you as well. Your son might be perceived as a threat, and some people might try to do horrible things to him. The first person that crosses your mind is Yuna. She never accepted his existence because of who you are, and because he’s the son of the man she still loves.

“Don’t worry, sunshine,” Jungkook speaks to you through thoughts. “We’ll protect him no matter what.”

“I know, but what if it’s not enough?” Your eyes look up to meet his.

“He seems to be proving he can protect himself and his loved ones.”

“But he’s so little,” you add.

“Look around, love,” he continues. “All these people love him and will protect him. I totally understand you, but I prefer to believe we will all protect him and never let anyone harm him. I don’t want to think negatively.”

Your eyes look at all the people in this room. You don’t doubt the slightest that they’ll do everything in their power to protect him. Jungkook’s family is one of the strongest in the werewolf world. People don’t really stand a chance against them, and they will most probably not stand one face to this little powerful being. But as a mother, you can only be concerned.  

Jisoo notices that you’re speaking through thoughts, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t want to ruin whatever conversation you’re having. But she can tell you’re concerned about something. She guesses that it’s about your son’s strength.  

Slowly, Kai’s protection fades away.

“How can he do that? How can he know who to protect at such a young age?” Hyunjin asks, baffled.

“We’re not entirely sure,” you admit. “We know he recognizes me because I carried him for nine months. Maybe he hasn’t fully realized he’s no longer inside my body.”

“As for me,” Jungkook adds, “we think he recognized my voice, maybe even sensed me through the soulmate bond.”

“We also believe he recognizes us through blood,” you continue. “Like an instinct—he feels that we share the same blood. But that’s just speculation.”

“We read so many books about mixed bloods, and every one of them said something different.”

Felix helped you decipher a few of the more ancient texts. Thanks to his background in old languages, he managed to translate fragments that spoke of blood recognition—that mixed-blooded children can identify their lineage through something deeper than scent or voice. It’s wild to think about, but those same texts claimed their strength is tied to that very connection.

Everything is so uncertain with Kai, but as he grows up, you’re sure you’ll get to understand it better. Kai is unique, and until he has another sibling, no one else will be like him. Since Kai chose to belong to two packs, any possible child you might have will also belong to two packs. It’s something you've gotten to learn through those many ancient books. All mixed-bloods siblings choose the same pack.

“Well, we’ll learn with him,” Jungkook adds. “Kai is different in every possible way, so we’ll figure everything out through him.”

And you already know that it’s going to be a bumpy road. You’re in the dark with him, and you’ll have to navigate parenthood with his uniqueness. For sure, it won’t be easy, but you’ll have Jungkook by your side, and you’ll shower this baby with love. He’s never going to feel different, although he is.

With Felix and Lexi, he’ll learn to embrace his human side. With the Jeon’s family, he’ll learn to embrace his wolf side. With you, he’ll learn to embrace the best of both worlds. And with Jungkook, he’ll learn to embrace his destiny as the next king. Kai is never going to be alone.  

“And we’ll be by your side,” Jisoo says. “He’s never going to be alone with all of us.”

“Let’s not focus on that right now,” Felix says. “He was born two days ago, and we should celebrate him. He’s absolutely adorable,” his eyes look down at his grandson before he caresses his cheek. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, little man. I’ve been waiting for you for over a year now.”

It’s probably been almost two years since you started this insemination journey, and Felix has been there from the very beginning. Nothing went as planned, but in the end, your baby is finally here, which was the original plan. The project was to have a baby, and he’s here.

“I can’t believe I’m an auntie now,” Lexi says. “I’m going to spoil this kid and be the best auntie ever.” Her eyes look at Dohee. “Sorry, I’m just too fabulous.”

You roll your eyes before shaking your head with a smile on your face.

“You’re incorrigible!” you say.

“You’re starting a competition here, Lexi,” Dohee retorts to your sister, “and I’ll smash you. Kai will adore me more than you.”

The two of them are so silly, but you can’t wait to see how it will be once your baby is older. There’s no doubt he’ll love them both so much, although it’ll be different.

“Luckily, he only has paternal uncles and we don’t need to compete with anyone else,” Mingi chuckles.

“You’re all too crazy,” Jisoo says. “You’re going to traumatize this little one.”

“His parents are already doing that,” Hyunjin replies.

“Eeeh,” you say.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow and smirks, rocking Kai gently in his arms. You can already sense that he’s going to say nonsense. It wouldn’t be Jungkook if he didn’t do it. This man always has an answer to all, even if it’s bullshit.

“Excuse you all, but I am clearly his favorite. I’m the one with the good hair,” he says, flipping his hair dramatically like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “He was born obsessed with me.”

The room erupts with laughter, and you shake your head. This man is incredible!

“Delusional,” Lexi fires back.

“Absolutely tragic,” Dohee adds with a snort.

“That’s the sleep deprivation talking,” Mingi says, shaking his head.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on any of you,” Jungkook shrugs, unbothered. Then he leans in toward Kai, voice soft but teasing: “Don’t worry, little prince, I’ll protect you from your dramatic aunties and uncles.”

After that, you spend the next hour with your family. All of them carried Kai in their arms for a little while. They are all absolutely in love with your little man, like you and Jungkook. Who can’t fall in love with him?

Once they are all gone, you place Kai in the little crib and sit down on the couch. You’re exhausted, dead, and very much sleep deprived, but extremely happy. This family moment filled your heart with so much joy and happiness.

“We did it,” Jungkook says. “We had the little baby we wanted.”

“And we found love in the middle of the journey,” you continue.

“That’s the best part of it all,” he chuckles.

Jungkook gently presses his lips to yours, kissing you with so much passion. Your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck while his hands land on your waist.

“Let’s have more handsome babies,” he whispers against your lips.

“Eeeh, give me some time to recover from this birth,” you answer. “And then, I’ll give you as many babies as you want.”

“Really?” his eyes sparkle, and he’s absolutely adorable.

“Yep,” you nod.

Jungkook’s grin grows wider. This man is up to no good. It doesn’t even surprise you because he’s always such a tease. But that’s how you love him so much.

“Dangerous words, sunshine,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers brush slow, lazy circles on your waist. “You can’t just offer me a whole army of mini-us and expect me to behave.”

You laugh, your nose brushing his. To be honest, it feels great that nothing has changed between you two despite becoming parents. You were afraid that everything would become different, but except for the part that another person is living in this house, things are pretty much the same with Jungkook.  

“I said after I recover, Mister Drama Queen.”

He leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear now.

“I’ll try to behave, but no promises. You know what you do to me,” his breath is warm, his tone deliciously suggestive.

Your fingers tug lightly at his hair again, lips curling into a smirk. Of course, you know the effect you have on him, but you have still to recover from this birth. Your kid ripped everything inside you when you were pushing him out of you.

“Behave, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch. And Kai’s sleeping in our bed now, so good luck trying anything, Your Highness.”

Jungkook groans dramatically. It’s definitely weird for the two of you to have a third person in your bed. It feels so small now, but you wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“You’re evil. Beautiful, irresistible… and evil.”

You bite your lip to suppress your smile, fully aware of the effect you have on him.

“Welcome to fatherhood.”

Jungkook rests his head on your shoulder, your hands threading slowly through the softness of his hair, the two of you tangled in this hazy, post-baby bubble. The living room is quiet now, just the soft hum of nighttime settling in like the world itself is holding its breath for you.

“You really are going to make me work for those future babies, huh?” you feel him groan against your shoulder.

You giggle softly, your fingers still gently tangled in his hair.

“Parenthood’s a long game, mister. You better pace yourself.”

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, and suddenly, all the teasing fades. His eyes carry that look again. The same look you always fall in love with.

“I’d wait a lifetime if it means doing all of it with you,” his fingers trace invisible lines on your cheek.

And just like that, something inside you shifts. A rush of memories floods in. Memories of who you both were before this love, before the baby, before the chaos and healing and magic that brought you here. There were days when you weren’t sure you’d ever feel this full. But now, it feels like your heart has stretched to hold two lifetimes at once.

“You’re really trying to charm me right now, aren’t you?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Is it working?”

You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Always.”

His arms wrap a little tighter around your waist, pulling you just close enough for your head to rest against his chest. You can hear his heart—steady, strong, and completely yours.

“Then let me be this version of me forever. Just a man in love with his girl and wrapped around her finger.”

You laugh into his neck, comforted by the heat of him, by the home you’ve built in his arms.

“Careful what you wish for, Mr. King. You might end up changing all the diapers.”

“Worth it,” he replies without missing a beat, planting a kiss on your temple. “For you? I’d do it all.”

You smile into his chest, letting yourself melt for just a moment longer. Being in his arms is your safest place. It’s where you belong now. There’s no other place you’d like to be right now. Being with Jungkook was always your destiny, and man, thinking about spending the rest of your life with him feels wonderful.

Very soon, you’ll probably get married, and hopefully, more babies will be added to the mix. You’ll get to witness Jungkook as a father and as your lover, something you’re definitely looking forward to. It feels like you can’t love him even more than you do now, but you know that tomorrow, you’ll love him more than you do today. It has been like that since the day you first met him at the clinic.

That day seems so far away when, in reality, it was nine months ago, but so much has happened since then. You've got to discover yourself. You’ve got to discover the truth behind your parents' relationship and death. You’ve got to meet your grandparents. And you’ve got to meet the love of your life.

Today, you’d like to visit your old self. The ten-year-old version of you who lost her parents. You’d hug her, hold her tight in your arms, and cry with her. You’d tell her that everything will go just fine. You’d describe your life and let her know that, one day, she’d be incredibly happy. Maybe she wouldn’t believe you because of the pain, but she’d eagerly wait for that day to come.

Life didn’t treat you well at some point, and you still have to deal with the pain and emptiness you constantly feel. But today, you have Jungkook and Kai. They won’t for sure heal you and fill that void, but they’ll ease the pain.

In the end, the tragic end of your parents has shaken the whole werewolf universe. Your presence alone changed an ancient law, and one day, you’ll get to wear a crown. One that Jungkook will place on your head. You know that if your parents had the chance to know back then what you’d become, they would have died in total peace. They’d have most probably been proud to know their grandchild would become king.

Kai is the result of many bloodlines entwining together. He’s the result of a love story between a Blood King and a Shadow hybrid, but he’s also the beginning of that love story. Without him, maybe today, you wouldn’t have met Jungkook yet. Maybe you’d even spent years before meeting him. It’s crazy to think that Kai is the reason you’re together today.

As you look at Jungkook and Kai, your heart swells with so much love and pride. A smile grows on your face as you reflect on your life. You reflect on what has been the past thirty years of your life.  

You survived. You loved. And now, you live for all three of you.

[rotapathetic]

taking care of 𓂃 rafe cameron while he’s spiraling

⟳⠀ a little inebriated rafe ⟳⠀after an argument with ward

⊹ you blinked into the open space of your room, slowly collecting your coherence as you listened to the voice over the phone. it took a second to realize you were hearing rafe mumbling, not sounding like himself. you quickly jolted up in bed at his quiet, but frantic words.

“i just don’t get why everything i do goes unnoticed.. unappreciated. i saved him. she didn’t do anything but run off and betray us. i got the cross. i killed that sheriff for him. me, rafe.. i don’t understand what happened with us..”

it broke your heart to hear his voice crack. you nursed your phone against your cheek, letting him get everything out. where was he? did his words sound partially slurred or was that your still half asleep mind? but you were so glad he called you in a moment this vulnerable. after months of being with rafe, he had a habit of keeping his feelings in and not letting you into his mind. despite this, you constantly told him you were always there if he needed an outlet.

you heard a dry chuckle across the line. “he even tried to blame you. my precious girl.. does he know how much i didn’t know i needed you? he can’t even begin to understand the love we share. he doesn’t have someone to take care of him like you do with me. he crossed the line when he mentioned you.. i just lost it..”

you placed a hand over your mouth, letting his words and current state settle in. you couldn’t let yourself get focused on ward’s thoughts of you. you knew he wasn’t a good man. you knew he didn’t deserve rafe’s respect. after months of knowing this, and knowing the fights he and rafe got into, never was it like this. this truly was breaking you.

you softly sniffled, not realizing you were getting worked up. “it’s okay, baby. it’s okay to let out that frustration. i’m so proud of you for letting yourself feel it. i’m even prouder you called me. that’s so good, rafe.”

you heard him breathing over the line, not speaking for a second. you took this opportunity to find out his whereabouts.

“um.. do you know where you are right now? can you see any signs?” you got up, walking to your closet to throw on a jacket and slip on a pair of shoes, waiting for him to answer.

it was another second of silence before he responded quietly, prompting you to listen closer. “i needed to hear your voice. i know you told me you’d be an outlet, but i didn’t think i’d have to use that outlet, but i needed it..”

you paused after grabbing your keys, listening intently, clinging on to his every word.

“..i needed to hear you. that makes everything better. i can’t see you right now, and i can’t let you see me, but i needed to feel you somehow.”

you slightly panicked at rafe telling you, you couldn’t see him. “rafe, i already see you even if i physically can’t. but i would really like to see you. do you think you could tell me where you are, handsome?” you didn’t let your voice portray your desperation too much. you didn’t want to let him know he was worrying you. then, he really wouldn’t let you go near him. not if he knew he was making you scared.

you could hear chatter grow louder around him as he answered. “i..” he pushed out a heavy sigh. “..i’m not disappointing you, am i? because i.. i won’t tell you if you’re disappointed in me right now. i’ll fix it.. i’ll fix myself and give you time to think.. i can’t have you upset with me..” he voice broke off softly at the end.

you were out of your room and outside, heading towards your car as he finished his sentence. “rafe, i think it’s impossible for me to feel anything diminishing about you. that feeling doesn’t exist inside of me. there is nothing, rafe, you could do or say that would make me view you differently from the caring and gentle hearted man you are.”

you were pressing on the gas, making your way toward where you knew rafe was without him having to say it.

this time it was him that sniffled, and you couldn’t grip the wheel tighter at the sound. he affirmed your thought of his location after a beat of still silence from his side.

“this might be impossible for rafe cameron, but can you please stay still?” you softly chuckled, attempting to lighten the tone, panic easing from you now that you were making your towards him.

“yeah, i’ll try” was his muttered response.

you were pulling up to the restaurant a few minutes later, rushing out of your car and looking around for rafe.

it wasn’t long before you spotted him outside at a high rise table, his head hanging slighty over his arms that were pressed atop of the table. standing tall, and standing oddly still. doubt didn’t dawn on you that rafe would listen, but him literally holding himself still was something you weren’t expecting. you softly shook your head, walking up to him.

he saw you from his peripheral, but sensed you before he actually knew you were approaching. turning his head, his expression couldn’t seem to turn softer and his posture more relaxed.

his face started to crumble, and you quickly reached around him to pull him into a hug, tugging his head down to rest on your shoulder.

you couldn’t feel the clawing and gripping of his hands as he tried to hold you inhumanly closer. only relief that he was in your arms now, and not afar over the phone.

“i’m sorry..” he softly uttered into your top. “..i’m sorry you have to see me like this.. but it’s messed up that i don’t care. i needed to feel you, to touch you, even if it meant you seeing me this way..”

you dug your face into his side, willing your eyes to not produce the tears you felt coming on.

“i can’t.. i won’t let go. you’re gonna leave if i let go, and you can’t leave me. you can’t..”

he spoke so softly you knew it was a thought that he didn’t mean to say out loud.

you reared back, pulling up his head to face you. the sorrow in his eyes felt like the last tug at your heart to finally pull it from its strings.

“i’m never letting go, so you can’t.”

rafe’s arms came down, his hands both cupping over one of your hands. you took it as the sign rafe was ready to leave. was ready to only be near you.

you turned, walking back towards your car, feeling his hands tighten. you went to open the passenger side for rafe when he pulled you back, halting you.

you turned towards him to ask what was wrong when he pulled the back door open instead. he nodded his head into the opening, gesturing for you to climb in first. you did so, not once letting his hands slip from your one. rafe was right behind you, closing the door behind him.

you laid your legs out, letting him settle between them and rest himself against you. he was holding you up to your promise of never letting him go.

you wrapped your arms around him, listening to his breathing. he had done so much talking, it was time for you to return it.

“you’re perfect to me. for me. if no one else can see your worth, they’re not worth your time, rafe. there’s nothing for you to be sorry for. i am so, so glad you called me. it doesn’t hurt seeing you like this as much as it would hurt to know you were going through this alone. there’s nowhere i would rather be than right here with you.”

rafe settled closer into you, always needing to be so close to you it seemed as if you shared the same skin.

“i don’t need anyone but you. i only need you seeing me and really knowing me.. can you just hold me for right now? please.”

as if you would ever deny him. “of course. whatever you need.”

it was a second before you heard him mutter something, not aware he was responding to what you said.

“just you.”

[lol-im-done]

Overactive Empathy

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x Nurse!Reader

Summary: A story of an ex-army doctor still haunted by his past who strives to maintain control of his emotions and a nurse with a sixth sense for the emotions of others that everyone has come to rely on- will a traumatic event force them to confront their true feelings for each other or pull them apart forever?

Tags/Warnings: age gap, yearning, too scared to admit they're in love, empath!reader, angst, panic attacks, comfort, descriptions of blood and pittfest, trauma, happy ending

Word Count: 4.3K & AO3 link

Author’s Note: This may not be everyone’s cup of tea but I could not stop thinking about writing this. I also have absolutely no medical knowledge so enjoy! 

The Pitt - Night Shift

The faint beeping of monitors and clicks of the keyboard mesh with the sounds of patients and staff. The fluorescent lights aren’t the only thing landing on your skin, you feel his stare from chairs away. It doesn’t make you uncomfortable, quite the opposite, it sends a warm feeling rushing through you and when you peek up you catch sight of his silver curls twinkling in the light. 

Dr. Jack Abbott can’t help it, after two years of working alongside you he doesn’t get tired of tracing the slope of your nose or watching the way you bite your lip in concentration. He stopped trying to be discreet a long time ago even after repeatedly being caught by Dr. Robby or Dr. Ellis. You’re both snapped out of your thoughts by the sirens approaching the ambulance bay. By the time the EMTs enter the Pitt you’re standing next to Jack at the ready. 

“Man in his late sixties- disoriented and aggressive. He was distributing patrons outside of a nightclub and eventually someone knocked him down,” the EMT summarized as they wheeled in the man who was strapped down to the gurney. He wasn’t saying anything comprehensible, only letting out grunts as he attempted to free himself. 

“Psych eval?” Jack tilts his head. 

“Yup, no ID or other identification found with him. Probably homeless and off his meds,” the EMT replied. 

“Give me a moment with him,” you step forward, not entirely convinced. Jack’s eyes narrow slightly at the patient who began to twist in his restraints again. Unease grows in his gut but he learned a long time ago not to question you. 

“Don’t get too close to him yet, we may need sedation.” 

He stands at the door watching the interaction closely, his body taut in preparation to intervene. The soldier inside him never left him, those instincts embedded into his bones. 

Slowly you approach the older man, quietly assessing him. Jack watches your hand hover over the patient’s arm for a moment, but what you do is still a mystery to him. 

Eventually it becomes clear to you what he needs. “You must be very tired and thirsty. It’s been a long day,” you murmur softly. This made the man go still, eyes widening as he nodded urgently. He was mute, everything he wanted to say stuck inside him at this moment but his emotions were clear. 

“We’re here to help you,” you give him a reassuring smile as you back away towards the door. The moment you turn, you’re face to face with Jack. You force yourself to stay concentrated on your task and not on Jack’s handsome features. “He’s not homeless, he feels lost and he misses home. He’s also extremely thirsty, so he’s dehydrated which is why he was disoriented and acting out. He wasn’t able to ask for help because he’s mute,” you explain. 

“Not a Psych case then,” he concurs, impressed once more. 

“The usual tests will let us know how dehydrated he is and if there’s other underlying causes. This is a case for the night shift social worker to help with, they just need to find out who he is and where he lives. I think he has family,” you reach for the IV kit. 

“Thanks Sherlock Holmes.” 

There’s no malice or sarcasm in his tone, just his usual dry wit which you’ve come to love. You can see the wheels turning in his head and although he’s never asked questions, you know he keeps trying to figure out how you’re so good at reading patients. 

Intuition, your grandmother winked at you one day when you asked if she had what you had. A curse, your mother declared before she had left for good, not able to handle what she was born with. Overactive empathy was what you had come to call it. It had been overwhelming at first, discovering that as you got in close proximity to someone you could identify their emotions and feel them yourself, all of them. It took many years to build up your control to a point where you felt you could be around people. Out of nursing school you spent your first few years in hospice care, holding the hand of those making their way out of this world, watching the hazy colors around them fade into nothing. Soon the time came to try something new and you found yourself standing in the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center Emergency Department, hoping to make a difference and make use of your ability in a new way. 

It was an open secret, the little trick you had up your sleeve. No one put a specific label on it and on one questioned it. Anytime you interacted with a patient who needed that extra level of support, with a simple glance or press of your hand to their shoulder you seemed to read their emotions to a tee. It had also helped de-escalate potentially dangerous situations, preventing many fights in the halls of the Pitt. In this world, it was all about the patient and being able to read them was an asset. Their feelings and experiences are half of the story when they walk in through the doors. 

Grabbing your backpack from your locker you take your time walking back to the nursing station to clock out. It gives you time to admire Jack who stands at the counter, his blue eyes flickering across the screen. Dr. Abbot - the broody, stalwart and incredibly selfless man who captured your heart. Not that you would ever admit it, you were years younger and convinced he could do much better. What catches your attention is his posture, he’s leaning heavily against the counter hoping no one can notice his discomfort. 

“Is it bothering you again?” you whisper as you stand next to him. Jack grimaces as he flexes the prosthetic foot under his khakis, internally kicking himself for showing a trace of weakness.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he grits out. 

“Liar,” you muse, swiping your badge to clock out for the night. 

His face turns stoic as he stares you down, intimidating as hell to others but not to you. You stare right back, waiting until one of you inevitably cracks. His dimples pop out as he lets out a hearty laugh. Several people send you curious looks, an Abbot laugh was rare. 

“It's not fair if you use that trick on me,” he pretends to sound mad. Not that you would ever intentionally violate his privacy by delving further than his surface area emotions. 

“It’s not like I can read minds.”

“It’s close enough.”

“I don’t have to use anything on you Abbot. It's clear as day.”

He feels that familiar swoop in his stomach at your words, forcing himself to not say anything stupid. 

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here, just in case you pick up another shift,” you tease, finally starting to walk away. He winks at you and you feel like you’re floating on clouds all the way home. 

The Pitt - Day Shift

Today was a never ending roller coaster and it was going to give you whiplash. Angry patients, argumentative family members, interpersonal drama, fucking rats. Then Dana had gotten punched, which had rattled all of the nurses. It had brought you to tears seeing her bruised face and bloody nose, your mentor and dear friend. She had shushed you in a motherly fashion, assuring you and everyone else she would live long enough to finish the shift as long as she had another cigarette. 

It was also the first day for new residents and medical students, another layer to the never ending day. You took it in stride as always offering helpful advice and keeping an eye on them for Robby making sure they didn’t mess up too badly. Some had already latched onto you, King and Whittaker frequently asking you to join them on patient care. 

You could immediately sense that today was an off day for Robby, as you assisted with his difficult cases you could see the strain behind his eyes and his increasing use of the word fuck. He also kept asking you about what the patients were feeling long after they had died. It wasn’t a good sign. 

“Is he asking you about dead people again?” Dana hands you a cup of tea. You nod. 

“Christ Almighty he’s a morbid one,” she shakes her head with a sad smile. “Wish Collins hadn’t left early, she knows how to get him back on track.”

....

“Do you think he feels anything? Even if he’s brain dead?” Robby asked you as you stood side by side, about to enter to give the parents of the overdose victim the final verdict on their son. 

“No...he doesn’t feel anything. There’s nothing,” you replied truthfully.

“What do you think she felt while she drowned?” he asked as they wheeled the young girl's body out of the trauma room. You think back to when you had held onto her tiny cold hand as they worked to bring her back. 

“She felt scared and exhausted but she also felt certain. Certain that she had saved her sister.”

Robby finds comfort in your candidness to his morbid questions, you’ve always been honest with him and a shoulder for him to lean on. He knew he was being extra hard on you today and he would apologize with your favorite snack by the end of the shift. 

None of this compared to what came next. 

“What’s going on?” you can feel the anxiety spike in the room as phones and pagers go off. Gloria is talking to Robby and Dana on the side in a serious manner, their faces pinching with worry. Shooting, Pittfest, mass casualties, are words that fill the air. It seems to suck the oxygen out of the room, a sobering reminder of the world you lived in. Taking a deep breath you steady your nerves as instructions are being shared to the whole team. Suddenly a familiar warmth settles next to you, calloused hands brushing against yours. 

“You okay?” Jack asks quietly. 

“I’m fine...but all of those people that are going to come in-,” you shudder at the thought. 

“You don’t have to, you know, get too close to them if it gets too much,” he finally faces you as people start to rush around you. With his eyes trained on you it feels like you’re both in your own world for a moment. 

“I know, but I want to help them. Anyway I can,” you reply, eyes filling with determination. It reminds him why he does this job, why he comes back. 

Reality breaks apart your bubble as Dana calls out your name and Robby pulls Jack towards the team of doctors. Everything after that is a whirlwind, a mass casualty event hitting an already understaffed ED like a hurricane. Every ounce of training is in use as you work tirelessly alongside your colleagues to save every life that passed through those doors. It soon becomes clear there's not enough blood, medications or supplies. Only sheer willpower will get you all through this. 

“Everyone please use the sedatives and morphine sparingly! More is coming but it's minutes out!” Dana shouted from the nurses station. 

Following her announcement, a flurry of movement caught your attention in the Red Zone. The patient was thrashing on the gurney, arms flying around wildly as she shouted in pain, begging them to stop from pressing against her broken legs. Without hesitation you rushed over, hands slipping into the fray until they pressed against the woman’s face. Jack watched as you brought your head closely against hers, eyes scrunching tightly in concentration. 

“You feel tired, so tired,” you repeated softly over and over again.

Slowly her shouts became nothing but disgruntled murmurs, her eyes closing and arms falling sluggishly at her side. No one else seemed to notice what you had done, preoccupied with her impending blood loss and shattered bones. Jack could do nothing more than send you a grateful nod before you slipped away once more to assist on the next patient. 

Unfortunately she had not been the last patient you had helped calm down, dozens more streamed into the Pitt in various states of emotional distress and you did your best to keep them from overwhelming the rest of the staff. It was starting to wear you down, drain your energy reserves as you still ran from zone to zone, arms full of supplies and bags of blood. Dry blood mixed with your sweat caked your arms, and your lungs burned from the smell of antiseptic and alcohol in the air. Give me strength, you begged the universe. 

You had been standing by the ambulance bay doors, replenishing supplies for the Red Zone when another wave of gurneys and patients flooded in once more. You hadn’t even had a chance to set down the IV bags in your hands when a tall man stumbled straight into your body. Blood stained hands clasped onto your shoulders with such force you could feel the bruises start to form. His eyes were wild and he kept repeating someone's name over and over. Time seemed to slow around you as his emotions flowed into your body like a dam had broken- hair raising panic, paralyzing fear, and pain that brought you to your knees. Your vision swam, all you could see now was bodies piled upon each other and hear the cries of those hit by the spray of bullets. A high pitched ringing filled your ears and your throat was suddenly raw. 

Your ear splitting screams snapped Jack out of his concentration, his heart lurching at the scene before him. He barely had time to make sure Dr. Mohan had a handle on the patient before he was running full speed towards you, Robby at his side. The man was ripped away from you by Robby and one of the security guards who wrangled him onto a gurney. All you could do was cover your eyes as if that would stop the horrific visions in your head. 

“Look at me, you gotta breathe (Y/N),” Jack begged as he stood in front of you, hands hovering over your shoulders not wanting to make it worse. His heart was beating a million miles per minute and he felt as if he was staring in the mirror, the traumatized medic in the throes of a panic attack staring back at him. Except now it was you. 

You shook your head, stumbling backwards blindly into the wall. There was only one option he could think of at that moment. Without missing a beat, Jack grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you over his shoulder as you let out another desperate cry. The whole Pitt had frozen, shocked at the turn of events. 

“Get back to work dammit!” Jack roared, making everyone flinch as they rushed to return back to the task at hand, averting their eyes. 

In a few strides he made it to the end of the wing and into the empty on-call bathroom, slamming the door behind him with his foot. By this point you had gone limp over his shoulder, letting out the occasional whimper. He set you down lightly onto the shower floor, hand reaching up to the shower knob. 

“I’m sorry baby but it will help I promise,” Jack couldn’t stop the term of endearment from slipping out. 

You seemed to be stuck in some sort of trance, another agonizing scream slipping past your lips as you hunched over. Suddenly ice cold water flowed from the shower head hitting your body in a forceful gush. A high pitched gasp filled the air as your eyes flew open from the shock. Shivering hands immediately reached out to find Jack’s arms, needing something to ground you as the temperature of the water numbed your frayed nerves. 

“Jack.”

“You’re safe, you’re in the bathroom now. You’re not there,” he assured you, hand smoothing your drenched hair out of your face. Tears swam in your eyes and you nodded numbly, trying to reorient yourself. His hand settled on your cheek, watching the water pour down your red cheeks. Even now, he thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  He was only a few short seconds away from climbing into the shower with you when the door squeaked open. 

“Dr. Abbot, they need you out there,” Princess frowns as she takes in your state. He gives her his harshest stare, about to protest but you push his arms weakly. 

“Go,” you say. “Princess and I will handle it from here,” you look up at her. She gives a nod of affirmation. 

“I’ll get her cleaned up, Dr. Abbot,” she promises, reaching for towels. 

I need to stay with you and protect you, he wants to say to you. I can’t live another moment without you. 

So many unsaid words stuck in his throat. Jack wishes you would just look into him and decipher his emotions so he wouldn’t have to say them out loud. It wasn’t the right time, it never was. He couldn’t stand risking everything you had just to lose you if you didn’t feel the same way. Instead of staying as his heart begged him to, he stands, ignoring the pain in his leg as he walks out without a word feeling like a coward. 

Your heart squeezes painfully as you watch Jack go but you can’t stop him. By the time Princess helps you change into clean scrubs it feels like hours have passed. She stays silent the whole time, giving you space as you rebuild the mental blocks in your head. Eventually you walk out onto the floor which is still wet with blood, doctors and nurses running to and fro with urgency. Sirens blare in the distance without stopping. Smoothing your hands over your new scrubs you hoped you looked better than you felt. 

“Go home,” Robby’s baritone voice is the first thing you hear. 

“I don’t believe you can send me home Dr. Robby,” you glance up at him. He looks absolutely wrecked, likely the same as you. 

“Dana-,” he turns to Dana who is by your side next. Dana knows you well, knows you wouldn't be standing here if you couldn’t handle it. 

“I can’t force her to leave Robby. Trust that she knows her own limits,” Dana squeezes your hand. You squeeze it back in thanks. “We still have patients to help, let’s go kiddo,” she guides you back into the disaster zone, arm over your shoulder.  

It’s when the emergency protocol is finally at an end and the last Pittfest patient is stabilized that you spot Robby again. Robby had been walking on a tight line today, Leah’s death finally pushing him over the edge. You had heard the terrible things Jake had yelled at him moments ago. 

“Hard day yeah?” 

“For both of us I’d say,” he laughs dryly, tears beginning to leak once again from the corners of his eyes. 

“You’ve shouldered the burden of so much today Robby. Let me help you,” you extend your hand to him. 

“I can’t do that to you,” he shakes his head, knowing what you’re offering. 

“This may be the only time I offer this to you Robby. Trust me,” you say. He shifts uneasily in place before finally making his decision. He takes your hand. The colors around him darken, his frustration, grief, anger and disappointment swirling around him like a storm. 

“Go home soon and sleep. It will come easy tonight,” you say. Robby feels a warm sensation run up his arm, filling his chest with a lightness he hadn’t felt in years. The tension in his shoulders visibly eases and he feels like he can properly breathe again. Before he can thank you, you’re gone. 

You hand found a quiet space in the supply closet to unwind, taking advantage of the day shift and night shift switching places. Sitting in the dim room you allow the events of the day to wash over you, taking steadying breaths to settle your emotions. Then you would find Jack and hope he didn’t look at you differently like you were something that had been crushed into tiny pieces. 

You hadn’t left Jack’s mind since he had left you in the shower, your screams echoing in his mind. Compartmentalizing all of his emotions and stuffing them into the back of his mind was the only thing that kept him sane for the remaining shift. The moment he finally handed off the last patient to Shen and Ellis he was on the lookout for you. Unable to find you yet, Jack makes his way up to the roof as he does after most shifts, muscle memory taking over. He’s not surprised to see Robby staring at the city skyline from the ledge. 

“I think I finally understand why I keep coming back now,” Jack calls out to Robby. “It's in our DNA. It's what we do. We can't help it. Not everyone can do it, it takes a special type of person,” he says, thinking of you. 

“Maybe you, not me,” Robby shakes his head as he steps back onto the roof. 

“What are you talking about?” Jack’s tone is incredulous. 

“You know damn well what I'm talking about. I broke. I shut down. At the moment everybody needed me the most, I wasn't there. I couldn't do it. I choked,” Robby hangs his head.  

“Don’t say that you broke in there because if that was you breaking apart then that means (Y/N)-,” he stops himself, unable to finish the sentence. “You’re not broken, you’re just human. We all are.”

Robby sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“You’re stronger than you think. She’s stronger than she thinks. Just because you both got overwhelmed today doesn’t mean you’re broken, not even close,” Jack says. “I used to think there was a weakness in feeling too much. Never allowed myself to cry or grieve even when-,” he pauses thinking back to his time after he came back from the army, what had happened to his ex wife and her untimely death years ago. 

“This is starting to sound less like a pep talk and more like you need to go find her,” Robby crosses his arms. Jack remains silent, running his hand through his messy curls as he paces back and forth. 

“What are you going to do Jack? It’s been months of you pining after her. We all saw it on that karaoke night-.”

“Don’t even,” Jack scowls at the memory which makes Robby laugh for the first time tonight.  

You had been singing alongside Dana and McKay, your smile infectious as you swayed your hips to the beat. Jack had scoffed at the idea of karaoke night with the team but seeing you up there, he was entranced by the lights making your skin shimmer, your smudged lipstick and sweet voice. The only thing that snapped him out of it was watching a young guy approach you with a shot and a flirtatious grin. It had taken both Robby and Shen to hold him back, dragging him back to the booth by the scruff of his neck. 

There wasn’t anything more to say so they descended back down to reality, one step at a time. By the time he and Robby exit the Pitt doors, there was only one thing on Jack’s mind. 

“You gonna grab a beer with us?” Robby asks as they cross the street but he already knows the answer. 

“I have to do something first. Something long overdue,” Jack stations himself at the entrance of the park. 

“Fucking finally,” Robby claps his shoulder. “Tell her I said goodnight.”

“I heard you’ve been asking her about dead people again, not cool man!”

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll make an effort to stop that,” Robby throws his hands up before disappearing into the park. 

Jack steels himself in place, waiting and praying he hadn’t missed you. His instincts were correct as usual, you soon appeared before him with a tired smile gracing your lips, backpack hanging off your hand. For a moment the only sound is the wind rustling through the trees. Slowly he takes measured steps closer to you, until he can see the small scar on your top lip. You take the moment to admire the freckles that adorn his nose and cheeks. You were nervous seconds ago, but not anymore. 

Finally Jack speaks. “You wanna know what I see when I look at you?” he whispers, his strong hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I see the woman that I love, who makes me want to live life, not just survive it. I see a woman with the endless capacity to help others, the strongest person I know.”

“I- you saw what happened to me today. It may not always be easy,” your voice is thick with emotion. 

“You know me better than anyone, it won’t be easy with me either, but we have each other.”

“That’s all I need - you.” 

Lifting yourself on your tiptoes you press your nose to his, your lips hovering over one another. Electricity crackles between you, months of yearning and unspoken tension threatening to break free. His muscular arm wraps around your waist, tethering you to him. 

“Come home with me, where you belong.” 

“I thought you’d never ask,” you whisper. 

Then something blooms in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time - hope. You can see the fuzzy color around him lighten into a beautiful blue color, like the sky on a sunny day. 

“Feel it with me?” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, letting the mental blocks down momentarily. The moments your lips touch bursts of colors fill your mind and you feel it all. His love encompasses you, his hope for the future with you and passion makes your skin tingle. 

“I love you Jack Abbot.”

“I love you more."

[suni-writings]

Take the pain away.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc: 2.2k

+18!! mdni

(content warning: unrequited feelings, cheating [unrelated to jude x reader], toxic relationship [also not jude x reader], smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])

it's been a while since i wrote a jude smut, but you ask and i shall deliver. we have been waiting for this one. heavily inspired by "fuck the pain away (lost tapes 2022)" by tory lanez.

He was exhausted. Not because of football, not because of fame, but because of his best friend. Being physically exhausted was something he was used to — Jude could get rid of it in a few weeks if it resulted in some type of pain. Emotionally, however? He was clueless as to how to heal it, especially since time did nothing but deepen his feelings towards her. It messed up his head, his thoughts got foggy, and he seemed to act out of impulse whenever he was around her. Nothing could really stop him when she was next to him, and that was his doom.

Well, that and her boyfriend. Her hideous, stupid attempt of a man of a boyfriend, whom did nothing but make her feel bad and cheat on her. She wasn’t the girl Jude used to know anymore — the fierce one, who everyone would be scared to even look at her the wrong way. Somehow, that manipulator managed to get her undivided forgiveness every time. It was a never-ending cycle, one that was tearing his mind apart. He was always the one to rescue her, until that dumbass showed up again, promising to be different and acting like a prince for a week.

That night wasn’t any different. The moment his phone vibrated in his pocket and Jude saw who sent the message, he already knew what it was about. And, despite being tired, he still walked up to her house, because she had him at his mercy. He wanted nothing more than to see her okay again, to be her sunshine of her rainy days.

Even if for a single moment only.

She had left the door unlocked for him. Jude carefully got inside, taking a deep breath. He could hear her sobs coming from her room, which he carefully walked up to.

“Princess?” Jude called out softly.

Even in the darkness, he could see her hands coming to dry the tears in her eyes. She sat up, still sniffing, and he sat next to her. He caressed gently her face and wiped another tear.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly.

“What’s the point? You already know what happened. It’s what always happens.” She let out a humorless chuckle and sighed. “I’m sorry. I probably look like shit right now.’

Bellingham took a moment to look — more like admire — her face. Red glimmering eyes, puffy nose, the bite marks on her lip to avoid crying. She still looked breathtaking.

“You look like a mess, honey,” Jude smirked. “But still pretty as ever.”

She gave a small smile, that quickly turned into a grimace, and she looked at him.

“I feel so weak, Jude. I don’t know why I keep letting this happen, I don’t know why I’m so—” she stopped midsentence and laid in bed again, holding back her tears. He was next to her, supporting the weight of his body on his elbow. “Please, take this pain away. I can’t handle this anymore.”

He took a deep breath yet again. There’s not much he could do, and all his options sounded selfish; even if it was for her own good, it also benefited him. Like leaving that project of a man for once and all. He slowly took strands of her hair out of her face, gently outlining her cheek. He avoided looking at her lips, because he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially with her this vulnerable.

“I’m here, princess. What can I do for you?” Jude asked quietly, toying her hair between his fingers.

“Take the pain away.” She begged again and looked into his eyes.

She had no idea how much Jude wanted to do that.

“I can’t do that. I’m not him, I can’t fix his mistakes, but I can—” he bit his tongue when he realized he was about to say too much; to act selfishly, to prove her she could do better, to give her a taste of what she could have.

A few moments of silence fell between them and her eyes searched for his. She leaned closer, as if she got the hint. As if she wanted it too.

Jude could be her temporary relief, he didn’t care. If he could help, he would.

Who was he trying to fool? If he could have her in any way, he would.

“Fuck the pain away. I could fuck the pain away, baby.” He whispered as he looked at her in her beautiful, almost translucent nightgown. “An eye for an eye. Give him a taste of his own poison. You say the word, I’ll do it.”

She leaned even closer to him, her hand gently resting on his face as she caressed his cheek. She bit her lip, thinking. She was desperate, and Jude was right there for her.

If her boyfriend could do it, then so could she.

Without a second warning, to Jude’s surprise, her lips crashed into his, hastily seeking relief. When their tongues touched, she was in a frenzy, and everything started to get blurry.

All she could think was the way Jude kissed and bit her neck, the way his warm tongue descended to her collarbone and threatened to go even lower. The way she tugged, on Jude’s hair, not wanting the moment the moment to end, needing more of his kisses. Of his burning touch.

“Need to take this off, princess.” He muttered against her collarbone, holding the hem of her nightgown. She nodded and stood her arms up so he could easily remove it. “Making this all so easy for me.” He said once he saw her breasts and tossed the nightgown away, biting her nipple before gently sucking it while caressing the other with expertise.

She was already panting. In a single attempt, he brought his covered knee close to her core, and the damp in her panties was undeniable.

That only fueled his anger. That bastard had her and didn’t touch her properly.

His mouth left her breast and moved back to her neck, sucking and biting it while his hand descended to her core and she her back almost arched in anticipation; if he knew she was that touch deprived, he would’ve suggested that a long time ago.

With his hands underneath her underwear, he pressed two fingers against her clit and moved them slowly, pressuring further to see the way her chest rose, the way her cheeks flush and how her mouth opened, too scared to make a sound.

So, without warning, Jude inserted the two fingers inside her and moved them fast, curling them until he found the spot that made her back arch, and the room became filled with moans. He kissed her throat, his mouth vibrating with each moan that came out of her mouth. His movements were precise, fast, and with an urge to prove something that, before he could realize or properly enjoy what he was doing, her walls were closing against his fingers.

“Jude, I’m—” she tried to say, but he smirked against her skin and moved his fingers even harder.

“You’re what? Tell me, baby.” Jude teased her and her back arched. He felt his fingers hurt, but it didn’t matter. Not when she was coming undone in his hands.

“Jude—” she tried to warn again, and he kept moving his fingers, looking at her in the eyes. She struggled to keep them open, trying to keep eye contact.

“Is that everything you know how to say now? My name?” He hit the spot once again and smirked. “I could get used to that.”

Her walls fully clenched around his fingers, and she finally came, seeing stars behind her eyes and leaving a loud moan. It was something she had never experienced so strongly, and she didn’t know if it was because her boyfriend didn’t care about her pleasure or if it was because it was Jude. Maybe the answer was both.

“Fuck.” she muttered, panting. He just smirked, looking into her eyes and leaning away, putting his own fingers in his mouth to taste her.

“Now that’s a very—” his fingers left his mouth with a pop once he made sure to savor the taste. “—very good girl. And a delicious one, if I might add. Could taste you for fucking hours.”

Jude didn’t care if he still had his clothes on. He had a taste of hers, and nothing would stop him now.  If he already couldn’t stop himself before touching, the gods may as well punish him, and it wouldn’t be enough for him to stop.

He kissed her again, making her taste herself before lowering the kisses — from her mouth to the spot under her ear. From her neck to her collarbone. From the valley of her breasts to her stomach. The kisses only lowered. Before he could reach her panties once again, starving, she tugged on her hair.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m too worked up for you to eat me out. Need more.”

He bit his lip and smirked. As much as he wanted to taste her, he wanted to be inside her. He took off his shirt in a swift move and she sat up, crawling closer to him to kiss him and bite his neck. He felt like his skin was on fire and the bulge on his sweatpants only got harder. He took a deep breath.

“You’re not helping, princess.” He sighed.

“Am I not?” Now it was her time to tease. She straddled him and sat right against his crotch, making him almost roll his eyes. “You should take those sweatpants off.” She said as her hands caressed his abdomen.

He quickly turned the position, now on top of her, and took his sweatpants off.

“Good enough for you, princess?” He whispered, leaning closer.

“Better if you took your underwear off.” She smirked.

“Brat.”

Instead of taking his underwear off, he took her panties off in one single move. A risky one, since he could’ve ripped it from how quickly he took it off. He lowered and admired for a moment.

“Such a pretty pussy. A shame you won’t let me eat you out.” He whispered as he looked at her core, gently touching her puffy clit once again. She was stretched, but not enough. He didn’t pay attention to that when he had his fingers inside her — he just wanted to see her pretty face coming.

“Jude.” She called him out with some urgency, and he sighed.

Maybe the gods couldn’t stop Jude, but she could.

He took his underwear off, only now realizing how painfully hard he was. She watched as his cock sprung out, rigid, leaking with too much precum. He bit his lip and put his hand around his cock, spreading the precum slowly. He knew how sensitive he was right now, and he had to hold it back for her. He lined his member with her entrance and slowly dipped inside her.

She moaned loudly and Jude could feel his breath stopping from how tight she was. He gave her some time to adjust to his size.

“This is too much.” She whined.

“Darling, I’m not even moving.” He replied. “Your boyfriend lacks even in that area? He’s truly useless.”

She would’ve chuckled if she wasn’t having a hard time with the way his cock filled her, the burning sensation from the stretch seeming unending.

“It hurts.”

Jude leaned close to her, their lips almost touching.

“It doesn’t, baby.” He thrusted one time, to make her more used to the movements. “I’m taking the pain away. Just feel me here. That’s all you have to do.” He pressed his hand against her belly and thrusted once again, earning a moan and feeling himself from how big he was.

She could do much better than her boyfriend. He wanted to be the much better.

He started properly moving, hard, fast, desperate for his own release as well. To prove her how much better she could be fucked if he was the one doing it. And each time he hit the spot, he could feel her walls clenching. His hand never left her belly, knowing how deep he was going into her. He couldn’t stop.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and held his hair as his movements became more frenetic, moans dripping from her mouth to his ear with anything he did. He moaned whenever she clenched too hard against him.

“You’re so fucking tight.” he muttered, panting, trying to keep the pace. It was taking all of his willpower to not just come already. She didn’t reply, of course. She was too busy scratching his back and moaning desperately.

His movements became more erratic, slower, and, when her walls clenched around him one last time, he spilled everything inside her and fell to her chest, trying to catch his breath.

“Jude?” She called him out once they could properly speak.

“Yeah?”

“Stay. For the night.” She pleaded softly, caressing his back that were marked by the painting her nails had done.

“I wasn’t planning to go anywhere else, princess.” He smiled at her.

Jude held her against his chest, as she peacefully slept. He leaned his chin on the top of her head and, once he was certain she was sleeping, he sighed.

“I can’t take the pain away because I’m not your man.” Jude whispered. “But I wish I was.”

[sencrose]

— 1004

pairing: yukimiya kenyu x f!reader

tags: established relationship, pwp, dry humping, cunnilingus, pet name (pretty girl), honestly the most vanilla thing i’ll ever write probably tbh

wc: 2.4k

summary: your boyfriend is adamant on showing just how much he loves you.

a/n: yeehaw first time writing for blue lock! vanilla and like... romance is not my usual thing so hope it's ok lol. dividers by @/adornedwithlight

ao3 link here

Everything’s great with your boyfriend.

For the most part.

He’s perfect on paper: kind, treats you well, adored by friends and family members alike. Never fails to bring a smile to your face whenever you see him. But that’s what makes it all the more frustrating when his hands grab your thighs with an ironclad grip, begging you to stop straddling him.

It’s not the first time this has happened, far from it. Maybe you were a bit foolish in knowingly dating someone so chaste, thinking you’d be able to convince him otherwise. But every time he rejects your advances, you can’t help but wonder why he’s still with you. Still, you heed his request, getting off him to take a seat next to him on the couch.

“Yukki…” you trail off, huddling into yourself as you find the words to say next, “do you like me?”

Kenyu’s eyes widen, his expression full of concern, as if you kicked a puppy right in front of him. “Huh? Where’s that coming from?”

“I mean…” you mumble, resting your face on top of your knees, “we never do anything more than kissing.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop. The ball in your throat grows, the words spilling from your mouth, like water from a dam that’s been compromised.

“I know you want to wait ‘til marriage but, sometimes it feels like you don’t like me when that’s all we do,” you pause, looking over at him when a twang of guilt strikes your chest before looking down again, “I-I mean we don’t have to go all the way or anything like that.”

“I-It’s nothing like that,” he sighs, pinching his temple before continuing, “I like you, a lot. You could even say that I love you.” The confession makes your skin run hot, even though you’ve heard it plenty of times before.

“It’s not that I don’t want to do it, I’m just scared.” Kenyu shifts again, attempting to face you before continuing, but the second his eyes meet yours, he looks away. “When you get on top of me like that…” Now it’s his turn to be flustered, his skin blooming a pretty shade of pink as he struggles to thread his words together. “I don’t think I can last long.”

You sit up properly, tilting your head quizzically. He has your full attention now. “Huh?”

“It feels crazy good,” Kenyu continues, struggling to meet your gaze, “good enough to make me… You know.” He stops himself short of the word, but you both know what he means. He won’t say it out loud because he won’t know what to do with himself. Though if you’re being honest, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself either.

The silence is deafening. It’s as if the room is waiting for a response. The realization strikes you like lightning, sudden and bright. It’s not that your boyfriend doesn’t like you, quite the opposite in fact. He might like you a little too much.

“Ah, but that’s kinda embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks sheepishly, breaking the silence first and brandishing a forced smile to hide his insecurity.

“Yukki,” you say before putting your hands on either side of his face before pressing, “look at me.”

“I’m looking,” he mumbles through his squished lips.

“I don’t mind. Actually…” you look off to the side even though you’re the one who forced this intimate display of eye contact, “I think it’s really hot.”

His eyebrows manage to shoot up in shock, even in this position. “You sure?”

“You think I’d lie to you?”

He chuckles, and you can hear the relief in his voice. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Then will you let me do the honors?” you ask, looking up at him doe-eyed and fluttering your lashes.

“S-Sure. But can we take it slow?”

“Whatever you want, Yukki,” you say softly, voice honeyed with affection as you get on top of him again. Kenyu shifts, his hands wrapping around your thighs softer this time.

It’s as if something’s shifted. You’ve kissed each other plenty of times before, but now that the intention to go further lies in the air, it’s like your first time again. Awkward, flustered, apologetic as you try to kiss him and accidentally bump foreheads together.

Kenyu laughs, because no matter what you do, he always finds you adorable. He decides to take his hands off your thighs and place them on the back of your head, gently bringing you in for a kiss that puts romance movies to shame. He’s in no rush, savoring the taste of you on his lips as he always does.

Kenyu always knows how to bring you back to Earth. He cherishes you–holds and kisses you like you’re the most delicate piece of china in a glass cabinet. And while this is nice enough on its own, you have other things you’ve been wanting to try. You keep his preferences in mind, taking it slow with a lazy roll of your hips. Even with that, you can hear his voice catching in his throat.

You use the opportunity to take it a bit further and slip your tongue in, which he welcomes. Every time you take it a bit further–whether it’s biting his lip or playing with his tongue–his self control chips a little more, whispered moans filling your mouth.

With every kiss, every roll of your hips, you can feel his length growing, getting hotter even when it’s confined by the fabric of his pants. It makes you want to work just a little harder, get yourself a little closer to cumming with him. The fabric is frustrating, an annoying reminder of just how close yet far you are from him. Though, that frustration starts to melt when Kenyu follows the rhythm of your hips.

It’s getting harder to keep your promise when he’s this cute. When you wrap your arms around his neck, you can feel just how hot and bothered he is, as if his soft whimpers weren’t enough of a testament already. What was once a soft grasp behind your head grows into something more primal and unrefined, desperation running through his fingertips as he grabs whatever he can to bring you closer to him.

You’re not any better, the speed of your hips picking up, desperate to hear him so needy. It’s the first time you’ve heard him like this.

As you lose your control and composure, your hips grind against him harder. Kenyu can’t keep his voice back any longer, desperate groans leaving his mouth with a quiver of his lips. Every sound he gives you goes straight to your pussy, making you warm and greedy for more.

You can feel the wet spot on your panties grow as you rub against him and wonder if he can feel it too. It might be pushing it, but the thought of freeing his cock shoots through your head. It feels and looks so tight against the fabric, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Yukki,” you pause and give a glance at his zipper, “can I?”

“I thought we weren’t going all the way,” he replies, breathless as he looks up at you.

“We aren’t… I just wanna feel you more,” you say meekly, “that’s ok, right?”

His eyes widen like saucers before nodding. “Y-Yeah, go for it.”

So you do, unzipping his pants like you’re unwrapping a present—it might as well be one. You adjust and place yourself right on top and start again, though the sensation is much better this time around for both of you. You see it in the way Yuuki immediately throws his head back and moans, feel it in the way your cunt slides against his heat with only two layers of thin fabric keeping you apart.

All of it’s just too much for you–the pre that’s smeared on his boxers, the warmth of his cock against your clothed folds. It’s the closest you’ve been to him, to going all the way. Everything about it makes you more desperate to see him cum, so you focus all your attention on his leaky tip, just to see how sticky you can make it.

The sight of you proves to be too much for Kenyu, as he brings up his arm to shield his eyes. You’re quick to move it out of the way, a silent plea for him to look at you, look at where you’re nearly connected.

“Getting close?” you ask, sweet as sugar. Just the sound of your voice is enough to send him over the edge, but he wants to hold out, even if it’s just for a moment longer.

“You gotta look at me when you cum,” you plead.

Kenyu bites his lip and groans before shakily nodding.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bring your face closer to his until you’re touching forehead to forehead–close enough to feel every pant, every tremor of his voice.

“You love me?” you moan, digging your hips into him deeper.

“God, I love you so much,” he moans back, eyes lined with tears that are one blink from falling.

Kenyu’s desperately rutting his hips into you, and you swear you can feel him prodding at your entrance.

You feel it when Kenyu cums with a gravelly groan, his chest rattling as he cries. Even more so when you keep humping him, as his boxers get stickier and mix with your slick.

“W-Wait, too much,” he gasps, muscles visibly tightening in his neck as he throws his head back.

You can’t take your eyes off of the point where your undergarments meet, fabric soaked and darkened from the fluids.

“You really love me, huh?” you ask with a smile.

“Of course,” he sighs contentedly before giving you a soft peck on the cheek. It makes it all too easy to snuggle into him and lie your head on his chest. Before you can get too comfortable, Kenyu shifts his body and you’re suddenly far too aware of the sticky patch touching your underwear.

“Um… Should we clean up?” you ask, preparing yourself to dismount before Kenyu shifts his weight to push you back down on the couch, his hands around your wrists. Determination lights a fire in his eyes.

“You gotta let me return the favor.”

“H-Huh?”

“Let you…” he glances down at the wet spot of your panties before looking back at you, “you know?”

Oh.

“N-No, this is enough for me Yukki, I don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“But I do want this,” he assures you before kissing your cheek, his hands carefully tracing the curve of your hips, “I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”

“I mean,” you pause, shuffling a bit and adjusting your gaze away from him, “if you’re okay with it.”

That’s all the approval he needs to kiss you, drawing a trail down your body.

Kenyu’s careful and meticulous, savoring every press of his lips against your skin. Whether it’s your neck, chest, waist, he lingers as if he doesn’t want to leave it behind. Every opened mouth kiss, flick of his tongue filled with adoration.

Whatever ritual he has going on, it doesn’t fail to make you shiver in anticipation, have butterflies blooming in your stomach. It makes you shy, being so exposed in front of him. In a way, it’s a little nostalgic—reminds you of the first time he dropped you off at your apartment and said his goodbyes with a kiss.

But then you’re brought back to the moment when Kenyu adjusts and shifts you to lie down on your back. His hands are there every step of the way, a silent plea to let him take care of everything.

He takes his time with you, slowly kissing a path up your leg. With each kiss, he lingers a moment longer. A playful bite here, a hint of tongue there. It keeps you on edge, just a little. Every hushed gasp or squeal earns a huff and a smile out of him.

“My pretty girl,” he sighs, adoration laced in his breath.

Carefully, he tests the waters with a delicate kiss before going in with a drag of his tongue as soon as a moan slips from your lips. From there, he uses his tongue with a determination you usually only see on the field from afar, like he’s trying to tear a hole in your underwear. The cotton gets wetter with every stroke of his tongue, sticky fabric clinging to your lips.

With his enthusiasm, it’s as if the underwear isn’t even there. All you can feel is Kenyu’s tongue, hot and heavy, incessantly drawing circles around your clit. It’s too much, looking down and seeing his head disappear under the fabric of your skirt. When you instinctively shut your legs out of embarrassment, his hands hook around your thighs and bring you closer. It brings a newly lit passion out of him, has him pressing his face even harder into your pussy.

The noises he makes while sucking on the fabric is too much for your ears, too much for a first time. It’s messy, unrefined, and nothing you would expect from your prim and proper boyfriend. Something about seeing him like this, so desperate and eager to serve, only adds to your arousal.

Despite how laser focused he is on your clit, on making you reach the apex of pleasure, he brings his hand to yours, your fingers intertwining. His thumb rubs circles into your skin, something he always does to comfort you. Maybe he feels it coming before you, with the way your breathing intensifies, the way your moans get louder and all the more cuter.

“You love me too, don’t you?” he asks, hushed and panting.

“L-Love you so, mmh, much Kenyu,” you cry back, biting your lip.

“Wanna show me how much?” he asks before going back into you, passion woven in each stroke of his tongue.

“Yes, yes, yes-” you cry before your climax finally hits you like a wave. Even though you barely recognize the sounds pouring from your lips, you wonder if Yuuki does. All stuttered moans and hushed pants as he guides you through it. His pace starts to slow as you come down from your high, before sealing it with a kiss on your clit.

“Next time you think I don’t love you,” he pauses to meet you face to face before pressing his lips onto yours, “I hope you’ll remember this.”

[blank-potato]

Family Affair

Pairing: Lochlan Ratliff x Stepmother!Reader x Saxon Ratliff

Summary:

“Are you alright?” Saxon asks with fake concern, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Peachy," You grunt out through gritted teeth. His hand travels further, sliding up your leg, and you curse yourself for wearing a dress today. His fingers are teasingly light as he softly touches your panties, touching, but not enough to actually give you what you want. Lochlan notices the shift in your posture, how you curl in on yourself a little. It doesn’t take a genius to see what’s happening; it just takes someone who isn’t wrapped up in their own world. Or After boundaries were pushed between you and both siblings, Saxon is intent on teasing you without giving you what you want, whereas Lochlan won't let you ignore him anymore.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ Explicit content, mommy kink, breeding kink (brief? mention), oral sex, choking kink (minor), fingering, dry humping (minor)

A/N: The levels of degeneracy are quite high with this one, but I couldn't stop writing, and I'm going to miss seeing these freaks on my screen every week. Enjoy ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Part 1

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You were convinced you were going mad. They would have to lock you up and throw away the key if this went on any longer. Every time you’d see Saxon and Lochlan talking, you felt like it was about you. The side glances or half-hidden laughs, the tension in the air made you sick. You were so scared that the secret would get out and your whole life would implode. Timothy would kick you to the curb, and you’d be left with nothing but regret and shame. It was getting hard to even look at him, or even Lochlan. It was unbearable having to avoid him, it was like kicking a puppy. He knew something was off, but you didn’t know what else to do. 

On the other hand, you couldn’t keep your eyes off Saxon. It’s almost as if since that day, he had cooled off. The flirty comments were far and few between, the looks more like glances. Had he gotten what he wanted and moved on?

It was so unfair, especially since you couldn’t stop thinking about that night. You hated to admit it, but you missed his attention. 

This needed to be confronted, otherwise it would eat you alive from the inside out. You knock on Lochlan and Saxon's door, which pulls you out of the whirlwind of doubt and second-guessing spinning in your mind.

“Come in.”

The door opens to reveal Saxon… shirtless, because life couldn’t be more cruel.

“Did you need something?” he says, almost sounding bothered at your presence, or maybe he just really didn’t care.

Never in all the time you knew him did he not care about you being around. You felt hollow.

“I just figured we should speak.”

“About?” he mutters, not looking up from his phone.

“The weather. What do you think?”

With a sigh, he stands up and finally meets your gaze, looking at you with his usual crooked smirk, but the gentle chaos of his messy bedhead softened it. He looked almost cute, but you had to put a stop to that thought immediately; that kind of thinking was dangerous. 

“Thought you'd be happy I'm leaving you alone.”

“I am!” you shout a little too forcefully, eyes looking right at him. The more you lied to yourself, the more you felt control leaving you again, like sand slipping through your fingers.

“I am…” You repeat softer, the words catching in your throat as you play with your wedding band to calm yourself, the metal suddenly feeling far too cold.

“So why are you here?”

His gaze is scrutinising, and you hate it. It cuts right through you, like he can see right through your carefully constructed walls, like he can see what you're really feeling. Everything you’ve been trying not to admit, even to yourself.

“You haven’t told Lochlan, have you?”

“I haven’t… is that all?”

“Yeah…”

“Are you sure?”

Noticing him move closer to you, and you step back until you can’t anymore. He made you feel so small, his presence towering as he crowds around you. His eyes locked on yours, he doesn’t have to say a thing, and he has you right in the palm of his hand.

His lips ghost your neck, making your hair stand up on end. Everything in your body screamed that you wanted him and needed him. Just the heat and scent of him made your knees weak.

He doesn't touch you, his arms are caging you in, but no part of him is on you, and it's driving you crazy. To have him so close yet so far, to see the condescending tilt of his smile, and not be able to do anything.

“Saxon, we can’t—”

“I’ll see you at breakfast?” Saxon interrupts, smooth as ever.

He pulls away, but you remain frozen. Your heart is still racing, your breath shallow, and your brain is trying to play catch-up. 

“I…” You start, but struggle to find the words to finish your sentence. You figure you took too long because he moves past you without you ever finishing. The door slamming shut as he leaves you there, trying to recollect yourself. The worst part is the anger you feel at wanting him back as soon as he leaves. 

݁˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖

“Can you pass the salt?” Timothy asks, his voice distant, almost automatic. He seemed a little out of it, but you were sure it was just the early morning fog.

"Of course, dear," you reply, offering a practiced smile as you hand it over.

Sitting with the whole family, breakfasts tended to be a little more civil, probably because you were all too tired to fight this early. This was what families should be like, a brief illusion of peace over eggs and toast.

"I'm going to visit the temple today," Piper says, her tone lighter than usual, almost hopeful.

The conversation turns to her Buddhism journey, and you nod along, supportive. You were all for it and wanted her to experience all that she could, and if it meant her having a little less time to judge you, that would help too.

Lochlan offers words of support when no one else would. He was gentle and thoughtful as always, and you try to stay with it, but you can't focus.

Then Saxon cuts through the calm like a blade. You figure it’s something crass by the way his voice drops into that teasing tone he saves for stirring things up.

You hear Lochlan laugh along with him, and you wonder, did he really find it funny? Or was it just easier to laugh to appeal to him?

Looking down uncomfortably at your plate, you push your food around with your fork, appetite long gone, but Lochlan notices immediately. It was uncharacteristic for you to be so quiet. You always had something to say, a joke, a sharp observation, even just a hum of agreement to keep the air warm between you.

But it was especially odd that you were so quiet to him. You always talked to him. Always reached for him. And now, your silence felt like a wall he wasn’t used to being on the other side of. 

Saxon puts his hand on your thigh, and it brings you back to the present moment, your fork pausing in your hand. The way he’s touching you is anything but innocent, rubbing up and down, almost massaging it.

“Are you alright?” Saxon asks with fake concern, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

“Peachy," You grunt out through gritted teeth.

His hand travels further, sliding up your leg, and you curse yourself for wearing a dress today. His fingers are teasingly light as he softly touches your panties, caressing, but not enough to actually give you what you want.

Lochlan notices the shift in your posture, how you curl in on yourself a little. It doesn’t take a genius to see what’s happening; it just takes someone who isn’t wrapped up in their own world.

The conversation continues as Saxon leans closer, his gaze flitting around the table naturally, and against your better judgment, you rock against his hand. The fact that this was the most attention he had given you in what felt like ages only made you want it more.

“Is anyone listening?” Piper asks, her voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yeah, go ahead, Pipe,” Timothy says, distracted, looking to the side, his attention clearly elsewhere.

The sound of muffled voices cuts in and out, and you’re left lost in the moment, chasing the feeling he’s giving you but not being able to fully surrender without being too obvious. He’s put you in a tough situation, and he knows it, the smirk on his lips telling you everything you need to know.

“What do you think?” Piper asks, and you notice the whole table’s eyes on you…

“I…” you begin, but there’s no end to that sentence. You let out a fake cough as all of a sudden Saxon starts furiously rubbing your clit through your underwear. You bite your lip as you try to focus. You know you’re taking too long to reply, but he just keeps going, never letting up. 

“I think I left my sunglasses at the villa, I’ll be right back.”

The words fly out of your mouth, and you scurry off back to the villa, with your tail between your legs. But you still find yourself missing him. 

Saxon: 2, You: 0.

݁˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖

Saxon doesn't stop; he had made a conscious effort to be everywhere yet nowhere. Whenever you wanted him, he'd be distractingly absent, and when you were finally enjoying a bit of peace, he would be there to break it.

The only thing that could calm you down would be a nice shower. He couldn't possibly ruin that, could he? The spray of the hot water helps you relax, are you still horny? Maybe? But it's a more general horny, rather than a Saxon focused one. You're distracted when you hear the door to your room open, footsteps approaching the bathroom door.

“Timothy?”

There���s no response, but you hear the bathroom door opening. You notice a tall figure outside the shower screen. Clearing away the condensation, you see Saxon.  

"W-what are you doing in here?"

“Charity,” he quips, opening the door to the shower.

“H-hey…” you stammer, caught off guard as he steps in without hesitation. His shirt gets wet, and so do his shorts, but he doesn’t seem to care, focused purely on you.

“What? It’s for a good cause,” he smirks, his eyes glinting mischievously. "If you touch yourself in front of me, I might decide to help you out. I’ve seen how frustrated you’ve been lately, and I know it’s my fault, or at least partly.”

You don’t hesitate nearly as much as you should, but you must just be that desperate.

You start to touch yourself, your hands tentative and shaky, something about him breaking that little bit of confidence you had.

“Don’t be shy. You and I both know you’re anything but that.”

Sensing that, he steps forward and places his hand over yours. Acting as your guide, he slides both of your hands, lower towards your pussy.  He moves his hand and just watches, and you feel that he’s too far away despite you breathing the same air. It’s nowhere near enough, you need his body against you. You need him fucking him so hard you don’t remember your name, you need him to fuck you silly. 

You reach out for his hand, and he lets you take it. You step out of the shower, closer to him than ever. He’s so close to touching you, you would take anything. He could just hold his hand there and you’d rock against it, like a wanton whore. You try to, but he swats at your thigh in mock disapproval.

“You’re not gonna ask?”

“Can I please…?” You ask trailing off, the fact that you were naked in front of him was embarrassing enough, but the pleading was something else.

“Yes?” He says, placing his knuckles against your sensitive folds. 

“Grind against your hand?” You finish, keeping your eyes downcast. The look on his face was no doubt deliciously smug, but you’re not sure you could handle that.

With a sigh, he moves his hand from between your thighs, grabs your towel, and tosses it at you. 

“You’re dripping on the floor."

˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖

Later that afternoon, the rest of the Ratliffs leave to go on a yacht without you. You were all for family bonding, but the boat ride on the first day nearly had you puking your guts out, so you didn't want to take that chance again. Plus, it’d be nice to have some alone time, well, if it weren’t for the fact that Lochlan decided to stay with you. He had claimed “boats aren’t really my thing”, which you highly doubted, but nevertheless he was firm in staying. 

After spending hours hiding away in your room, you finally come out. The grumbling of your stomach was something fierce, and no incestuous drama would stop you from eating. At least that's what you thought until you saw Lochlan already there, and felt your appetite completely disappear.

You turn away, but not quick enough, hearing a small “Hey,” from behind you. You walk up to him, trying to maintain a modicum of composure, “What are you making?”

“Just some tea Piper got. It’s supposed to be super healthy, and organic or something,” he says casually while inspecting the packet, “I can make more if you–”

“That's fine! I'm fine.”

There's an uncomfortable silence, and you look over to see Lochlan's face fraught with sadness. He fidgets with his watch, puppy dog eyes out in full force.

“You've been avoiding me, and…” He pauses, his voice quiet but vulnerable. “Did I do something wrong?” His eyebrows quirk up in concern, the uncertainty in his gaze pulling at something deep inside you.

You stand at the counter, fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm. You didn't know how to handle this? There was no chapter in the stepmom handbook titled “How to Deal with Your Stepson Jerking Off Onto Your Panties.”

“Look at me.”

His sharp tone of voice shocks you a little. It was cold and almost demanding. You look up and see his expression, he was frowning and looked serious. It’s only when you’ve maintained eye contact for a few seconds that the tension in his gaze melts, and his eyes soften again.

“That night when I was ill…did you hear anything?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to be able to speak. 

“What about the soup?”

The fucking soup. 

If only you hadn’t brought it back for him, you wouldn’t be in this situation. The tension still hung in the air like a thick fog. Your mind drifts back to that moment, seeing him like that, the guilt and frustration all tangled up in his eyes.

“What soup?” You say, playing dumb and forcing a nonchalant shrug, but you couldn’t play that dumb. Not anymore. Words weren’t exactly your best friend at the moment, though. He sees through all that. 

“Whatever you heard, I…” He pauses, his voice tightening, the tiniest crack in his usual composure. The way your legs close, or how your fingers stop tapping and instead grip the counter hard, he sees that too.

“I didn’t mean to. I just… I couldn’t help myself.” Before you can react, to argue with the lack of control and how many lines he crossed, he says, “And then… with you and Saxon.”

“Wait, what?”

Lochlan glances around the kitchen, biting the inside of his lip. He looked guilty, but not as guilty as you felt.

He wasn’t the only one crossing boundaries; the weight of your own actions hangs over you.

“I saw you guys. The kissing and then…”

The dread hits you like a freight train, and you feel like dropping dead on the spot. You just might. Anything would be better than this.

“Oh my…” Your voice is shaky with disbelief. It turns into a groan as you hide your face in your hands. Just when you can’t take it anymore, you feel his hands softly pulling your own away from your face. Lochlan’s sweet, but nervous smile comes into view.

“I won’t tell my dad or anything. You can trust me.” He says, his voice gentle, and you feel like you could trust him.

“I only ask for one thing in return.”

“And what’s that?” You ask, nervously, almost afraid of what he might say next.

You wait for his reply, but he steps closer, his arms caging you in, trapping you against the counter. Wordlessly, slotting his knee between your legs just like Saxon had done to you the night before. You open your mouth to protest, and you try desperately to hold onto any semblance of being a good stepmother, but he silences you. His soft but insistent fingers press gently against your lips, almost taking you back to that night yet again.

“Please, just…let me make you feel good.”

It takes a second to breathe, to steady yourself, but you nod at him… giving in like you did with Saxon. 

He lets his fingers explore, tracing up your inner thighs as you fight not to shiver against him. It's slow, almost agonisingly slow, but you hold on. It was like he was taking his revenge on how you had been ignoring him.

“Lochy…” you whine, but he doesn't stop, just continuing to tease you, and offering you no relief. Leaning in just that little bit closer so you can feel his breath on your neck. Just that little bit more and you’d lose control, but it seems teasing runs in the family as he pulls away with a cheeky grin.

“Lochlan,” you say a little louder, fighting to be firm and authoritative, as if you were reprimanding him, but it falls flat. 

You're completely weak to his touch, and you both know that.

Finally, he reaches your panties, the same type that he had stolen from you the other day.

His hand slithers and starts rubbing you through the fabric, finding the wet spot immediately.

“This wet already?”

You look away, focusing on the kitchen cabinets behind him, too ashamed to look him in the eye as he was taking you apart.

“Look at me, please.”

You oblige, feeling incredibly exposed, knowing you must look a mess. The little smile on his face only confirmed it. 

He peels the garment away from your aching pussy, letting it drop to your ankles wasting no time in diving in. He holds your chin in place, not letting your gaze wander as he fucks you with his fingers. You still can’t believe how wet you got for him. You were dripping with need for him, and he had barely started. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on. 

“Is that good?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp out, and Lochlan's face lights up with glee, like a puppy that’s managed to catch its own tail.

It's clear that he's been thinking about this for a long time, the needy look in his eyes.

“So perfect, you make me never want to stop.”

“Y-yeah?” You stammer, hips bucking against his hand a little. 

“Never seen anyone so pretty,” he insists as he moves faster, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit as his long fingers caress your spot. 

You want so badly to respond. To say something, anything, but nothing comes out but whimpers, breathless and shaky.

He leans closer, whispering against your ear, "I’d let you do whatever you wanted with me."

Just then, a thought flashes in your mind, throwing your head back. Lochlan is on his knees for you, taking direction like no one else could and laser-focused on making you feel good. 

It’s like he knew exactly what to say to you.

Just then, you feel something poking against your thigh and look down to see his cock pressing against you through his shorts. He starts grinding against you, matching the thrust of his fingers to it. Your mind can’t help but think of what it would be like if he were inside you. You imagine his body weight pressing against you as he gives you orgasm after orgasm, all the while telling you how pretty you are.

“What do you want me to do?”

Cupping your face with his free hand, you feel your heart thrum with excitement. 

“I want…I want you on your knees.”

His eyes spark with amusement, and you can see he’s about to do it. But fate has other plans as you hear voices approaching nearby, the sound of footsteps growing louder.

“We need to stop…”

“In a second,” he says, his voice low and urgent, nuzzling against your neck, getting lost in the warmth of your scent before pulling away reluctantly, like every part of him is fighting to stay.

His fingers pulled out of you, still wet with your slick and you adjust yourself, putting your panties back on properly, shuddering a little as your sensitive clit rubs against the fabric. 

“Wait…” He says, slightly dazed, but not moving away from you. The voices grow louder, not moving from the spot they were at outside. You had a few moments before you’d be caught. 

His hand goes back to your chin, and he guides your lips to his fingers, making you lick your wetness off. To say you were making a show of it would be an understatement; the way you were lapping up his fingers, you'd think they were covered in honey. Never breaking eye contact, you take his fingers as deep as you can, making his breath hitch before you pull away. You certainly wouldn't be winning any ‘Stepmother of the Year’ award anytime soon.

“Fuck,” he wheezes, appreciating your little show as he feels himself twitch a little in his shorts. He wipes his fingers on his shirt and presses himself against the counter, trying to will his erection to go down. 

The rest of the family comes in, not knowing what transpired just a few seconds ago.

“How was the boat ride?” You ask, forcing a smile, looking at Timothy and wrapping his hand around yours, trying to appear casual. You half-listen to the reply, your mind still tangled up, but you glance back at Lochlan for a moment, catching his eye and seeing just how satisfied with himself he looks. You’re just sad you didn’t have enough time to wipe it off his face. 

݁˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖

You had definitely earned a place in hell or maybe you’d be reborn as a bug for this bullshit you were doing. Not one stepson, but both of them? There was clearly no going back from that. It plagued your thoughts, your night with Saxon, and now Lochlan fingering you in the kitchen. You wanted to go home, maybe there you would be able to get your head on straight. 

You kiss Timothy awake, littering his face in kisses. The more affection you showed him, the easier it’d be to move on. That had to be the case.

“It’s already 10, sleepyhead,” You whisper, but he grumbles a groggy reply. Knowing it’d be a while before he got up, you stumble out of bed and head straight to the kitchen for your morning coffee. 

Incestuous drama might stop you from getting your dinner, but it wouldn’t stop you from getting your morning coffee. Or at least, that’s what you thought before you saw Saxon making his godforsaken protein shake.

“Morning,” you mumble, eyes still half-closed. You had intended it to come out with a little more gusto, but it comes out quiet and sheepish instead.

There was plenty of space in the kitchen but Saxon chooses to brush past you, the sweet scent of his cologne filling your senses, and feeling the outline of his dick making you almost nostalgic.

“So you’ve moved on,” Saxon says, playfully, as he dumps his protein powder into the blender.

“What are you talking about?”

Yet again, you didn’t have time for his shit. You’ve been aching and waiting for him, but he only decides to rear his head to stick his nose in your business after you’ve done something horrible. 

“You. Loch. Kitchen. Ring any bells?”

Your heart races as you furrow your brows, wondering if he heard them.

“He told me.”

You sigh, because of course he told him. Of course, Lochlan ran straight to Saxon like some messed-up confessional.

“What now? Gonna call me a degenerate again?” You grumble, rubbing your forehead in frustration.

“Just glad you’re finally…letting loose.”

He invades your space like always, his fingers trailing down your neck, gently brushing against the expensive necklace Timothy bought you for your 6-month anniversary.

“Need I remind you this is a shared space?”

“Hasn’t stopped us before.”

And sadly, he’s right. You look down, his fingers now lightly resting on your throat. He pulls you in, stopping just short of kissing you, his eyes studying the way your chest rises and falls. You feel the nervous quiver of your lip as you anticipate his touch.

“Beg for it,” he shrugs.

“W-what?” You stutter in shock.

“If you want me to kiss you, you need to beg.”

The pride is suffocating, but you want it so bad. His presence is just right in front of you, his grip just strong enough to keep you from stealing a kiss.

“Please, Saxon.”

“Please, what? How am I supposed to know what you want, if you’re not specific?”

“Please kiss me,” you beg meekly.

He looks you up and down, and you feel especially pathetic. You were a Ratliff now, southern royalty, and yet here you were, begging for touches and kisses. Saxon just chuckles and lets go of your throat before going about making his protein shake, tossing things into the blender.

“But Saxon, I begged.”

“I didn’t say I’d give it to you.”

He turns on his obnoxious, little blender, your blood boiling as it whirrs loudly, drowning out any chance of you saying anything more. You stand there, left sexually frustrated, watching him casually go about his business, completely indifferent to the tension. You hate to admit it, but Saxon was winning by a long shot.

݁˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖☘︎ ݁˖

You walk into the villa, from a clarifying stress management session, and all is clear. Your time in Thailand was still uncomfortable, but soon it would be over. You would pack your things, board that flight, and pretend none of this ever happened, go home and be free of whatever this mess had become.

You couldn’t lie, the sense of guilt and shame had whittled down to but a toothpick. The moral dilemma of sleeping with your husband’s sons had become more of an afterthought. The guilt would come back another day, but the horny is now. If you were going to go out, you may as well go out with a bang.  If you gave in to temptation, maybe you would be able to move forward. Ignoring it wasn’t exactly going well anyway.

Knocking on their door, you wait a beat longer than you need to, Lochlan opening the door this time. He’s all smiles and soft eyes, and it does boost your ego a bit, knowing you’re the reason why.

“Oh, hey.”

He steps aside as you slip past him, sitting on his bed like it’s yours. 

“Are you okay? Is this about…?” he trails off, his voice gentle, the question lingering between you both, unspoken, but fully understood.

“It’s about that.”

You pat the space next to you. He looks unsure, shifting on his feet, and nervous, like he's afraid stepping closer might break something fragile between you.

The bed dips with his weight, and he’s right next to you, so close you can feel the warmth of him without even touching. 

“I don’t want to play around anymore, Lochy.”

“What are you—?” he starts, but you cut him off, voice soft but certain.

“You want me, and I want you too. Let’s stop pretending.”

The words hang in the air, heavier than they should be, but honest in a way that leaves no room for hiding anymore.

You climb into his lap, slow and deliberate, your hands finding his shoulders as you settle against him. He looks up at you like you were his salvation, like he couldn’t believe you were finally choosing him. His hands hover at your waist, hesitant, trembling slightly, and you guide them into place.

“It's okay,” you whisper. “You can touch me.”

You lean in and peck his lips, soft, a little shy, and you both laugh, nerves and tension breaking just slightly. Then you go back in, kissing him deeper this time, slow and certain, like you’ve made up your mind, and there’s no going back. His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you closer, like you’re both finally saying everything you were too scared to before.

His hands travel down from your waist and he cups your ass with his hands before looking up at you innocently, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay, Loch.”

He kisses your neck eagerly, almost trying to prove himself to you. You feel the heat of it bloom across your skin, his lips insistent, breathing in your scent like it grounds him.

Your breathing syncing with one another, grabbing him by the shirt, you kiss him again, and he’s lost in you. The kiss is gentle and desperate, like he’s trying to show that he belongs to you, a silent plea in each touch. His hands trace your back, pulling you closer.

It isn’t long before you feel a hardness poking against you.

“I turn you on that much?” You say grinding your ass against him. He nods quickly, his mouth suddenly too dry to utter a word. You get off his lap and get undressed, each layer of clothing removed, only getting him more excited. 

“Leave your panties on.”

“Alright, Lochy,” You smirk, almost teasing, and move your hands away instead, focusing on your bra.

He wastes no time getting naked; by the time you’re making your way back over to him, he’s ready.

“I’ll take it slow, okay?”

He nods and holds your waist as you straddle him before helping lower you down onto him. The stretch is perfect, and so is the look on Lochlan’s face. 

“You’re doing so well,” You praise as you kiss all over his face, making him sigh in contentment. 

His eyes roll back when you bottom out, and you pet his hair, living for the way he’s leaning into your touch. You feel the urge to pull him closer to you and watch as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. You are full of him and have never felt so at home.

“Mommy,” He sputters out when you start moving your hips. It catches you off guard, but you can’t deny you liked it. The way he looked up at you like he said something wrong. Yet you hated how natural it sounded coming from his lips, like he had no idea what he was doing to you.

“Say it again.”

“Mommy, please.”

There it is, that same sweet sound reaching your ears, sweeter than any symphony you’ve ever heard.

His eyes flutter open and shut, the sunlight from behind you acting like a halo. His beautiful angel. For a second, he just stares like he can’t believe you’re real, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks too long.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, voice rough with emotion. His hands travel upward, holding onto your chest, playing with your nipples almost curiously. You squeal at the feeling and move your hips faster. 

You bounce up and down on him, biting on your fist, doing very little to hide both your moans. It’s impossible not to squeeze your eyes shut, overrun by how good he was making you feel. Every sensation, every touch, was amplified, electric beneath your skin.

“Don't close your eyes. I want you to look at me.”

His voice was low, commanding, but still tender. It was a line that Lochlan walked beautifully, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel some type of way. You open them slowly, locking onto his gaze, and suddenly it’s even more intense, like he’s unraveling you with just his eyes.

And you let him.

He reaches up, pulling you to him by your hair and kisses you like you're all he's ever needed. It’s sweet, how needy and clingy he is, like kissing you is the only thing keeping him alive. You hadn't known it would be this good, otherwise you would have given in sooner and said guilt and shame be damned. 

“G-get me pregnant,” You blurt out, causing him to stutter in his movements. He then starts moving again, doubling, if not tripling his efforts, and sending you into a state like freefall. His eagerness and enthusiasm are not something to be scoffed at.

He leans you back until you're laying on the bed, and starts moving his hips, rolling his cock into you slowly but deeply.

“Like this, Mommy?”

“Just like that.” You hold onto his hips, guiding them in and out of you, moaning every time he brushes against your spot. You knew that he’d wake up with your scratches on him, and that only made you squeeze harder.

The door swings open, startling you both, but noticing that it’s Saxon, he keeps going without missing a beat.

“W-wait, you can’t—” You whine to them both.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Saxon swiftly replies, closing the door behind him. His gaze lingers, shameless and amused, as if walking in on this was exactly what he expected, or maybe even wanted. Lochlan looks over at him as he’s thrusting into you, and you feel something change. Something about the way he’s touching you felt familiar, almost as if he were mimicking Saxon’s movements from the other night.

Before you can question that, Saxon distracts you. Subtlety isn’t your strong point as your eyes land on Saxon’s lips, your gaze lingering just a second too long before you tilt your chin up toward him. You feel Lochlan grip harder at your hips from losing your attention, but he doesn’t say anything, just holds you there like he’s afraid to let go.

Saxon kisses you without hesitation, and it knocks all the air, all the thoughts, all the restraint out of you. The kiss is rough and hungry, like he’s trying to claim you for himself, to brand you with the taste of him. His hands fist in your hair, the other pressed firm against your throat, holding you like he owns you.

By the time he pulls away, you’re dazed and lost in a dizzying, forbidden ecstasy. Your lips left swollen, and thoughts scattered like ash.

Blinking yourself back to reality, your eyes focus, but when they do, you see something confusing, to say the least. 

Lochlan and Saxon kissing.  

As soon as it happens, there’s an instant replay in your mind, trying to make sense of what you just saw. 

The hesitation on Saxon's face just before Lochlan pulled him in. Tufts of Saxon's hair threaded between Lochlan's fingers as he guided their lips together. Lochlan sliding his tongue into Saxon’s mouth with little reservation. It was hungry, like Lochlan’s hands holding him close. But also something desperate, like Saxon’s lips falling into sync with Lochlan’s. 

You were shocked… but you didn't hate it.

It was twisted, but everything about this trip had been. What’s one more thing?

You see him smiling into the kiss as he briefly looks at you, and he’s loving the attention. He needs attention. Not just Saxon's, yours too. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a message. 

And now that you got it, your heart won’t stop racing. Saxon pulls away first, slow in his movements as he looks at you while Lochlan resumes fucking you like nothing happened.

“Mommy…”

He’s lost in thought, watching your face screw up with pleasure as his little brother ruins you for anybody else. Saxon got a little bit harder, whether it was from that thought or the kiss, he didn’t know. He didn’t even know which one was worse. 

“Gonna— I’m close. Gonna get you pregnant.”

He kisses you again, but it’s like someone flipped a switch. Tongues tangle, teeth clashing in a rush of urgency, pulling back, a thin strand of spit still connecting your lips. 

You barely get a moment to breathe before his lips are on you again, and he can’t get enough of you. He was insatiable. You can’t focus on anything but him. All sense of control, completely out the window. 

You feel your body tense up as you clench down on him, your orgasm rolling over you in waves. Your spasms and shakes, guiding him into his own orgasm as he holds onto you, wanting to fill you as deeply as he can. You take every bit of it before he pulls out of you, cum dribbling out of your now empty hole.

But you’re not empty long as Saxon picks up your legs placing them on his shoulders as he eases into you; Lochlan's cum acting as lube.

“Taking it so well for both of us, aren’t you?” 

“So well,” You gasp brainlessly as you look up at Saxon, his strong arms holding your legs.

By this point, you’re already halfway to being spent. For someone with no experience, Lochlan did a number on you, and Saxon was finishing the job. He’s only pissed that he didn’t get there first, but a good brother always shares. 

Saxon starts to gain control of the situation, the way his hands guide your body, the confidence in his touch. It pulls the balance of your dynamic back to where it usually sits: with him in charge. But there was still a lingering tension beneath the surface, something raw and unspoken. Like no matter how much control he took, Lochlan had still managed to shake something loose in him, and no one knew what to do with it.

Saxon smirks, his voice low. “I want to hear how much you want it.” 

“So bad, I wanna take everything you give me,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hear that, Lochy?” Saxon teases, his eyes glinting with mischief as he looks at his brother. Lochlan smiles back and sweetly adds, “Wanna try begging for us?”

“Please, fuck me,” The words tumble out of your mouth so quickly you can barely register what they’re saying. “Don’t know what to do with myself otherwise.”

Clearly, liking your answer, he gives it to you as hard as he wants, and you’re not complaining. 

Lochlan is already getting hard again, and you can’t leave him like that. So you take his cock into your hands, but the moment you do,�� he immediately tries to downplay his needs. 

“You don't need to…”

“I want to,” You puff out between moans, and he stops protesting.

You jerk his dick a few times before taking him into your mouth. He lets you, eyes shut as he holds onto his own thighs. He thrusts shallowly, as you only get halfway down his shaft. Your lips stretch around him as far as he’ll let you go.

“Deeper, Lochy,” Saxon commands, reaching up and pushing your head down on his cock making you gag around it. The sound makes them both smirk just a little, enjoying just how thoroughly they wrecked you. 

“Hold her by her hair too,” Saxon says lowly, and Lochlan obliges without hesitation, letting him order him around, like he wants to please him just as much as he wants to please you.

You can barely keep up with both of them because you’ve never felt so full in your whole life. 

Your legs are trembling on Saxon’s shoulders as eyes fall down your cheeks from the lack of air; any more of this, and you might pass out.  You can only feel as Saxon kisses your calves, as they tremble against his thrusts. 

He drops one leg off his shoulder to free up a hand to toy with your clit, making you cry out on Lochlan’s cock. 

“Your mouth is so good, Mommy.”

The familiar stuttering of Lochlan’s hips tells you that he’s close and he pulls you down onto his dick as he fills your mouth with load. He was completely blissed out as he moans your name.

Soon after, Saxon's lips swoop in to meet yours, his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting what you hadn't swallowed. You can already tell without looking where Lochlan's eyes are. You had a feeling that kiss was a message too, one you couldn't completely decipher. You weren't sure you wanted to.

"Doesn't she look pretty?" He comments as if you're not there, wiping the spit and cum off your lips.

"The prettiest," Lochlan says agreeing with him in earnest.

Saxon, having all of your attention now, lifts your hips off the bed, pistoning into you at a persistent speed, the sound of your hips slapping against one another, echoing in the room. 

“Ready to come for me?”

“Y-yes," and you really meant it. Your body was wound up with tension, and you needed this release more than anything. 

Lochlan sensing how close you are, quickly leans down and starts sucking on your tits sending you over the edge. He cups them both in his hands, his lips travelling between the two. The reverent, soft touch was the perfect contrast to what Saxon was doing to you. You climax again, your scream muffled quickly by Lochlan’s hand. The room seems to spin as you lie there, your pleasure still fresh. The feeling of Saxon’s sticky cum, hitting your face, bringing you back to earth.

“Good girl,” he coos, and you accept the compliment with open arms or rather an open mouth.

The three of you collapse onto the bed, and the room fills with silence, thick and suffocating. Bodies still tangled, hearts racing, breaths slowly steadying. There is so much to be said, and yet no one dared to say it.

You think you’d all rather die than say it.

It’d just have to stay a secret, and what family doesn’t have secrets?

Masterlist

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SPRING — NANAMI KENTO.

contents. domesticity with nanami after moving in together. aka brushing your teeth. aka staring at him shamelessly as he does mundane tasks. (me writing someone other than gojo or geto ???? whatttttt :O)

it doesn’t hit you that you and kento now live together until the the morning after the first night.

it’s spring. there are flowers you want to keep in your balcony sitting in your living room, the box labeled dishes is half empty from only what you took out for dinner, and you aren’t quite sure where your clothing box is because you forgot to label it. but kento is handsome next to you in the bathroom, shirtless as he brushes his teeth.

there are two sinks—one for you and one for him, but you opt for brushing your hip against his and sharing one. he doesn’t say anything, just scoots a little to the side and rinses his mouth as he makes room for you.

“please stop staring,” he mumbles tiredly, “it’s getting awkward.”

“you look handsome,” you pout, “i can’t admire you?”

“i’m brushing my teeth,” he deadpans.

“yes, a very handsome sight. i love seeing your care for dental hygiene.”

kento sighs, grabbing the small towel from the side and patting his face dry as you lean down and spit, rinsing your own mouth and plopping your toothbrush back in place. next to his.

and your face wash is beside his too, and so is your shampoo and body wash in the shower. you step to the side, bumping hips with him again as you grin—it’s ecstatic, the expression on your face.

“kento, i just realized something,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his jaw. it’s smooth, the feeling of his skin under your lips—you watched him shave earlier, sat on the counter and swung your legs as he carefully ran the razor along his skin.

“and what’s that?” he asks, patting your face with the towel, gently wiping away the droplets of water with extra care.

“we live together now—and i can watch you brush your teeth every day,” you grin.

“we shared a bed last night,” he raises a brow, “i’m sure you realized a bit before this that we now share a living space.”

wrong.

your home isn’t put together yet—you couldn’t find your pajamas last night, so you wear kento’s. the coffee machine still hasn’t been taken out and plugged in yet, and breakfast is currently limited to cereal and fruit that doesn’t need to be cut until the kitchen utensils have been organized. your couch hasn’t arrived yet, and your bed is currently just a mattress on the floor until the bed frame is delivered.

it doesn’t really dawn on you that you and kento are living together until you wake up with his chest under your cheek and his breath fanning against your forehead. sure, you and kento have spent nights at each other’s apartments—but that always results in one rising before the other to leave early and make up for the extra distance in the commute to work.

today, however, you and kento are home together. it’s spring—you can hear cicadas calling and see the buds blooming in the plants outside. there are flowers waiting to be potted in your balcony, and fresh strawberries of the season waiting for you in the kitchen.

and when you watch kento take his time and brush his teeth, hip accidentally bumping against yours as he leans down to rinse his mouth, you realize your home is with kento now.

you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck, “well, we’ve shared a bed before,” you kiss delicately at the slant of his jaw again, “but i’ve never seen you shirtless and brushing your teeth.”

“this new obsession is scaring me,” he mumbles, “what’s so special about me brushing my teeth?”

“oh, kento,” you grin, warm and bright and as fresh as the first breeze of spring, “it’s certainly a sight. you just have to see it.”

he hums, shaking his head gently as he chuckles in that soft, calm little way that he does. his arms find your waist.

your bathroom, even with missing shower curtains, feels like it’s always been yours. it feels natural, living with kento, it feels natural sharing a towel to wipe your face and leaving the door unlocked for the other to come in as you prepare for the morning.

“i have my own sight,” he murmurs, tracing your cheek as his hand cups your face, “you look lovely when you drool in your sleep.”

“kento,” you whine with a pout, “don’t watch me sleep.”

“how could i not?” he grins, brown eyes bordering on hazel as they brighten, “it’s the best new part of my mornings.”

he kisses you there, in the bathroom you still have to finish setting up, the tiles cool beneath your feet and his lips warm against your mouth.

it’s spring when you move in with kento—and you have a newfound appreciation for the season.

guess who wants to brush her teeth in the mornings with nanamin. it might be me. it might be my undying need for domesticity. it might be my deep desire to witness him spit. it might be both. i haven’t decided yet

[jinwoosbabyboo]

𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚣𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎

My headcanons of the lads men taking you on a corn maze date A/N: I don’t know how other states do their corn mazes, but in mine they have food trucks and games, sweets & treats and pumpkin patches along with the corn maze [Requested by: Anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

you mentioned wanting to go to a corn maze once and he planned his entire schedule around taking you to one

shows up outside your door telling you to get dressed

detours to try all the sweets “Zayne we need to get to the maze before it gets dark”

doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time even when you start stress squeezing it “If you hold my hand any tighter you’ll fracture it”

could easily find his way out but lets you lead

“are your feet getting tired?” carries you if you start getting tired

keeps you calm when you start to get nervous about being lost

takes over halfway through so he can go get more sweets after you said you’re kind of hungry

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

hides in the cornfield to scare you

whines and wants to be babied when you accidentally slap him for jumping out at you “I’m sorry it was a reflex” “kiss it and make it better”

lets you lead and follows close behind either holding your hand or the hem of your shirt/jacket

mini photoshoot in the maze and in the pumpkin patch

critiques the cornfield “this looks dry” “you’re a fish not a farmer don’t judge something you know nothing about”

tries to turn the corn into popcorn

uses his fire evol to light the way for you if/when it gets dark

gets bored and starts playing with your butt to entertain himself “can you stop that” “it’s so jiggly”

runs around the pumpkin patch bringing you the biggest pumpkins he can find “we can paint them when we get home!” “Why not carve them?” “and have fruit flies all over my porch? I think not”

drags you to play every activity they have before even glancing at the corn maze

teases you in the maze “maybe we should have gone right instead of left like I said”

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

picks the corn “Xavier stop you can’t take that” “the farmer won’t miss a few”

gets sleepy halfway through “we should take a nap here” “Get up”

prefers the pumpkin patch because he can lay on the hay bales

finds a tiny pumpkin and tells you it reminded him of you because it’s adorable

want to have a bite of every snack/food you get

shares all of his food with you “just open your mouth and say ahh”

holds your hand tightly while taking the lead (he’ll always be your Grandis Knight through and through)

creates fireflies to light the way when it starts getting dark while you’re in the maze

drags you into the cornfield to make out “we can’t stay hidden forever” “Just one more kiss”

somehow loses you at one point in the maze so he creates a bright ass light so you can find him

carries you on his back the rest of the way through so he won't lose you

lets you direct him while you’re being carried

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

“Anywhere is fine as long as I’m with you” happily accompanies you to a corn maze

brings the twins along because you said so

Luke & Kieran take off running in the maze (competing on who can get to the end first)

Sylus takes a bite of any food/snack you press to his lips

has a hand around your waist or holds your hand the whole day

watches with a smile as you and the twins scour the pumpkin patch for the biggest pumpkins

follows close behind while you lead the way through the maze

encourages you when you start overthinking and psyching yourself out

still teases you in the maze “oh look another dead end” “you could be more helpful you know”

lets you use Mephisto as your eyes in the sky when you get too frustrated

rubs your tummy when you eat too much

carries you to the car when you wear yourself out from running around with the twins

takes candid photos of you all day without you noticing

prints them out and keeps them in an album

[dannyriccsystem]

can i have 12 and 15 with oscar please? xoxo

YOU CAN STAND UNDER MY UMBRELLA.

1K SPECIAL - OP81

Sharing an umbrella + Friends to lovers

SUMMARY: You and Oscar end up under the same umbrella on your way home from a group hangout.

WORD COUNT: 1K

WARNINGS: Awkward lovesick Oscar, Y/N usage, fluff!

FEATURING: Oscar Piastri x Reader

NOTE: He’s so sweet I love him so bad HELP!

THE WEATHER WAS HARD TO PREDICT. That’s what you learned during your 23 years of life. It didn’t matter how long someone studied meteorology, because in the end, the earth had a mind of its own. It was scheduled to be a sunny day, and you and a group of friends were planning on hanging out.

Then it started to pour down rain. Which was fine, because you were all indoors anyway, but it made you dread the end of the hangout just a little bit more. You parked super far away, and you didn’t bring anything in preparation for a sudden downpour. It was rain like no other— The streets were nearly flooded. Most people had vacated the area to enjoy the comfort of their warm homes, putting their sunny-day-plans back in storage for another time. A few families came out in rain jackets and boots, dancing in the heavy showers.

“Well, we should start heading out soon.” You knew those words were coming, and yet you still didn’t want to hear them. Everyone in your friend group was starting to exchange goodbye hugs and verbal farewells, including towards you. You remained in your seat, fidgeting with the strap of your bag as it sat on your shoulder.

Alone. Or, you thought you were alone that is.

“Do you need me to order you an uber, Y/N?” You flinched at the sound of Oscar’s voice. You pivoted on your heel fast, eyes wide as they locked with his. He raised his brows, smiling when he realized he startled you. You must have thought he left too.

“Oh, you scared me.” You placed a hand on your heart, the two of you laughing quietly. You always forget what good company he is until you’re essentially forced to be alone with him. That’s how it always went. “No, it’s alright. I just… Parked pretty far away is all.”

You seemed exasperated. Oscar followed your gaze out the glass front doors, eyeing the rain. He put two and two together, nodding. “I can walk you to your car, then.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket, revealing a folded up umbrella. Your eyes lit up.

“Really? Thank you so much, Oscar!” Seeing you happy made him happy.

He didn’t need to go with you. He could have lended you the umbrella and just walked out to his own car, or drove you to yours—Hell, he could have offered you a ride, even! But no, he wanted to walk with you under this small umbrella, because Oscar was always looking for a reason to be around you.

You were a delight. Kind, pretty, considerate. The man was head over heels in love with you—he had been for years, but you were a little too oblivious to realize just how much he yearned for you. Your mutual friends said it was to an almost unhealthy degree, where all he talked about was you.

Apparently everyone but you knew. That fact killed him.

You both stepped out under the awning. Oscar extended the black umbrella, raising it over your heads so you could step out from beneath the shelter. Of course, you couldn’t both be fully covered, so while you huddled beneath the umbrella, your shoulders were still getting poured on. You didn’t mind, though, because at least the rest of you stayed dry.

“Rain was not forecasted,” He said softly, looking to start up light conversation.

“No, not at all.” It was evident by what you both were wearing, too. T-shirts and shorts with flip-flops—Or thongs, as Oscar liked to call them. You both looked ready for the beach. Not for a sudden flash flood. “Thankfully we didn’t make plans outside.”

He laughed, even though what you said wasn’t that funny. “Yeah, that’s true. I can’t imagine everyone scrambling to their cars if we were at the ocean or something.”

“Out on a yacht and it starts thundering,” You looked towards him, your heart fluttering at the sight of his eyes crinkled up in a smile, his bunny teeth peeking out.

Cute.

“I don’t think I could handle a yacht in a storm.”

“Me neither. I can barely handle yachts at all.” Talking about it so casually felt weird. You never expected to be at a point in your life where being on a huge boat was just a normal hangout plan. Oh how far we’ve come.

“Do you get sea sickness?”

“Sometimes, yeah. If I lie really still and close my eyes it’ll usually go away.” You both giggled, your shoulders brushing together.

You could see your car in the distance now, and you were starting to feel a little victorious. Oscar managed to make the journey more bearable with his delightful personality, something you had always taken for granted.

“Isn’t the weather kind of a weird thing?” He suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm. In general, yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s just weird how you can go your entire day thinking the weather is average, and then suddenly it rains, and your whole perspective changes.”

“Hm.” You made a thoughtful expression, casually shrugging your shoulders. “I guess, in that way, the weather’s kind of like people. You go your whole life living in the sun, and then someday it rains, and everything changes.”

You stop, now standing in front of your car. Oscar turns to face you, the umbrella casting a shadow over the both of your figures. You lock eyes. He’s silent.

He’s always silent.

“Are you still talking about the weather?” He breathes out his query, eyes trailing down. You can see the way he stares at your lips.

“No, Oscar.” You reply, your face shifting into a smile. “I’m talking about you.”

You pulled him down by the collar of his shirt, your lips crashing together. Took you long enough to realize how he felt, and now that it was finally happening… He was frozen.

He finally dropped the umbrella, his hands flying down to your waist. You were both pelted in rain, your clothes and hair soaked as you shared a passionate kiss.

[sslovqm]

YOU DON'T BELONG TO ANYONE ELSE

WARNING: Contains extreme jealousy, possessiveness, manipulation, and toxic relationship dynamics.

THE warm afternoon breeze brushed against your face as you waited for Rafe Cameron on the dock by his house. You had rehearsed this moment over and over, going through the words in your head, trying to find the best way to tell him that whatever this was between you two needed to end. But now that you were here, with your stomach tied in knots, it seemed like no words were enough.

When you heard the roar of his motorcycle engine cut off, your heart skipped a beat. You watched him approach with his usual confidence, hands in his pockets, an expression of curiosity mixed with that arrogance that always seemed to follow him.

“Why so serious?” he asked, a half-smile playing on his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“We need to talk, Rafe.”

His smile vanished instantly, replaced by a dark look you knew all too well.

“About what?” he asked, though it seemed like he already knew the answer.

You took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage that seemed to waver with every step he took closer to you.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do us anymore, Rafe.”

His reaction was immediate. His brows furrowed, and he stepped closer so fast that you instinctively stepped back.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m saying this doesn’t work. You don’t work, Rafe. You’re… you’re jealous, controlling, and you don’t even have the guts to tell anyone we’re together.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, devoid of any humor.

“That’s what this is about? That I won’t make it public? Really?”

You looked at him firmly, even though you were shaking inside.

“It’s not just that. It’s everything. You don’t let me breathe, Rafe. You’re always asking where I am, who I’m with. You treat me like I’m your property, and I’m not anyone’s.”

That seemed to ignite something in him, something dangerous.

“Oh, really?” he shot back, his voice low and chilling—sending shivers down your spine. “Because you seemed pretty comfortable being mine up until now.”

“I wasn’t. I was scared of you.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and the truth in them seemed to hit him like a slap. For a moment, the fury in his eyes wavered, but only for a second.

“This is about him, isn’t it?” he spat, his voice rising a notch. “About those damn Pogues. Is it Maybank? Of course, it’s him. That bastard always looks at you like he wants to rip your clothes off.”

“This has nothing to do with JJ!” you shouted, desperate to make him understand. “This is about you. About what you make me feel.”

Rafe stayed silent, but his jaw was clenched, and his fists were tight at his sides. Then he stepped closer, his face just inches from yours.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. I’m not letting you go.”

“You don’t have the right to decide that, Rafe.”

“You’re mine,” he insisted, his voice filled with a fervor that sent a chill down your spine. “And if you think I’m going to sit back while you run into that Pogue’s arms, you’re dead wrong.”

You stepped back, trying to put some distance between you, but he wouldn’t let you. His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly and forcing you to look at him.

“Let me go, Rafe.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but don’t push me.”

Your heart pounded as you tried to free your hand, but his grip was unrelenting. Finally, you managed to pull away, stepping back a few feet as you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

“This isn’t love, Rafe. And no matter how hard you try to hold on, I’m not staying.”

His gaze darkened even further, and for a second, you feared what he might do. But then, he just stood there, watching you as you turned around and walked away, feeling his stare burning into your back.

You knew this wasn’t the end, that Rafe Cameron wasn’t the type to let go of what he thought was his. But for the first time in a long time, you felt like you’d reclaimed a little bit of your freedom.