#i called a surprising amount of developments

[hadesoftheladies]

I’m surprised no one has talked about the Tea App yet on radblr. But apparently, someone created an app for women to share information about men in order to warn them about their views, their behaviour, or their experiences with men. Basically sorting the good from the bad. Men found out about it and started calling it “the slander app.” For some reason, the app required users to sign in with their driver’s licenses.

of course, this data leak was carried out by a bitter man, even if the app wasn’t really built with strong security. it doesn’t erase the fact that a man, within a few weeks if not days of this app being used, went out of his way to dox these women and stop them from sharing vital information. of course, no one, even a man, would like to know that their intimate lives have been discussed with the public, but for women there is clearly a higher stake in regard to security in the dating sphere. and doxing men would not be anywhere near the amount of insecurity women who are doxxed would face. especially for the “crime of slander” AKA telling other women the truth.

some users have sympathized with the women (mostly women but some men) while others have ridiculed, mocked and celebrated this data leak (mostly male users).

why am I sharing this? one, bc I really do think we are at a place where cybersecurity and online privacy needs to be taken a lot more seriously by the average user—especially if they’re female. there is a lot of data I personally have out there despite my reserved use of social media. this is more than the “Wild West” now. you have to be really stingy with the details you put online. develop strategies for using different apps like taxi services or whatever while putting pressure on companies to ensure safety for those that use their services. two, bc this gives me hope. women can, have and will continue to organize and it makes me excited to see this new era of techno-feminism and separatism! situations like these, while they may be disheartening, also allow us to test what works and what needs improvement for it to work seamlessly. especially in the tech space. while I’m sorry that these women have been put at risk, I also know this means apps like these will have stronger models in the future bc that’s how tech works. not only that, but it shows a potential market for female-only spaces not just online but irl, which I think will make it more of a trend moving forward.

[lu-is-not-ok]

I feel like I got hit with a shotgun.

I think I should be allowed to hunt Hong Lu for sport.

[nkogneatho]

— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍

—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso

—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.

—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️

introduction to the universe:

Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.

“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.

The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.

“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.

“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.

“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.

“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.

“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.

“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.

“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.

“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.

“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.

“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.

“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.

“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.

“I am over-lactating.”

“What happened to the breast cups?”

“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.

“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.

“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his cock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.

“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.

“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.

“Lwove it.”

“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.

“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.

“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?

“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.

“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”

Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.

“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.

“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.

“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”

“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.

“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.

Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.

“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.

“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”

“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”

“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.

“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.

“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”

“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.

“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.

Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.

“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Then he had the audacity to—”

“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.

After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?

You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.

Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.

“Are you okay?”

“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”

“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.

“L/N-san, this isn't right—”

“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.

Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.

“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.

He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.

“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.

You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.

“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.

“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.

“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.

“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.

“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.

“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.

@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat

[wintrbears]

Cradle Robbers: The Third Trimester | JJK

Summary: Everything feels different after having the worst scare of your life, but your baby's due date is fast approaching and there's still plenty more important things to do than rifle through your ever-growing feelings for Jungkook. He certainly doesn't make it easy on you when he's constantly sweeping you off your feet.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Pregnancy AU, Childhood Friends to FWB to Lovers, Slow-Burn, Smut, Fluff, Crack, Angst (barely, you have to squint to see it)

Word Count: 24.9k+

Warnings: pregnancy, childbirth, water breaking, talks of bodily fluids, blood, blood transfusion, mentions of dizziness, anxiety, surprises, gifts, alcohol, thunderstorms, hospitals, doctors, nurses, scrubs, wheelchairs, crying, screaming, extreme physical pain, airplanes. SMUT: kissing, cuddling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, big dick jk!!!, oral sex (m receiving), doggy, dick riding, titty play, lactation kink, making out in the shower, cream pie, grinding, hair pulling, choking, manhandling, ok I think that might be it!

Author's Note: I actually cannot believe the final chapter is here. the amount of love I've received from this story is so overwhelming and it makes me unbelievably happy that you guys love these two as much as I do. here's to an epic conclusion for our couple and their beautiful baby! if you’ve given birth and see any inaccuracies pls just look the other way lol. also, to the anon that asked me about a lactation kink and I said no... I promise I'm not a liar you just inspired me to add one. thank you all so much for all the support. enjoy, my lovely readers :)

-> Cradle Robbers Masterpost

SEVEN

You sincerely hope your fellow grocery shoppers don’t see you with six bottles of wine balancing on your baby bump and think you’re a monster. It obviously isn’t for you, but stranger things have happened and you have no control over what these people may think of you. 

The sole reason you’re purchasing copious amounts of alcohol is because it’s wine night, and tonight is the inaugural gathering at your house. The girls are all unbelievably excited to see the illustrious home, including the partially decorated nursery they’ve only seen via video call.

It’s since been painted a neutral beige color with an adorable cat and dog mural on the wall behind the crib. More artwork occupies the remaining walls, including a set of picture frames containing photos of you and Jungkook from childhood until now. The furniture’s all been built at this point, although some of it still needs to be placed and secured to the wall. The ample supply of stuffed animals provided by none other than your baby’s father reside in a hammock above the rocking chair. 

Jungkook will be at Namjoon’s tonight along with the other guys so you can have the place to yourselves, which you’re grateful for since it wouldn’t be very conducive to conversation if a central topic of your gossip is present. He certainly doesn’t need his ego stroked by you enthusiastically retelling the girls about all your wild sexual encounters. 

Visually taking stock of your haul, which mostly consists of junk food and wine, you mentally run through your shopping list one last time before heading to the checkout. The employee scanning your items looks surprised when she glances between your belly and the wine collection, but thankfully doesn’t comment on the questionable items. She informs you of the total and you tap Jungkook’s black card against the machine. Once you hear the familiar chime, you thank the woman and steer your cart towards the parking lot.

A recent development of your pregnancy is that you began your third and final trimester by quitting your job, hence why you’re paying for groceries with Jungkook’s card and not your own.

It’s been on the table for a while now, with you and Jungkook discussing it here and there over the last couple months. After crunching the numbers, the two of you mutually agreed it’s for the best. Since your salary is astronomically smaller than Jungkook’s, you would lose more money paying for childcare than by removing your salary from the equation altogether. 

Being a stay-at-home mom was never the plan, even when you were younger, but now that you’re pregnant, the idea is more appealing than ever. Not only do you want to be present for all the special moments of their childhood, but Jungkook is loaded and there’s no reason to pay for a nanny or daycare when he can care for you financially while you take care of things at home. 

Truthfully, it’s been difficult depending on him, not because he makes it so, but because you still feel guilty using his money. Your last paycheck was about two weeks ago, so you’re exclusively using his funds and the first time you tapped his card against the machine you nearly bit your lip off. On the flip side, Jungkook’s been profusely scolding you for refusing to go on a huge spending spree with his no limit credit card. 

He’s been continuously sending you links to buy expensive jewelry, clothes, and handbags, and threatens to buy them for you himself if you don’t run his bank account dry soon. It’s the first time in his life you’ve given him the go ahead to support you in that way and he’s adamant about you taking advantage of the opportunity. 

Ironically, the only thing you’ve bought other than essentials is a gift for him. 

Last week his gaming headset snapped in half when Bam decided they were a perfect seat. Jungkook was rightfully distraught and refused to look his beloved pet in the eye for the remainder of the evening. Determined to mend their relationship, you went out the following morning to buy him the latest and greatest. 

When you presented him the gift, Jungkook lifted you so far above his head in excitement you feared hitting the ceiling. Despite his own bank account decreasing, the thoughtfulness of your act sent him over the moon with joy. He attacked you with kisses once your feet met the ground again, and you had to pry him off you before your lips turned purple. 

Independence is a key character trait of yours, so this new lifestyle is definitely an adjustment, but it would be a lie to say it doesn’t feel just a little bit nice using a card that doesn’t have your own name on it. 

During your drive home, the contact image of Jungkook positively cheesing next to your most recent ultrasound photo appears on the dashboard screen. Your heart does an involuntary flip at the sight, and you press the green answer button just as the car turns down your street.

“Hey, baby.”

Despite his usage of a pet name, Jungkook sounds exasperated, and maybe slightly annoyed, when the phone connects.

“Koo? Is everything alright?”

“No, Bams,” he admits begrudgingly. “There’s a leak under the kitchen faucet. It’s pretty bad. I don’t think we can have the girls over tonight, but I already called the Blue Lagoon Lounge and booked a room for you guys. The drinks and food are all paid for already. So, text the girls to let them know and have fun, okay?”

“What? Jungkook, are you sure? If the leak isn’t going to take more than a couple hours I can just tell the girls to come later.”

“No, no,” Jungkook says. “Just go enjoy yourself and I’ll take care of this. I don’t want your night to be cut short at all. The reservation is under Jeon.”

“Alright,” you mumble. “Love you, talk to you soon.”

“Love you more, Bambi, I’ll see you soon.”

You voice-to-text your group chat to reiterate the news and your friends are downright ecstatic about having access to unlimited free food and drinks. 

In fact, the last text to ping your phone from Tzuyu reads: “thank you so fucking much for getting knocked up by a sexy millionaire. I owe you my life.” The three other members of the chat heart react the message. 

When you arrive at the restaurant, you look down and mentally congratulate yourself on already being dressed in your attire for the evening. It’s unusually warm for this time of year, so you’re in a floral tea-length dress with your hair up. Your friend group doesn’t normally get dolled up for these occasions, but Mina is finally ready to reacclimate herself to the dating scene and suggested a mini photoshoot for your choice of entertainment tonight. 

The Blue Lagoon Lounge is massive, with a full dining room, smaller private suites, and large banquet halls in the back. Upon telling the hostess the name, she leads you through a couple of winding hallways and rooms. She gestures towards a pair of double doors once you reach your destination and you gaze at her inquisitively, wondering if she got the room right. Sensing your confusion, she nods to reaffirm her guidance and steps aside so you can enter. 

The moment your feet cross the threshold, the eruption of sound from inside the room makes you jump in shock.

“SURPRISE!” 

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as your jaw falls open.

All of your friends and family are scattered around the large room which overlooks the river on the edge of your city. The multitude of round tables which occupy the space are decorated beautifully with white, purple, and yellow flowers along with gorgeous fine china place settings. There’s a liberal sized bar along the back wall and an even bigger buffet table in the corner closest to you.  

When your surveying eyes land on Jungkook, who's standing with your friends beside the grand, floor length windows, he smirks and wiggles his phone in accomplishment. 

“You little liar!” 

“I did good, right?”

“Yes, which is concerning because you’re a terrible liar,” you say while approaching them.

“Oh, don’t worry, he needed plenty of coaching,” Mina states.

“We went over the script four times,” Nayeon mentions.

“And my hands still shook!” Jungkook responds before holding his hand up to show you it twitching. 

You clasp the appendage between your own and kiss his knuckles, pulling him into you for a tight embrace. He laughs heartily as his arms latch around you, tugging you up against him until your heels lift from the floor. His hand holds the nape of your neck while you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to him. “This is amazing.”

“I didn’t do anything besides pay for it, Bambi. Your friends did all this,” he tells you. 

“Uh, see, now he’s getting a little too good at lying,” Tzuyu says from behind you. “It was his idea, Y/N.”

You reluctantly depart from his warmth, but lace your fingers together while you stand side by side.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head modestly. “I mentioned it once in passing and you guys took it from there.”

“So humble, JK,” Jihyo clicks her tongue disapprovingly. 

Hugging the girls one by one, you thank them for sacrificing a wine night for your surprise baby shower before moving throughout the room to greet everyone else who came to celebrate you.

Jungkook follows closely behind with a hand on your lower back, thanking everyone for coming with an adorable bow of his head. He does it so much that at one point you place your hand beneath his chin to stop him so he doesn’t get a headache. 

Your parents are last, but of course not least, and you don’t miss the way your moms make eye contact with matching cheshire grins when they notice where Jungkook’s hand resides. 

The six of you exchange hugs and your mom holds your hands afterwards, excitedly shaking them in the air. 

“Oh sweetie, weren’t you so surprised?” She asks.

“Yes! It was the last thing I was expecting, but I’m so grateful everyone came,” you answer her.

“You’re glowing, sweetpea,” your dad comments.

Once the greetings are complete, everyone moseys around grabbing drinks and placing their gifts on the long table at the front of the room. You join Jungkook at the bar to grab his drink, which he thrice pretends to hand you before pulling it back with an annoyingly cute giggle. Rolling your eyes, you take his hand and lead him to the little sweetheart table at the very center of the wall of windows which faces the rest of the room.

Before tables are dismissed one by one to grab food from the buffet, Jihyo stands and clinks a fork against her glass to garner everyone’s attention. 

“Hi everyone, for those who don’t know me, I’m Jihyo. I want to say a little something before we eat and celebrate the amazing woman sitting at the front of the room.” She beckons towards you with her hands and the sound of everyone’s cheers turns your face bright red. “Y/N is the most loving, caring, wonderful soul I’ve ever known and although it wasn’t planned,” she purposely whispers the last word, sending a wave of laughter across the room. “I am absolutely certain she’ll be the most amazing mother the world has ever known. I love you so much, babe, and I can’t wait to meet your little one.” 

She raises her glass for a toast, and you parrot the act with your virgin mimosa. 

“I believe the little one’s daddy also has something he’d like to say?”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, his hand pointing to his chest in surprise, clearly not expecting the spotlight. Jihyo nods encouragingly and shoots him a double thumbs up as she takes her seat. Always one for a challenge, Jungkook cracks his neck, clicks his tongue, and clears his throat before standing with his drink in hand. 

“Hello,” Jungkook says quietly while fidgeting with his shirt collar. “I’m fairly certain everyone here knows me, since you can’t really know Bambi without knowing me, too.” He taps his fingers against his glass as he ponders his next move. “I, um…” You squeeze his hand where it rests on his thigh and a smile creeps onto his face, his eyes briefly catching your supportive gaze. “Jihyo’s right, this wasn’t planned, not even a little bit, but it was without a doubt the best surprise of my life.” 

Jungkook’s ears go red to match the blush painting his cheeks. 

“I’m so incredibly thankful to call her my best friend and the mother of my child. I know I’ll never be able to repay her for everything she’s going through to bring our little one into the world. Her body and mind have been through hell and I’ve spent my entire life chasing away whatever may bring her pain and sorrow, so it’s been really challenging to feel so helpless. But she handles everything so beautifully, with so much grace and understanding, and I grow more in awe of her with every passing day.” 

He takes a deep breath and faces you with his glass held high. 

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Bams, and there’s nothing you deserve more than to be celebrated for everything you do and will do in the future as a mother. I love you more than words can describe, Y/N.”

You gasp, your hands slapping against your mouth as tears immediately threaten your waterline. It’s been nearly two decades since the last time you heard the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, and you don’t think the syllables have ever sounded so beautiful. 

Jungkook smiles devilishly at the exact reaction he was hoping to pull from you. 

Your head falls forward as you cry into your palms, the kindhearted words from both him and Jihyo making your heart clench from all the love it’s receiving. Jungkook returns to his seat to console you, letting you cry on his shoulder instead. 

“You said my name,” you whimper.

The sound of his low chuckle meets your ears.

“Don’t get used to it, Bambi.”

He places multiple kisses between the strands of your hair and wipes the remaining tears away after you raise your head. If you weren’t currently surrounded by loved ones, you’d kiss him senseless and probably drop to your knees if you’re being totally honest.

When you glance around the room after falling back into your chair with a sigh, you notice your mom dabbing her waterline with a tissue while his mom reapplies the makeup under her eyes. You giggle and nudge Jungkook to show him, and he joins in your adoration of the two women with a loving shake of his head. 

Following dinner, your four friends run a series of typical baby shower games, some of which are guessing games while others require basic baby knowledge. 

You barely partake in the festivities yourself, too busy goofing off with Jungkook as he writes the most incorrect answers imaginable. The two of you laugh hysterically through every question as if you’re the only ones present, despite being the sole reason for the celebration.

An executive decision is made to open gifts at home rather than have everyone watch you ooh and aww at baby trinkets for an hour. It’s far more appealing to you to walk around and mingle with your loved ones, which is precisely what you do after dessert. 

“It’s the woman of the hour!” Yunjin cheers as you place yourself on Chaewon’s lap and rest your head on her shoulder.

“Thank you guys so much for coming,” you tell them.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Hoseok states.

“We’re so happy for you, Y/N, and we’re so excited to be aunts and uncles,” Namjoon says.

“Also, are you and Jungkook like… a thing, because eyes don’t lie and that man is googoo gaga for you,” Eunchae asks. 

“And it’s not like you’re any better,” Yoongi adds.

You nibble on your lip as your eyes peruse the room and land on Jungkook’s silhouette standing beside your dads. 

“No, at least, not officially, but something’s definitely changed recently,” you answer honestly.

“How so?” Jin asks.

“You guys know how we went through that awful miscarriage scare last month?” They all nod. “Well, ever since then it feels like the energy’s shifted. Neither of us have said anything, but I know we both feel it. I mean, I’ve slept in his bed every night since, we constantly kiss outside of sexual activities, and we’ve started casually calling each other baby.”

“Oh, so you guys are like, in love love,” Jimin states.

“I don’t know,” you respond. “He’s always taken up nearly my entire heart, but I’m still figuring out if he’s finally got a monopoly on it or not.”

“Y/N, honey, you said so yourself you’ve never been happier,” Chaewon notes. “Don’t overthink it.”

You flash her a grateful smile as a thank you for her advice before telling them you’ll see them later and going to converse with your other guests.  

At one point, you realize you haven’t seen Taehyung or Mina in a while and do a once over of the room. When you spot them cuddled up in the back corner giggling to each other, you smirk. They hooked up once a few years ago before Mina started dating Mingyu, and you would be more than happy to see them rekindle their affair.

You catch Jungkook’s attention from across the room and point to them as nonchalantly as possible. When his eyes land on them, they light up and he makes a proud OK sign with his hand. 

Some people stay for a while and others wish you good luck with the delivery before sunset, but by the time Jungkook is done loading all the presents in your dad’s truck, only your parents remain.  

“Oh, shit, I don’t have a car,” Jungkook states when he returns for a final sweep of the room. “I drove over here with Tzuyu.”

It wouldn’t normally be an issue since you and him could drive home together, but for storage purposes your parents are taking the gifts home and he has to follow behind your dad to help bring them inside. 

“Just take my car and I’ll go with my mom,” you suggest.

Everyone exchanges goodbyes and you tell Jungkook you’ll see him later at home. He bends down to kiss your cheek after you hug him, and it forces you to hide a radiant blush crawling up your face and neck.

It’s familiar being in the passenger seat of your mom’s car, although it's been a while. She drives through the city towards your house with the radio on low, but you can already tell she’s itching to speak.

“Sweetie, you know you can tell me anything, right?” Sensing where this is going, you inhale exasperatedly. “No, don’t give me excuses. I know you’ve been keeping things from me because you don’t want me to get my hopes up.”

You sit back in your seat, your arms crossing over each other. 

“It’s just not any of your business, Mom,” you tell her.

“I don’t need to know everything, especially that stuff, but I can tell you have a lot on your mind. And I know something is going on. I see the way you look at him and how he looks at you. It’s not the same as it was before.” She squeezes your thigh lovingly. “Just talk to me, sweetheart.”

“There… there isn’t much to say.” She sends a disapproving glance in your direction. “Okay, yeah, maybe things have changed, but I don’t know in what way yet. I think we’re both happy with the way things are and don’t feel a need to label it or discuss it. Maybe once the baby’s born, we will.”

“Are you alright with that? You usually tell Jungkook everything the very moment it enters your mind.”

“It’s different this time. I’m not afraid to tell him or worry I’ll get rejected, but it just feels like we’re in this perfect bubble of joy and love and I don’t want to pop it.”

“What if it doesn’t pop, though? What if it makes the bubble even stronger?”

You toss her words around in your mind, nodding your head as your brain parses through the information.

“That would be nice.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you, sweetie, and I don’t want you to ever take my feelings into account when yours are the only ones that matter, but I want all the happiness in the world for you and that boy is heaven sent.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile. “He is. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“That would be me,” she proudly reminds you. 

You laugh with your head thrown back. And to think, the only reason you’re all here today is because their university randomly assigned them to be roommates. 

She drops you off at home with a hug and kiss on your cheek. Once inside, you hear Usagi meowing in annoyance at someone and when you round the corner, you see Jungkook rolling her back and forth on the couch as though she’s a furry rolling pin. He merely giggles at her indignation and attacks her little head with kisses. 

“Leave my daughter alone, will you?”

“Hey, she’s my daughter, too,” Jungkook retorts with a pout. When he turns over his shoulder to see you, the pout’s long gone and been replaced by a peaceful smile. “Did you have fun tonight, Bambi?”

He stands to full height and slides his hands into his pockets, still dressed in his attire from the evening sans the sport coat. His poor dress shirt is barely holding on by a thread where it lays across his chest, the buttons holding on for dear life to fit over the contours of his pecs. The slacks he’s wearing aren’t doing much better, with the black fabric stretched tight to accommodate the muscular thighs beneath. It makes both your mouth and pussy water.

“Of course, I did! I can’t thank you enough, Koo,” you say while meeting him by the couch. 

“There’s no need to thank me, baby. You deserve it.”

“Well, I can think of something that you deserve in return,” you propose using the sultry eyes you know he melts for everytime. 

His eyebrows twitch upwards, an anticipatory smile growing as he holds your gaze. Instead of waiting for a reply, your hand shoves at his shoulder to send him tumbling backwards into the couch. Knees automatically spreading wide open for you, you use your leverage on his thighs to kneel before him.

“Bams, you don’t have to,” he tells you, but his hand is already in your hair as you unbuckle his belt. 

“I want to.” You bend down to kiss him over his boxers once his pants are in a puddle around his ankles. “I want to so fucking bad, baby.”

Jungkook moans when your tongue presses down on the fabric and causes his dick to twitch. You quickly pull the garment down his legs and let it fall atop his slacks. He’s already sporting a semi that makes your thighs clench, the sight of his thick cock slowly becoming one of your favorites. 

Pumping him with your hand, you kiss and bite his thick thighs until he’s rock hard and leaking precum down your palm. You lick over his slit with a hungry moan and Jungkook throws his head back against the couch in response. 

“Oh, babygirl, that feels so fucking good.”

His hand becomes a ponytail, pulling all the strands away from your face so you can work unhindered and he has a clear view of you sucking him off. 

Your lips leisurely wrap around his head while you stare into his steadily darkening eyes. When you use suction and torturously swirl your tongue beneath the ridge separating the head from his shaft, Jungkook’s hips buck up involuntarily and you have to hold him still by his thighs. Slowly, all without ever looking away, you sink lower and lower until you’re gagging around him because he’s scratching the back of your throat. 

Jungkook cries out in pleasure, his free hand grasping desperately onto one of yours to give him something to hold onto. 

Swallowing a couple times while he’s buried deep in your throat, you allow a teasingly long moment to pass before finally sticking your tongue out and bobbing your head along his cock. He groans deliriously and his thighs shake as you sloppily work your mouth over him, doing so because you know exactly how much he loves to see the drool spilling from your lips. 

“Good girl, that’s my good fucking girl,” Jungkook praises nonsensically. “Mouth was fucking made for me.”

When you moan around him in agreement, your spit meets his balls below and you use it as an excuse to play with them in your free hand. Jungkook’s jaw clenches and the hand holding yours harshly squishes your digits together. You change gears upon the realization of how worked up the action makes him, sucking one of his balls into your mouth and replacing your tight throat with your hand.

“Oh, Jesus, Bams,” he shouts as you suckle the sensitive skin. 

After languidly curling your tongue around him for a moment, you switch and repeat the treatment for the other one, mirroring the pace of your hand to match the way your tongue works his sack. Returning to the main event, you flatten your tongue along the underside of his shaft until reaching the tip and spitting on him so you can bring him between your lips again.

Unfortunately, you’re only able to take him into your warm throat a few more times before he’s pulling you away by your hair.

You pout and place your hands on your hips.

“Koo, I wanna swallow your cum.”

“Nuh uh, I’m gonna put another fucking baby in you,” he states, his eyes completely overtaken by lust.

Jungkook manhandles you like a ragdoll until you’re face down ass up on the couch with him situated behind you. His hands grab the bottom hem of your dress and flip it upwards to reveal your underwear, which you only realize he rips off of you when you hear the sound of the fabric tearing.

“Koo!”

“Don’t complain when you know I can buy you a thousand more.” His fingers immediately find your pussy to check if you’re wet enough, and when you hear the pleased chuckle from behind you, you know he’s got his answer. “You got this wet just from sucking me off, baby?” 

You nod your head and Jungkook smacks your ass hard enough to leave a mark. 

“Yes!” Jungkook hums in satisfaction and you whine when he soothes the burn with his palm. “Jungkook, baby, please fuck me.”

You compliment your begging by wiggling your ass, and Jungkook moans appreciatively at the sight, his fingers grasping your flesh possessively. He slowly runs his dick along your sopping wet folds and you automatically keen and whimper for more. His movements continue that way for a tauntingly long amount of time, teasing you with just enough to keep you from going crazy. The only relief you’re given is when his tip brushes against your sensitive nub and provides you with delicious friction. 

An angrier version of your prior instruction is about to leave your mouth when Jungkook brutally spears you on his cock. In one single stroke he’s entirely sheathed within your walls and you scream out in ecstasy while your head falls forward. His pace can only be described as goddamn insane, or maybe those are just the only words you can think of when the huge dick ramming into your pussy is making your brain blank.

From behind Jungkook’s tip kisses your cervix with every thrust and you moan without restraint as he monstrously fucks your cunt open. His hand returns to your hair, the other one clutching the back of the couch so he can keep a steady rhythm. You feel his wet balls slapping your clit with every stroke and it makes you bite down on the skin of your hand. 

“Gonna fucking ruin you, Bams,” he warns. “I don’t want you to be able to walk tomorrow, you got that?”

“Fuck, yes,” you agree without a second thought. 

You can stay in bed all day for all you care, all you want is for Jungkook to keep stretching you apart and making you his. You don’t want your pussy to remember any other shape but his cock, want your flesh to memorize every ridge and vein so it knows exactly who’s coming home when he enters you. 

Jungkook was already close when he started fucking you, so he’s doing everything he can for you to reach the same precipice. He repeatedly slams his hips into your ass as he yanks hard enough on your hair that he can almost see your eyes from his position. His hand wraps around your throat, pressing down on your jugular until his fingers leave blotchy, red marks. A second later, he’s forcing you upright until your back meets his chest and he traps you there by looping his other arm beneath your tits. 

The new angle makes you whine pathetically as he buries his dick so deep you feel him in your throat. 

“Baby, holy shit.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook licks the sweat off your neck. “Whose pussy is this, baby?”

“Yours,” you moan weakly.

You would be more than willing to scream from the rooftops just how much your body belongs to him, but you can’t exactly speak very loud when you’re choking on the euphoria he’s providing you.

Coincidentally, your volume isn’t good enough for Jungkook.

“Louder,” he growls right into your ear.

“It’s yours, Jungkook!”

“That’s fucking right.”

His hand leaves your neck after gently constricting your airway to massage your clit instead, pushing two of his fingers into your mouth to lubricate them first. He circles and presses down hard on the nub to make you keen and throw your head back against his shoulder. He utterly devours your neck from behind, his spit coating your skin in a pretty sheen as he moves from one spot to the next. 

You feel his hand disappear from your pussy and whine disapprovingly, but then his middle fingers are sliding into your mouth again so you can suck your juices off his digits. Erotically licking around and between his fingers, you hollow your cheeks and suck so he can feel your tight throat again. 

He groans and bites on your earlobe.

“So good for me, Bambi,” he whispers darkly. “You’re fucking perfect, baby.” 

He removes his fingers from your mouth and they return to your cunt, rubbing your clit in fast circles to get you to where you need to be.

“I’m — fuck. I’m close, Koo.”

“Atta girl. Come on this fat cock,” he commands. 

Jungkook releases you and pushes you down by your shoulder blades, forcing your cheek into the cushions as you arch and match his cadence by thrusting your hips backwards. You scream into the fabric when he speeds up and abuses your hole at a demonic pace. 

The clapping is obscene and deafening, and you’re fairly certain you hear his pans rattling in the kitchen from where they hang down. 

Your climax builds to an impossible level before crashing over you like a tsunami wave of pure pleasure. There’s a combination of drool and tears left behind on the couch cushions. The room goes white when your vision blanks, your legs twitching along with your pussy as the orgasm tears through you and you helplessly sob Jungkook’s name.

The feeling of Jungkook’s seed filling your cunt makes you cry his name repeatedly like a prayer, the sensation of it dripping down your thighs heavenly enough to make your eyesight blur.

Jungkook pants irregularly for a while before pulling out and resting on your back, the two of you toppling down and lying flat against the couch as your bodies return to normalcy. 

“Goddamn, Bambi,” Jungkook huffs. 

“Me?” 

Jungkook just laughs breathlessly, kissing your cheek through the curtain of your hair. 

You remain as deadweight together on the couch until you finally feel whole enough to return to earth, and once you do, you walk hand-in-hand to Jungkook’s bedroom to catch a good night’s sleep.

A couple days later, after you can indeed walk properly again, you’re completing miscellaneous chores around the house while Jungkook finishes securing the furniture in the nursery.

It’s already been an outrageously long day, especially with the weight of your unborn child applying a disastrous amount of pressure on your lower back. Your little one’s recent growth spurt makes it nearly impossible to stand for longer than thirty minutes without reprieve. When Jungkook comes downstairs and notices you rubbing your lower back with one hand while white-knuckling the counter with the other, he rushes to you and replaces your hand with his own to massage your spine.

“Oh, thank you,” you sigh in relief. 

“I got you, babygirl,” he says with a kiss to your shoulder. A moment later he seemingly remembers something, an adorable noise of realization coming from beside you. “Wait, I saw something on the internet I wanted to try.”

“Jungkook, no.”

“No, wait, Bams, it’s supposed to help!”

You eye him dangerously over your shoulder, alerting him without a word that if this is a prank he’ll be in for a rude awakening. 

He ignores your warning glance and uses his hands to stand you upright. You feel his arms circling you to hold beneath your baby bump and you’re ready to ask what he’s doing when suddenly the weight of your womb and the pressure on your back disappears. 

Looking down, you see Jungkook holding your stomach up for you, relieving the ache and allowing you to breathe freely. 

“Oh, wow, that’s really nice,” you mumble as your head falls to his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll do it as long as you like, Bams,” he tells you honestly. 

He does exactly that, holding the weight of your unborn child on your behalf for about ten minutes while you relish in the feeling of being weightless for a while. The act eventually joins his foot rubs and serenades as a part of your regular routine.

You’re lounging on the couch reading another parenting book while Jungkook plays a video game with your feet in his lap. It’s actually a test run for the game he’s been designing, and Jimin was absolutely right about him giving your character huge boobs. They’re tasteful, though, and you don’t mind because she’s a total badass. 

The game is currently distracting you from your book when you feel a strange sensation in your belly. You jump a little, looking down at your baby bump which is on display since you’re only wearing a bralette. The sensation happens again, and now that you’re watching intently, you see something move beneath your skin. 

Gasping in excitement, you begin hitting Jungkook with your book to grab his attention.

“Koo! Koo! The baby is kicking,” you shout even though he’s inches away from you.

His reaction is instantaneous, pausing the game and tossing the controller unceremoniously on the couch. Your hand traverses your belly so you can feel the next kick, and when you do, it makes you squeal and giggle in amazement. 

“Here, give me your hand,” you say and he stretches his arm towards you in response.

Placing his hand where you felt the movement, you wait and watch his face instead of your belly, wanting to see his reaction when he feels his baby move for the first time. The sensation comes, and you see Jungkook’s brow crease before his whole face lights up, his big brown eyes sparkling brighter than any star in the galaxy. 

“That’s… that’s our little one?” He asks in awe. You nod repeatedly and he smiles so big it takes up his entire face. “Hi, baby,” he coos in adoration, bending down to kiss all over your stomach. 

They kick again while he’s smooching you and he yelps in surprise at the feeling. 

You’re both blushing and giggling like schoolgirls with a crush, already so completely spellbound by your child. 

Jungkook carefully crawls over you to kiss you, but it’s all teeth and tongue because you can’t stop smiling even while trying to lock lips. You whimper in pain after a moment and Jungkook pulls back to check on you, his hand rising to caress your cheek.

“Seems our baby found my spine to kick instead,” you groan. 

Jungkook frowns and runs his thumb along your cheekbone.

“I guess wanting them to grow up to be a soccer player isn’t such a good thing after all,” he notes. Then, a thought occurs to him and his eyes light up again while he giggles to himself. “Hey, guess what?”

“Hmm?”

“Bambi.” He points to you. “And Thumper.” He points to your bump.

An endeared giggle completely overtakes your body, the back of your head hitting the arm of the couch while you rapidly kick your feet. 

“That’s so cute, Koo!” You hold his face in your hands. “Our family Halloween costumes are gonna be freaking adorable!” 

Jungkook’s expression turns saccharine as his eyes trace over your features in wonderment, and his gaze makes you realize it’s the first time you’re referring to yourselves as a family. The notion is obvious, but hearing the word aloud causes both your hearts to leap into your throat. You share in an adoring chuckle again, your foreheads meeting as you serenely close your eyes.

EIGHT

Jungkook blares “It’s the Final Countdown” from his Bluetooth speaker as he enthusiastically skips around the living room, both Bam and Usagi trailing after him in wonder. You’re too busy laughing from your place on the couch to join them. 

Today is exactly one month from your due date, and you’re prepared for this to be the single longest month of your life. The last eight have felt more like eight years, but you’re so close to the promised land, and you can hardly wait to bring your little one home. If you’re lucky, the baby may even come a little early and save you some heartache. 

And the heartache is literal, since one of the latest symptoms to add itself to the disastrous mix is intense heartburn. Couple that with the incessant kicking your child’s been getting up to lately, and your entire torso feels like it’s under siege. 

Jungkook does everything he can to help, such as constantly passing you Tums and playfully scolding your baby to stop kicking so much. He even went so far as to lace up his boxing gloves and have a sparring match with your baby bump. The extreme laughter born from his antics ended up hurting your stomach more than the kicking. 

The chemistry between you has been steadily increasing for some time, the line between friends and lovers practically blurring into obscurity, but you both welcome the feeling with open arms. 

You don’t find it necessary to broach the topic. You and Jungkook have never needed words to communicate, always knowing precisely what the other is thinking with a single glance, and it’s no different in this scenario.

Every time your eyes meet you know he feels the same; you’re no longer just best friends, and that’s alright.

About a week later you’re in the nursery together working on some finishing touches to the decor. Jungkook is hanging the mobile above the crib while you place the astronomical amount of clothes you received from your surprise baby shower in the closet. The nursery is positively jam packed from all the gifts people gave you last month, every corner of the room bursting with clothes, books, toys, and accessories. Even though the ample amount of supplies is overwhelming, knowing your little one is already so loved makes you abundantly happy. 

Chaewon even crocheted the perfect gender neutral blanket, despite her original complaints about the gender being unknown. 

Since the gender is a surprise, you and Jungkook haven’t discussed baby names all that much. Some general ideas have been thrown around, including family names and a sarcastic suggestion of “JJ” for Jungkook Jr. But you both share in the, perhaps naive, belief that as soon as you see them you’ll somehow know exactly what their name should be. 

Jungkook’s work phone rings, and you briefly glance over your shoulder to see him exiting the room as he answers the call. Usagi happily trots inside with the door wide open and curls up in the little reading nook. You give her some well deserved head pats while she purrs in content before continuing with your assigned task. Once all the clothes are either hung up or housed in the proper drawers, you leave the room to check on Jungkook.

When you find him after descending the stairs, he’s standing at the kitchen island drinking a glass of water which he slams down once it’s empty. Your eyebrows quirk up at the harsh motion, wondering what the call could’ve been about to elicit such a reaction.

“Koo, is everything alright?”

Jungkook shakes his head and rests his elbows on the counter so he can cradle his head in his hands.

“They need me to go to Japan for a meeting with some execs,” he tells you. 

“For how long?”

“Three days minimum, but it could be up to a week.”

“A week? Jungkook, I’m more than eight months pregnant.”

“Yeah, I know, Bambi, I told them that!” He explains in exasperation. “Fuck, this sucks so bad.”

You take a deep breath so at least one of you remains calm. Once you’re beside him, you attempt to massage the tension away from his back and shoulders.

“It’ll be okay. Japan is only a short airplane ride away. Worst comes to worst, you fly back if I go into labor,” you state.

“It’s not just if you go into labor, Bams. This is our last month before the baby is born. We’ve still got a ton to do!”

“The nursery is almost done, and either of our parents or friends can come over to help me clean and baby proof the house.” You tug on his shoulder so he turns around before cupping his face in your hands. “It’ll be fine, baby, I promise.”

Jungkook sighs before nuzzling his head against your hand, pursing his lips to press a couple chaste kisses to your palm. Afterwards he removes your hands from his face altogether to hold them between his own.

“I just don’t want to be away from you, baby,” he admits. “Not now and especially not for that long.”

Your cheeks grow warm in response to his words and you attempt to pacify his melancholy by giving him a tender kiss on the lips.

“I don’t want to be away from you, either, but I’m sure it will go by in the blink of an eye,” you reassure him. 

He aggressively pouts, practically giving himself duck lips, despite knowing it’s the truth. He brings you to his chest for a hug and you snuggle deeper into the embrace, allowing his familiar, comforting scent to encompass you.

You still have the weekend together before Jungkook flies out early Monday morning. You spend the majority of the time cuddling on the couch watching your favorite movies and playing with your fur babies as Bam chases a bone and Usagi hunts for the laser pointer. It’s heartwarmingly domestic and you hope it’ll always be this way, especially once your baby arrives.

Whenever you’re lounging around, Jungkook always lies as close as possible to your belly and it warms your heart to watch his fingers trace little hearts and smiley faces across your skin. 

Even after eight months he still upholds the tradition of coming downstairs first thing in the morning and caressing your baby bump while whispering “hi, my little papaya.” The only difference now is the adorable behavior is immediately followed by him pecking your lips and whispering “hi, my baby” to you.

You’re fully aware that when Monday rolls around you’re going to be a total basket case. The two of you haven’t been apart for more than a day since you got pregnant, and the thought of going a whole week without him when you’re this close to the finish line is borderline unbearable. 

Especially because your third trimester hormones have turned you into a raving lunatic as of late. Crocodile tears form in your eyes over nearly everything and your temper flips on a dime, which you always profusely apologize to Jungkook for whenever he’s on the receiving end. Two weeks ago, you found a dead spider on the ground and started weeping hysterically, so it’s safe to say the time away from Jungkook is going to leave you a complete mess. 

When you do say goodbye, you make a valiant effort at staying strong, but then Jungkook kisses you reverently, both his hands cupping your cheeks as he pours every once of his devotion into your mouth and you shatter into a million pieces. Your tears get trapped between your faces as your lips mold together, but Jungkook diligently wipes them away when he parts from you. 

His forehead presses to yours when he whispers that he loves you and he’ll be back soon before departing with a final grace of his lips to your brow. 

You wail Disney Princess style on his bed as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. It’s downright pathetic, but you don’t care because Usagi is the sole witness to your display. The sheets smell like him and it only serves to make matters worse. It’s only been five minutes and you feel like you miss him down to your very bones already.

Even though he’s far away, you still sleep in his bed rather than your own. You haven’t slept in the guest bedroom originally meant for you in well over two months, and it feels wrong to stay there just because he’s gone. 

Jungkook remains in constant contact with you, which helps ease the heartache of being apart. He messages you at every milestone, from the moment he arrives at the airport, to when his plane lands, and then again when he reaches the hotel. He sends photos and selfies, too, which fills you with exuberant warmth while simultaneously bringing on more tears.

You wallow in self-pity the whole first day, eating an entire tub of ice cream while you watch cheesy romantic comedies. Various friends and family come over the following day to help around the house, which you genuinely appreciate more than words can describe because there is still so much to do. On the third morning without Jungkook, your moms visit and the three of you chat over sparkling grape juice about anything and everything to expect.

They explain all the intimate details of the birthing process they can remember, such as what contractions and labor feel like, and how the brief hospital stay will go prior to bringing the baby home. Your mom goes into grave detail about how awful you’ll feel afterwards and Jungkook’s mom adds more pack to the punch by mentioning how difficult caring for a newborn is while healing from the delivery. 

They assure you everything will be fine, though, and that they’ll be here everyday if you need them. The three of you also agree you truly have nothing to worry about when you have someone as wonderful as Jungkook to care for you.

“Why did you guys want to be pregnant at the same time so badly anyway?” You ask them out of pure curiosity. 

“Well, truth be told, and don’t tell Kookie this, but we were actually hoping you would both be girls so we could have this adorable, little, four way mother-daughter relationship,” Jungkook’s mom tells you. 

You chuckle at her admission and your mind begins to wonder just how different your life would be if that had been the case.

“Honestly, though, this outcome is so much better!” Your mom exclaims. “Now we get to be grandparents together.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t part of the plan,” you state.

“Not at first, no,” Jungkook’s mom says. “But I think we knew as you guys got older, especially after college, that it was only a matter of time.”

“You know, you guys aren’t the only people to say that and I genuinely don’t get it,” you say. “I’m head over heels for him now, no doubt about it, but before, I truly didn’t see him that way. I mean, we grew up together, we were closer than most brothers and sisters are for the majority of our lives.”

“I don’t think it’s about how you felt at the time,” your mom explains. “I think it’s the way you interact, how much you care about one another. There’s one else who could ever give you the love you deserve more than each other.”

As you process her comment, the cogwheels in your mind synthesize and you finally understand what everyone’s been telling you all this time. What Nayeon said about your feelings for him being more than those of a relationship and Chaewon telling you not to overthink things. No one’s presented the notion to you this way before, and something about your mother’s words causes everything to click into place. 

You’re together now because it’s as easy as breathing, and whether you initially had romantic feelings for each other or not, no one can compare.

On day four you’re alone again and you go genuinely stir crazy. Poor Bam has to take the brunt of your brief mental insanity as you cry into his fur and lay across him in a desperate attempt to gain some sort of warmth and comfort. 

Although, you don’t need his services for long, because Jungkook calls like he has every night, but this time he has good news.

“Guess who’s coming home early tomorrow?”

“Really?” You shout into the receiver, your hands still covered in chip dust from eating your feelings. 

“Yup, first flight out of here tomorrow morning,” he tells you.

“Ah! Koo, I’m so excited!”

“Me, too, baby,” he says. “I miss you like crazy, been thinking about you 24/7.”

“Me, too,” you respond. “I think our little one misses you, too. They’ve been restless ever since you left.”

“Have you been playing the mixtape for them?”

“Yes, but it isn’t the same, and I honestly think they’ve gotten picky about it. Live vocals are just so much better, you know?”

Jungkook chuckles and even through the phone you can tell he’s smiling. 

“I’ll make sure to serenade them immediately upon my return,” he states.

“Nuh uh!” You pout even though he can’t see you. “I take priority here, mister.”

“Oh, you’re right. I’m sorry, Bams,” he laughs. “You’ll always be my number one.”

The two of you continue to talk about your respective days for a while. Jungkook explains all the cool gaming stuff he’s gotten to see while at the headquarters in Japan and you parry with your accomplishment of watching all five Twilight movies in a single day. You reluctantly hang up after a couple hours with a quick “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Tomorrow ends up being a complete disaster. 

There’s extreme thunderstorms throughout the entire region, so as soon as you wake up, you see a text from Jungkook informing you his flight’s been delayed by about two hours. It’s no biggie at first, knowing these things happen and it shouldn’t keep him from you for that much longer. But one delay turns to two, which becomes three, and after eight delays, his flight is finally moved to an entirely different airline and won’t be arriving until the following day at approximately three in the morning. 

He tells you not to wait up for him and get your sleep, but there’s no way in hell you’re waiting even another second to see him. 

Even once he lands, it’s still down pouring and the taxi takes another thirty minutes to reach him. He gives you periodic updates, including some heartbreaking selfies of him pouting by the luggage carousel, but despite being able see his handsome face through the phone, it’s all so frustrating you could rip your hair right out of your head. 

By the time his location icon starts moving towards the house, you’ve been pacing the floor like a mad woman for close to an hour. 

Your incessant pacing screeches to a halt when you hear the sound of his footsteps bounding up the stairs and the key turning in the lock. You scurry across the floor as fast as your swollen, pregnant feet will carry you, waiting just behind the door for the reveal of your favorite sight in the world. Although, when the door swings open, you don’t get the chance to admire him before your face is squished against his. 

The very moment Jungkook sees you, he takes your face in his hands and smashes his lips on yours as though he’ll die if he doesn’t. His hungry mouth silences your noise of surprise, coaxing your mouth open and allowing his tongue to invade the space as he kisses you until you can’t see straight. Muscle memory makes it all too easy for him to guide you away from the door and into the wall. You moan when your back meets the hard surface and Jungkook groans in satisfaction at the sound, using his hips to trap you between him and the drywall. 

The warm hands on your skin, taut body flush to yours, and delicious mouth utterly devouring you completely shuts down your senses until all you can see, hear, smell, taste, and feel are him. 

Hands reaching up to grab the collar of his shirt, you tug him impossibly close, even though your bodies are already touching in every place possible. He’s kissing you like he never has before and somehow you still want more. Your hands release the fabric to traverse the planes of his chest and hold his shoulders, eventually moving upwards to caress his neck and jaw. 

He’s completely soaked from the rain, his hair dripping cold water droplets onto your skin and his soiled clothes transferring the liquid onto your own, but there isn’t a single piece of you that minds. He can drench you in acid for all you care, as long as he stays this close and keeps kissing you like this. 

Jungkook pulls a centimeter away, his lips still brushing yours as he breathes erratically as though he ran all the way from the airport. 

“I’m so in love with you,” he pants. “I’m fucking crazy about you, Bambi.” He shakes his head in disbelief of his confidence to finally confess. “I was going to wait to tell you until after the baby’s born, but being away from you was fucking torture and I couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

“Hold it in? How long have you felt this way?” 

Your eyes stare into his with wonder.

“Since we thought we were gonna lose the baby,” he tells you. “I was driving you to the doctor’s office and it felt like the whole world was crashing down around me, but then I realized that’s okay. That if that happened, it wouldn’t matter. The zombie apocalypse could destroy all of humanity, the tectonic plates could shift and send entire continents into the sea, and it wouldn’t matter as long as I have you.” He inhales while gently shaking his head and spraying you with rainwater. “And that’s not new, I’ve always felt that way about you. I’ve always known I want you by my side for the rest of my life, but it made me realize I don’t want anyone else by my side. I only want you, baby.”

“Jungkook, you kept that from me for two months?” You ask incredulously.

“We have a lot going on at the moment, Bams,” he explains.

“Sure, but the stuff we have going on is stressful. Your feelings for me aren’t stressful.”

Jungkook’s eyes burn with intensity as he analyzes the meaning of your words. 

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why aren’t they stressful, Bambi?”

“Because.” You shrug like what you’re about to say is the most obvious truth of the universe. “Well, because I’m in love with y — mmpf.”

Jungkook ceases the remainder of your confession with a divine kiss. Your mouths move in perfect harmony and you swear you see the sun peaking through the rain clouds outside. It doesn’t seem possible, but you can feel every ounce of Jungkook’s love for you on his tongue as it traces your lips and tangles with your own.

“Say it again,” he requests. “Please.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Again, don’t stop.”

“I love you.” Kiss. “I’m so, stupidly, madly.” Kiss. “Crazy in love with you, Jungkook.” Kiss. “I love you so much.” Kiss. “I love you more than anything.” Kiss. “More than I’ll ever be able to describe.” Kiss. “Jungkook.” Kiss. “You’re my everything.” Kiss. “I love you, Koo.”

You aren’t able to chant your emotions anymore because Jungkook doesn’t give you time to breathe, let alone speak. 

His hands are still firmly cradling your face, both your lips refusing to part from one another for a single second. He tastes like honey and vanilla, most likely from the sweets you know he had on the plane. It’s addicting and hypnotizes you completely until all you can think about is him and all you can do is kiss him with all your might. 

Jungkook’s hands travel to the back of your head and tangle in your hair. He uses the leverage to tilt your head so he can kiss across your jaw and neck, biting down softly before sucking over the same spot and making you whimper helplessly for him. 

The attention on your neck only lasts momentarily before he’s releasing you to grab your ass instead, but you stop him by gripping his biceps.

“Baby, you can’t lift me right now, I’m too heavy,” you warn him.

Jungkook looks so offended he takes two full steps away from you, one of his eyebrows rising in disbelief as his jaw ticks. He even goes so far as to scoff while cracking his neck. Then, for the sole purpose of proving you wrong, he effortlessly lifts you into his arms and you have to scramble to latch onto him with your arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

“You wanna try that again, Bams?”

“No,” you grumble under your breath.

The sound of his proud chuckle meets your ears as he seamlessly carries up the stairs and into his bedroom. He tosses you unceremoniously onto the bed, your body bouncing when you land as you giggle in excitement. 

You wait for him to join you, reaching towards him with a pout when he isn’t instantly on top of you, but he only rests one knee on the edge of the mattress.

“Wait, since when have you known?”

“Honestly?” Jungkook nods rapidly. “I have no fucking clue. It’s just like my nickname. I have no idea when or where it happened. I just know all of the sudden you were the first thing on my mind when I woke up, and I got butterflies when we were together, and I wanted to hold your hand, cuddle you, and go on dates. It’s like I just woke up one day and realized I fell in love with you but have no way of tracing it to an exact origin.”

Jungkook smiles and shakes his head knowingly.

“That’s so you.”

“I know, I’m a freaking space cadet!”

“My space cadet,” Jungkook says, finally moving to hover above you. “Also, I know how you got your nickname.”

“Huh?” You frown deeply. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve always known, but I thought it was cute that none of you could remember,” he explains. “It felt like it was my own little secret.”

“Koo!”

Jungkook laughs while scrunching his nose in adoration, his arms shaking where they rest on either side of your head.

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. We were watching the movie in my living room and you just wouldn’t stop crying after Bambi’s mom died, like full blown hysterical tears. So, to cheer you up I said ‘it’s okay, Bambi,’ and you smiled SO big and your eyes lit up like fireworks. I knew then it had to be your nickname.”

Your lip catches between your teeth as you will the sentimental tears not to fall. The notion of Jungkook knowing this whole time is both infuriating and also so heartwarming; that his nickname for you is so precious to him he didn’t dare share the secret of its beginning. 

“That’s so you,” you reply to his story.

He radiantly beams at you, his cheeks and ears turning bright pink from the blush spreading across them. You share in your affectionate laughter as he drops to his elbows so he can kiss you. 

“I love you so much, Bambi,” he whispers. “You’re everything to me, baby.”

The tears you successfully held back before make their debut, wetting both his and your cheeks as they roll away from your eyes. 

Even though you’ve known for a while now this confession was imminent, it’s still just as mesmerizing to hear the words from his lips and be able to say them in return.

The kiss begins with fluid, languid motions, your mouths dancing together for the millionth time, but then Jungkook raises the temperature of the room, greedily licking into your mouth and tugging on your lower lip with his teeth before letting it snap into place. The air fills with moans and whines as you make out, but you stop him with a hand to his chest when you feel him grinding against you.

“Wait, Koo, sex can induce labor,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he draws out the word. “So, we get it on and meet our little one a bit early, isn’t that a win-win situation?”

You chuckle and mentally berate yourself for believing his answer would be anything besides that. Rolling your eyes with an affectionate smile, you briefly peck his lips before smacking his ass.

“Deal, but I’m getting on top.”

Jungkook certainly isn’t going to object to you riding his dick. 

He holds you by the waist and rolls you both over, helping you settle in his lap and caressing your outline as his eyes memorize the vision of you above him. His fingers grip the bottom of your shirt to pull it over your head and then he does the same for his own. 

You don’t let him continue undressing, too mesmerized by his chiseled torso to allow the sight to be hindered. He’s been working out more these last few months as a way to unwind from the stress of preparing for fatherhood, and it’s definitely paid off. You’ve always known how blessed you are to have him, but moments like this remind you just how blessed you truly are.

His neck is your initial target while your hands run along his abs, sinking your nails into the hard lines and creating red marks across his pretty muscles. Jungkook whines at the feeling, his hand reactively grabbing the back of your head as you mark his neck with pretty, wet blotches. 

“Please don’t tease me, baby,” he says. “I need you so fucking bad.”

“You’re the one who left me alone for five days,” you reply in between kisses to his jugular. “I’ll take however long I want.”

Taking your time traversing his shoulder and collarbones, you trace over every muscle and bone with your lips, soaking his skin as your tongue drags across the area. His hand keeps a firm grip on your head, slightly guiding your movements, but still allowing you to savor his upper body despite his request. You bite into his pecs and circle his nipple with your tongue, making his hips bucks beneath you as he groans. 

You giggle like the brat you are at his neediness, already feeling his cock stiffening where your core rests against his crotch.

It honestly takes an exuberant amount of effort to stop painting his torso in kisses, reluctantly pulling away after licking across the entire expanse of his stomach down to his hips and placing a single smooch on all eight of his abdominal muscles. 

Jungkook forces your lips to meet his when you’re done, kissing you like he’s starving for you as he removes both your bottoms in quick succession.

He can feel just how wet you are as soon as your bare cunt meets his length, your essence already leaking all over him without him having to do any work. It brings a smile to his face as you kiss, the feeling of pride turning his chest red with blush because of his effect on you. 

“Missed you so fucking much, babygirl.”

The words have barely left Jungkook’s lips when he grabs your hips to position you over his cock. His fingers wrap around his shaft so you have a perfect target to sink onto, and the familiar feeling of him stretching you open as you sit on his thighs makes your head lull while you breathlessly moan.

“Oh fuck, baby,” you mewl. “I missed you so bad.”

Jungkook is pulling your face to his so he can kiss you before you even start bouncing on him, his other hand grabbing your ass and squeezing your flesh possessively. The kiss is quick, because soon after he’s turning your head and licking across the hot skin of your neck. His warm breath tickles your ear as he goes to speak. 

“This cock is all yours, Bams. So, be good and ride it for me, yeah?” 

You’d do anything he asks, and his words light up the competitive streak in you to give him the best fuck of his life. 

The temptress within you gets the better of you, and you decide to fully unsheath him from the walls of your pussy while grabbing his cock with your hand to keep him in place. He groans indignantly when your warmth leaves him, and you wait a few torturous moments before slowly letting him enter you again one inch at a time. 

Jungkook spanks you in retaliation, but you just chuckle and scratch at his pecs with your nails.  

Continuing the slow glide, you watch as Jungkook’s cock leaves your cunt covered in your juices until it disappears from view when your walls suck him in again. The erotic visual makes your body burn with wanton need. His thick cock repeatedly spearing you is truly a sight to behold and it feels even better than it looks. 

“Fuck, Bambi, don’t fucking do this to me.”

“Do what?” 

The faux innocent gaze your eyes possess makes Jungkook’s jaw clench. 

“I will demolish this fucking pussy. Don’t mess with me, baby,” he threatens. 

“I’d like to see you tr –” 

Jungkook cuts your air supply off completely with a single deadly thrust upwards, your sentence ending with a screech instead of the syllable it was supposed to. 

You aren’t able to replenish your oxygen because Jungkook’s hand is suddenly around your throat, pressing down on the sides to choke you without actually hurting you. His other hand bruisingly holds your hip so he can keep you exactly where he wants you. Your inner thighs meet his pelvis when he plants his feet against the mattress, giving him all the leverage he needs to fuck you dumb. 

“There we go, much better,” he grunts as he abuses your hole. 

“Koo, oh my God.” 

You’re grasping for purchase on his chest to keep yourself upright, eventually gripping his shoulders to prevent falling right over. The combination of his hand around your throat and his cock hitting just the right spot inside you has your mind going numb and your mouth dropping open. 

Jungkook’s completely focused on his singular goal of fucking you right, his brow creasing as his eyes sharpen with determination. He looks no less than ethereal below you, the sweat on his skin making him shimmer like the Greek god you’re positive he descends from. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking handsome, Jungkook. It’s unreal.”

He blushes at your compliment even as his hips work endlessly to force his dick deep into your pussy. 

“That means a lot coming from someone as beautiful as you,” he says with honey coating his tone.

Unlike him, you’re unable to blush or even react, the speed and force of his strokes is plummeting your body into an ocean of euphoria and all you can do is drown. The sex is borderline demonic, and yet it feels like heaven coursing through your veins. 

It’s a genuine mystery of the universe how someone as kind and gentle as Jungkook can be such a goddamn animal in bed. 

If it wasn’t for your pregnant belly, you’re certain Jungkook’s cock would be making an appearance in your abdomen. His lower body is working overtime to send his thick length as far as possible into you and the sensation turns your mind to goo. You would love nothing more than to focus on the feeling of his muscles beneath your fingers, or the way his thighs smash into yours with every thrust, but you’re in a subspace of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Bams, you look so sexy,” he tells you, his voice dripping with desire. “Pussy filled with me, belly swollen with my child, your perfect tits full of milk. You’re fucking gorgeous, babygirl.”

As if to prove his point, he sits up to tug one of your nipples between his teeth. You gasp at the abrasion against your already sensitive skin, but the sound melts into a moan when he takes it into his mouth and sucks on the pebbled skin.

He plays with your nipple until it’s sore, flicking it with his tongue and then slowly circling it until you’re whining and gripping his hair like a lifeline. Wet kisses are placed all over your breast, slathering you in drool and red blotches where he chose to suck on your flesh. You think the debilitating treatment is over until he switches sides, making you cry with pleasure. 

There’s a pop when he releases your nub from his mouth to kiss along your sternum instead.

“You feel fucking amazing, baby. So big, make me feel so full,” you moan.

Jungkook hums proudly as his tongue leaves his mouth to the lick your collarbone.  

“I don’t know how I’ll survive six weeks without fucking this perfect, little cunt.”

His hand tightens around your throat again and you whimper, rolling your hips downward along with his movements to create friction on your clit.

“At least you’ll be able to jack off,” you retort.

“Mm, that can’t even hold a candle to you, baby,” he kisses across your shoulder, inch by inch until he reaches your neck. “I would know, it’s all I fucking did the last five days.” 

Jungkook’s hand leaves your throat with a final squeeze to join his other one at your hips, bringing you down against him with more ferocity as the sound of skin slapping together fills the room. 

“I’ve got you addicted, don’t I?”

“Fuck, you have no idea, Bambi.”

You continue fucking yourself on him to the best of your ability even with his brutal pace, feeling infinitely needier as your orgasm steadily approaches. 

Jungkook is reeking havoc on your neck, coating you in his saliva as he licks across your sweat soaked skin and kisses your most sensitive spots. He nibbles on your earlobe and it makes you keen and whimper unabashedly. 

Honestly, you don’t know how you’ll survive the six weeks either. The two of you have done nothing but fuck since a few weeks after you moved in, and the forced celibacy may very well send you spiraling into insanity. You’re addicted to him, too, and you already know you’ll be begging for his dick for the remainder of your days.

Craving more of you, Jungkook holds you firm against his chest and slams back into the mattress, readjusting his feet and the angle of his hips so he can terrorize your g-spot with the tip of his cock. 

“Oh, holy shit.”

You bite down on his shoulder as tears prick your eyes.

He growls amorously in his throat, his hips taking on a mind of their own as they work effortlessly to send you both crashing into an orgasm. 

Part of you feels bad for requesting to be on top only to allow him to take control, but the guilt washes away like sand when you feel your climax pressing against your insides like a tsunami just offshore. 

“Come on my cock, baby, wanna feel how tight you squeeze me,” Jungkook orders. 

You can’t answer him, the only noises escaping your body being nonsensical moans and cries of his name. But your body certainly responds, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice before your legs lock and twitch when your release comes.

The pulsing of your cunt triggers Jungkook’s release, and your cries of pleasure harmonize as you come together. 

“Shit, Koo,” you curse as he continues sending his cock into you, creating an ache of oversensitivity between your legs. “Baby.” 

You stall his movements with a hand to his chest as your pussy convulses around him with the aftershocks of your orgasm. There’s a soreness in your thighs when you lift yourself from his lap and fall beside him on the bed. 

Jungkook’s softening cock is covered in white from both of your juices, and if you weren’t entirely spent and borderline delirious, you’d lick it clean for him. 

He caresses your face as your eyes close, moving your hair out the way so he can kiss your cheek, nose, temple, and forehead. You hum happily, pursing your lips as a wordless demand for him to kiss them as well.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook,” you whisper into the air.

The sound of his bright laugh makes you smile.

“I love you more,” he responds before finally giving you a tender kiss.

“Oh, please don’t make me fight you right now. I’m in no shape to do so,” you state.

Jungkook giggles and pecks your lips a couple more times in rapid succession.

Once your heavy breathing slows and your bodies cool, you roll into Jungkook’s side and he naturally pulls you into his embrace. 

It’s nearing sunrise and if you’re this exhausted, you can’t even begin to comprehend how tired Jungkook must be.

He wishes you goodnight where his lips rest on your forehead and you return the gesture by smooching his chest a couple times. The two of you sleep peacefully for the first time in days, the feeling of home completely encompassing you as you’re whisked away to dreamland. 

NINE

Despite the many warnings about the possibility of sex inducing labor, you’re three days from your due date and Jungkook fucking you sensless multiple times a day has yet to make your baby arrive any sooner. 

The two of you are in the honeymoon phase straight out of finally confessing your love for each other, and you having a massive baby bump and a few extra pounds on you doesn’t stop you in the slightest from celebrating your new relationship status. Jungkook can’t keep his hands to himself even when you’re in the middle of important tasks readying the house for your little pumpkin 

Honestly, you think it’s partially to distract himself from the imminent arrival of your child. He never says it aloud because he doesn’t want to worry you, but you know him better than anyone and can tell he’s anxious. 

It’s one thing to spend nine months positively itching to hold your baby in your arms, but it’s another to actually parent said child. 

Even with his nerves, he’s been the picture perfect partner throughout these final weeks and you’re nothing short of absolutely certain he’ll be the most amazing father in the world. Even if he fails at things or messes up every now and then, the immense love he already holds for your baby is more than you could ever ask for from a partner.

Right now he’s screwing the final dresser into the wall of his bedroom so it’s baby-proof. He’s never been much of a handyman, but you suppose the fatherhood gene has fully fermented in his blood and now he can handle a drill like a pro. You’ll have to ask him about changing tires next, and his sneezes will probably get louder as soon as the baby is born.

You’re moseying around the kitchen as you clean up following dinner. Jungkook keeps telling you to stay still and relax, but you’re way too antsy to do that.  

Every minute feels like an hour while you wait for your little one to arrive. Not only because you’re so eager to meet them, but because you’re terrified of labor and delivery and want it over with as soon as possible. It’s a fear of the unknown, and you know you’ll feel better once you understand how bad the contractions will be. 

Being pregnant comes with many lovely perks, one of which includes peeing every time you cough or even flinch the wrong way. 

That’s why, when you feel a warm sensation down below, you don’t question it. Like always these past couple months, you merely roll your eyes and make a mental note to change your underwear when you’re done cleaning. 

It’s only once you step to your left and have to catch yourself on the counter to stop from slipping that you realize you’re standing in a pool of liquid. You certainly didn’t pee your pants, because although it’s been a couple decades since you last did, you remember the feeling quite well. When the realization of what actually occurred hits you, you’re screaming bloody murder for Jungkook upstairs.

“My water! Jungkook! My water just broke!” 

The sound of his two feet followed by four large paws running down the stairs is all you hear until he appears at the bottom of the stairwell looking like he’s seen a ghost.

His cheeks are bright red, his eyes bigger than you’ve ever seen them, and he’s huffing out air as though he just ran a marathon. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Yes, Koo, I’m standing in amniotic fluid as we speak!”

Jungkook shakes his head aggressively to get himself into action mode. 

“Alright, you get your shoes on, I’m gonna get the hospital bag. Wait, do you need to change first?”

“That would be nice, yeah,” you admit. 

He’s gone in a flash to head back upstairs and obtain your pre-packed bag with all the essentials and something for you to change into. 

When he returns only a split second later, Usagi is following close behind now that she’s aware something exciting is going on. He hands you a comfortable dress and panties to change into and you strip right there in the kitchen. His hand on your hip stalls you before you’re able to slip the clothes on, and you nearly start screaming at him that now is not the time, but then he grabs a towel and wipes away the fluid from your legs. 

You smile graciously and thank him for thinking ahead before sliding the dress over your head and scurrying to the door. 

Now that your water broke you can feel a mild cramping from the contractions. It’s a dull pitch in your back as well as what you can only compare to a period cramp. You must not be dilated very much yet because the pain is still fairly tolerable. 

Jungkook bends over to help you with your shoes before resting his hand on your lower back to guide you downstairs to the garage. Both your hands are caressing your swollen stomach, slightly bracing yourself because the cramping is coming in waves every few minutes. 

When you reach the car Jungkook opens the passenger door for you, but you turn on your heel and place your hands on his chest before sitting down. He looks at you inquisitively, his eyes conveying his hurriedness and confusion as to why you’re not rushing, too. 

“I just, we have time, and I want to take a minute before we go,” you tell him.

“For what, Bambi?”

You admire the pretty features you’ve known all your life with a smile and reach up to circle his neck with your arms. He laughs cheerfully and reflects your embrace by hugging your waist.

“This is the last time we’re gonna be here, just the two of us.” You nuzzle your face in his neck and let his scent calm you. “The last time it will just be you and me.”

“It’s always gonna be you and me, Bams,” he replies. “Always.”

He kisses your cheek, leaving his lips there for a lingering moment before you part. Once you do, he rests his hand on your jaw and kisses you gently. His lips are warm and familiar, and you kiss one another with a promise of wonderful new things on the horizon. 

Jungkook waits to ensure you’re comfortable in the passenger seat before running to the other side and taking off towards the nearby hospital. On the way, you call your doctor to let them and she assures you she’ll meet you there once the labor and delivery nurses triage you. 

When you arrive, you take a poignant deep breath, knowing that when you exit this place you’ll be a mom, and this is the last time in the outside world where you’ll just be you. It’s exhilarating, nerve wracking, and overwhelming all at once, but you’ve been preparing for this next chapter for nine months now, and you’re more than ready.

You and Jungkook have your hands tightly wound together as you enter the massive hospital, but he relinquishes his grip to grab you a wheelchair once you’re inside. He watches you carefully as you sit down, holding his hands out on either side of you as though you’re made of glass. When you nod at him assuredly that you’re all good, he rushes to the counter to inform the receptionist while you text all your important group chats about what’s going on. 

Your parents and friends are planning on coming to see you and the baby after delivery, and you can’t wait to formally introduce them to your little one. 

Jungkook returns along with a labor and delivery nurse who introduces herself before wheeling you down the hallway. When you reach two large double doors, she stops and turns to you and Jungkook, whose hand is comfortingly rubbing your shoulder.

“Alright, this is where we’ll be parting for a bit. Mom, you’re coming with me, and Dad, you have to get scrubbed up so you can join us,” she explains.

This step in the process is something your doctor explained previously, but it doesn’t make saying goodbye any easier, no matter how momentary the separation will be.

Looking towards Jungkook, you notice he’s just as anxious to be away from you, but he hides it well and bends to your height so he can kiss you briefly. 

“I’ll see you soon, okay, Bambi?”

There are tears in your eyes even though you’re nodding your head.

“Yeah, soon,” you whimper.

“It’s okay, baby, it won’t be for long,” he tells you as he caresses your cheek. You lean your head into his hand and close your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you parrot and kiss him one final time. 

He waves continuously as you’re pushed through the double doors by your nurse, and even though you know he’s upset, too, he’s sporting the cheesiest grin on his face to make you laugh.

Jungkook heaves out a sigh directly from his gut once you’re gone, his head falling back as he struggles to steady his jackrabbiting heart. Being apart right now feels like unadulterated torture, but he knows it’s only for a short while before you’ll be together again.

A different nurse comes to lead him to a sterile room just around the corner. The older woman explains the basics of scrubs and staying clean as well as what to do if he gets contaminated. He listens as dutifully as possible with all the other millions of thoughts running through his head and eventually the nurse helps him dress in the lovely, crinkly blue outfit, which includes shoe covers and a hair net. 

He looks utterly ridiculous, but truthfully, finally dawning his father-to-be attire makes him giddy.

When he exits, the nurse leads him down a seemingly infinite hallway to a delivery room where your doctor is waiting just outside the door. She smiles joyously when he appears in her vision and enthusiastically waves him down. 

“Hi, Doc,” he excitedly greets her.

“Hi, how are you feeling?” She asks him.

“I’m… nervous as hell,” he says truthfully. “I can’t stand seeing her in pain, so I don’t think I’m going to handle this very well.”

“A lot of dads feel that way about their partner,” she explains. “Just remember, all you can do is be there for her and she’ll get through it. She’s a tough cookie.”

“She is,” he nods with a smile.

“So, I wanted to talk to you before we go in. Y/N’s lost quite a lot of blood, and we’ve had to set her up with a continuous blood transfusion to ensure she’ll have enough for delivery. Now, let me just say, this is totally normal. We deal with this all the time and we’ve got everything under control.”

Jungkook’s heart drops into his stomach with a weighted plop, his entire body following suit as his shoulders sink and he nearly loses his balance.

“What — what — what do you mean, why is she losing blood?”

“It’s just something that happens sometimes, the baby is moving through her body and it can cause internal bleeding which drops her blood count,” she explains calmly.

“But… but she’s gonna be okay, right? I mean, Doc, that’s my entire world in there. I’m… I’m not even a person without her, I —”

“Jungkook, listen to me,” she interrupts his manic ramblings. “I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive. She’s going to be just fine. Her and the baby. You’re going to leave here with both of them tomorrow, alright?”

Jungkook attempts to calm his thoughts and take her words of expertise to heart, but he needs to see you for himself, hold you and feel your skin beneath his fingers so he knows without a shadow of a doubt that you’re alright.

“Okay. And you’ll… she takes priority, right? If something goes wrong —”

“Of course, she does.” She smiles reassuringly at him. “I won’t let anything happen to your Bambi, Jungkook.”

He nods his head as a sigh of relief leaves his lungs.

“Thank you, Doctor,” he says wholeheartedly.

“Of course. Let’s get you in there to see her, yeah? Fair warning, she’s a little loopy because of the blood loss, but it shouldn’t last too much longer now that she’s hooked up to a blood bag.”

She opens the door and gestures for Jungkook to enter before following closely behind.

When you see the light pouring in from the door opening, your eyes glisten with excitement as Jungkook appears in your field of vision. Even though you feel half alive, the sight of the man you love brings a huge toothy grin to your face. 

“Koo,” you call for him quietly, your hand weakly rising in his direction. He’s at your side instantly, taking your shaking hand and kissing the back of it before sitting in the chair beside your hospital bed. “You look so cute in your scrubs.”

“Yeah? Well, you look absolutely beautiful, baby,” he tells you as he delicately pushes your sweaty hair from your face. 

The contractions are coming in quick succession now and are significantly more powerful, but because of the blood loss you’ve only been given a mild pain reliever. It’s truthfully been horrible so far, especially when you nearly passed out from all the blood escaping your body. You don’t dare tell Jungkook about it, knowing precisely how he’ll react, but you already feel better with him next to you.

Pursing your lips in his general direction, you hear Jungkook chuckle as he leans in to kiss you deeply. Despite your current state, you still do your best to reciprocate the passion he pours into you, moving your lips in tandem while his free hand rises to cradle your jaw. Your foreheads meet once your lips reluctantly divide, but Jungkook uses his grip to lower your head so he can press his lips there a couple times instead.

“So, I take it you two aren’t just best friends anymore?” Your doctor is sitting between your legs with an eyebrow raised. You and Jungkook share a knowing chuckle before facing her and shaking your heads in unison. She smiles broadly in response. “Good, I’m glad.”

Just then, another contraction crashes over you and you groan while bending over in pain. Jungkook’s eyes go wide and misty in an instant, his hand clutching yours in support, which you return tenfold by brutally squishing his fingers together from the tightness of your grip. 

You feel his other hand combing through your hair as you attempt to push through the pain by counting your breaths. The pain coursing through your lower half is already borderline unbearable, and you pray they can give you the epidural soon.

“Breathe, baby,” Jungkook instructs, mimicking the Lamaze technique you learned all those months ago. 

The class was enjoyable enough, but the breathing exercises truly don’t do jack shit for the pain. Jungkook’s voice brings you more comfort than the repetitive intakes of air you were taught. As the pain begins to cease, you crash back into the bed with shaky breaths while Jungkook massages the shoulder closest to him. 

“Are you alright, Bams?” He asks, his eyes watching the monitor beside you so he can see your heart rate returning to baseline.

“Yeah, I am now,” you pant.

“Is there anything I can do?”

You caress his cheek with your free hand while putting on your bravest smile for him.

“No, my love, you just have to sit there and look pretty,” you instruct him. 

Jungkook blushes as he laughs.

You request he answer some of the hundreds of text messages currently blowing up your phone and causing it to nearly vibrate off the table. He does so without hesitation, sending mass text messages to your friends and family stating where to go when they arrive and updating them on how you're doing. There’s also a fair amount of selfies taken in between contractions, some for your loved ones and a couple of you two kissing for his own records. He wants to remember this forever, even if you both look questionable at best in your hospital attire. 

Everyone in your life knows about the relationship status upgrade, but he still wants to keep some moments sacred for just the two of you. 

When you told your moms, you genuinely thought they were going to pass out from sheer excitement. The two women cried hysterical happy tears and hugged one another for a minimum of five minutes before finally embracing the two of you in congratulations. 

The contractions continue for a couple hours, each wave of them getting closer and closer together until they’re almost neck and neck. After a particularly horrific one lasting about ten minutes, your doctor comes to speak to you.

“So, here’s the situation,” she starts. “You’re dilated to ten right now; the baby is ready to come out. The only problem is you still haven’t received enough blood for us to give you the epidural.” She sighs regretfully. “That gives us two options. You either do the birth naturally now or we give you a medicine that slows your labor down and we wait until we can give you the epidural. The biggest downside to that is the medicine can take upwards of ten hours to leave your system, so you’ll be feeling the contractions for that long.”

You were never planning on delivering naturally, and having to choose between the better of two evils is making your brain short circuit. All you want is to meet your baby, to hold, kiss, and love them, but there’s a barrier of brutality standing in your way. 

“Do you think I can do it naturally?” You ask her.

“Absolutely. I’ve seen thousands of women do it, but that doesn’t mean you have to. Everyone is different.”

Anxiously gnawing on your lip, you turn towards Jungkook, whose expression mirrors the fright on your own. His eyes are glossy with unsung emotion and it breaks your heart. You know how difficult it is for him to feel so powerless to help you, always proudly holding the title of your knight in shining armor all your life. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s not up to me, Bams,” he answers.

“I know, but I want your opinion.”

His jaw clenches and he shakes his head before speaking.

“I fucking hate seeing you in pain, Bambi. I can hardly stand it, you know that,” he responds. “But for either option it sounds like that’ll be the case. You either experience excruciating pain now or suffer for ten hours with severe pain.”

You mull over his words for a while before releasing the air in your lungs as your decision finalizes in your mind. 

“I wanna meet our baby, Koo,” you tell him. “I don’t want to wait.”

Jungkook smiles assuredly at you and brings your fingers to his lips to kiss.

“I know you can do this, Bambi. There’s nothing in this world I believe in more.”

“So, we’re gonna try naturally?” Your doctor asks to clarify and you answer her with a nervous nod of your head. “Great, we’ll start pushing in about ten minutes, alright? Remember that you’re going to push along with each contraction, so don’t push until I tell you.”

She walks across the room to discuss the plan with the other nurses assisting her with your delivery. Jungkook grabs your attention by brushing his knuckles down the side of your face and you paint an expression of false bravery on your face for him.

“Are you okay? You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, Koo, I’m okay,” you assure him. “Just don’t be upset if I sink my nails into your skin and make you bleed.”

“You can do whatever you need to get through it,” he responds.

He brushes your hair away again, even more of your strands matted down after the hours of labor you’ve gone through already.

“This is it, huh? No turning back,” you say.

“Nope,” Jungkook giggles. “I can’t wait, Bams.”

“Me, either,” you reply happily.

Jungkook kisses you again, cherishing the feeling of your lips as he mentally maps the shape of your mouth and memorizes this moment. You allow the lip lock to be your final moment of rest before diving headfirst into the ordeal you fear the most. The next time your lips meet, it will be once you’ve become a family. 

“I know I’ve said it before, but you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you so damn much,” Jungkook states.

“I thought you said that blowjob I gave you was the best thing to ever happen to you?”

Jungkook laughs indiscriminately, his eyes squeezing shut as his bunny teeth peak out.

“I was wrong,” he says. “It’s you, Bambi. It’s always been you.”

You smile at him in total adoration while tracing his features with your eyes, wanting to remember years from now exactly how he looked before he became a dad. 

“I love you, Jungkook, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to properly explain just how much.”

Instead of verbally replying, there are kisses spread all over your face as you giggle until your doctor returns and asks if you’re ready. When you tell her you are, she reassures you of your strength before sitting on the stool between your legs while the other nurses stand in various positions around her.

Jungkook squeezes your hand with an unknown melody and you share an affirmative glance from your periphery. You’ve been through everything under the sun together, and this is just another hurdle you know you’ll get through side by side. There’s no doubt in your mind you can do this because he’s here beside you and no one provides you with more strength and support than him.

Three consecutive, merciless contractions crash over you and you nearly turn Jungkook’s hand purple with your grasp. Your doctor informs you in a calm voice that when the third wave of pain begins to ebb you’ll start pushing. One contraction bleeds into the next, and you hear a backwards count of three before she orders you to push hard.

The pain is abundantly worse than you ever imagined. It feels like the entire lower half of your body is on fire while your insides tear themselves to shreds. You scream as hot, salty tears blur your vision and your nails bite into Jungkook’s hand. He holds your elbow with his free hand in an attempt to give you more support to steady yourself with.

The word “push” is repeated over and over as the contraction moves through you. You do as you're told for a few minutes, although it feels like hours, and then she states you’re going to pause for a moment. 

“Okay, you can stop, dear,” she instructs. 

As soon as your efforts cease, you gasp in hefty relief and fall backwards into the bed, all the while panting and trying to calm the inner workings of your body after pushing your nervous system to the brink.

“Bambi? Are you doing alright?” Jungkook asks as he brushes his fingers through your hair.  

“Fuck you, Jungkook. You’re never coming in me again,” you huff through shaky breaths. 

He chuckles and kisses your crown a couple times, making you smile despite the exhaustion and ache. 

When your doctor asks if you’re ready to continue you reply with a weak nod of your head and return to your prior position. The same sequence of events repeats for a while, but you honestly have no idea for how long because one excruciating moment just blurs into the next. There’s a particularly awful set of pushes and afterwards your doctor happily informs you the baby’s crowning and it shouldn’t take much longer. 

You brace yourself for what you know will be the worst pain yet, readjusting your hold on Jungkook’s hand as he whispers words of encouragement in your ear and kisses your sweaty cheek. 

Truthfully, all you want is to pause and climb into his lap so he can soothe the pain away as he always does, but your baby needs you, and there’s nothing you want more in the world than to hold them in your arms.

A moment later your doctor tells you to push as hard as you’re able and the loudest scream yet rips from your throat. You genuinely believe for a moment that you're being ripped in half and won’t make it out alive. The thought scares you half to death, but you force it away so you can focus on giving your child life.

“Ah! Fuck!” You wail as tears freefall from your eyes.

“One more, honey, you’re almost there,” your doctor assures you.

“You can do it, Bams,” Jungkook shouts as his arm shakes from how firmly you’re clutching his hand. 

“Ahh no, no I can’t, I can’t do it,” you cry helplessly, the pain nearly blacking out your vision. 

“Yes, you can, baby. I know that you can,” Jungkook replies. 

You weep hysterically while trying to breathe through the pain, but it feels impossible to push air from your lungs when all you feel is the overwhelming sensation of your insides ripping apart.

“Push, honey!”

Your doctor's words shove reality before you, that you only have one choice and that’s to bring your baby into the world. So, with all the strength you have left after hours of physical pain and torment, you push with all your might.

There’s an ear piercing scream which accompanies your efforts, but then your voice is drowned out by the sound of a shrill cry. 

You gasp harshly and slam into the bed when the immense pressure disperses from your bottom half. You’re left panting haphazardly as your body slows its momentum and your mind catches up to the world around you. 

The feeling of Jungkook’s fingers lacing through yours grounds you to the moment, but it’s your doctor’s voice which pulls your consciousness to the surface.

“Congratulations, you two, you have a beautiful little girl.”

“A girl?” You and Jungkook shout in unison. 

“We’re gonna clean her up and get her right back to you, alright?”

The world is spinning too fast. Everything seems to be happening at once, but you do your best to calm your mind so you can focus on your daughter and the man you love sitting beside you.

“Bambi, you did it,” Jungkook cheers as he leans over and kisses your forehead. “We have a daughter.”

You regain control of your eyes and turn towards the sound of his voice. He honestly looks just as bad as you. There are tear stains all across his face from crying over you being in pain, and fresh droplets are forming in the corners of his eyes at the news about your little girl.  

Reaching across to bring his face closer, you kiss him as ardently as you can with your strength almost entirely depleted. You’re both smiling too hard to even kiss properly, your teeth clashing as your tears of joy blend together until you don’t know whose are whose. 

You pull away when your doctor returns with your daughter wrapped in a blanket with a little pink hat on her head. She’s so tiny that you gasp in awe, your hands covering your mouth as you wait in eager anticipation for her to be placed in your arms. 

Your doctor smiles brightly at you as she hands you the little bundle of joy in her arms. 

There are truly no words to describe the feeling of holding her for the first time. It’s unbelievably surreal to think she’s the same little pumpkin growing in your womb all this time. She’s breathtakingly beautiful, with tufts of black hair just like her father’s sticking out from the edges of her hat. She has his button nose, too, but her lips and face shape seem to favor you. Her eyes are delicately shut while she sleeps peacefully in her carefully made cocoon.

“Hi, baby,” you whisper. “It feels weird holding you in my arms rather than my belly, huh?” She obviously doesn’t respond to your adoration, but you’ll speak nonsense to her all day anyway. “Oh, I love you so much already.”

Jungkook places a hand on your shoulder as he leans over to see his daughter up close. The two of you have identical watery grins as your happy tears continue to fall. 

“She’s so beautiful,” he whispers. 

“Yes, she is.” You gently caress her head and tap her little nose. “We made her, Koo.”

“For funsies.”

Laughing to the point your chest shakes, you nudge him in retaliation for possibly disturbing your little girl's slumber. He joins in your laughter and kisses the exposed skin of your shoulder where your hospital gown fell down. Your heart feels as though it’s swelling to ten times its normal size as you lean down to press the gentlest of kisses to her forehead. 

“You wanna hold her?” You ask him.

His eyes are wide with wonder as he nods his head slowly and reaches for her with adorable grabby hands. You pass her over as deftly as possible and admire the scene before you as Jungkook meets his daughter for the first time.

The sound he makes is a mixture between a gasp and a cry when he first comes face to face with her before he starts giggling endlessly, his nose scrunching up in pure bliss as more tears fall from his eyes. 

“Hi, my little one,” he coos. “I’ve been waiting so long to meet you.” You sniffle to hold back your own sentimental tears as you watch the two people you love most in the world interact. “Daddy loves you so much, little girl.” He chuckles to himself. “But we’re gonna have to talk, because you hurt Mommy and that just cannot go unpunished.”

You allow a hearty laugh to leave you now that you aren’t holding your daughter. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Bams. I’ll never be able to thank you enough, even if I spend every second of the rest of my life doing so. You made me a dad to the most beautiful little girl in the world.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Koo, because you made me a mom. You’ve loved and cared for me my entire life, and if the only way I can repay you is with her, then all this was worth it.” 

You kiss him softly, being careful not to jostle your daughter resting in his arms.

After a while of simply admiring your baby as she sleeps, your doctor informs you it’s almost time to go through afterbirth, although it should be easier since your water broke earlier. Once that’s done, they clamp the umbilical cord and allow Jungkook to cut it, which he does while smiling from ear to ear. 

It’s about an hour later when they tell Jungkook he can grab two loved ones at a time to come see you. You mutually agreed ahead of time that your mothers will be first, so he kisses you on the lips and your daughter on her forehead before heading to the waiting room to spread the magnificent news. 

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief as he travels down the long hallway away from the delivery room, still so utterly shocked that he’s a dad and he has such a beautiful daughter. 

He also can’t believe how amazing you did. He’s positively in awe of you and what you went through to deliver your baby. It honestly pains him to leave you both even if only for a few fleeting moments. He could spend forever just staring at you and your sweet little girl. 

When the double doors open, a massive crowd of your friends and family are behind them waiting eagerly for his arrival. They all stand at once when they see Jungkook enter, and every single person shares the same anticipatory expression. 

“It’s a girl!” He announces with his arms held high above his head. 

The entire room erupts with cheers and the horde of loved ones descends on him in an excited frenzy. He feels multiple friends messing with his hair affectionately, his mom kissing his cheek, and your friends hugging his waist. It makes his heart jump for joy at the realization of how loved you, him, and your baby are already.

“How’s Y/N?” Chaewon asks once everyone gives him some room to breathe.

“She’s fucking perfect. I mean, she was just so amazing. I can’t even comprehend it,” he explains. “She couldn’t get the epidural because she lost too much blood, but she pushed through and she’s doing great.”

“She gave birth naturally?” Nayeon asks in shock.

Jungkook nods and Nayeon clutches her heart in response. 

“When can we see her and the baby?” Yoongi asks him.

“So, we can take you back two at a time. We’re gonna start with our parents, moms first, and then you guys can play rock paper scissors to figure out the order of friends,” Jungkook states.

The large group of friends immediately start turning to one another to start the tournament while Jungkook gestures with his head for his and your mom to follow him back. 

His mom clings to his arm as they walk and Jungkook throws his other one around your mom’s shoulders, placing a loving kiss on each of their heads. Both women are still crying from the happy news, but he can tell they're practically vibrating with giddiness to see you and the baby.

Jungkook opens the door for them to enter before following closely behind. Before his feet even enter the space he hears the excited gasps from the women as their eyes land on you and their grandchild.

Your mom is at your side like lightning, bending down to kiss your forehead and ask how you’re doing. You assure her you’re doing alright while offering your sleeping daughter to her. She nods like a bobble head and gently lifts the swaddled child from your arms where she was laying. 

Jungkook’s mom gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and then leans over your mom’s shoulder to meet her first grandchild. You watch endearingly as their expressions glow with warmth and affection for her while Jungkook joins you by your bedside again. When your eyes meet, you notice he’s staring at you as though you created the entire universe from scratch. The blush on your face is involuntary, and you kiss him for the umpteenth time today to hide the pink hue.

“I love you so much, baby,” Jungkook whispers in between smooches.

You plant one last peck on him.

“I love you more.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Are we about to have our first fight as parents?”

Eventually, after your fathers meet their granddaughter, your friends begin arriving in pairs to visit you and their niece, ending with Namjoon and Jimin, which is no surprise given their terrible history with lady luck. By the time the initial pass through of all your guests comes to a close, you’re beyond exhausted, so Jungkook takes your daughter while you rest. Your doctor bids you farewell shortly beforehand and tells you the nurses will assist with nursing for the first time once you wake up. 

Upon your return to the land of the living, the three of you are admitted to an actual hospital room rather than the delivery room, which allows for more people to come see you at one time. Although, you and Jungkook decide it’s best to hold off on visitors until after you breastfeed your daughter. 

The nurses are wonderful with helping you accomplish the daunting task, and it’s honestly easier than you expected. Your little girl latches onto you with ease and although it feels funny at first, the longer she drinks from you the more soothing it becomes. Relaxing against the pillows, you shut your eyes and appreciate the newness of motherhood while feeding your daughter. Jungkook interrupts your peaceful haven with a wistful sigh as his head falls into one of his palms. 

“I’m so jealous,” he states with his eyes locked on your chest.

The slap upside the head you give him is purely on instinct.

Your loved ones all visit again over the next twenty four hours prior to your discharge from the hospital. Before departing, the nurses ask you about a name since the process is simpler to complete while you’re still here. You and Jungkook wear matching smirks while eyeing one another. Contrary to popular belief, the two of you really did know which name to choose the moment you saw her.

You, Jungkook, and Naru return home as a family for the first time, along with your parents, later that day. Bam and Usagi are downright ecstatic to see you and Jungkook’s dad has to hold Bam back from jumping on you or Jungkook, who’s holding Naru in her baby carrier. 

It’s a flurry of movement as your moms support your back during your trek upstairs to sleep the pain away while Jungkook places Naru in her crib. Your dads immediately begin cleaning to take some chores off your plate, the two of them working in tandem to wash away the sticky bodily fluid still on the kitchen floor. Once you’re out cold and Jungkook is admiring his daughter with his head resting on the edge of her crib, your parents complete some other miscellaneous tasks around the house and feed the pets before heading home. 

After they leave, Jungkook sits in the nursery rocking chair and watches with stars in his eyes as his little girl sleeps soundly in her stolen cradle. 

It’s not totally certain why you chose Naru as her name. A couple months ago, Jungkook was rattling names off a list along with their meanings, and for some unknown reason it just stuck out. You and Jungkook both loved it amongst some other girl and boy names, and shortly after she was born, you unanimously agreed to go with that one. There’s an added cuteness bonus because Naru is the name of Usagi’s best friend in Sailor Moon, and in your little familiar they’re sisters. 

The name means to become, grow, reach, or attain, and you think the meaning suits her and the two of you so perfectly. 

When you wake after some solid sleep, it’s with a sore groan as you literally roll off the mattress to check on your family. It’s still so surreal referring to yourselves that way, but a completely lovesick smile graces your lips every time you do. 

You stop in your tracks before anyone can see you once you reach the first floor, wanting to leave the beautiful scene you’re witnessing undisturbed for a while longer.

Jungkook is horizontal across the couch with his shirt open as Naru sleeps on his bare chest. He’s been absolutely dying to try skin on skin time with her after reading how beneficial it can be, and although it may be good for Naru, the sight is terrible for you because it nearly sends you into hysterics over how precious it is. Not only that, but Usagi is curled up between his legs and Bam is watching curiously from the chair next to them. If you could pause time to admire this moment for longer than the world allows, you’d do so in a heartbeat.

A few quiet minutes pass as you watch Jungkook’s gaze flit across all the tiny features of his daughter’s face with the sweetest smile on his lips. He looks utterly in love, his eyes nearly forming into hearts as he stares at her. It makes you wonder if this is what everyone means when they mention how he looks at you. 

When you finally make yourself known and pad over to the couch in your slippers, Jungkook’s face somehow lights up even more, his smile growing exponentially as you sit beside his legs.

“Hi, beautiful,” he says softly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright, just sore,” you tell him. 

“Anything I can do?”

“No.” You shake your head with an enchanted smile as you brush some of his hair back and caress his cheekbone. “You’re doing everything already.”

He smiles gratefully and twists his head to kiss your wrist. The three of you remain there for a while, you and Jungkook only speaking every so often as your daughter naps peacefully and he brushes her tiny strands of hair away from her face. 

BACK TO ZERO

The low, dulcet sound of Jungkook singing in his lower register forces your eyes open. Blinking a couple times to bring your mind to reality, you turn your head to see Jungkook beside you in bed, softly singing to Naru as her cries subside and she falls into a deep slumber. 

You reach for them, running your hand along Jungkook’s bicep so he knows you’re awake. He looks at you with a saccharine smile and whispers good morning as to not disturb the child sleeping in his arms. Bending down, you place a gentle kiss on her forehead before sitting up to kiss Jungkook where he’s resting against the headboard. 

“You should’ve woken me up, Koo,” you whisper.

“It’s okay, Bambi. I got it,” he replies with an affirmative smile. 

Jungkook’s been doing more than his fair share of waking up during all hours of the night to care for your daughter, even though you originally agreed to take turns. He claims it’s because you’re still recovering from pushing her out of your body while he sat and watched, and it only makes sense for you to rest while he does the heavy lifting. You appreciate him more than words can express, but guilt still eats away at you everytime you see dark bags under his eyes from the fatigue.

Sometimes he doesn’t have a choice but to wake you, because as much as your daughter is undeniably smitten by him, sometimes a girl just needs her mother. 

If waking you is necessary, Jungkook will do so in the softest way possible, usually by pressing featherlight kisses all over your face and quietly telling you Naru needs you. Even when it’s your expertise required, he’ll follow you into the nursery while you either feed her or give her some much needed mommy and me time. Once her cries subside and she falls asleep, Jungkook will take you by the hand and tuck you into bed with a promise of a few more hours of rest. 

When she isn’t being finicky, she’ll fall asleep in seconds to the feeling of Jungkook rocking her or singing her lullabies. You genuinely believe she recognizes his voice from when he sang to her in your womb because her eyes always light up in wonder whenever he starts a new tune. 

She’s only been in your lives for a month, but somehow you love her more than anything else in the world. It’s strange for something to have a complete occupation of your heart without knowing them very long, but Naru makes it easy. Even though she can be quite the terror when she’s incessantly crying and screaming, and her diapers smell like sewage, she’s the absolute sweetest baby. When she’s being held, she always curls into the person’s chest and lays her little hand on them, or she’ll tightly grip their fingers between her tiny ones. She smiles constantly, no matter if you’re simply admiring her or playing peek-a-boo.

Naru definitely looks more like Jungkook, which is exactly what you were hoping for, although she does share some features with you. 

The first time she blinked her eyes open and you saw a twin pair of the big, boba eyes you fell in love with, you nearly wept. In fact, they’re so large they nearly take up half her face. You’ve already captured at least a thousand pictures of them side by side, with Jungkook often forcing his eyes open wider so they match hers. 

Your phone is positively overflowing with photos from the last thirty days, mostly selfies of you and Jungkook with your beautiful daughter, pictures of just her, or secret candid shots of Jungkook holding or playing with her. His phone is much the same, at least you assume so given that he’s always pretending not to be snapping photos whenever you’re with Naru.

“What time is it?” You ask Jungkook.

“Four in the morning.”

You groan quietly enough to avoid waking the sleeping infant and stand for a bathroom break before returning to your peaceful slumber. Your body is still in shambles from the birthing process, although you’re steadily recovering. Some basic functions are still a struggle and the extreme fatigue is enough to keep you in bed all day. Jungkook’s doing his best to take care of you while also caring for Naru, but both your parents come over often to assist in whatever way they can. 

Your friends are visiting for the first time later today because they’ve been begging nonstop to see Naru again. It’s not that you didn’t want them here, but you and Jungkook felt some alone time as a family was necessary to settle into your new routine. 

Both friend groups are visiting this afternoon since Mina and Taehyung are officially dating and it’s simpler to invite everyone over at once. You’re honestly elated about seeing your friends, desperately in need of some social interaction that isn’t with a tiny human or your boyfriend. 

Referring to Jungkook as your boyfriend is quite the adjustment, especially since the illusive term doesn’t hold nearly enough weight for what he truly is to you. Best friend still feels more fitting even though there’s a platonic connotation, baby daddy lowers him to a status far beneath him, and the word partner doesn’t feel intimate enough for your connection. So, boyfriend it is for now, even though Jungkook continuously makes references to replacing the current ring on your finger with a different one. 

You always reprimand him when he makes those comments, telling him it’s way too soon for both your relationship and being parents, and he assures you he agrees, but you know your hopeless romantic best friend better than anyone, and it’s obvious he’s itching to get down on one knee. 

The thought does leave you embarrassingly giddy, but even if you did get engaged, you wouldn’t wed for a while given that no one wants to plan a wedding and raise an infant simultaneously. Right now, you’re perfectly content with your current ring and the meaning behind it. Ironically, poor Jungkook keeps muttering to himself about how he’s ever going to top it when he does pick out an actual engagement ring. 

Upon returning to bed, Jungkook purses his lips towards you and you placate him with a tender smooch before plopping into bed. Unfortunately, you aren’t comfortable for long because your breasts start to hurt from needing to either feed your daughter or pump milk for later. Since she’s currently sleeping like the little angel she is, you grab your breast pump and mirror Jungkook’s position against the headboard while the machine works its magic. 

“You always look like an alien when you do that,” Jungkook jokes. 

“Like a sexy alien or an E.T. type?”

“Totally sexy, so fucking sexy,” he replies without missing a beat.

You blush bright pink and avoid his eyes before it gets any worse. Nothing about motherhood makes you feel even remotely sexy or desirable and yet there’s still hunger in Jungkook’s eyes whenever he sees you.

His love for you is genuinely the only thing that’s gotten you through the first month of parenthood and you can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. He’s always attentive to both you and Naru, never complains when you ask him to do something, and does everything in his power to relieve the weight on your shoulders. If there's a world where he didn’t accidentally knock you up, you don’t wish to live in it. 

Eventually, you and Jungkook are able to enter dreamland again after he places Naru in her crib. When he returns to the bedroom, he pulls you into his arms from behind and you melt into his warm embrace. His lips dance along your neck, jaw, and cheek while you hum happily at the familiar sensation. It’s been difficult not having dedicated alone time since Naru was born, so you cherish moments like these when you can relax as just the two of you.

Naru’s lovely cries wake you about four hours later, and you seize the opportunity to attend to her before Jungkook can steal your turn. 

When you reach the nursery, Usagi is posted up outside the door as she often is whenever your little girl is crying. Your adorable cat has fallen head over heels for your daughter and it makes you swoon whenever they interact. Bam’s also nearby, his ears perking up when you open the nursery door and he hears Naru crying. Of the two of them he’s taken on the protector role, turning him into quite the guard dog lately. You don’t allow them inside the room, but give them both a quick rub to thank them for being so caring. 

Naru is twisting and turning in her crib as she cries, her tiny hands reaching for you as soon as you appear before her eyes.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” you coo as you scoop her up. 

Cradling her to your chest, you soothe her by patting her back while she lays her head on your shoulder and cries into your shirt. One thing about newborns is it’s easy to figure out what they need since it can only be one of two things. So, you carry her to the changing table and diligently clean her up before getting her back into her onesie. She stretches her chunky fingers at you to hold her again and you immediately oblige, rocking her in your arms as you move across the room. 

The door creaks open as you’re laying her down again, but there’s no need to turn around to know who’s entering the room. 

The suspicion is confirmed when two strong arms wrap around your middle and you feel your boyfriend’s lips on your shoulder. As Jungkook continues pressing chaste kisses to your skin, you affectionately boop your daughter’s nose and watch as an adorable yawn takes over her face and her fingers curl into tiny fists.

Jungkook is still kissing along your shoulder and up your neck, but he isn’t trying to initiate anything, his lips are caressing you in a way you know means he’s merely doing it because he loves you and to silently thank you for doing everything you do. 

Your hand travels behind your head to play with his hair, tugging on it gently so you can hear his sweet laugh in your ear. 

“Wish we could stay like this forever, Bams.”

“Me, too,” you whisper. 

Turning around in his hold, you capture his neck with both arms and yank him closer for a real kiss. Jungkook automatically tugs you into him with his fingers clutching your waist, causing your back to arch as he deepens the kiss by coaxing your mouth open. 

It’s important to make time for intimacy even if it can’t lead anywhere yet, and truth be told, your inherent need to feel his lips on yours never wanes. You wonder if this so-called honeymoon phase will ever go away or if you just love him so much that this is what forever is going to be like. 

Jungkook grabs your jaw with one hand as his tongue slips into your mouth, and if he wasn’t holding you the action would probably send you falling into Naru’s cradle. You kiss him a hundred times a day, at least, and he still manages to make your knees weak every time. The two of you moan in harmony when your tongues meet and you press yourself harder against him in response. His chest is warm and solid and you can feel his steady heartbeat beneath his shirt. 

“I love you, babygirl,” he confesses quietly. 

He’s kissing you again before you’re able to reciprocate his devotion, but you part for the sake of oxygen a moment later and leave your foreheads touching. 

“I love you, too.”

You allow Naru to sleep in peace and exit the nursery holding hands. Jungkook leads you down the hall to his bedroom, which is technically shared now. There are plans to turn what was your bedroom back into Jungkook’s office since you certainly aren’t using it anymore, and you need the space where his desk currently sits for all of your furniture. 

Waking up in Jungkook’s arms is hands down the most wonderful feeling in the world, on par with holding Naru while she smiles radiantly at you. 

Upon returning to the confines of your bedroom, Jungkook brings you into him again so he can kiss you fervently. His intensity pulls a chuckle from your lungs as you shamelessly make out in the middle of the room. 

“How many more weeks again?” He asks breathlessly, referring to when you’ll be cleared for sexual activity.

“I’m not sure, since whoever decided on six weeks clearly never pushed a child out of their vagina,” you respond. 

Jungkook giggles while leaning in to kiss you again. He graces you with one last peck before heading to grab some towels so you can prepare for the day ahead.

“Well, whenever you are ready, just know I’ll be really gentle.”

“I don’t even think you believe that, Jungkook.”

His smile is riddled with faux guilt when he returns to your side. 

“Yeah, no, that’s a total lie.”

You smack his chest with the towel in retaliation, but you’re already laughing to reveal your true feelings. The two of you head to the bathroom together, making sure to grab the baby monitor so you can hear if Naru wakes up. 

Showering together is another sparing moment when you can just be in each other’s presence without any of the noise, so it’s become routine lately. Sometimes it gets interrupted by your daughter and one of you, usually Jungkook, has to run out in a towel to console her. One time, he still had shampoo in his hair and you carefully crafted a little bun on his head so it didn’t drip into his eyes. 

Jungkook turns the water on while you brush your teeth. It’s adorably domestic and reminds you just how far you’ve come since you first moved in more than six months ago. 

Your boyfriend strips as you're washing the toothpaste from your mouth and it takes everything in you not to drool into the sink. No matter how many times you see him naked, every glance feels like the first and you go dizzy over the sight. 

“Bambi, stop ogling me,” he teases. 

“Stop looking like that, then.”

“Oh, well excuse me.”

“You’re excused,” you reply, your arms crossing over your chest in victory. 

A sly grin appears as Jungkook begins robbing you of your own clothes. He caresses your torso once you’re naked in front of him, massaging your skin with his warm fingers until he reaches your hips and squeezes them with a quiet growl.

You frown involuntarily, your usual confidence noticeably absent in the skin you’re currently wearing. Some of the baby weight is gone, about ten or so pounds, but there are stretch marks and extra skin that didn’t previously exist staring back at you in the mirror.

“What is it, Bams?” He asks with evident concern. 

There’s confusion over your negative reaction painting Jungkook’s features as he eyes you inquisitively. 

“It’s unfair,” you pout. 

“What is, baby?” 

Your chin is pitched up by Jungkook’s pointer finger so he can watch your expressions when you respond. 

“How sexy you are,” you answer.

“Unfair to whom? I’m yours, aren’t I?” 

Blush creeps across your bare chest and neck, but his sweet words still don’t dispel your insecurities.

“Yeah, but I’m all flabby and misshapen while you still look freaking perfect.”

“Bambi, you look beyond perfect. There’s nothing that could make you not the most beautiful woman in the world,” Jungkook states earnestly.

“You’re only saying that because you’re in love with me,” you argue.

“No, no,” Jungkook says with a shake of his head. “I thought that long before I fell in love with you, Bams.” He can sense your disbelief, so he bends his knees until he’s staring directly into your eyes. “Do I need to kiss every inch of you to prove it? Because I fucking will.”

“No,” you mumble. His knuckles brush your cheekbone and you sigh. “I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like myself right now, you know?” 

“No need to apologize, baby, just tell me how to help and I will.” 

His everlasting love and consideration for you bring a smile to your face and you kiss him briefly before leading him towards the shower.

“You don’t need to do anything more than you already are,” you tell him. “And maybe once I’m fully recovered you can bring me with you to the gym so I can get back to normal faster.” 

Jungkook enthusiastically nods at your proposal of working out together. He’s been begging you for a while to join him at the gym, mostly because he wants to do push ups over you and kiss you everytime he goes down.

He holds you steady via a hand on your waist as you enter the shower before joining you under the falling water, keeping your back pressed to his chest while the steam encompasses you both. His lips find your neck as he slowly kisses across your wet skin, except unlike before, there’s fire behind his touch as he ravishes you in sensual affection. The water drenching you both only serves to up the intensity, the feeling of him licking up the droplets while he sucks on your throat sending you into euphoric bliss.

“Koo,” you moan, leaning your head on his shoulder as your eyes shut.

“Just because I can’t fuck you doesn’t mean I won’t make you feel good, babygirl,” he tells you. 

Which is precisely what he does as he continues kissing you in all the spots he knows drive you crazy while his hands caress you everywhere within reach. They eventually find purchase on your tits and he tactfully massages them in his big hands. 

His touch turns your brain to mush, your mind descending into a pool of pleasure as you relish in the sensation of his hands on you. It takes all your willpower not to say fuck it and let him push his cock into your cunt. If there wasn’t an adorable little girl who’ll be waking up soon, you’d let him manhandle you for hours until the water runs ice cold. 

You turn around abruptly upon deciding you want to taste him rather than feel him, and Jungkook catches on instantly, walking you both under the showerhead until your back meets the wall as his lips descend on yours. 

The kiss is deliciously sloppy from the combination of tongues chasing each other and water pouring down. Your hands rake into Jungkook’s dripping strands of black hair as you moan unabashedly into his mouth. One of Jungkook’s hands slams on the shower wall beside your head while the other catches your waist to keep your body pressed to his. Everything about it feels absolutely filthy even though you’re in a place meant for cleanliness. 

“I didn’t even know it was possible to want someone like this,” Jungkook whispers. “All the goddamn fucking time, baby.”

“Me, either,” you reply through a moan as Jungkook begins kissing down your neck again. “I don’t know how we went so long without it.”

He laughs while shaking his head where it resides in the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Because we’re idiots.”

There’s only a split second between his response and his lips latching onto your nipple, his hand inching up your spine to fondle the opposite breast. It forces a gasp out of you as you desperately grasp his hair in your hands. He plays with your tits in sync, sucking on your pebbled nub in perfect time with the movement of his fingers. An incoherent curse passes through your lips when his ministrations cause you to lactate into his mouth, and he groans in delight as he laps up the milk coming from your nipple with his tongue. The act is supremely messy because Jungkook is purposely missing some of your breast milk so he can lick it off your skin before the water washes it away.

He alternates between drinking straight from the source and allowing his tongue to collect it, but neither choice is better for your sanity. This isn’t the first time he’s acted upon his insatiable urges, just last week he wrapped his lips around your nipple after you were forced awake at three in the morning to check on Naru. The feeling of him sucking on you while you lactate was strange initially, but after a moment it made your head spin with pleasure as he played with your tits and fed himself from your body. 

“Fuck, Koo.” 

Your head hits the shower tile while he moans pathetically around your nipple.

“I’ll apologize to our daughter for stealing her food later,” he mumbles into your skin.

You chuckle and Jungkook naturally smiles just from the sound of your happiness. He leaves a final kiss on your breast before returning to your lips with a satisfied hum. 

You’ve never had shower sex before and unfortunately, today won’t be the day, but after this it’s certainly going on your list. 

Your lips continue clashing while you caress each other for an unknown amount of time, but when you do finally catch your breath, the water has begun cooling down. There’s a major responsibility to someone other than yourselves looming outside the bathroom door, so you stop being sexual deviants and actually wash up for the day. 

Jungkook pours some soap on your luffa so he can work it into your skin, not missing a single inch as he glides the sponge along your body. You do the same for him while he gathers shampoo in his hands and starts cleansing your hair. 

He’s sporting the most adorable look of concentration while he scrubs the shampoo on your scalp until it turns to suds. Repeating the motions on his own hair, you dig your nails between his strands and make him whine from the soothing sensation on his head. The two of you finish up quickly, turning off the water and handing each other your respective towels to dry off.

After getting dressed, you return to Naru’s nursery to wake her up and feed her. Ironically, you have to bottle feed her because Jungkook used up all the milk collecting in your breasts for her morning meal. She looks positively delighted to see you once she’s awake, a heart stopping giggle coming from her tiny body as you pick her up. 

Jungkook says he’ll prepare for your guests to arrive while you care for Naru, which includes dolling her up for her visitors. You don’t normally dress her in actual clothes, usually leaving her in a onesie for simplicity, but you want your friends to see her in some of the clothes they bought her. When she naps, you always swaddle her in the blanket Chaewon made and most of her toys come from your friends. 

You trudge downstairs with her resting on your shoulder to find Jungkook cleaning up some lingering dishes in the kitchen. Bam bounds over excitedly to greet you and you use your free hand to throw his bone across the room after petting his head. Usagi follows close behind at your feet, per usual, her big eyes staring up at you and Naru as you walk towards the kitchen. 

There’s a blindingly bright smile on Jungkook’s face when you enter the room and he instinctively gestures for your daughter. Gladly passing her over, you watch in endearment as he nuzzles his nose against hers and she makes an adorable cooing sound. 

“Hi, pretty girl,” he says in his baby voice. She giggles and reaches for his cheeks at the sound of him praising her. “Yeah? You want your daddy?” 

Her giggles grow louder when he blows raspberries on each of her chubby cheeks. She cuddles up against his chest as he holds her close, her eyes shutting serenely at the feeling of her dad’s warmth surrounding her. Jungkook bounces her in his arms which causes her to smile adoringly at him and her little toothless grin makes your heart sing. 

You automatically take over for him on the chore front since Naru clearly wants some daddy-daughter time. 

When she wakes up after falling asleep in Jungkook’s warm embrace, it’s obvious she’s uncomfortable and needs her diaper changed. You never predicted being able to tell which cries mean what, but you’ve memorized every single noise she makes at this point. Jungkook volunteers for dumpster duty while you finish up downstairs. 

When they return, she’s still crying incessantly, only it’s soft whimpers you both know mean she wants her mommy. Jungkook gracefully hands her to you, ensuring she’s secure in your arms before letting go. You bring her to the couch and lay her in your lap, holding her little hands and moving them in circles to soothe her.

“Hi, sweet Naru.” Her cries diminish as soon as she hears your voice. “I love you so much, my darling girl. Yeah, that’s right.” 

She makes the cutest baby sound imaginable and squeezes your fingers to the best of her ability. You coo in adoration and bend down to kiss her tummy so she giggles even more. Jungkook clicks his tongue over your shoulder. 

“I always think she’s such a daddy’s girl until you get your hands on her,” he comments. 

“She is a daddy’s girl, Koo. In fact, she may be more obsessed with you than I am.” You boop her nose and her smile grows while she sticks her tongue out. “Isn’t that right, Naru? Mommy’s gonna have to fight you for him, aren’t I, little girl?”

The noise she makes sounds suspiciously like a yes. Jungkook blushes deep red, his love for his daughter physically manifesting on his cheeks. 

“I love her more than anything, but you’ll always be my girl, Bams,” he says with a kiss to your cheek.

An hour later the first of your guests arrives. You purposely told them all different times, in about ten minute increments, so everyone gets devoted time with Naru without fighting over her. Jihyo is first, and she has enough gifts in her hands to fill the entire nursery. She squeals and jumps a couple inches off the ground in delight when you appear before her with Naru. The gift bags fall to the floor with a plop as she extends her arms to take her niece from you. 

“Naru, my sweetheart!” She cheers.

You and Jungkook are able to take a much needed parenting reprieve as your friends slowly pile in and pass your daughter around like a hot potato. Once all thirteen of them have arrived, everyone spreads out between the living room and the kitchen. 

Naru is currently sound asleep in Yoongi’s arms, the usually expressionless man wearing a face of complete joy as he watches her with his gummy smile even though she’s not awake to return it. 

“I still don’t understand how the youngest of us is a dad before anyone else,” Jin says as he chews on his slice of pizza.

“Because he’s a doofus,” Jimin responds. 

“Hey! I may be a doofus, but I took part in making the cutest little girl ever,” Jungkook defends himself. “In fact, you could say I’m about fifty percent of the reason she’s so adorable!”

“Kook, you got to creampie the hottest woman we all know and then magically have a child nine months later. I’ll give you five percent tops,” Chaewon argues. 

Everyone chuckles at Chaewon’s extremely high level overview of pregnancy.

“She seems really well behaved,” Yunjin comments. 

“She is,” you say proudly. “Naru is a little angel.”

“You won’t be saying that in a few months,” Namjoon says. “She’ll be a demon once she starts teething.”

“Oh, remind me not to visit around then,” Hoseok adds.

As if she heard them talking smack about her, Naru wakes up and begins fussing around in Yoongi’s arms. His eyes go wide at the foreign behavior and he immediately locks eyes with Jungkook across the room for assistance. Your boyfriend smiles at his friend’s nervousness and goes to grab your daughter before she starts crying 

When she instantaneously settles down at the feeling of Jungkook holding her, all seven girls harmoniously gasp in awe. 

“Oh my gosh, she loves you, Jeon!” Eunchae states. 

“I would sure hope so,” he replies with a proud grin. 

He kisses her head a couple times and she nuzzles against his shoulder, tucking her face into his neck and laying her adorable, chunky, baby hand on his chest. 

“Wow, never thought I’d see the day,” Taehyung notes from where he sits with a hand on Mina’s thigh.

“So, who’s next? I think Naru needs a playmate, right?” Nayeon asks the room, her eyebrows rising when she meets Mina’s gaze. 

Mina aggressively shakes her head while putting her hands up in surrender.

“Nuh uh, not yet, especially not after hearing about what Y/N went through,” she states.

“How are you doing, Y/N?” Tzuyu changes the subject to ask.

“I’m recovering, some days are worse than others,” you answer. “I honestly thought I was going to die.”

“I still can’t believe you did it without any pain meds,” Chaewon says with a shake of her head. 

“You and me both.”

“It was genuinely pure magic,” Jungkook comments, his hand gently patting Naru’s back. “She’s a fucking goddess.”

You send him a charming smile from across the room and he blows a kiss at you in return. 

“It was worth it, that’s all I know,” you respond.

“It totally was, look at your little girl! She’s perfect,” Eunchae says. 

“We can only hope the rest of us schmucks make children as lovely as Naru someday,” Jimin states while holding his glass up to cheers. “To our niece!”

Everyone raises their own glasses in solidarity, except for Jungkook, who lifts Naru up Lion King-style as she giggles and kicks her little feet in joy. 

The night continues with Naru being passed around the room a couple more times. She seems to enjoy her uncle Jin the most, probably because he’s an expert at making funny faces that cause her to cheerfully scream and laugh. Jihyo also garners much of her attention, with Naru making grabby hands at her every so often. Mina jokes it’s because Jihyo has big tits and your daughter is getting her confused with a source of nutrients. 

Your friends eventually say their goodbyes until all that remains are the vast amount of gifts they brought. You and Jungkook mutually agree to put them away in the morning and use this precious time for quality family bonding in bed. 

The two of you lay on your stomachs with Naru between you on the mattress. You both take turns tickling her and blowing raspberries on her stomach and thighs just to hear the perfect laugh you adore so much. It feels like pure, unadulterated bliss, and with Bam and Usagi both curled up by your feet, you feel utterly complete as a little family of five. 

Resting your head on your arm, you gaze at Jungkook as he admires his little girl. The adoration in his sparkling eyes makes you feel eternally grateful to your past self for the decision she made. Here you thought you were sleeping with Jungkook just to try it, and now your heart is reborn in more ways than one. It’s swollen to max capacity with both romantic love for your best friend and unconditional love for your daughter. 

Jungkook notices your stare and raises an eyebrow at you. When you don’t respond, he leans over Naru to kiss you and pull you from your reverie.  

“You gonna tell me why you’re looking at me like that, Bambi?” 

You shake your head.

“I don’t have to because you already know,” you respond. 

He smiles beautifully and tucks some of your hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah, I do.”

Jungkook kisses you again, smoothly gliding his lips over yours while he pours his love for you into the gesture. Ardently returning his kiss, you caress his cheek with one hand and move your lips in a gentle harmony with his. Your foreheads meet after pulling away and upon looking sideways, you see Naru playfully rolling side to side between you. You share a heartwarming laugh at her mannerisms, both of you so completely taken by your daughter and each other. 

“I’m so glad I asked you to try something new that night, Bams. Now we get to do everything together for the rest of our lives, starting with parenting.”

“Mm, same here, Koo.” You lean back and rest your head in your hand. “I wonder what other new stuff we’ll get up to.”

Jungkook hums inquisitively and tongues his cheek as he ponders his answer, but then his eyes light up with a mischievous grin. 

“Marriage?”

Taglist: @lovingkoalaface @starcandybby @junniesoleilkth @keylime4eva @kissyfacekoo @rpwprpwprpwprw @spideyjimin @jjeonjjk7 @joonlover1207 @annpeachy @rexana19 @heartwith0uthe @kosmos1307 @minyoongi7016 @magicalnachocreator @misschelliejeon @bubblyi3 @bhonbhon @polnaraffsrack @amarawayne @majesticjung-97 @kmpj9 @upo1313 @songbyeonkim @kikikaaa @glowjuli @avawants2havefun @hyeinwluv85s @someonegoood @kyljjk @lalaren @dna2723 @tteokbokibyjk @tatyhend @kookienooki @ana-marais98 @gimeow @importantflowersblog43 @minghaosimp @belleilichil @neurospicynugget @missdumpling190811 @jungkooksnerniemilk @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @kayswatanabe @fancypeacepersona @jeonsgf-97 @star-my @neg-l3ct @kelsyx33

[tastesousweet]

⭒ crush

| hamzahthefantastic x youtuber!reader au

summary: hamzah has a crush that is extremely obvious to everyone except you ... somehow?! (both written & smau!!!)

a/n: happy new years!!!!!!

— march 2024

hamzah is hungry beyond belief.

martin's already assured him both over facetime and text that he's on his way with their full course meal of chinese takeout— currently sat in the basket of martin's rented bike, jostling up and down with every bump of the toronto pavement without a doubt. yet his stomach is still throwing a tantrum, depraved of any nutrients while his brain repeats in a neanderthal-like manner "food. coming. soon." in hopes of reducing the pressure within his poor stomach.

he opens instagram, needing some sort of an escape, because naturally a little doom-scrolling will ease his (dramatic but still very real) pain. somehow, among the ridiculous animal reels and comedic twitch clips on his explore feed, he stumbles upon a reel from you. a girl with a different quality and charm to your face and character than anything he's seen in other content creators.

not only does your bubbly yet elegant voice keep him watching but the subject matter is rather fitting— you're cooking a homemade chicken pot pie for the first time. in the video you talk about how often your mother would prepare it growing up and now it's become a popular craving for you. hamzah watches intently as if he were ready to get up and make his own pot pie alongside you.

"hey! the hell are you smiling at?" martin's voice is breathy due to his trek to and from the chinese restaurant. he walks into the living room holding a crinkly plastic bag reading: "thank you! have a nice day!" with that big, yellow smiley face in between.

"huh? nothin'." hamzah dismisses and adjusts himself on the couch, "come on, 'm starving!" he reaches his hand out to take the food from martin before patting the seat next to him.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— june 2024

"so when are you gonna come see us?"

it was a surprise to see hamzah follow you on instagram a few months ago. you'd heard his name thrown around in certain spaces of the internet but never really indulged in any of his content.

his instagram had the format of a shitposting ten-year-old but it only made you curious about the humorous twenty-something. eventually you'd watched a youtube video of his; completely laughing your ass off and finding your eyes chasing after hamzah whenever he was in even the tiniest of frames.

it was never a serious crush by any means, just a nice piece of secret eye-candy who also happened to have a great personality and an enviously good work ethic (the effort martin and hamzah put into their videos was astonishing to you).

so you were quite nervous to be the first to dm him, in hopes of a friendship or a least a quick exchange of "hey." it was only right — you two had been liking each other's poss and stories a consistent amount.

the mellow first exchange between the two of you in april blossomed into you both constantly talking in your free time; your friendship quickly to developed a flirty back-and-forth dynamic that sometimes borders on way more than platonic. eventually martin was added to your consistent facetime calls and you’ve even let them convince you to create a discord account to play minecraft and grand theft auto online with them.

and now you’re lying on your leather couch with both of their faces displayed in your laptop’s screen, eager to hear your response.

“i don’t know…” you play with a loose end of the sweater you’re wearing, “what would we even do?”

they both stay quiet for a moment before hamzah laughs, “why are you acting like you don’t wanna say yes right now?”

a smile slowly grows on your face “okay… gimme a second,” you begin to google flight information to and from toronto.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— september 2024

yourusername

Liked by clairedrake, hamzahthefantastic, and others

yourusername Y’all didn’t tell me they get wild in the 6 , Omg??!! Highly requested video out neow <3

View all comments

chaserutherford 🍽️8️⃣ • ♥︎ by author

yourusername I rlly do miss u already 😖😖😖😖

ynfan01 ohhhh this was so necessary thank u mother☺️!! • ♥︎ by author

yourusername Mhm!!! Olivia Wilde head nod 💞💞

slushieeee333 y/n: slurping pasta , hamzah the whole time: 😊👀😍��

thatmartinkid hey look ma i made it!!! 🫵😂 • ♥︎ by author

ynsnumberone THE FLIRTING WENT CRAZYYYYY

slushedyn her and hamzah are obsessed with each other i fear

thatslushykid COME BACK 2 TORONTO ASAP I NEED MORE COLLABS RN!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

hamzahluver45 ok but like it’s so obvious that her trying to flirt was just irritating them the whole time !! Like girl ..💀💀

hamzahthefantastic Posting our dms is already one thing , but TAGGING ME is actually crazy 🤔🤔 • ♥︎ by author

yourusername R u mad @ me Bby???? 😕

hamzahthefantastic BruhLmaooooooooooo

freakzahfan that's one too many "o"s just say u wanna kiss her my boy

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“oh!” you accidentally trip over yourself while walking backwards and stumble into hamzah, who was standing in front of the unfamiliar grocery store, watching you prepare to give an intro. “jesus,” martin laughs under his breath from behind the camera. he lowers the camera, showing his feet but still picking up his voice in the mic, “you good?!”

the clip cuts to you stood upright again, "i'm in the six!!!" you exclaim loudly, raising your arms above your head. "and i'm here with slushy noobz to add to my series where other creators "teach me" their specialty. you tug at hamzah's arm and pull him into the frame with you, "hamzah tell them what you and martin are gonna teach me," you look up a him while still holding onto his arm. you interrupt him before he even begins to speak, "oh yeah! martin is also here by the way!" you point and martin flips the camera to himself. "they're just leaving me out it's fine, i know i'm out already, just vote just vote," he references with a sigh before turning it back to you and hamzah. "don't start! chase is on his way to come and film for us-" "listen! this is our plan-- we're gonna teach you how to mukbang; everyone knows we're very qualified in this field and know everything there is to know about the subject, so, uhh, yeah we're kinda experts. i dont know, would you say that, martin?" hamzah rambles. "yeah, i think that's a good way to describe us" "perfect! then you're teachin' me how to kiss next, right?" you ask. hamzah goes from looking at you attentively (hanging onto your every word) to a face deadpanned as he glances over to martin trying not to smile.

the video cuts to a clip with the three of you, finally, all in one shot now that chase is behind the camera. you pull a cart out from its slot and push yourself on it before standing both feet on top of the tiny foot bar, gliding through the automatic doors.

next, a clip of martin speaking to the camera while you and hamzah look through different pasta sauces together, "okay we didn't really explain this well but essentially we're all going to cook a nice dish and then eat it together in front of you guys. isn't that cute?" "yeah, can't wait for us to mukbang together" hamzah speaks. martin turns back to the camera with a smirk, "i bet you wish you were mukbanging with us huh, chase?" "no. and you just made that word up." martin's face falls.

the entire grocery shopping trip is filmed with little moments like hamzah mispronouncing a few brand names, martin talking to strangers about which pasta noodle to try, and you randomly walking off into estranged aisles "just to see if things are really different here"

now, you're all back at martin's home; you read aloud the recipe and hamzah is stood practically on top of you as he also looks down at the phone, all while martin lays ingredients out of the counter. "okay simple enough," hamzah says. "yeah, and you're still gonna make me do all of the work anyway," martin huffs sarcastically. you giggle a bit, "martin the most you'll have to do is boil water, i'll force him to do the rest." "huh???!! who??" hamzah questions, his smiley face “accidentally” leaning far too close to yours. "you, duh!" you laugh and turn away to look for a large pot.

throughout the cooking process you slowly stop helping; talking to mandy while you two eat chips and salsa while leaning on the counter or petting the pets instead of doing any of the tasks given to you from the self-proclaimed chefs.

"this is literally your video! what the hell y/n?!" martin whines when he finds you and mandy making a tiktok in his "man cave" together after you'd told them you were going to the bathroom, "seriously mandy?" all of the audio can be heard from the mics on your clothing. "where was she?" hamzah says monotonous as he scrolls on his phone. "making freaking tiktoks with mandy of course!" you giggle as you walk into the kitchen behind him, "what? the food is practically done, we're just waiting on garlic bread!" you shrug and hamzah immediately turns at the sound of your voice. "well, you gonna at least show us?" hamzah asks casually placing his hands on the counter around you, trapping you in the space between him and the marble surface. "yeah," you tilt your head so you can look at his face as you make fun of his not-so-friendly gesture, "you wanna keep breathing down my neck like that while i show you?" he laughs and moves away to cover up the embarrassment of being called out. "stop!" you laugh and bring him back into frame forcing him and martin to watch you and mandy dance on your phone screen.

the four of you sit on the carpet with plates full of chicken alfredo and pieces of garlic bread laid out on martin’s coffee table. you all talk about your experience in toronto so far, how you and hamzah first met, … et cetera.

martin attempts to teach you canadian slang: “keener is big here.” “actually? what the hell does that even mean?” “it’s kinda like a try hard— people will call you a keener if you’re doing too much, basically.” “wait tell me more!” “i mean things like buddy is way too common here. some random old guys will call me that and it always throws me off??” “yeah they always say it so demeaning,” hamzah laughs. “do you guys actually say ‘eh?’ all the time? i feel like i haven’t noticed it a lot.” you ask genuinely. “i won't lie.. i say it more often than i like to admit!” mandy says. you’ve noticed that no matter if you’re the one speaking or not hamzah’s eyes keep glancing and sometimes full on staring at you (he really doesn’t mean to but he thinks he’s finally processing that you’re actually here with them after months of wanting this) you're flattered nonetheless.

at some point hamzah and martin recreate a scene in lady and the tramp, successfully slurping at the same noodle until hamzah retreats and martin sighs at his lack of commiting to the bit. you laugh along before asking hamzah’s to share a noodle with you with a smile slapped over your face, “me next?” he fights off any blushing with a roll of his eyes and his response of, “yeah? ask me again in a sec.”

after you’ve all finished eating, you complete the video with a big smile and a promise of more collaborations in the future.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

•••

[six-tooth]

anyway feeling very normal about this scene

the fact that after a long, unpleasant day of absolutely nothing going his way and constantly being reminded of how much everyone else dislikes him, he's too tired to keep his act up and seeks out a genuine conversation with the one person whom he hasn't interacted with through the entire adventure

Pomni about to answer sincerely before realizing it's Jax and changing her approach, either out of caution or uncertainty by him being so... casual

she braces for one of his usual remarks/jokes but is surprised when he answers with neither, simply letting her know how he's doing as well

finally, when he's called over for another task, he's still visibly annoyed but follows through without much protest and waves goodbye to Pomni, who is undoubtedly confused by what she just saw.

there have been a couple of instances where the series shows us that Jax is being affected by the circus more than he lets on, and they were really focused on during this episode.

this got me thinking about what Goose really meant by him "getting worse"; most people (myself included) interpreted it as his actions gradually escalating to a point where it could result in conflict with the rest of the cast, but after this scene and near the end where he leaves and gets in his car, it could be understood as his repressed emotions finally catching up to him and turning his mental well-being for the worst. It could also be a mix of the two

now this is the part where I put my delusional cap on, but there has been a significant build up to Jax and Pomni's relationship through the whole series, the most notorious one being:

his hand missing from Pomni's moment of realization that the other people she's been trapped with are trustworthy and care for her. You obviously can't blame her for coming to this conclusion, but I think that's exactly what made this small interaction a lot more important

Jax has been pushing others away and masking his emotions for who knows how long, and one of the primary focus and messages of TADC is connections with others and how important they are, so for them to show us Pomni seeing Jax have a brief moment of vulnerability, I do believe it's reasonable to think that they will eventually develop a relationship with some amount of significance, maybe even something close to a friendship

but yeah, feeling very normal

[goorgeousz]

paperwork for two | aaron hotchner

after hours au

paperwork for two | aaron hotchner

after hours au

pairing: aaron hotchner x profiler!female!reader

summary: you help a stubborn aaron with his paperwork.

content/tw: just pure fluff, reader wants to help, and aaron claims he doesn't need it (he desperately does)

word count: 1.3k

a/n: I don’t know if you people are into this kind of posts… but this au is a slow burn and I’m a sucker for relationships development so😭

anyway, you can ask me anything about their relationship or request a specific scenario (being in this au or not)

since some of you asked, i decided to make a tag list (for this au only and for all of my criminal minds x reader posts) ! let me know if you want to be in it :)

after hours masterlist

main masterlist

Hotch heard the three quick knocks on his door, and it was the first time he glanced up from his paperwork for the last couple hours.

Yes, you were counting.

“Come in.” he said, his voice hoarse from barely speaking. It was a dull friday at the BAU, the team had come back from a case in Atlantic City just a few days prior, so the most agitation they had that day was the ungodly amount of paperwork.

The rest of the team had left, all of them having worked extra time to try and minimize the amount of work on monday, but the tiredness got the best of them.

Except, of course, for Hotch.

One doesn’t become an Unit Chief by just giving the government the entirety of their days — their nighttime absolutely must be compromised too.

You opened the door, folding your arms close to your chest and leaning against the doorframe, staring at your boss in disapproval.

“Are you leaving anytime soon?” you asked, already knowing the answer. Hotch glanced at his watch, his eyes slightly widened in surprise — in that barely-noticeable way of his — and back at the stack of paper.

“Not really. The team?”

“They just left.” you explained. He nodded in approval. His team was fine, at least one less thing for him to worry about. Before he could ask when you were leaving — less in a “leave me alone” and more in a “I’m worried about you, go get some rest” way — you pointed at the stack of files on the right side of his desk. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

He looked at it, trying to estimate a time frame. The approximated results made him sigh loudly. “Too much.” his eyes turned back to you, who looked a mist of worry, pity and fear. With your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth in a pout (the one you unconsciously did when you were deep in thought), he knew you were thinking of a solution. So Hotch, the most selfless person on earth, stopped you. “But I might leave it for Monday. I’ll just finish this one to ease the load for then.”

You pressed your lips together, fighting with your life to not call on his bluff. Giving him a short nod, you wiped your hands on your pants in what he knew was stress, like your body itched by not being able to help. “Alright, I’ll leave you at it.”

“Thank you. Good night.” he said, and you nodded — still with your lips pressed together — before closing the door behind you.

He could still hear the clicking of your heels fading away — not too far away, his hearing wasn’t that good. There was no point in denying: you were right to be worried. It was late, and he was tired. And he couldn’t possibly finish that amount of paperwork before the sunrise. He really should get some rest. But somehow his body couldn’t physically let itself relax when it knew how much work was pending. It was best — at least not worse — for him to finish it all right now and then get some rest.

So, knowing that whining would get him absolutely nowhere but later to his oh, long awaited rest, he just sighed, shifted slightly on his seat and got back to work.

Again, he lost himself in his work, not even realizing how much time had passed until he heard another knock on the door. Three quick knocks. Which was weird because he knew for a fact that everyone on the team had already left.

“Come in?” he probably should’ve asked who was there first, but he would tell them to come in no matter the answer.

When the door was opened, Hotch was left with more questions than before.

You opened it with your elbow and closed it with your hip with an ease that only someone used to doing this could master. On your right hand you had a to-go coffee cup holder with two large and definitely sugary drinks from the nearby coffee shop, and on your left you carried a large takeout bag, its smell filling the office immediately. Last but not least on the lists of surprises, you had changed from your work appropriate clothes to a much more comfortable attire: leggings, hoodie and slippers.

“What…?” he dazed, not even knowing where to begin . You bit back a laugh “The coffee, the food or the clothes? Or me?” you asked, clearly amused by his confused look. “Yes.” you actually laughed at that.

“This is iced caramel macchiato. We’ll need the sugar as much as the caffeine. These are burritos from Derek’s go-to place. I figured I’d pick something we could eat using only one hand. You know, to save time and effort. See? I, too, can think like a boss.”

“You didn’t have to.” he said, blinking. His stomach growled like it wanted to beg for your help. You rolled your eyes at him.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal? Move those papers, please?” you asked, nodding towards the mess on his desk. He complied immediately, more to help and ease the weight you carried than to agree to your little late night picnic.

“Burritos and overly-sugary coffees are barely a proper meal” he teased. You narrowed your eyes. “You survived on burnt coffee, cashews and dark chocolate bars from the vending machine for the last three days.” Instead of pointing out how much you paid attention to him – because that would’ve affected him more than you, truly – he just surrendered. “Fair enough. Now, you should go home.”

“And miss all the fun?” you asked, sitting criss crossed on the chair in front of him – no, he would not think about your flexibility – and quickly tying your hair with a red claw clip. “Besides, I have nothing else to do tonight. Hand me the straws, will you?”

He handed them a pointed look. “You should go rest. You’re not on the clock.”

“If I’m not on the clock, all your orders are just stubborn suggestions that I’ll choose to ignore. Respectfully.”

“Saying ‘respectfully’ after an insubordination doesn’t automatically make up for it.”

“You could also just say ‘thank you’.” you raised your eyebrows, inducing him to accept it. His gaze softened and the tip of his ears blushed. He didn’t have to be so stubborn all of the time.

“Thank you.” he said quietly. You wouldn’t comment on how your heartbeat raced slightly.

You grabbed a few silence and you ate in silence, apart from some comments about the food and the drink. Although he complained about the coffee being ‘too sugary for his taste’, Hotch drank the entire 16 oz in it. Being a sympathetic employee and friend, you didn’t make fun of him. But you would keep that to yourself, just in case someone decided to pick on your sweet tooth again.

The night went on with small talk, a few laughs (!!) and much paperwork. You even managed to finish it before 3 a.m. It went surprisingly smoothly for a couple of people who hadn’t been alone for months.

Hotch wouldn’t think about the circumstances of that last encounter right now, with you in front of him. And he couldn’t dare to let his eyes wonder at how those leggings hugged tightly and perfectly those full thighs of yours. He chose to ignore the stubborn thump on his chest when you laughed, the sound echoing through the empty halls of the unit while you waited for the elevator to finally go home. He was even able to keep his body from jerking in ecstasy when you held on to his arms when you lost balance because of how hard you laughed at a particularly funny joke of his (he partially blamed the sleep deprived state you were in, but he let himself be a little proud. Just a little.)

He didn’t stare for too long (after the five first minutes) at the message you sent him to let him know you got home safe and wishing you a good night. And a smiley face. 

He was nonchalant like that.

[iqxatlantic]

heyyyy love your fics <333

can you do sugar daddy Kaiser who's always been rude and rough with reader but one day when he realises he's falling in love with them he's really gentle, asking how they feel and praising them? if possible can you do fluff along with nsfw???

ahh hii anon!! thank uu i appreciate ur words <33 anywayss i love the plot ohh gosh ygs r so creative omg

"And all I wanna do is stay with HER"

ft. michael kaiser . sugar daddy! kaiser . ooc! kaiser lol... . ness is in the story omg! . is ness ooc! too... . yes ness is ooc asw . character development.? . eventual smut . sex gulp... . piv ! . afab! reader . mistreated! reader ... . fluff asw . unreliable narrator

wc: 1.0k

"she's annoying." kaiser grumbled, taking a sip of wine. ness looked at him, "[name] cares about you that's why." the magician tried to lighten the mood. clearly, it didn't work.

"she just wants fucking money." he retorted. ness frowned, "can't you look at it in a positive way.? at least she's trying. take a look at all the others you've had."

that sentence had kaiser reflecting for a bit. "huh. i suppose you have a point for once, ness." the prodigy felt himself get a little flushed. "you're treating her so rough, how often does she even ask for money.?" ness continued. "don't be so harsh man! she's trying..."

the emperor tsked. "if she's so 'perfect' you take her then." he grumbled. jeez this guy is really helpless man... ness looked at kaiser disgusted for the first time.

"keep acting like that and she's bound to become who you think she really is." ness thought as he picked himself up and left kaiser to his thoughts.

later within the night, kaiser found himself scrolling through your photos after sending you some money (oh need that.) it hit him you were gorgeous. pretty face with a kind heart.. he was going to go insane.

the more he scrolled the more he admired your beauty. you radiated an aura that he just couldn't place his finger on. perfection was a word too vague to describe it.

shaking his head, he set his phone down. hands on his head, he was wondering. what the literal hell was he doing.? all he's ever done was treat you like shit because he had such horrendous experiences with others.

i mean, you were like the others. you were just there for the money... and attention i guess. but there was something more to it. he was just to blind to see it. (tf r ur glasses for mihya bro.)

it was late — hella late. 2:32 A.M.? there's no way you'd come over right? so what the heck were you doing at his door in a matter of moments?

kaiser opened his door, surprised. "you — you actually came?" he asked, somewhat in disbelief. "i'm right here aren't i, dumbass.. plus you called." you shrugged.

the satin on the bed somewhat wrinkled as the both of you sat down. "um, so why'd you want me to come ove-" you were quickly interrupted by an apology. "[name], liebling. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for my behaviour, how i treated you. scheiße, i'm so fuckin' sorry."

he held your visibly smaller and softer hands. his hands feeling quite the opposite. you were kinda a dumbass, "wha — michael huh...?" you shook your head giggling, "what are you apologizing for?"

his gorgeous blue eyes stared into yours. "don't act coy with me, [name]. you don't need to forgive me. i'll do whatever for your forgiveness. please. do you want more money? gifts.? flowers..? wha.. god. what do you want?!" kaiser asked desperately.

you looked at him with a deadpan expression. god, has this man ever been treated alright.? "mihya, i don't really want anything. yea i mean i love money i mean — who doesn't love money. but i'm not here solely because of money." you sighed.

"yes, you have money is definitely a positive trait but, you have more to it. money isn't the only thing that makes you lovable." you continued to ramble. his hands released yours. you were caught in his embrace.

"mihya.?" you whispered. kaiser knew how scary it was to love someone. the amount of devotion you must give. the time and effort. one wrong move? it could all crumble.

his embrace got tighter, you were tensing a little bit up. was he gonna beat you like what the heck is goin' on?! he knew you were always running away from love, 'cause your daddy never gave you enough :((

hey, same for him as well, no? "meine liebe." kaiser breathed, "let's try again together. i'm done with the 'you deserve better' bullshit. i have the choice to be better and i'm taking it."

he loosened his embrace on you, hands on your shoulders. you met his gaze. all it could scream was blue of desperation. not going to even lie, most dedication you've seen in your whole life.

you were still skeptical — hell, i can't blame you! you've been mistreated all the time by partners, getting taken advantage of... what change is this rich and attractive man going to do? he has the money, the women ugh... thinking about it made your head hurt.

"what do you say, liebling. let me show you.?" he leaned in, mumbling into your ear. hah! as if you'd believe what he said and give him a chance.

kaiser would be lying if he said he didn't regret making up with you earlier. he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss you. hell! every bit of fiber within him missed you! his lips on yours, oh gosh. he's going crazy. :c

a little while after what was supposed to be a sweet make out, he found himself aligning his tip to your slit. you had glossy eyes as you stared back up at him. he had you pinned onto the bed...

"are you sure?" he asked stroking your stomach, his hands then tracing your curves. "fuu-uck. you're perfect." he mumbled. you nodded in response.

as he buried his length into your warmth he swore he got sent to heaven. "sh-shit.. scheißescheißescheiße...! please you're made for me..." he continued, his lips once more pressed onto yours.

nah, at this point his cock was stretching your opening... it hurt. kaiser broke off the kiss as he groaned, "you take me so damn well.. i'm sorry for being so horrid to you."

you were practically crying, was it cause the sex was good? cause of kaiser? you didn't know! "m-hya.." you sobbed out so sweetly. it was kaiser's last straw.

your walls were sucking his member in man..! how could he not..? your noises could kill him oh gosh! one last thrust and his length was kissing your womb :c "i'm sorry meine liebe, i-" the emperor didn't even get to finish his sentence as he finished in you <3

he pulled out just to push his fingers back in. admiring your form and expression. maaaan, kaiser couldn't ask for a better girl >< dawn came, so did kaiser, 'cept he n you came multiple times :3 kaiser could make it better. all he needed was just one more day with ya.

— ©iqxatlantic / isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags !! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc

a/n: hey guys.. hey anon.. guess who's finally back heh... my writers block actually fried me so bad its diabolical man.. yes i lost motivation half way along w the plot tbf i had this in my drafts for 2 weeks or smth... i'm so sorry if this wasn't what y'all wanted ill cook for the future ones ;-; not proofread btw good GAWDDDD if kaiser was my sugar daddy man.. money and hes hot YES PLSS (no im nawt shallow but tuition fees are booty bro yall cant blame me.) yes this is all yap ALL MY NOTES ARE YAP OK </3 but um.. yay ilygs a lot mwa mwa <3

[yukismissingphone]

i have a name | l.s

a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister

summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much

Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'

But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.

Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.

The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.

"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.

"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.

"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.

You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."

Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.

You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.

It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.

"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.

"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.

"That bad huh?"

"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."

The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.

"You get used to it." You shrugged.

"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."

"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.

"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.

"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.

"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.

You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."

-x-

"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.

"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.

He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"

"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.

You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.

"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"

"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.

"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."

Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."

"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.

It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.

Y/N:

Thank you again for tonight.

His response was quick making your stomach flutter.

Logan:

You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N

Y/N:

I know

I enjoyed talking to you tonight

So thank you for your company 😊

Logan:

I enjoyed talking to you too 😊

I hope we can do it again some time

You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.

Y/N:

I would love to ☺️

Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙

Logan:

Good luck Y/N 😊

[leoascendente]

PAC/ Intuitive messages IV 🔮

Hi my loves and welcome to this new PAC! This time we have the fourth edition of intuitive messages. As always, take a moment to check what pile calls you the most, you could have messages in more than one too. Take only what resonates and leave the rest 🩷

* Don't make life decitions based on a general reading online, use your discernment. Minors dni 🔞

For private readings click here

My blog in spanish here

All pics are from pinterest, credits to their owners

Pile 1/pile 2/pile 3

Pile 1:

🫧 You need to focus on your career and long term goals, things are changing and you need to be ready

🫧 There's a blonde woman around your age you must be careful of, she could be in your same work enviroment or friend group

🫧 An unexpected amount of money is going to land in your lap as a work of magic, buy yourself something you enjoy as a sing of gratitude

🫧 You have a lot of sexual energy, keep it healthy and for singles, use it wisely to manifest your true love

🫧 There's a secret admirer that is planning to approach you with a nice surprise, be open to receive

🫧 Don't worry about those who don't wish you well, you are protected and they are being watched by karma

🫧 A commitment is about to happen, it could be in love or in career, so take it as resonates but I feel it's more related to love and romance

🫧 You'll be more in tune with your spiritual nature, you'll understand better the signs from your guides in your daily life

🫧 Some complications could appear, keep grounded and trust that you are being guided, you'll overcome every obstacle with grace and divine protection

🫧 Your guides will communicate through numbers 1222 or 1212 to tell you that everything is going in your favor, foxes and the scent of flowers will be signs too. Angelic beings are very present in your life, you'll see references to them very often, especially cherubims

Pile 2

🎀 Mercury retrograde will be an amazing time for you, it will bring you unexpected good luck. Check your Mercury's natal placement to know what areas will be impacted positively

🎀 I see a trip or vacations of some kind, maybe it's just having more free time to relax and invest in yourself. It could also mean that something special will happen during the holidays

🎀 Money will be entering your life, if you were scared of not being able to pay debts just know that you'll receive the money you need

🎀 You'll get invited to a night out with friends or a celebration, accept that offer because you'll have an amazing time

🎀 A massive change is about to happen in your life, I think you can sense it too. Rest as much as you can and do things that keep you grounded

🎀 Good things will be happening as a Dharma for something good you did in the past, it's a reward from Universe

🎀 You could loose an important object but it will be a sign that you have overcome a major challenge and the worst is left behind

🎀 You'll receive a major piece of advice from an older woman, for some I see a passed loved one communicating through dreams

🎀 Change your daily routines, there's something about it that no longer works for you and needs to be reorganized. Also, rest more often, your health needs it

🎀 Your guides are showing me grapes, it could be a sign to eat them more often or a sign of material abundance. Dolphins will be signs of upcoming luck and sharks a sign of divine protection. For some I'm hearing to develop your connection with the sea or the water element

Pile 3:

💖 Love is in the air for you my dear! Get ready because you are about to enter into the relationship of your dreams

💖 All your problems are going to get solved, don't stress that much. Your guides announce a triumph over troubles so there's no need to worry

💖 You are on the right path, stop doubting yourself honey, you really need to work on self sabotage or negative thinking

💖 You are about to get invited to a very romantic date, someone is really in love with you and wants to show it 🤭

💖 You'll be getting extra money, your guides are telling you to don't hold too tight to it and simply use it with gratitude. You could have some messages in pile 1 too

💖 There's an spiritual lesson you'll be learning that will feel like a hug to your soul, something you've experienced is going to make sense after receiving this info

💖 Someone with prominent Sagittarius placement will be a benevolent force in your life. I'm also hearing something about the house sagitarius is in your natal chart too, it could be an area of luck

💖 Don't resist change, simply embrace it and remember that it is happening for you to achieve your greatest outcome

💖 Do things your own way, don't force yourself to fit into a label you don't resonate with. Also, doing things different doesnt mean being making them wrong, you are on your own path

💖 Your guides really want you to focus on your confidence and inner power because you have more than you what to acknowledge. Lions and elephants are your animals, 777 your sign that your manifestations are becoming real and you'll see rainbows as a sign of joy and love

[perlelune]

Lucky | Rafe Cameron

For years, you had a crush on your best friend, one he never returned. You thought he'd be happy to see you move on. You couldn't be more wrong.

Warnings: NON-CON, Kook!Reader, Jealousy, Angst, Pining, Toxicity

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your lips curl skyward as you scroll through your phone. As you read every message it’s hard to refrain from kicking your feet and giggling as if you were back in middle school. It’s how he makes you feel. Giddy. Wanted. It’s your first time experiencing such feelings and you’ve been perched on a fluffy cloud all afternoon. 

But remembering you aren’t alone, you try your best to keep a straight face. You’re in a bikini bottom and an oversized shirt by the Camerons’ pool. It’s a bright, sunny day, not a cloud in sight in the sky above Tannyhill.

The unforgiving, North Carolina heat has already melted the ice cubes in your drink. If it weren’t for the generous amounts of sunscreen you've applied earlier, you’d already be sunburnt from hours spent outside.

Rafe lifts his sunglasses from the edge of the pool, curiosity dancing in his blue eyes.

“You’ve been glued to your phone all afternoon, princess.”

You suppress your smile. Feigning nonchalance, you flip your phone down for good measure. 

“I have not.”

“Have too,” he counters, in the exact same way he used to utter those words when you argued back and forth as kids.

He hauls himself out of the pool. You’re graced with the sight of Rafe stepping out of the water, droplets glistening over his broad, toned chest, defined abs and thick, bulging arms. He’s been going especially hard at the gym since summer began. It shows. Your best friend now looks like a breathing, walking Abercrombie ad. You wouldn’t be surprised if the brand gave him a call soon. Not that you’d tell him that. No need to blow up Rafe Cameron’s over-inflated ego even more. 

As you watch him run his fingers through his drenched blonde locks, his golden ring glinting under the sunlight, pride flutters through you. Once upon a time, the sight of Rafe Cameron in nothing but his swim trunks would have had your heart racing and your entire body flush with shameful heat at how unbelievably attractive you found your best friend. 

That was before. When you still clung to the crush you harbored for him for years.

You and Rafe have basically known each other your whole lives.

Since kindergarten specifically.

Back then, you were heavily bullied...and Rafe was the worst of them. He would tug your hair, pull your chair out before you could sit so you’d crash on the floor and call you mean names while other children cheered him on. It only stopped when you had a crying fit in front of him one day. The five year old was stumped. He spent the rest of the year apologizing and bringing a variety of gifts to you. You forgot about the mean things he did and said easily, won over by his determination to make you forgive him. A peculiar friendship blossomed from that. The two of you have been inseparable since then. 

Years flew by.

Then one day Rafe came back to school walking and talking differently. He had filled out during summer break. He was broader, taller, his towering frame even allowing him to reach above your locker. All the girls noticed, including you. You started developing a little crush on him. One he never acknowledged.

He had a girl on his arm at every party, often disappearing with them upstairs. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was up to with those girls. For many years, you daydreamed about what it’d be like to be one of those girls. The girl that caught Rafe Cameron’s eye at a party. The one that would have his full, undivided attention. The one he’d flash a flirtatious grin at and undress with his gaze the entire night.

You wanted to be that girl more than you wanted to breathe.

He never treated you that way though. The two of you hung out all the time. You would play video games, smoke weed, drink the expensive Kentucky Bourbon he stole from his dad’s cabinet and talk about everything and nothing. 

He would always joke that you were like a sister to him. And based on the amount of time you spent at the Camerons house, you might as well be a long lost relative.

Getting over Rafe Cameron had been tantamount to an exorcism. Loving him was so embedded into your flesh, tattooed onto your soul. It was all you knew. Rafe, Rafe, Rafe…

He was everything you longed for. Until he wasn’t. 

It happened one year when you attended the Camerons’ new year’s eve party. You entered the living room and caught him making out with a gorgeous brunette on the balcony. As your heart broke, again, realization slipped through the crack. Pining for someone who doesn’t see you, never saw you, will lead you nowhere. Your suffering was of your own making…and you wanted to suffer no longer. Why fantasize about something that will never come? You’d rather look to the future. 

So you chose to move on.

As fireworks set the night sky above Tannyhill aflame, the last embers of your longing for Rafe Cameron flickered out. 

It’s how you wound up giving dating apps a try. Talking to guys in real life is nerve-wracking but online, you find it much easier. While most conversations you had fizzled out quickly… Garrett has been different. He’s never tried to pretend with you and has been nothing but sweet and inquisitive about your hobbies, hopes and dreams. You’ve talked to him for hours on the phone and he’s made you laugh and smile a countless number of times. As for the icing on the cake…He’s been clear about wanting more than a hookup. He even suggested the two of you should meet up in person soon.

“What got you smiling like that anyway?” Rafe says, tossing the towel around his neck.

“Nothing,” you reply with a shrug.

“If it’s nothing, you can show me.”

He tries to swipe your phone but you’re faster. You rise from your chair and pick it up before he can take it.

His eyes narrow.

“I thought we had no secret for each other,” he says, an accusation laced in his tone. He’s never liked you keeping things from him, no matter how small or insignificant.

“We don’t.”

He gives a slow nod. Then he smiles. And you suppose it should have been your warning, that you should have seen it coming. But you don’t see anything coming. His hand shoots out and he shoves you aside. 

He plucks your phone from you like it’s nothing, using his height to keep it out of reach.

“Rafe! Give me my phone back,” you urge.

He makes no effort to abide by your request, glowering at the screen while scrolling.

“Who the hell is Garrett?”

“J-Just a guy I started talking to on this app...” Your voice dwindles as you cower under Rafe's hard gaze.

Disgust scrunches his handsome face.

“I thought you deleted those dating apps. We talked about this.”

You did talk about it. After a dispiriting streak of bad luck on these apps, he wheedled you to delete all of them. Rafe said all the guys on these apps wanted was to use you for a quick, meaningless fuck. That you were too gullible and would just be taken advantage of. He said that you deserved better and the right guy would come along eventually. You found yourself believing him. A lot of time, you ended up ghosted or the guys failed to show up anyways. It made you question what is so repulsive about you that made guys steer clear.

“I wanted to try again.”

“Well Garrett’s a douchebag name. I don’t like him for you.” He snickers. “Look at that. He’s playing you and his game isn’t even good. You’re really falling for this corny shit, princess?”

He starts reading some of the compliments Garrett paid you aloud, drawing a round of guffaws from Kelce and Topper. 

Your cheeks come ablaze.

“Now you’re just being mean,” you lament, using a lapse of distraction to retrieve your phone.

Gulping the tears threatening to spill, you rush back inside. Kelce’s taunting voice echoes behind you.

“Guess that one got past you, huh, Rafe?” 

“Shut your mouth, bro,” Rafe snaps angrily. 

You lean on the counter and gather your breath. The tears subside. You remind yourself that this is just how Rafe can be. Callous. Inconsiderate. 

It’s not who he really is. 

It’s just a bit hard to recall when he has those moments. Those aggressively insensitive moments. 

You open the fridge and grab a cool drink. Your throat is parched and you could use one.

When you pivot, you nearly spill the can.

Rafe’s towering frame impedes your path.

“You scared me, Rafe,” you say, unleashing a tremulous exhale.

He studies you, concern glimmering in his ocean gaze.

“I wasn’t trying to make you cry, I swear.” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “I just meant he sounds like an asshole.”

“You’re an asshole,” you say, bumping into his arm as you sidle past him. 

His brows draw together. He isn’t used to you addressing him that way. With anything other than sweetness dripping from your tongue. 

You can tell he’s reeling at that alone. Getting the tiniest taste of his own medicine…from you of all people.

He approaches you as you swallow a sip of your drink. 

“Ouch. I’m just looking out for you, princess.” His fingers slot beneath your chin. “You know that’s all I ever try to do, right?”

He flashes you a charming smile. That smile you could never resist. It used to be your Achilles’ heel. Despite your changing feelings, Rafe still possesses the uncanny ability to make you forget why you were even mad at him in the first place. Like right now.

Your shoulders sag.

“I know.”

Blue eyes dive into yours. 

“I want to meet him.”

You retreat, your brows knitting. 

“Meet him, why?”

“I want to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

“I can decide that myself.”

He snorts, his focus darting away before returning to you.

“You’ve never known what’s good for you.” You flinch. “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell me you were talking to someone. I tell you everything. Shit, guess I’m an idiot, huh?” His jaw clenches. “...Cause I thought you did too.”

You inch closer to him and wrap your fingers around his forearm. 

“Rafe, I’m sorry, okay.” You gnaw on your bottom lip. “It’s just that…”

“Just that what?”

You pause, mulling over how to best word what you mean to say. 

Your voice comes out a bashful whisper, your eyes clinging to the floor. 

“Every time I’ve told you I liked a guy, it’s never worked out for some reason. It’s probably my fault but…I just didn’t want to jinx it this time.” You nervously swing your gaze back to him. “I figured if I keep it to myself I don’t have to get my hopes up.” You can’t quell the smile that fights its way onto your lips. “Garrett and I are just seeing where it goes right now. So…things are good.”

“Oh, it’s Garrett and I, now?” he sneers.

“Rafe, don’t be like this,” you beseech, squeezing his arm. “You’ll always be my best friend; you know that.” You shift in your spot, your tone pitching with hope as you ask, “Can’t you just be happy for me?”

He stares at you a long time, so long that his eyes on you grow unnerving. After a while, he releases a deep exhale. 

Ignoring your question, he steps back from you.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announces. 

“Rafe?”

You never get a response, his form vanishing down the hallway. A sigh ripples through your lips as you lean against the counter. Why is he being so difficult about this? It’s not like you’re not seeing him with a new girl every other week. You never batted an eyelash. You even encouraged him to seriously date some of them, the ones who seemed to sincerely like him and reminded you of yourself back in the day. 

You’ve always cheered him on no matter what. So it baffles you that he can’t return the favor. Crushes you even.

For the rest of the week, you don’t hear much from Rafe. He pretty much ignores you and even leaves you on read after you send him a string of pleading messages, which is your cue that you wounded his feelings somehow. You surmise Rafe isn’t used to your attention veering towards someone else. Perhaps he’s miffed at the prospect that getting a boyfriend means you won’t hang out as much anymore, that he’ll have to share you. Your friendship’s been a fixture in both of your lives for so many years. The one unwavering, steadfast foundation nothing could topple. Whatever occured in his life or yours, you’ve always had each other.

Change can be scary. 

But you don’t plan on neglecting the bond you have with Rafe just because you’re dating someone. He’ll always be in your life. He’ll always matter to you. It's what you meant to tell him. What you would tell him if only he bothered replying to your texts or answering your calls. 

Rafe has always teased you for bartending at the Island Club. In his eyes, you’re much too Kook for what he calls a ‘Pogue job’. But you enjoy it. There is a certain comfort in having things you earned through your own hard work and not your parents’ money.

…Though you can’t deny you might not have landed this position if not for your dad’s close friendship with the owner of the private club. You’re also painfully aware you don’t get yelled at or scolded for making mistakes as much as other employees. 

And on days like today, after you end your shift, Rafe has never failed to pick you up in his Jeep. 

He’s never missed a day. Which is why you wear a dumbfounded expression as you note the glaring absence of the familiar black car in front of the country club. It takes you a while to accept and realize the cold, hard truth. Rafe isn’t coming to pick you up today. 

It’s not the end of the world, of course. But it still makes your heart ache that he’d ditch like that without so much as an apology or heads-up. You feel kicked in the gut. 

You try to call him but it goes straight to voicemail. Resigned, you resort to calling for back-up. 

Sarah shows up in her truck with a bright smile. 

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping,” she quips, winking at you.

You climb inside the passenger seat. 

“Thanks for coming, S.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Since the oldest of the Camerons is currently denying your very existence, you figured you might as well call the Kook Princess herself to the rescue. His sister, Sarah Cameron. 

“I brought snacks so I better get a five-star review,” she jests, wiggling her eyebrows. She tosses you a bag of M&M’s that you gleefully tear open. “Doesn’t Rafe usually pick you up after work?”

The sugar melting on your tongue sweetens the bitter taste of abandonment.

“Well, he’s sulking, so…” you mumble around a mouthful of candy.

“Sulking?” Shock colors her tone. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make my brother mad. You’re like the only person he’s not a complete jerk around.”

“Well, he was one last time we talked.”

Sarah arches a puzzled brow.

You sigh and explain, “I started dating someone…Actually, we’re still at the talking stage, but…I didn’t tell him.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” she dismisses cryptically.

Her peculiar tone peeves you.

“I’m not gonna forget, Sarah.”

Her shoulders rise and fall.

“It’s not my place to say. It’s between you and Rafe.” She throws you a cautious glance, marking a brief pause before inquiring, “You’re not still in love with my brother, are you?”

Heat creeps inside your cheeks.

“I was n-never in love with Rafe,” you stammer. Inwards, you’re screaming. Was it that obvious at the time?

Sarah’s plump lips quirk in a lopsided smile.

“Sure.” 

Gratitude fills you. You’d rather leave this can of worms permanently closed. Lid tightly sealed and all. And the can tossed at the bottom of a lake. It’s embarrassing enough that you mooned over Rafe for as long as you did.

At least you find comfort in the fact that you’re over him now.

“You mind if we stop for ice cream on the way?” Sarah asks, adjusting her rearview mirror.

“No. I could go for one myself. This heat is killing me.”

“Cool.”

For the rest of the week, Rafe continues to dole out the silent treatment. You allow his childish antics to chafe you to a point. Then you elect to not let it bother you anymore. He can throw a tantrum if he wishes. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re growing weary of being treated like you have. 

For over fifteen years, you’ve been a great friend to Rafe, listening to him rant whenever he needed an ear, making time for him whenever he requested it. The fact he’s being a dick right now is staggering. 

He frankly has no right.

After everything the two of you have been through, you hoped for more from him. While you’re aware he can be a jackass, you thought it was different when it came to you. That you were different. You suppose you were wrong. 

Friday comes around and with it arrives the excitement of the plans you have for the night. Garrett asked you out on a date at a fancy seafood restaurant. It’ll be your first time meeting him in person. You’ve been looking forward to it the entire week.

As you’re putting the final touches to your makeup in front of the vanity mirror, your phone flashes with a request for a facetime call. 

You swipe towards the green icon to accept the call. 

Rafe’s face fills your screen. 

“Hey, princess. I thought we could talk-”

“I’m kind of busy right now. Rain check tomorrow?” 

“Busy doing what?” He squints, seeming to register your attire. A brand new sundress you purchased with your tips from the Island Club. You paired it with wedge heels. You also switched your hairstyle to something more sophisticated for the night. “W-What the hell are you wearing? Where are you even going dressed like that?”

You heave out a deep sigh.

“Good night, Rafe.”

You tap the screen to end the call.

A rush of power floods your insides. You hung up on him. This is your first time doing that, hanging up on Rafe Cameron himself. 

Still, a sliver of guilt lingers alongside your pride. You quell it swiftly. You can’t be at his beck and call your entire life. Tonight’s about you. For once, you’d like to put your needs before Rafe’s.

Garrett comes to your house some time later. He has flowers in his arms. You soak in their scent for a few minutes. No one’s ever given you flowers before. It makes you feel special.

As he opens the door of his truck for you, he whistles in admiration.

“Wow,” he says, his gaze dragging over your frame.

Your skin warms at the attention, the kind you aren’t used to receiving. 

Fiddling with the flowy sleeve of your sundress, you inquire, “Am I what you expected?”

A besotted smile spreads on his lips.

“You’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Thank you.” 

You peer at him. His pictures don’t do him justice.

“You look very handsome. I like your shirt.”

His cheeks redden at your praise. 

You get inside his car. The two of you exchange casual chatter on the way to the restaurant. You’re amazed at how easy talking to him is. You’re a little shy but his clear interest in you helps you slowly climb out of your shell. 

Once you arrive at the restaurant, you’re escorted to your table. The light conversation resumes its flow, the two of you growing even more comfortable with each other. You like how intently he listens to you, even if his intense eye contact makes you wrestle the urge to look away. You nibble your lip as you peruse the menu. Mirth sways in Garett’s brown orbs when your stomach growls. You mumble an apology under your breath and he beams at you. You’ve been so anxious about the date for the whole day, you’ve forgotten to eat. 

A familiar voice erupts from behind you. 

“Well, look who it is. What a coincidence.”

You whirl, a gasp bursting from your throat.

“Rafe? What are you doing here?”

He stands besides you and Garrett’s table, his arm slung around a gorgeous redhead’s shoulders. It occurs to you haven’t seen him with that one before. Though you reckon Rafe rarely does repeat encounters. 

What shocks you more however is his very presence here. Of all places, Rafe and the girl he’s with could have been tonight, it has to be the exact same location of your first date with Garrett. 

What are the odds? 

However, you recall that with the assistance of the friend-finding app both you and Rafe have on your phones in case of emergencies, figuring out your whereabouts would be about the easiest thing.

Would Rafe go that far just because you wouldn’t yield to his whims one time? Would he truly be that selfish?

The shit-eating grin unfurling on his face answers all your questions.

“Well, I heard this was a good spot so I thought…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he waves his hand before the girl’s face, appearing to struggle remembering her name. 

“Jessica,” she finishes for him, disappointment decorating her pretty features.

He beams at her.

“Right. I thought that Jessica and I could check it out.”

He plops down next to you, forcing you to make space for him on the upholstered booth seat. Meanwhile his date sits next to Garrett. 

“You mind, princess?”

Awkwardness fills the air. The heavy tension sits on your throat as Rafe makes himself more comfortable, going as far as spreading his legs.

You scold him with your gaze, all but spelling out ‘Yes, I do mind indeed’.

You clear your throat and shift your stance, resenting how every tiny motion has your thigh grazing against his.

“Actually I…We’re kind of on a date, Rafe.”

He places his arm on the wooden edge above your head, his smile expanding.

“So are we. So why not double date?”

“I don’t mind,” Garrett offers as he takes in your concerned expression. “You two…know each other, right?”

You open your mouth to speak but before words can pour from it, Rafe wraps his arm around you.

“Best friends. She and I go way back. Isn’t that right, princess?”

His intense blue eyes settle on you. You swallow the lump in your throat. Anger can’t begin to describe how upset you are with Rafe right now for crashing your date, but you also don’t want to cause a scene, make things even worse than they already are. 

So you force a smile on your lips and nod.

“Y-Yeah, we do.”

Throughout the night, Rafe’s presence causes the date’s slow descent into a nightmare. Every time Garrett tries to strike up a conversation with you, Rafe interjects, his comments toeing the line between innocently inconsiderate and outright rude. He never lets the two of you have a moment, interrupting whenever Garrett looks at you for more than half a second. You grow weary of his antics. So does Rafe’s date. You can see the pretty redhead in front of him growing frustrated as he treats her as if she were a potted plant.

She ends up leaving the table to go to the bathroom but never returns. It doesn’t shock you. If someone inflicted upon you what Rafe has to the poor girl the entire night, you might take your leave as well.

By the time dessert comes, you’re on the cusp of tears. This is not how you envisioned your night going. 

The awfulness doesn’t stop there.

When it’s time to part ways, Garrett finds his truck in an unfortunate state. 

He curses under his breath as he hunkers down in front of his car. 

“Some punk sliced my tires.”

In the back, Rafe shakes his head.

“Damn, tough luck. Guess I’ll have to drive you home, princess.”

You scowl at Rafe before placing a hand on Garrett’s arm. He’s already on his phone to contact someone to help move his truck.

“I could wait with you,” you say softly. 

“It’s fine,” he replies. “Just go home. We’ll text, okay?”

Your tone turns contrite. “Okay. I’m so sorry… about everything.”

“Don’t worry about it. I still had a good time.”

“Me too.”

Despite his assurance, you aren’t too hopeful he’ll want to see you again. You know this wasn’t what he had in mind for the night. And neither did you. 

You reluctantly trail behind Rafe, looking daggers at him when he opens the door of his black Volvo for you. 

Not an ounce of guilt lurks on his handsome face, which tosses more fuel on the flames of your ire. 

You don’t utter a word, almost too angry to speak. The last shred of your patience fizzled out in the restaurant, as your so-called best friend basked in your misery, getting a kick out of making a mockery of your night.

If you talk, it won’t be to have a calm, level-headed conversation with Rafe. It’ll be to spew venom at him.

As he parks into the driveway of your house, he lets go of the steering wheel and says, “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

You draw a long, slow breath.

“You think?” you snap icily. You jump out of the truck and slam the door closed.

Rafe follows you to your doorstep. You fumble with the lock. Your fingers quiver so much, you can’t even open the door. After a few unsuccessful tries jamming the keys inside the lock, Rafe takes them from you. He opens the door and you stomp inside. 

You toss your clutch on a nearby table and whirl. 

“What the hell, Rafe?” you shout. “You embarrassed me!”

His shoulders lift and slump.

“Well, you shouldn’t have been there to begin with.”

Disbelief rounds your gaze. “What?”

“You heard me. You shouldn’t have been on a date with him.”

Folding your arms, you scoff, “Right. Why is that?”

Rafe inches closer to you, his eyes locking with yours.

“Because you should have been on a date with me instead.”

A weary exhale drops from your chest. Rafe’s declared many things while hammered but this one takes the cake.

“I think you’re drunk,” you dismiss. “You need to go home, Rafe.”

Rafe’s jaw ticks.

“My mind is perfectly clear, okay? If you’ll just listen to me-”

“Go home, Rafe.”

You nearly turn your back on him but Rafe’s sturdy hand fastens around your arm, yanking you back.

He takes a long pause, drinking you in.

Rafe takes a deep breath before confessing, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His throat bobs as he adds, “And I know you love me too.”

Your mouth tumbles open, shock snatching the very air from your lungs. You stare at Rafe. Perhaps you heard him wrong. In your wrath, his words may have landed in your ears a little warped.

But as you get lost in his sea gaze, the truth sinks into you. He is serious. Very serious.

A war of conflicting emotions breaks out inside you. For years, you longed to hear those words. But not like this. And the insinuation that he knew how you felt…That he let you suffer in silence while gallivanting around with those girls.

A fast surge of tears blurs your gaze.

“You knew?”

He cradles your face.

“I’ve always known.”

A shudder wracks through your frame.

“So w-why did you never say anything?”

“I figured you’d wait for me, that I could just have some fun. That it wasn’t a big deal.”

Ice fills your blood. Your tone becomes clipped, detached.

“I want you to leave.”

His hold on you doesn’t loosen, his cheek pulsing in frustration.

“Really? I tell you I love you after all this time and this is your response?”

“I haven’t had those feelings for you in years, Rafe. And right now…I don’t even like you as a person.” Rafe bristles at your blunt words, looking like you slapped him. Your mouth wobbles as you say, “You’re not who I thought you were. I want you out of my house and out of my life.”

Something shifts in his blue eyes. The air around you drops a few degrees as he pushes you further inside the room. Desperation lurks in his deep timbre.

“Come on, we can talk about this, princess.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Dread escalates within you when he doesn’t move. You’re hit with the daunting realization that you’re alone with Rafe, your parents away on a trip right now. Usually being alone with him wouldn’t have fazed you, may have ensconced you in a sense of security and comfort even. Not tonight. Tonight, you don’t recognize the Rafe standing in front of you. Your voice trickles out small and shaky. “R-Rafe, get out, I’m serious.”

His expression hardens. He shoves you into a nearby wall. You gasp as pain prickles along your back.

“Just admit that you love me too,” he roars. 

“I don’t,” you whimper as water brims under your lashes.

This propels him to the brink. There’s no time to process anything, Rafe hoisting you with ease. As he takes long, determined strides to your bedroom, your fear grows. He hurls your body into the bed. He fiddles with the buttons of his khaki pants until they come loose. A scream builds inside your throat, refusing to break past your lips as you linger in bewilderment. Rafe isn’t doing what you think he’s doing…what he’s preparing to do. There's no way. He wouldn’t.

Stupor girdles your motions. For a while, you gape at Rafe. As he approaches the bed, adrenaline rushes through you. You remember how to move.

But it’s for naught. Rafe is quicker than you, catching you when you rise and slamming you back on the sheets. He crawls over you. His blue gaze glimmers strangely in the darkness. Streaks of moonlight pour between your half-draw curtains, casting ominous shadows over his broad frame.

He cages you beneath him, shushing you as you croak out pleas for him to stop.

“I know you’re lying,” he rasps, scattering sloppy kisses alongside your neck.

He yanks down your dress and your breath hitches. 

“I’m not. I don’t-” Words wither on your tongue as he flicks his thumb over your nipple, his other hand patting underneath your dress. “I-I don’t love you anymore, Rafe.”

“I don’t believe you.”

His fist curls around the vee part of your thin lace panties, tugging roughly enough to tear the delicate material. You squeal as the lace dents your flesh when it rips.

Your heart bounces. You push against Rafe’s chest with newfound urgency.

“Rafe, stop.”

He snatches both of your wrists and traps them above your head. Helplessness chokes your airways as he pokes lightly at your entrance. He slides one finger between your walls and you keen, breath faltering at the abrupt intrusion. His lewd gaze remains trained on you as you squirm beneath him.

“Why do you keep lying, huh?” he accuses, forcing a moan from your throat when he curls his digit inside you. When your eyes squeeze shut in denial, he lets go of your wrist to frame your jaw.

A sob spills from your throat, your eyes flying open.

“Nah…I want you to look at me, princess,” he orders, jerking your head up so your gazes lock. You choke on your breath when he shoves a second finger inside you. He slowly drags his fingers in and out of you. Heat gathers in your core. You writhe against the sheets, resisting the urge to buck your hips to seek more of the friction. He grazes a uniquely sensitive spot and your lids quake, a soft whimper flying from your mouth. You clench around Rafe’s fingers and he unleashes a sigh of pleasure as you grip him. You feel him harden against you. Your stomach knots at the pressure. His eyes are glued to you, soaking every minute shift of expression while he pumps his fingers inside you. 

“I know you never stopped loving me,” he whispers, the alcohol on his breath seeping through your senses. “Think I don’t see the way you look at me?”

As you near your undoing, he removes his fingers. You sag against the sheets. The sudden emptiness leaves you with a mix of emotions you’re too ashamed to admit.

He presses his thick tip against your dripping entrance, gathering your arousal when he runs it along your folds. He pushes in slowly, his eyes rolling back at the sensation of your velvety warmth welcoming him. You tense at the intrusion. Your fingers curl into the sheets. Rafe’s broad frame covers yours, his forehead resting against yours as he whispers, “Say you love me.”

When you don’t reply, he slams his cock inside you in one swift stroke. Your back curves, a quiet scream ripping from your throat. Your chest lifts and falls rapidly as Rafe’s thick girth fills you up completely. 

He begins moving inside you, his pace relentless and unforgiving. While his length is splitting you apart, it’s hard to deny the warm tingles pulsing through your core, joining the pain in devious harmony. 

You go limp on the bed, his thick cock stretching you more than ever before. Every time he grazes your sweet spots, you spiral further down, your thoughts melting in the flames consuming your body.

“Say it,” he grunts, his warm breath fanning over your face. 

His bulging muscles coil beneath his clothes from the force he exerts to shove all of himself inside you. Heavy breaths drop from Rafe’s chest as your walls squeeze around him. Drenched locks of his dirty blond hair cling to his forehead, beads of sweat collecting between his furrowed brows and dripping to your parted lips. 

When you remain silent, Rafe’s large hand wraps around your throat, his tone more firm and menacing than before as he snarls, “Say that you love me, princess.”

His fingers crush your windpipe until you give in.

You can barely eke the words out, every harsh snap of Rafe’s hips into yours filling your vision with stars.

“I l-love you, Rafe.” 

The words ache as they part from your throat. A bitter truth you buried long ago, beneath thick layers of heartbreak and denial. One you hoped would never crawl its way back to the surface. One that hurts even more now, shatters you as it leaves your lips. Because you can’t tell if Rafe forced it out of you or if it was there all along. Perhaps it never left you. Perhaps, even after all your attempts to purge Rafe Cameron from your flesh and soul, even after he’s done the unthinkable to you…Part of you may still love Rafe, may always love Rafe.

As you grow overwhelmed with warring emotions, his cock still viciously ramming into you, you don’t know who you hate more. Him. Or yourself.

Salty streams spill down your cheeks. 

Rafe kisses them away, gently cupping your cheek while thrusting roughly into your cunt. His other hand explores your curves, clutching your flesh possessively. You can already feel bruises forming beneath his rough, insatiable touch. His eyes find yours, a possessive glint swaying in his intense blue gaze.

“Of course you do.” His lips stretch in a smug smile. “You’ve always been mine, princess, you just didn’t know it yet.”

[just-ornstein]

[JK]  My first job was as an Assistant Producer for a video game company called Interplay in Irvine, CA. I had recently graduated from Boston University's School of Fine Arts with an MFA in Directing (I started out as a theatre nerd), but also had some limited coding experience and a passion for computers. It didn't look like I'd be able to make a living directing plays, so I decided to combine entertainment and technology (before it was cool!) and pitched myself to Brian Fargo, Interplay's CEO. He gave me my first break. I packed up and moved out west, and I've been producing games ever since.

[JK] I loved my time at EA. I was there for almost a full decade, and learned a tremendous amount about game-making, and met the most talented and driven people, who I remain in touch with today. EA gave me many opportunities, and never stopped betting on me. I worked on The Sims for nearly 5 years, and then afterwards, I worked on console action games as part of the Visceral studio. I was the Creative Director for the 2007 game "The Simpsons", and was the Executive Producer and Creative Director for the 2009 game "Dante's Inferno".

[JK] I haven't played in a long while, but I do recall that after the game shipped, my wife and I played the retail version for some time -- we created ourselves, and experimented with having a baby ahead of the actual birth of our son (in 2007). Even though I'd been part of the development team, and understood deeply how the simulation worked, I was still continually surprised at how "real" our Sims felt, and how accurate their responses were to having a baby in the house. It really felt like "us"!

Now for some of the development and lore related questions:

[JK] So I ended up in the incredibly fortunate position of creating the shipping neighborhoods for The Sims 2, and recruiting a few teammates to help me as we went along. 

Around the same time, we started using the Buy/Build tools to make houses we could save, and also bring them into each new build of the game (correcting for any bugs and incompatibilities). With the import tool, we could load Sims into these houses. In time, this "vanguard QA" process turned into a creative endeavor to define the "saved state" of the neighborhoods we would actually end up shipping with the game.

On playtesting & the leftover sims data on various lots:

Basically, we were in the late stages of development, and the Save Game functionality wasn't quite working. In order to test the game properly, you really needed to have a lot of assets, and a lot of Sims with histories (as if you'd been playing them for weeks) to test out everything the game had to offer. So I started defining a set of characters in a spreadsheet, with all their tuning variables, and worked with engineering to create an importer, so that with each new build, I could essentially "load" a kind of massive saved game, and quickly start playing and testing. 

It was fairly organic, and as the game's functionality improved, so did our starter houses and families. 

The thought process behind the creation of the iconic three neighborhoods:

I would not say it was particularly planned out ahead of time. We knew we needed a few saved houses to ship with the game; Sims 1, after all, had the Goth house, and Bob Newbie's house. But there wasn't necessarily a clear direction for what the neighborhood would be for Sims 2. We needed the game to be far enough along, so that the neighborhood could be a proper showcase for all the features in the game. With each new feature that turned alpha, I had a new tool in my toolbox, and I could expand the houses and families I was working on. Once we had the multi-neighborhood functionality, I decided we would not just have 1 starter neighborhood, but 3. With the Aging feature, Memories, a few wacky objects, plus a huge catalog of architectural and decorative content, I felt we had enough material for 3 truly distinct neighborhoods. And we added a couple of people to what became the "Neighborhood Team" around that time.

Later, when we created Strangetown, and eventually Veronaville, I believe we went back and changed Pleasantville to Pleasantview... because I liked the alliteration of "Verona-Ville", and there was no sense in having two "villes". (To this day, by the way, I still don't know whether to capitalize the "V" -- this was hotly debated at the time!)

Pleasantview:

Anyway, to answer your question, we of course started with Pleasantview. As I recall, we were not quite committed to multiple neighborhoods at first, and I think it was called Pleasantville initially, which was kind of a nod to Simsville... but without calling it Simsville, which was a little too on the nose. (There had also been an ill-fated game in development at Maxis at the time, called SimsVille, which was cancelled.) It's been suggested that Pleasantville referred to the movie, but I don't think I ever saw that movie, and we just felt that Pleasantville kind of captured the feeling of the game, and the relaxing, simple, idyllic world of the Sims.

Pleasantview started as a place to capture the aging feature, which was all new to The Sims 2. We knew we had toddlers, teens, and elders to play with, so we started making families that reflected the various stages of family life: the single mom with 3 young kids, the parents with two teens, the old rich guy with two young gold-diggers, etc. We also had a much greater variety of ethnicity to play with than Sims 1, and we had all new variables like sexual orientation and memories. All these things made for rich fodder for a great diversity of families. Then, once we had family trees, and tombstones that carried the actual data for the dead Sims, the doors really blew open. We started asking ourselves, "What if Bella and Mortimer Goth could be characters in Sims 2, but aged 25 years? And what if Cassandra is grown up? And what if Bella is actually missing, and that could be a fun mystery hanging over the whole game?" And then finally the "Big Life Moments" went into the game -- like weddings and birthdays -- and we could sort of tee these up in the Save Game, so that they would happen within the first few minutes of playing the families. This served both as a tutorial for the features, but also a great story-telling device.

Anyway, it all just flowed from there, as we started creating connections between families, relationships, histories, family trees, and stories that we could weave into the game, using only the simulation features that were available to us. It was a really fun and creative time, and we wrote all of the lore of Sims 2 within a couple of months, and then just brought it to life in the game.

Strangetown:

Strangetown was kind of a no-brainer. We needed an alternate neighborhood for all the paranormal stuff the Sims was known for: alien abduction, male pregnancy, science experiments, ghosts, etc. We had the desert terrain, which created a nice contrast to the lush Pleasantville, and gave it an obvious Area 51 vibe.

The fact that Veronaville is the oldest file probably reflects the fact that it was finished first, not that it was started first. That's my guess anyway. It was the simplest neighborhood, in many ways, and didn't have as much complexity in terms of features like staged big life moments, getting the abduction timing right, the alien DNA thing (which I think was somewhat buggy up until the end), etc.  So it's possible that we simply had Veronaville "in the can", while we put the last polish on Pleasantville (which was the first and most important neighborhood, in terms of making a good impression) and Strangeville (which was tricky technically).

Veronaville:

But my personal favorite was Veronaville. We had this cool Tudor style collection in the Build mode catalog, and I wanted to ship some houses that showed off those assets. We also had the teen thing going on in the aging game, plus a lot of romance features, as well as enemies. I have always been a Shakespeare buff since graduate school, so putting all that together, I got the idea that our third neighborhood should be a modern-day telling of the Romeo and Juliet story. It was Montys and Capps (instead of Montagues and Capulets), and it just kind of wrote itself. We had fun creating the past family trees, where everyone had died young because they kept killing each other off in the ongoing vendetta.

[JK] You know, I have never seen The Lone Gunmen, and I don't remember making any kind of direct references with the Strangetown Sims, other than the general Area 51 theme, as you point out. Charles London helped out a lot with naming Sims, and I'm pretty sure we owe "Vidcund" and "Lazlo" to him ... though many team members pitched in creatively. He may have had something in mind, but for me, I largely went off of very generic and stereotypical ideas when crafting these neighborhoods. I kind of wanted them to be almost "groaners" ... they were meant to be tropes in every sense of the word. And then we snuck in some easter eggs. But largely, we were trying to create a completely original lore.

[JK] Well, I think we kind of pushed it with The Sims 2, to be honest, and I remember getting a little blow-back about Bunny Broke, for example. Bunny Broke was the original name for Brandi Broke. Not everyone found that funny, as I recall, and I can understand that. It must have been changed before we shipped.

We also almost shipped the first outwardly gay Sims in those neighborhoods, which was bold for EA back in 2004. My recollection was that we had set up the Dreamers to be gay (Dirk and Darren), but I'm looking back now and see that's not the case. So I'm either remembering incorrectly (probably) or something changed during development.

In general we just did things that we found funny and clever, and we just pulled from all the tropes of American life.

[JK] The alien abduction started in Sims 1, with a telescope object that was introduced in the "Livin' Large" expansion pack. That's when some of the wackier ideas got introduced into the Sims lore. That pack shipped just before I joined Maxis in 2001; when I got there, the team had shipped "House Party" and was underway on "Hot Date". So I couldn't tell you how the original idea came about, but The Sims had this 50's Americana vibe from the beginning, and UFOs kind of played right into that. So the alien abduction telescope was a no-brainer to bring back in Sims 2. The male pregnancy was a new twist on the Sims 1 telescope thing. It must have been that the new version (Sims 2) gave us the tech and flexibility to have male Sims become pregnant, so while this was turned "off" for the core game, we decided to take advantage of this and make a storyline out of it. I think this really grew out of the fact that we had aliens, and alien DNA, and so it was not complicated to pre-bake a baby that would come out as an alien when born. The idea of a bunch of guys living together, and then one gets abducted, impregnated, and then gives birth to an alien baby ... I mean, I think we just all thought that was hilarious, in a sit-com kind of way. Not sure there was much more to it than that. Everything usually came from the designers discovering ways to tweak and play with the tech, to get to funny outcomes.

[JK] Possibly we were just testing the functionality of the Wants/Fears and Memories systems throughout development, and some stuff got left over.

[JK] I can't remember, but that sounds like something we would have done! I'm pretty sure we laid the groundwork for more stories that we ended up delivering :) But The Sims 2 was a great foundation for a lot of continued lore that followed.

--

I once again want to thank Jonathan Knight for granting me this opportunity and taking the time from his busy schedule to answer my questions.

[bratzkoo]

blueprint of us | minghao

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: rich af! minghao x architect! reader Genre: fluff Rating: PG-15 Word count: 14k~ Warnings/note: enemies to lovers minghao kinda that i've been thinking about for weeks! i need this.

summary: you really thought minghao is just your usual old money prioritizing getting richer over the environment, not with his background and whatever he does, well, until you didn’t.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): -​

requests are close, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Y/N straightened her blazer, mentally rehearsing counter-arguments to every possible criticism as she strode into the Seoul Metropolitan Government conference room. At twenty-eight, she'd earned her reputation as one of the city's most uncompromising sustainable architects through sheer determination and technical brilliance. The Hangang Riverfront Revitalization Project was exactly the kind of high-profile commission her firm needed—and she wasn't about to let anyone derail her vision of creating the most environmentally innovative public space in Asia.

She scanned the room, noting the familiar faces of committee members and developers, before her gaze locked onto an unfamiliar figure. Xu Minghao of XM Development stood near the windows, examining the site maps with intense focus. She'd never met him personally, but his reputation preceded him—artistic, enigmatic, and ruthlessly effective at getting his designs approved. His buildings were architectural marvels that graced magazine covers and won international awards while consuming unconscionable amounts of energy with their glass facades and dramatic lighting.

As if sensing her scrutiny, Minghao looked up. Their eyes met across the room in a moment of instant recognition—not of each other personally, but of what each represented. A subtle tension charged the air between them.

Joshua Hong, the city's cultural development officer, approached with his characteristic diplomatic smile. "Y/N! I see you've noticed Minghao. Let me introduce you properly before presentations begin."

She followed Joshua, maintaining perfect professional composure as they approached Minghao, who straightened to his full height, his expression coolly appraising.

"Xu Minghao, this is Y/N, principal architect at Green Path Architecture. Y/N, Minghao is the creative director at XM Development."

"Your Dongdaemun Plaza extension was featured in Architectural Review last month," Y/N said, extending her hand. It wasn't a compliment—merely an acknowledgment of fact—but she could acknowledge quality work even from the opposition.

Minghao's handshake was firm, his gaze direct. "And your critique of it in Sustainable Design Quarterly was quite... thorough." There was a hint of something in his voice—not quite anger, more like curiosity.

Y/N didn't flinch. "I stand by every word."

"I would expect nothing less." A ghost of a smile touched his lips, surprising her. "It was one of the more intelligent critiques I've read. Most critics don't understand the structural constraints we were working with."

Before Y/N could respond to this unexpected comment, they were called to take their seats.

Throughout her presentation, Y/N was acutely aware of Minghao's attention. Unlike other developers who checked phones or whispered to colleagues during technical explanations, he observed with complete focus, occasionally making notes. His scrutiny was unnerving—she found herself emphasizing certain points more forcefully, as if in direct challenge to his design philosophy.

When Minghao presented his concept, Y/N reluctantly found herself impressed by his eloquence and vision. Where her presentation had been data-driven and practical, his was almost poetic—speaking of architecture as cultural storytelling, of spaces that evolved with seasonal light, of connections between traditional Korean design principles and contemporary human needs.

"A truly sustainable space," he concluded, his voice quiet but carrying through the silent room, "must sustain not just environmental metrics, but the human soul. It must create memories, inspire creativity, and connect people to something larger than themselves."

It was beautiful rhetoric that conveniently sidestepped concrete sustainability commitments, Y/N thought critically. Yet she couldn't deny the power of his vision or the masterful renderings that accompanied it.

When the committee's decision came, delivered by Joshua, it landed like a thunderbolt.

"Both proposals contain essential elements the committee feels are necessary for this project's success. Rather than choosing between them, we're asking Y/N and Minghao to collaborate on a unified design—combining Green Path's environmental innovation with XM's cultural and aesthetic vision."

Y/N's expression remained professionally neutral while her mind raced through implications. A collaboration? With him? Their approaches weren't just different—they were fundamentally opposed.

Across the room, she saw Minghao's composed mask slip momentarily, revealing a flash of the same dismay she felt. Their eyes met again, mutual wariness transformed into shared predicament.

After the meeting adjourned, Minghao approached her with measured steps. "It seems we have a situation," he said, his voice low.

"That's one way of putting it," Y/N replied evenly. "I have serious concerns about reconciling our approaches."

"As do I," he admitted, surprising her with his candor. "But the commission is significant. Perhaps we can establish ground rules to make this... functional."

They agreed to meet the following day at a neutral location to establish their working parameters, both clearly determined to protect their core principles while finding some way to fulfill the committee's requirements.

The café they chose was halfway between their respective offices—a small, quiet place with good lighting and minimal distractions. Y/N arrived ten minutes early, selecting a corner table and arranging her materials precisely. Minghao arrived exactly on time, dressed in simple black that somehow looked both casual and impeccable.

"I reviewed your full proposal last night," he said without preamble as he took the seat across from her. "Your technical solutions are innovative, but they fail to consider the aesthetic impact."

Y/N set down her coffee cup with deliberate care. "And I reviewed yours. Your spatial concepts are impressive but environmentally irresponsible. Your projected energy consumption is triple what it should be for a public project of this scale."

"Those calculations don't account for the passive cooling systems integrated into the design."

"Even with those systems, the glass expanses you've proposed create unnecessary thermal management challenges."

They continued this technical sparring for nearly an hour, each demonstrating a surprisingly thorough understanding of the other's specialty. Y/N had expected Minghao to dismiss environmental concerns entirely but found instead that he comprehended them well—he simply prioritized differently. Similarly, Minghao seemed taken aback by her knowledge of architectural theory and cultural references.

"You've studied Korean traditional architecture," he noted when she referenced historical precedents for natural ventilation.

"You sound surprised."

"Most sustainability specialists I've worked with focus exclusively on contemporary technology."

"That would be shortsighted," Y/N replied. "Traditional builders solved climate challenges without modern energy sources. There's much to learn from them."

A thoughtful expression crossed Minghao's face. "On that, at least, we agree."

This small point of alignment felt like a minor breakthrough. They tentatively established a working schedule and division of responsibilities, each carefully guarding their core elements while identifying areas where compromise might be possible.

As they gathered their materials to leave, Minghao hesitated. "I should clarify something. I'm not opposed to sustainability. I simply believe it must include cultural and aesthetic sustainability alongside environmental concerns."

Y/N studied him, trying to determine if this was merely diplomatic posturing. "And I'm not opposed to beauty. I just believe it shouldn't come at the expense of future generations."

Minghao nodded once, accepting this. "Then perhaps this collaboration isn't impossible after all."

"I didn't say that," Y/N countered with hint of a challenging smile. "I said it wasn't entirely impossible."

Something flickered in Minghao's eyes—surprise, followed by what might have been respect. "Until tomorrow, then."

Their working relationship developed into a pattern of intense intellectual debate punctuated by rare moments of unexpected alignment. They established a temporary studio in a small gallery space Joshua arranged for them—neutral territory that became the battleground for their competing visions.

Each morning began civilly enough, reviewing progress and outlining objectives. By afternoon, they were invariably locked in philosophical combat over fundamental aspects of the design. Y/N found these debates simultaneously frustrating and stimulating—Minghao challenged her assumptions with perspectives she'd never considered, forcing her to articulate her values with greater precision.

"You speak of environmental responsibility as if it exists in isolation from human experience," Minghao argued during a particularly heated discussion. "But people protect what they love. Create a space they don't connect with emotionally, and it will be neglected or demolished within a generation, regardless of its ecological merits."

"And you speak of human experience as if it can be separated from environmental context," Y/N fired back. "The most beautiful space becomes meaningless if the air is unbreathable or the temperature unbearable. Ask the residents of coastal cities losing ground to rising sea levels how much they're enjoying the 'human experience' of architectural masterpieces that contributed to climate change."

Mingyu, Minghao's assistant, had learned to make himself scarce during these exchanges, quietly leaving coffee and returning hours later when the conceptual storm had passed.

What surprised Y/N most was not Minghao's stubborn defense of his vision—she'd expected that—but his work ethic. He matched her legendary stamina hour for hour, sometimes staying past midnight to perfect details or research technical questions that arose during their debates. One evening, she returned from a quick dinner break to find him surrounded by books on wetland ecosystems, cross-referencing her water management proposals against ecological studies.

"I wanted to understand the biological implications better," he explained simply, not looking up.

Another night, Minghao found Y/N studying the historical design references in his original concept. When he raised an eyebrow in question, she merely said, "If I'm going to argue against aspects of your design, I should at least understand its cultural context properly."

These moments of mutual professional respect existed alongside their fundamental disagreements, creating a complex working relationship neither had anticipated.

Three weeks into their collaboration, they reached an impasse over the central plaza. Y/N's design prioritized permeable surfaces and rainwater capture, while Minghao's emphasized traditional patterns and ceremonial pathways. Neither would yield, their respective heels dug in after days of circular arguments.

"This isn't productive," Minghao finally said, running a hand through his hair in a rare display of frustration. "We're approaching this from incompatible premises."

"Then we need to change the premises," Y/N replied, surprising herself with the suggestion. "We're still thinking of our designs as separate entities being forced together, not as a new integrated concept."

Minghao looked at her thoughtfully. "What are you suggesting?"

"Let's visit the site. Together. Not to argue our positions, but to observe. Maybe there's something we're both missing."

The next morning dawned clear and cool as they met at the riverfront. By unspoken agreement, they walked in silence, observing how light played across the water, how people naturally gathered in certain spaces, how the existing landscape created patterns of movement.

An hour passed before either spoke. They had stopped at a particular bend in the river, watching an elderly man feeding birds while a group of students sketched nearby.

"There's a rhythm to how people use this space," Minghao said quietly. "Different but harmonious patterns overlapping."

Y/N nodded. "And natural cycles intersecting with human ones. The tide, the seasonal plants, the daily movement of sun and shadow."

They spent the entire day at the site, gradually beginning to exchange observations, then ideas, their usual combative dynamic softened by the physical reality of the place itself. As sunset painted the river gold, Y/N found herself sketching alongside Minghao on a park bench, their shoulders occasionally brushing as they worked.

"What if," Minghao said suddenly, looking up from his drawing, "the water management systems became visible features that change with the seasons? Not hidden infrastructure, but celebrated elements that tell an environmental story while creating evolving beauty."

Y/N stared at him, momentarily speechless at how perfectly this bridged their divided approaches. "That... could actually work." She quickly sketched an adaptation of her technical systems that incorporated his aesthetic principles. "The filtration gardens could become these sculptural elements that transform with rainfall patterns."

"Yes," Minghao leaned closer to see her drawing, his usual reserve giving way to genuine enthusiasm. "And these ceremonial pathways I proposed—they could be constructed with your permeable materials, creating traditional patterns that also serve ecological functions."

They worked with growing excitement, building on each other's ideas in a creative flow unlike anything their previous combative approach had produced. When darkness finally forced them to pack up their materials, both were reluctant to break the productive spell.

Walking back toward the subway station, Y/N glanced at Minghao's profile, softened in the evening light.

"I still think you're wrong about the glass pavilions," she said, but there was no edge to her voice now.

"And I still think your maintenance projections are unrealistic," he replied with the ghost of a smile.

"But today was... not entirely unproductive."

"A diplomatic assessment," Minghao agreed. After a pause, he added more seriously, "You're not what I expected, Y/N."

"Oh? And what did you expect?"

"Someone less willing to consider alternative perspectives. Less... formidable in defending her vision."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "I could say the same about you. I expected a developer focused exclusively on aesthetics and profit, not someone who would spend hours researching ecosystem impacts."

They parted at the station with a new sense of possibility, though neither would admit how significantly their perception of the other had shifted. Y/N found herself thinking about Minghao's unexpected depth as she rode home—his quiet intensity, his surprising knowledge across disciplines, the rare moments when his composed exterior gave way to genuine passion for architecture.

It was professionally inconvenient, she decided, to discover that your philosophical opponent was actually worthy of respect. Even more inconvenient to realize you were beginning to look forward to the intellectual challenge he presented each day. Most inconvenient of all was catching herself wondering what else might lie beneath his carefully controlled surface—and why that possibility intrigued her more than she cared to admit.

-

The breakthrough at the riverfront changed something fundamental in Y/N and Minghao's working relationship. Though they still disagreed—often vehemently—about specific elements, a grudging respect had formed between them. Their temporary studio space gradually transformed, walls covered with evolving sketches that showed a slow but unmistakable merging of their distinct approaches.

Y/N arrived early one morning, a week after their site visit, to find Minghao already there. He sat with his back to the door, so absorbed in his work that he hadn't heard her enter. She paused, taking the rare opportunity to observe him unguarded. His movements were precise as he sketched, occasionally pausing to reference her technical specifications before continuing. The morning light caught the edges of his profile, and Y/N was struck by the intensity of his focus—the same quality she prided in herself.

"You've adapted the rainwater system," she said, finally announcing her presence.

Minghao turned, not startled but transitioning smoothly from solitary concentration to acknowledgment of her arrival. "I had some thoughts about integrating it more fully with the traditional elements."

Y/N set down her materials and moved closer to examine his work. The technical system she'd designed remained intact in its function but had been transformed visually into something that echoed historical Korean water features while remaining distinctly contemporary.

"This actually improves the water flow," she admitted, studying the modifications. "The aesthetic changes create a more efficient path for heavy rainfall."

"Form following function," Minghao said with the slight upturn of lips that passed for his smile. "Or perhaps function following form. Does it matter which comes first if the result serves both?"

Y/N gave him a measured look. "It matters in the process. But I'll concede the outcome is... promising."

They settled into work, the morning passing in focused collaboration punctuated by their usual debates—though the tone had shifted from combative to challenging, each pushing the other toward more refined solutions.

Around noon, the studio door opened to reveal Seungkwan from Y/N's firm, carrying several bags of takeout.

"Lunch delivery!" he announced with characteristic enthusiasm. "Y/N, the office is buzzing about your collaboration. Everyone's wondering if you've strangled the famous Xu Minghao yet or if he's converted you to the dark side of luxury development." He stopped abruptly, seeming to realize Minghao was present. "Oh! I mean—that is—good afternoon, Mr. Xu!"

Y/N suppressed a smile at Seungkwan's flustered backpedaling. "Minghao, this is Seungkwan from my PR department."

"We've met briefly," Minghao said with a gracious nod. "At the initial presentation."

"Right! Yes! I was very impressed with your cultural integration concepts," Seungkwan babbled, setting down the food and backing toward the door. "I'll just leave this here and let you both get back to your... creative tension. Or harmony! Whatever you're creating!"

After Seungkwan's hasty departure, Y/N shook her head. "Sorry about that. He's brilliant at public relations but subtle isn't in his vocabulary."

"He cares about you," Minghao observed, arranging the food containers. "Your firm seems more like a family than a corporation."

"We're small but dedicated. Everyone believes in what we're doing." Y/N accepted the container he handed her. "What about XM? From what I've read, it's quite hierarchical."

Something flickered across Minghao's face—so brief Y/N almost missed it. "Traditional corporate structure, yes. Efficiency has its advantages."

"But?"

Minghao looked up, surprised by her perception. "What makes you think there's a 'but'?"

"Your expression. Just for a second."

He considered her for a moment before responding. "The traditional structure has advantages for executing projects efficiently. It has... limitations for innovation. Particularly regarding sustainability initiatives."

This was the most personal insight he'd offered about his professional situation. Y/N sensed something significant beneath his measured words.

"You're advocating for change within XM?"

"Let's say I have a longer-term vision that doesn't always align with quarterly profit expectations." Minghao's tone made it clear he considered this topic closed.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before returning to safer territory—the technical challenges of their current design integration. But Y/N filed away this glimpse beneath Minghao's professional exterior, another piece in the increasingly complex puzzle he presented.

Later that week, Y/N sat in her apartment surrounded by crumpled sketches, trying desperately to focus on refining the public garden layout for their project. Instead, she found herself repeatedly drawing Minghao's profile—the sharp line of his jaw, the thoughtful tilt of his head when considering a design problem.

"This isn't happening," she muttered, furiously erasing the latest inadvertent portrait. "This is Stockholm syndrome. Professional delirium. Sleep deprivation psychosis."

She crumpled the paper and tossed it toward the trash can, missing by a good foot. The floor was already littered with similar failures—evidence of her complete inability to focus without her thoughts drifting to a certain frustratingly elegant architect with stupidly perfect cheekbones and infuriatingly thoughtful design insights.

When her phone rang, Y/N nearly leapt for it, grateful for any distraction. Seeing Seungkwan's name on the screen was an added relief—at least it wasn't Minghao calling about work, which would mean having to sound professional while in the midst of this embarrassing crisis.

"Please tell me you're free for dinner," Seungkwan said without preamble. "We're all at the usual place, and Woozi is three beers in, talking about writing a concept album about sustainable architecture. You need to witness this."

Y/N stared at her disaster of an apartment—takeout containers from three consecutive nights of working late with Minghao, sketches everywhere, and a half-empty bottle of wine that wasn't helping her current crisis at all.

"I'll be there in thirty," she replied, grateful for the escape.

The hole-in-the-wall restaurant was already lively when Y/N arrived, sliding into a booth next to Jeonghan and across from Seungkwan and Woozi.

"The workaholic emerges!" Seungkwan announced dramatically. "How's life with the enemy?"

"He's not the enemy," Y/N answered automatically, then froze at her own defensive tone.

Three pairs of eyes locked onto her with laser focus.

"Well, well, well," Jeonghan drawled, sliding the soju bottle towards her. "That's new."

"What?" Y/N poured herself a generous shot. "He's a collaborator now. Professionally. On the project. That's all."

"Right," Woozi nodded sagely. "Totally professional. Which is why you just drew hearts around his name on that napkin."

Y/N looked down in horror, only to find a blank napkin. When she looked up, Woozi was smirking.

"Your face right now is all the confirmation we needed," he said.

"I hate all of you," Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. "It's not—I don't—UGH."

"Oh my god, she actually likes him," Seungkwan stage-whispered, eyes wide with delight. "Our Y/N has fallen for Corporate Architecture Ken!"

"I have NOT fallen for him," Y/N hissed, looking around to make sure no one from the industry was nearby. "I just... don't completely despise working with him anymore. He has... occasional good ideas."

"Occasional good ideas," Jeonghan repeated flatly. "Is that what we're calling it when you haven't stopped talking about 'Minghao's innovative approach to spatial harmony' for three weeks?"

"Or when you defended his honor to that sustainability consultant who called his previous projects 'ecological disasters'?" Woozi added.

"Or when you started wearing your nice blazers to the collaborative studio instead of your usual 'comfort over corporate' outfits?" Seungkwan chimed in.

Y/N looked between them, betrayal written across her face. "I just wanted to project professionalism!"

"Since when have you cared about looking professional?" Jeonghan laughed. "Your entire brand is 'too busy saving the planet to care about dress codes.'"

Y/N downed her soju in one shot, the harsh reality hitting harder than the alcohol. "This is a disaster. If—and I mean IF—I were developing... unprofessional feelings, which I'm NOT admitting to... it would be career suicide. Personal suicide. A complete betrayal of everything I stand for."

"Dramatic much?" Woozi raised an eyebrow.

"He works for XM Development!" Y/N whispered furiously. "They literally built that resort that destroyed an entire coral reef ecosystem! I protested outside their headquarters! I wrote a scathing industry article about their CEO!"

"Who happens to be his uncle," Seungkwan pointed out unhelpfully. "Awkward future family dinners."

Y/N dropped her head onto the table with a thunk. "This isn't happening. I refuse. I absolutely refuse to be attracted to Xu Minghao. He probably irons his socks. He definitely owns more black turtlenecks than Steve Jobs ever did. His idea of sustainable materials is 'slightly less endangered tropical hardwood.' This is a cosmic joke."

"But he's so pretty," Seungkwan sighed dreamily. "Those cheekbones could cut glass."

"And he did publicly challenge his board about sustainability initiatives," Jeonghan reminded her. "That article was everywhere in the industry. He put his reputation on the line."

"Not helping," Y/N mumbled into the table.

"Look," Woozi said, suddenly serious. "You've spent your entire career fighting against developers who don't care about environmental impact. Now you've found one who might actually be an ally—who gets your vision enough to fight for it within his own corporate structure. What's the real problem?"

Y/N lifted her head, expression pained. "The problem is I wanted to hate him. I was prepared to hate him. Hating him was simple and comfortable and fit my worldview perfectly. But now..." She gestured helplessly.

"Now you like him," Seungkwan finished for her. "Like, LIKE him like him."

"And I hate that I like him," Y/N groaned. "It's so inconvenient. So cliché. So... ugh."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Jeonghan said with philosophical air.

"Well, my heart needs to shut up and get back to focusing on sustainable architecture instead of Minghao's stupid perfect hands and the way he tilts his head when he's really considering an idea and how he remembers exactly how I like my coffee and—" Y/N cut herself off, horrified.

The table erupted in delighted chaos.

"This is the greatest day of my life," Seungkwan declared, wiping away a fake tear. "Our ice queen has melted for the prince of luxury development."

"I'm leaving," Y/N announced, grabbing her bag. "I'm moving to a remote island where there are no architects, no colleagues, and definitely no irritatingly perceptive friends."

As she stood to leave, Woozi called after her: "Just remember to invite us to the wedding! I've already started composing your processional!"

The wadded-up napkin Y/N threw hit him squarely between the eyes.

Meanwhile, across the city, Minghao sat perfectly still in his apartment's minimalist living room, staring at the scale model he'd been working on for the past three hours. It was meant to be a section of their riverfront design. Somehow, he'd unconsciously incorporated elements that were distinctly Y/N's—the curved rainwater channels, the integrated vegetation patterns, the community-focused gathering spaces.

"This is unacceptable," he murmured to himself, setting down his tools with deliberate precision.

He'd spent years cultivating perfect control—over his designs, his career trajectory, his emotions. Three weeks working with Y/N had somehow dismantled that control with terrifying efficiency.

His phone rang. Jun.

"Please tell me you're not still working," his friend said when Minghao answered. "It's Friday night. We're at Mingyu's place. Even Wonwoo left the office."

"I'm not working," Minghao replied, staring at the evidence that he'd been thinking about Y/N rather than actual work. "Just... reviewing some concepts."

"All work and no play makes Minghao a dull boy," Jun sing-songed. "Come over. Mingyu made his famous hotpot, and Vernon brought that weird board game where you have to build fictional cities."

The prospect of architecture-themed entertainment was the last thing Minghao needed right now, but the alternative was sitting alone in his apartment, fighting the unprofessional urge to text Y/N about a design idea that had occurred to him in the shower.

"Fine," he conceded. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Mingyu's apartment was chaos compared to Minghao's serene space—warm, cluttered, and currently filled with his closest friends sprawled across various furniture. The delicious scent of hotpot filled the air, and someone had put on a jazz playlist that mingled with conversations and laughter.

"He emerges from his creative cave!" Jun announced as Minghao entered. "We were taking bets on whether you'd actually show up or send another 'something came up' text."

"I'm not that antisocial," Minghao protested mildly, accepting the drink Mingyu handed him.

"No, you're just that obsessed with perfection," Wonwoo corrected from his position on the couch, not looking up from his book. "How's the collaboration going with the eco-warrior princess?"

Minghao nearly choked on his drink. "Her name is Y/N, and the project is progressing adequately."

"Adequately?" Jun repeated with a grin. "That's not what Mingyu said after he dropped off those materials yesterday. What was it again, Mingyu? Something about 'intense creative energy' and 'finishing each other's sentences'?"

Mingyu had the decency to look apologetic as he stirred the hotpot. "I just mentioned that you two seemed to be working well together. Better than expected, considering how you used to talk about her environmental manifestos."

"We've found professional common ground," Minghao said carefully, taking a seat at the dining table. "Her technical knowledge is impressive, and she's more open to aesthetic considerations than I initially assumed."

"Wow, from Minghao, that's practically a declaration of love," Vernon commented, looking up from where he was setting up the board game.

"It's professional respect," Minghao clarified firmly.

"Is that why you've saved every industry article she's ever written?" Wonwoo asked, finally closing his book. "For professional respect?"

Minghao shot him a betrayed look. "Those are research materials. Know your opponent's perspective."

"And is that why you specially ordered her favorite tea for the studio? And stayed up all night researching wetland ecosystems to understand her water management system better? And hand-crafted that traditional pavilion model that took you three days?" Jun pressed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Those were... professional courtesies," Minghao insisted, feeling uncomfortably warm. "The project benefits from a harmonious working relationship."

"Harmonious," Mingyu repeated with a knowing smile. "Interesting word choice."

"You guys are reading too much into this," Minghao said, helping himself to food in an attempt to end the conversation. "We're collaborating on a project with strict deadlines. That's all."

The room fell silent for a moment before Jun spoke again, his tone gentler. "You know, it wouldn't be the end of the world if you did like her."

"She represents everything I'm supposed to be working against," Minghao said quietly. "She's idealistic to the point of impracticality, stubborn about her principles, and has publicly criticized XM's projects multiple times."

"And yet..." Vernon prompted.

"And yet," Minghao admitted reluctantly, "she's brilliant. Her technical innovations are genuinely revolutionary. She sees connections in systems that most designers miss. And she cares about the impact of her work in a way that's..." he searched for the right word, "...admirable."

"Just admirable?" Wonwoo asked, eyebrow raised.

Minghao set down his chopsticks, suddenly finding it difficult to maintain his usual composure. "Fine. You want the truth? I can't stop thinking about her. I find myself sketching elements I know she'll appreciate into designs she'll never even see. I've started questioning corporate policies I've accepted for years because her arguments make compelling sense. I wake up thinking about our debates and go to sleep solving design problems we discussed."

He ran a hand through his hair in a rare display of frustration. "It's completely inappropriate, utterly unprofessional, and would horrify my uncle and the entire board if they knew. She probably still thinks I'm a corporate sellout despite everything, and the project will end in three weeks, after which we'll go back to being professional adversaries. So yes, maybe I do find her more than just professionally admirable, but it doesn't matter because nothing could ever come of it."

The room was silent for a long moment.

"Wow," Mingyu finally said. "That's the most words I've heard you speak consecutively in... possibly ever."

"She must be really special," Vernon added thoughtfully.

"This is a disaster," Minghao sighed, his perfect posture finally slumping. "Of all the architects in Seoul, why did it have to be her? The one person guaranteed to find my family's business morally reprehensible? The one designer who would consider my aesthetic priorities superficial? The most stubborn, principled, frustratingly intelligent woman I've ever met?"

"The heart is mysterious," Jun said, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "And apparently has terrible timing."

"The heart has nothing to do with this," Minghao insisted. "This is temporary insanity brought on by extended proximity and creative intensity."

"Right," Wonwoo nodded sagely. "That explains why you've started dressing even more impeccably than usual for your studio sessions. And why you've been turning down family dinner invitations to work late with her. And why you risked your position at XM to champion sustainability initiatives that align with her values."

Minghao stared at him. "How do you know all that?"

"I pay attention," Wonwoo shrugged. "And Mingyu talks a lot."

"Traitor," Minghao muttered, glancing at Mingyu, who was suddenly very interested in the hotpot.

The following day, Y/N arrived at the studio determined to maintain strict professional boundaries. She'd spent half the night lecturing herself about the absolute insanity of developing feelings for Xu Minghao, of all people. She had a plan: minimal personal conversation, focused work discussion, and absolutely no noticing of his perfect cheekbones or elegant hands or the way his eyes lit up when discussing traditional Korean architecture.

Her resolve lasted approximately three minutes.

Minghao was already there, arranging a collection of material samples on their work table. He looked up when she entered, and something in his expression seemed different—a flicker of self-consciousness that mirrored her own.

"Good morning," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "I brought coffee." He gestured to a cup on her side of the table. "Black with one sugar."

The fact that he remembered exactly how she took her coffee was not helping her resolution at all.

"Thank you," she managed, setting down her bag and picking up the cup to give her hands something to do. "I was thinking about the central plaza transition areas overnight. I have some ideas for improving the flow."

Minghao nodded, seemingly grateful for the immediate focus on work. "I was considering the same issue. The current design creates a bottleneck during peak usage times."

They fell into their usual pattern of collaborative problem-solving, but something had shifted in the atmosphere. Y/N found herself hyperaware of every accidental brush of hands when they reached for the same reference material, every moment their eyes met when making a point, every instance of inadvertent synchronization when they both had the same idea simultaneously.

Judging by Minghao's slightly stiffer-than-usual posture and occasional hesitations before physical proximity, he might be experiencing similar awareness. The thought was both terrifying and oddly exhilarating.

By afternoon, the awkwardness had somewhat dissipated as they became absorbed in a particularly challenging aspect of the water feature design. Their usual dynamic reasserted itself—Y/N focusing on technical efficiency, Minghao on experiential quality, both pushing the other toward a more integrated solution.

"If we adjust the flow pattern here," Y/N suggested, leaning over the model they'd constructed, "we can increase capture capacity while creating more interesting visual movement."

Minghao considered this, head tilted in the exact way that Y/N had embarrassingly confessed to finding attractive just the night before. She forced herself to focus on the model instead of his profile.

"That could work," he agreed, reaching for a pencil to sketch the modification. Their fingers brushed briefly, causing both to withdraw a fraction too quickly.

"Sorry," they said simultaneously, then looked at each other in surprise.

A moment of silence stretched between them, charged with something neither was prepared to acknowledge.

"We should take a break," Minghao finally said, straightening up. "We've been working for hours."

Y/N nodded, grateful for the suggestion. "Good idea. I need some air."

They stepped outside into the late afternoon sun, walking silently to a small park across from their studio building. Finding a bench, they sat with a careful distance between them, watching office workers hurry past on their way home.

"The project is progressing well," Minghao observed after a while. "Better than I expected when we were first assigned to collaborate."

"Agreed," Y/N said. "It's become something neither of us would have created independently."

"That's the value of diverse perspectives," Minghao replied. "When integrated thoughtfully rather than forced together superficially."

Something about his phrasing made Y/N wonder if he was talking about more than just their architectural collaboration. Before she could analyze this further, her phone chimed with a news alert.

"Oh," she said, reading the notification. "There's an article about you. About XM's sustainability initiative."

Minghao tensed visibly. "Already? The board meeting was just yesterday."

"You didn't know this was being published?" Y/N asked, scanning the article. "'XM Development Creative Director Challenges Board on Sustainability Direction.'"

"No," Minghao replied, his usual composure slipping. "Someone leaked it. This complicates things."

"In what way?"

He hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. "My uncle—the chairman—is deeply traditional in his business approach. He believes our brand is built on luxury and exclusivity, not environmental considerations. I've been trying to shift the corporate direction gradually, presenting sustainability as market advantage rather than moral imperative. A public leak makes it appear I'm forcing his hand through media pressure."

"Are you?" Y/N asked directly.

"No," Minghao said, meeting her eyes. "I would prefer to change the company from within, through demonstrating that sustainable design can be both beautiful and profitable. Our project is meant to be evidence of that possibility."

Y/N studied him, seeing the complexity of his position more clearly than before. "You're navigating a difficult path between family expectations and your own values."

"As we all must in different ways," he replied quietly. After a pause, he added, "Working with you has... clarified certain priorities for me."

The admission hung in the air between them, neither quite ready to explore its full implications. Instead, they watched the sun begin its descent, casting long shadows across the park.

"We should get back to work," Y/N finally said, standing. "The committee presentation is in two weeks."

Minghao nodded, following her lead. As they walked back toward the studio, he asked unexpectedly, "Would you join me for dinner tomorrow evening? There's a restaurant I think you might appreciate—they source all ingredients locally and power their kitchen entirely with renewable energy."

Y/N nearly stumbled in surprise. "That sounds suspiciously like something I would approve of," she said, attempting to keep her tone light despite her suddenly racing pulse.

"I do occasionally pay attention to your preferences," Minghao replied, a rare hint of humor in his voice.

"Then yes," Y/N agreed, telling herself this was still professional courtesy, nothing more. "I'd like that."

As they returned to work, Y/N tried not to think about Seungkwan's inevitable reaction when he heard she was having dinner with Minghao, or how much time she would likely spend tonight overthinking what to wear, or how the prospect of spending an evening with Minghao outside their work environment filled her with both anticipation and alarm.

This was fine. Perfectly normal. Just two collaborating professionals having a business dinner. The fact that her heart raced slightly at the thought was irrelevant and absolutely not worth examining.

Across the table, Minghao appeared to have regained his usual composed focus, though Y/N thought she detected a new tension in his movements, a heightened awareness that mirrored her own. If he was experiencing even a fraction of the confusing emotions currently churning through her, he was hiding it far better than she was.

Y/N forced her attention back to their design, trying to ignore how thoroughly Xu Minghao had disrupted her carefully ordered world—personally and professionally. The most infuriating part wasn't that she was attracted to him despite their differences.

It was that she was attracted to him because of them.

-

Y/N stood in front of her closet, surrounded by discarded outfits, feeling ridiculous. It was just dinner. A professional dinner with a colleague. The fact that she'd tried on seven different combinations was completely unrelated to the fact that said colleague was Xu Minghao.

"This is pathetic," she told her reflection as she adjusted a simple black dress. "Too formal." She changed into jeans and a nice blouse. "Too casual." A tailored pantsuit followed. "Too business meeting."

After thirty more minutes of wardrobe crisis, she settled on a dress that balanced professional and elegant—something she might wear to an industry event rather than a date. Because this was definitely not a date. Minghao had simply suggested they discuss their project in a different setting. The fact that he'd chosen a sustainability-focused restaurant was merely... thoughtful professional courtesy.

Her phone buzzed with a text from

Seungkwan: "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING??? Send pics!!! I need to approve!!!"

Y/N groaned. She'd made the tactical error of mentioning her dinner with Minghao during a work call, and Seungkwan had practically hyperventilated with excitement. She ignored the text, knowing any response would only encourage him.

Seconds later, her phone rang.

"You can't ignore me on this historic occasion," Seungkwan declared when she answered. "Our Y/N, sustainability warrior princess, dining with the prince of luxury development! The office has a betting pool on whether you'll come back engaged or covered in wine after throwing it in his face."

"It's a professional dinner," Y/N insisted, checking her watch. "And I'm going to be late if I don't leave now."

"Just tell me one thing," Seungkwan said, his tone suddenly serious. "Are you going to give this a chance? Whatever 'this' is between you two?"

The unexpected question caught Y/N off guard. "I... don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do," Seungkwan replied gently. "I've known you for years, Y/N. I've seen you passionate about projects, about environmental causes, about fighting corporate developers. I've never seen you like this about a person."

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, suddenly unable to maintain her denial. "It's complicated, Seungkwan. Even if there were... feelings... which I'm not saying there are... there are so many reasons it couldn't work."

"Name one that doesn't involve your stubborn pride or preconceived notions."

She opened her mouth to list the many practical obstacles, then closed it again, realizing how many of her objections had gradually eroded over the weeks of working with Minghao.

"Just be open to possibility," Seungkwan suggested. "That's all I'm saying. And text me immediately if anything romantic happens!"

"Goodbye, Seungkwan," Y/N said firmly, ending the call. But his words lingered as she gathered her things and headed out.

The restaurant was intimate but not overtly romantic—a renovated traditional building with contemporary sustainable elements seamlessly integrated throughout. When Y/N arrived, Minghao was already there, dressed in his usual impeccable style but with subtle differences that suggested he'd put thought into his appearance beyond his normal care.

"This place is beautiful," Y/N said as they were seated at a corner table with a view of a small courtyard garden. "I haven't been here before."

"It opened recently," Minghao replied. "The owner is an old friend who shares your commitment to sustainability. The building itself is carbon-neutral, and all ingredients are sourced within fifty kilometers."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You really did your research."

A flicker of something crossed Minghao's face—was that actually nervousness? "I wanted to choose somewhere you'd appreciate."

The thoughtfulness of this gesture was not helping Y/N maintain her professional distance at all.

After ordering, an awkward silence fell between them—so different from their usual passionate debates or focused work discussions. It was as if removing the shield of their project had left them both uncomfortably exposed.

"So," Y/N finally said, "how did your uncle react to the article about your sustainability initiative?"

Minghao's expression tightened slightly. "About as well as expected. There was a... heated discussion about company direction and my role within it. He believes I'm being influenced by outside perspectives."

"Am I the outside influence he's concerned about?" Y/N asked directly.

"Among others," Minghao admitted. "But my interest in sustainable design predates our collaboration, though working with you has... intensified certain convictions."

"Is your position at risk?" The thought bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

Minghao considered this question carefully. "Not immediately. Family dynamics complicate professional relationships. My uncle values loyalty and tradition, but he also recognizes that markets evolve. The question is whether sustainability represents a fundamental shift in our company identity or merely a strategic adaptation."

"And what do you believe?"

"I believe it's necessary," he said simply. "Both ethically and practically. The future of development must incorporate environmental responsibility—not as marketing strategy but as core principle."

Y/N studied him, struck by how similar his words were to arguments she'd made in industry publications. "That sounds suspiciously like something I would say."

A hint of a smile touched his lips. "Perhaps you've been a bad influence."

"Or a good one, depending on perspective," Y/N countered, returning his smile.

The arrival of their first course provided a welcome shift in conversation to lighter topics. Y/N was surprised by how easily they moved from professional discussions to personal interests—Minghao's background in traditional art, Y/N's early environmental activism, shared admiration for certain architects and mutual disdain for pretentious industry trends.

"I can't believe you also hated the Hansen Tower," Y/N said, laughing at Minghao's devastatingly accurate critique of a recently celebrated building. "Everyone acts like it's revolutionary, but it's just inefficient design hiding behind flashy facades."

"Form without function," Minghao agreed. "Beautiful from a distance but completely impractical to actually occupy. Architecture should serve people, not merely impress them."

"Another suspiciously Y/N-like statement," she observed, enjoying the unexpected alignment of their views.

"I've always held this perspective," Minghao clarified. "But working with you has helped me articulate certain principles more clearly."

As their meal continued, Y/N found herself increasingly aware of how much she was enjoying Minghao's company. His quiet intensity, thoughtful observations, and unexpected flashes of dry humor were dangerously appealing. The careful distance she'd maintained began to feel increasingly arbitrary.

When dessert arrived—a beautifully presented seasonal fruit creation—Minghao hesitated before speaking. "I've been considering a possibility that I wanted to discuss with you."

Something in his tone made Y/N's pulse quicken. "What kind of possibility?"

"A professional one," he clarified, seeming to sense her sudden tension. "I've been contemplating establishing an independent design studio focused on integrating sustainable innovation with cultural and aesthetic excellence. The kind of work we've been doing together, but as a dedicated practice rather than a one-time collaboration."

"You're leaving XM?" Y/N couldn't hide her surprise.

"It's one option I'm considering," Minghao said carefully. "Family expectations are powerful, but at some point, personal convictions must take precedence." After a pause, he added, "I would value your perspective on whether such a venture could succeed."

"I think it could," Y/N said slowly, processing the implications. "But it would be a significant risk compared to your position at XM."

"Some risks are necessary for meaningful change." His gaze met hers with unexpected directness. "Both professionally and personally."

The weight of his words hung between them, carrying implications beyond career choices. Y/N found herself at a crossroads—continue maintaining careful professional boundaries or acknowledge the growing connection between them.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed with an urgent message. Y/N glanced at it and frowned.

"Everything alright?" Minghao asked.

"It's from Seungkwan. Apparently there's been a leak about our project—some industry blog has published speculation about conflicts between our design approaches, claiming the collaboration is failing."

Minghao's expression darkened. "That could undermine the committee's confidence before our presentation."

"We should address this," Y/N said, professional concerns immediately overriding the personal moment. "Perhaps with a joint statement or preliminary images that demonstrate our progress."

"Agreed." Minghao signaled for the check. "We should return to the studio and review what might have been leaked and prepare a response."

The intimate atmosphere dissolved as they shifted back into work mode, both perhaps secretly relieved to postpone the more complicated conversation that had been developing.

The next morning, Y/N arrived at the studio early, determined to focus on damage control rather than dwelling on the unresolved tension from dinner. To her surprise, she found Mingyu pacing outside the door.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed when he saw her. "Thank goodness. Minghao sent me to wait for you. There's an emergency meeting at XM headquarters. The chairman is demanding to review the project immediately instead of waiting for the committee presentation."

"What? Why?" Y/N asked, alarmed by the sudden interference.

"The leaked information created concern about the project's direction," Mingyu explained as they hurried toward a waiting car. "Minghao's uncle is worried about the company's reputation if the collaboration is perceived as compromising XM's luxury brand identity."

During the drive to XM's imposing glass headquarters, Y/N felt mounting dread. This was exactly the corporate interference she'd initially feared when forced to collaborate with a luxury developer.

The building itself embodied everything Y/N had spent her career criticizing—excessive glass that created massive heating and cooling demands, dramatic but energy-intensive lighting, and materials selected for prestige rather than sustainability. As they rode the elevator to the executive floor, Y/N steeled herself for confrontation.

Mingyu led her to a conference room where Minghao was already engaged in tense conversation with an older man whose commanding presence and family resemblance identified him as the chairman. Several board members and executives observed from around a massive table covered with printouts of their design.

Minghao looked up when Y/N entered, his expression carefully controlled but his eyes communicating a silent apology.

"Ah, the environmental architect," the chairman said, turning to assess Y/N with calculating eyes. "I've heard much about you. Please, join us. We were just discussing certain... concerns about the direction of this project."

Y/N approached with professional composure, noting the specific design elements that had been highlighted for criticism—precisely the innovative integrations she and Minghao had been most proud of developing together.

"Chairman Xu," she acknowledged with a respectful nod. "I understand you have questions about our collaborative approach."

"Indeed," he replied coolly. "XM Development has built its reputation on distinctive luxury experiences. These elements," he gestured to their sustainable water management systems and community-focused spaces, "dilute our brand identity with features that could appear in any public park. Our clients expect exclusivity."

Y/N felt a familiar surge of frustration but maintained her professional demeanor. "With respect, Chairman, this project is specifically designed as a public space that balances environmental responsibility with exceptional design quality. The integration creates something unique rather than diluted."

The chairman's expression remained skeptical. "A noble sentiment, but our investors have specific expectations about XM projects. Minghao knows this," he added with a pointed look at his nephew.

"Uncle," Minghao said, his voice quiet but firm, "the committee specifically requested a collaboration that incorporates both companies' strengths. The design we've developed fulfills that brief while expanding XM's capabilities in an emerging market sector."

"A sector you seem increasingly preoccupied with," the chairman observed. "First your sustainability initiative presentation, now this project. One might wonder where your priorities lie."

The undercurrent of personal disappointment in his tone made the professional criticism more cutting. Y/N saw Minghao's carefully maintained composure falter slightly, revealing how deeply his uncle's approval mattered despite their differing visions.

"My priority is the future success of XM," Minghao replied. "Which requires evolution rather than rigid adherence to past formulas."

The chairman waved this away impatiently. "We need concrete adjustments to realign this project with our brand standards. I suggest removing these community elements, upgrading the materials to our usual specifications, and redesigning the central pavilion to feature our signature aesthetic."

Y/N bit her tongue, recognizing that these changes would effectively erase every sustainable innovation they'd integrated, returning the design to exactly the kind of environmentally irresponsible luxury project she'd fought against throughout her career.

She glanced at Minghao, expecting him to begin negotiating a compromise. To her surprise, he straightened his shoulders and spoke with quiet determination.

"No."

The single word fell into stunned silence. Even Y/N hadn't expected such direct refusal.

"What did you say?" the chairman asked, his tone dangerous.

"I said no," Minghao repeated calmly. "The design represents a balanced integration developed through genuine collaboration. Removing those elements would compromise both its integrity and its purpose."

The chairman's expression hardened. "Perhaps you've forgotten whose name is on this building, Minghao. Your experimental design theories are interesting, but ultimately, XM projects reflect the company vision—my vision."

"I haven't forgotten," Minghao replied. "But I also remember the principles my father valued before you took control—innovation, integrity, and creating spaces that elevated people rather than excluding them."

The personal nature of this statement clearly crossed a line. The chairman's expression turned glacial. "We'll continue this discussion privately. Everyone else, please leave us."

The executives quickly filed out, eager to escape the family tension. Y/N hesitated, looking at Minghao with concern.

"It's alright," he told her quietly. "I'll meet you downstairs after we've finished."

Y/N reluctantly left the room, acutely aware that Minghao had just risked his position—and family relationship—defending their shared vision. The implications of this were too significant to ignore.

An hour passed before Minghao appeared in the lobby, his expression composed but with a new resolution in his eyes.

"Walk with me," he said simply, leading her out of the building and across the street to a small park—one of the few green spaces in the corporate district.

They sat on a bench beneath flowering cherry trees, a moment of natural beauty incongruously peaceful after the tension of the meeting.

"I've been relieved of my position as creative director," Minghao said finally, his voice calm despite the bombshell.

Y/N stared at him in shock. "They fired you? Over our project?"

"The project was simply the catalyst. My uncle and I have been moving in different directions for some time. Today merely forced the issue into the open."

"Minghao, I'm so sorry," Y/N said, genuine distress overriding any professional considerations. "You shouldn't have sacrificed your position. We could have modified some elements, found a compromise—"

"No," he interrupted gently. "The compromise would have destroyed what makes the design valuable. And this isn't just about one project. It's about the future I want to create versus the past my uncle wants to preserve."

"Still, your career—"

"Is not defined by XM," Minghao finished. "Perhaps this was inevitable. I've been considering independent paths for some time, as I mentioned last night."

Y/N studied him, searching for signs of regret or uncertainty. Instead, she found surprising calm—as if a burden had been lifted rather than imposed.

"You seem... okay with this," she observed.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "There's freedom in clarity. For years I've tried to balance family expectations with personal convictions. Now the choice has been made for me."

"What will you do now?"

"Exactly what I suggested yesterday—establish an independent practice based on the principles we've explored together." After a pause, he added more softly, "Though I had hoped to discuss that possibility with you under different circumstances."

Y/N felt a flutter of something that definitely wasn't just professional concern. "With me? In what capacity?"

Minghao turned to face her directly, his usual reserve giving way to unexpected openness. "In whatever capacity you might consider. As a consultant, a collaborator, or..." he hesitated, then continued with quiet determination, "...something more. If that's something you might want."

The directness of this semi-confession left Y/N momentarily speechless. Part of her wanted to retreat behind professional boundaries, to remind both of them of all the reasons personal involvement would be complicated. But after watching Minghao sacrifice his position defending principles they both valued, such caution suddenly seemed cowardly.

"I don't know what I want," she admitted honestly. "Three months ago, I would have said collaborating with an XM developer was my worst nightmare. Now I'm sitting here disturbed by the fact that you're no longer with XM, which makes absolutely no sense considering I've spent years criticizing everything they represent."

"Life rarely follows our expectations," Minghao observed, a hint of humor warming his voice.

"Tell me about it," Y/N sighed. "My entire worldview had such clear lines before meeting you. Sustainable architects: good. Luxury developers: bad. Now everything's complicated."

"Complexity can be valuable," Minghao suggested. "In design and in relationships."

Y/N looked at him—really looked at the person rather than the professional role he'd occupied. The man who had challenged her assumptions while respecting her principles. Who had matched her passion for architecture with his own, differently expressed but equally genuine. Whose carefully maintained reserve concealed depths she'd only begun to discover.

"I think," she said carefully, "that I would like to explore what 'something more' might mean. But slowly. This is all very... new territory."

The smile that transformed Minghao's usually composed features was worth every moment of confusion that had preceded it.

"New territory is where innovation happens," he said softly.

Their conversation was interrupted by Y/N's phone ringing insistently. She glanced at it and groaned.

"It's Seungkwan. Again. He's probably heard about the XM meeting already—news travels unnervingly fast in this industry."

"You should answer," Minghao suggested. "He'll just keep calling otherwise."

Y/N reluctantly accepted the call, holding the phone slightly away from her ear in anticipation of Seungkwan's volume.

"Y/N! IS IT TRUE?" Seungkwan practically shouted. "DID MINGHAO JUST QUIT XM DEVELOPMENT TO BE WITH YOU? THE ENTIRE OFFICE IS LOSING THEIR MINDS! WOOZI JUST SPAT COFFEE ALL OVER HIS KEYBOARD!"

"That's not exactly—" Y/N began, feeling her face heat up as Minghao raised an amused eyebrow, clearly able to hear Seungkwan's voice.

"IT'S THE MOST ROMANTIC THING I'VE EVER HEARD!" Seungkwan continued, undeterred. "GIVING UP A FAMILY EMPIRE FOR LOVE! IT'S LIKE A DRAMA BUT WITH SUSTAINABLE ARCHITECTURE!"

"Seungkwan, please," Y/N attempted, mortified. "It's much more complicated than that. He had professional disagreements with the company direction—"

"BECAUSE OF YOU!" Seungkwan crowed triumphantly. "BECAUSE YOU SHOWED HIM THE LIGHT OF ECO-CONSCIOUS DESIGN WITH YOUR PASSION AND PRINCIPLES! I'M WRITING THE WEDDING SPEECH RIGHT NOW!"

"There is no wedding!" Y/N hissed, avoiding Minghao's gaze. "We haven't even—that is—we're just—"

"Just what?" Seungkwan pressed, finally lowering his volume to merely enthusiastic rather than deafening.

Y/N glanced at Minghao, who was watching her with undisguised amusement and something warmer that made her pulse quicken.

"We're figuring it out," she said finally.

"HA! I KNEW IT!" Seungkwan's volume instantly returned to maximum. "JEONGHAN OWES ME DINNER! I SAID YOU'D ADMIT FEELINGS BEFORE THE PROJECT ENDED!"

"I'm hanging up now," Y/N informed him, doing exactly that despite his protests.

She turned to Minghao with embarrassment. "Sorry about that. Seungkwan has no concept of indoor voice or professional boundaries."

"He cares about you," Minghao observed, echoing his comment from weeks earlier. "Though his enthusiasm is... considerable."

"Wait until you meet the rest of them properly," Y/N said, then paused as she realized the implication of future social integration. "I mean, if that's something that might happen. Eventually."

"I'd like that," Minghao said simply.

They sat in surprisingly comfortable silence for a moment, the cherry blossoms occasionally drifting down around them in the spring breeze.

"So what happens now?" Y/N finally asked. "With the project, with the committee presentation, with... everything?"

"The project continues," Minghao said decisively. "My departure from XM doesn't change my commitment to our design. As for the rest..." he looked at her with quiet intensity, "that depends on what we both want to build."

The architectural metaphor wasn't lost on Y/N. "I've never been good at personal blueprints," she admitted. "Professional plans, environmental strategies, technical specifications—those I can draft perfectly. But this..."

"Perhaps we approach it like our design process," Minghao suggested. "Start with core principles, develop the framework gradually, adjust as we learn, and trust that something valuable will emerge from the collaboration."

Y/N couldn't help smiling at his architect's approach to relationship development. "That's the most Minghao way possible of asking someone to date you."

"Is it working?" he asked, a rare vulnerability visible beneath his composed exterior.

Instead of answering immediately, Y/N reached for his hand—a simple gesture that somehow felt more significant than their entire professional collaboration.

"I think," she said carefully, "that I'd like to see what we might design together. Beyond riverfront projects and sustainable pavilions."

Minghao's fingers interlaced with hers, his touch as precise and intentional as everything else about him. "I've found our collaborative process surprisingly rewarding so far."

"Despite the arguments?"

"Because of them, in part," he amended. "Few people challenge me the way you do. It's... invigorating."

Y/N laughed. "Only you would find someone questioning your every design decision 'invigorating.'"

"Only when the questions are intelligent ones," he clarified, his thumb tracing a small pattern against her palm. "And when they come from someone whose perspective I've grown to value."

The simple honesty of this statement affected Y/N more than any grand declaration could have. She looked at their joined hands—her practical manicure next to his artist's fingers—and thought about how unexpected and yet somehow right this felt.

"So we continue with the committee presentation," she said, bringing the conversation back to safer territory while she processed her emotions. "And afterward..."

"Afterward, we explore possibilities," Minghao finished. "Professional and personal."

"Seungkwan is going to be insufferable about this," Y/N groaned, but couldn't suppress her smile.

"As will Jun," Minghao admitted. "He's been making increasingly unsubtle comments about our 'creative chemistry' for weeks."

The thought of their respective friends' reactions to this development was both mortifying and amusing. Y/N could already imagine the dramatic speeches, the knowing looks, the inevitable "I told you so" declarations.

"We should get back to the studio," she said reluctantly. "We have a presentation to finalize, and now we need to address your change in professional status as well."

Minghao nodded, but neither moved immediately to leave the peaceful moment they'd created together.

"Just to be clear," Y/N said, feeling uncharacteristically uncertain, "you're really okay with what happened at XM? You didn't throw away your career because of our project?"

"I didn't throw away anything," Minghao replied with quiet certainty. "I chose authenticity over compromise. The project was simply the catalyst for a decision that's been forming for longer than you might realize." After a pause, he added, "Though I will admit that knowing you has clarified certain priorities."

Y/N felt a rush of warmth at his words. "That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, and it wasn't even really a compliment."

"It was absolutely a compliment," Minghao corrected her. "Just expressed with appropriate restraint."

Y/N laughed, struck by how much she enjoyed his particular brand of reserved intensity. "You know, for two people who started out thinking we represented everything wrong with each other's approach to architecture, we've come to a surprisingly compatible place."

"Perhaps we weren't as opposed as we believed," Minghao suggested. "Just viewing the same principles from different angles."

As they finally rose to leave, still holding hands as they walked back toward their studio, Y/N reflected on the unexpected journey that had brought them to this point. From professional adversaries to reluctant collaborators to... whatever they were becoming now. It wasn't a path she could have designed or anticipated.

But sometimes, she was beginning to realize, the most interesting spaces emerged from unexpected intersections—in architecture and in life.

-

The committee presentation room buzzed with anticipation. Two weeks had passed since Minghao's departure from XM Development—two weeks of intense preparation, industry speculation, and carefully navigated new personal territory between him and Y/N.

"Are you ready for this?" Y/N asked, adjusting the display boards one final time. She wore her most professional outfit, a structured suit in deep green that somehow managed to be both authoritative and a personal statement.

"Absolutely," Minghao replied, his calm demeanor betraying none of the professional upheaval he'd experienced. If anything, he seemed more centered than before, as if shedding his corporate constraints had allowed a more authentic self to emerge.

Word of their situation had spread throughout the industry—the XM creative director who'd left his family's company over creative differences, continuing to collaborate with the sustainable architect who'd presumably influenced his professional rebellion. The resulting publicity had transformed their presentation from a standard committee review into a highly anticipated industry event.

Joshua Hong approached them with an encouraging smile. "Quite the turnout today," he observed, nodding toward the unusually full room. "Your project has generated significant interest."

"Apparently professional drama is good for publicity," Y/N said dryly.

"Quality work is good for publicity," Joshua corrected. "The circumstances simply brought additional attention to what was already an innovative collaboration."

As committee members and industry observers took their seats, Y/N felt a flutter of nerves—not about the design itself, which she knew was exceptional, but about the public perception of her relationship with Minghao. They'd agreed to maintain strictly professional behavior during the presentation, focusing attention on their work rather than the personal connection that had developed alongside it.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Seungkwan: "We're all here! Third row, looking FABULOUS and ready to cheer inappropriately loud!!!"

Y/N glanced over to see Seungkwan, Jeonghan, and Woozi seated together, all giving her enthusiastic thumbs up. Behind them sat Jun, Mingyu, and Wonwoo—Minghao's support team. The sight of their merged friend groups was both heartwarming and mildly terrifying.

"Your colleagues are here," she murmured to Minghao. "And mine. Together. This could be interesting."

"Should we be concerned?" Minghao asked, following her gaze to where Seungkwan was now showing something on his phone to Jun, both of them grinning conspiratorially.

"Definitely," Y/N confirmed.

Before she could elaborate, Joshua called the presentation to order. Y/N took a deep breath, centering herself in the familiar territory of professional expertise as she stepped forward to begin.

"The Hangang Riverfront Revitalization Project presented unique challenges and opportunities," she began, her voice clear and confident. "Our goal was to create a space that serves environmental needs, community functions, and cultural expression in equal measure."

As she outlined the technical aspects of their design, Y/N found herself naturally transitioning to Minghao's contributions without the planned handoff cues they'd rehearsed. Their presentation flowed organically between her explanations of sustainability innovations and his descriptions of spatial experience and cultural references.

The committee watched with undisguised interest as these former adversaries demonstrated a seamless collaborative vision. When they revealed the final design models and renderings, a murmur of appreciation spread through the room.

Their central concept—visible environmental systems integrated with traditional Korean design elements to create both functional efficiency and cultural resonance—was beautifully realized in the detailed models. Water features that processed rainwater while referencing historical irrigation patterns. Community gardens arranged to create contemplative spaces reminiscent of traditional courtyards. Solar elements that cast evolving shadow patterns inspired by traditional architecture.

During the question period, a committee member asked directly about the impact of Minghao's separation from XM Development on the project's viability.

"My professional transition doesn't affect my commitment to this design," Minghao answered with perfect composure. "The concept we've developed represents principles I intend to pursue in my independent practice."

"And how do you respond to industry speculation that personal factors influenced these professional decisions?" the committee member pressed, glancing between Minghao and Y/N with poorly disguised curiosity.

Y/N tensed, but Minghao responded with characteristic grace.

"Professional respect can develop into broader appreciation," he said carefully. "Y/N's environmental expertise and design integrity challenged me to reconsider certain assumptions. That kind of intellectual growth naturally influences career decisions."

It was the perfect answer—acknowledging their connection without feeding gossip or distracting from the work itself. Y/N shot him a grateful look as the questions returned to technical aspects of the design.

When the presentation concluded, the committee announced they would deliberate and provide their decision within the week. As the crowd dispersed, Y/N and Minghao found themselves surrounded by their enthusiastic friends.

"That was AMAZING!" Seungkwan declared, hugging Y/N before she could evade him. "You two have, like, actual presentation chemistry! It was like watching an architectural tango!"

"Please never say 'architectural tango' again," Y/N begged, though she couldn't help smiling at his enthusiasm.

"Your integration of the water systems was particularly elegant," Wonwoo told her, adjusting his glasses. "I appreciated the technical rigor behind the aesthetic elements."

"And your cultural references were so thoughtfully applied," Jeonghan said to Minghao. "Not superficial at all."

As their friends chatted excitedly about various aspects of the presentation, Y/N noticed the easy way their previously separate groups had merged—Mingyu and Seungkwan comparing notes on their respective roles, Jun and Jeonghan clearly bonding over some shared mischievous energy, Wonwoo and Woozi engaged in what appeared to be a deeply technical conversation about acoustic design elements.

"They get along well," Minghao observed quietly, coming to stand beside her.

"Surprisingly well," Y/N agreed. "Though I'm not sure the world is ready for Seungkwan and Jun joining forces."

"Too late," Minghao noted, nodding toward where the two were clearly plotting something, occasional glances in their direction confirming that Y/N and Minghao were the subject of whatever scheme they were developing.

"We should probably be concerned about that," Y/N said.

"Definitely," Minghao agreed, echoing her earlier assessment.

Before they could investigate further, Joshua approached with news.

"The committee was impressed," he told them. "Very impressed. They've asked me to inform you that deliberations may be abbreviated—they're leaning strongly toward full approval with minimal revisions."

"That's wonderful news," Y/N said, relief and pride washing through her. After everything they'd been through, the validation of their shared vision meant more than she'd expected.

"There's something else," Joshua continued. "The city planning department was so taken with your integrated approach that they're considering a larger initiative—a series of sustainable urban interventions throughout Seoul, using your river project as a prototype. They'd be interested in discussing this with both of you, regardless of which firm ultimately leads the river project construction."

Y/N exchanged a look with Minghao, both processing the implications of this unexpected opportunity.

"We'd be very interested in those discussions," Minghao replied, his calm words belying the significance of Joshua's news.

After Joshua departed, Seungkwan appeared with an announcement of his own. "Attention, architectural power couple and assorted friends! We've arranged a celebration at The Garden Terrace. No excuses, attendance mandatory, first round on Jeonghan because he lost the betting pool about when you two would finally get together!"

"We haven't officially—" Y/N began, but Seungkwan waved away her objection.

"Semantics! You're holding hands right now!"

Y/N looked down in surprise to find that, indeed, her hand had somehow found Minghao's during their conversation with Joshua. She hadn't even noticed.

"The evidence is undeniable," Jun declared solemnly. "Subconscious hand-holding indicates advanced relationship development."

"That's not a real thing," Minghao told his friend with fond exasperation.

"And yet," Jun gestured meaningfully at their joined hands, "empirical evidence suggests otherwise."

Rather than pulling away in embarrassment as she might have weeks earlier, Y/N simply adjusted her grip on Minghao's hand more comfortably. "Fine. We'll come to your celebration. But no embarrassing toasts or relationship interrogations."

"We make no such promises," Seungkwan replied cheerfully. "See you all there in thirty minutes!"

The Garden Terrace was exactly the kind of place Y/N and Minghao might have designed together—a rooftop restaurant with traditional elements reimagined through contemporary sustainable design. Living walls provided natural cooling, solar canopies created dappled light patterns across wooden floors, and the careful arrangement of spaces allowed both community interaction and private conversation.

Their friends had reserved a corner section with spectacular views of the city at sunset. Y/N and Minghao found themselves at the center of a boisterous celebration, their successful presentation and potential new opportunities providing the official reason for festivities, though everyone present knew the unofficial cause for celebration was more personal.

"A toast!" Seungkwan announced, raising his glass. "To the most unlikely architectural partnership in Seoul—proof that opposites not only attract but create award-winning public spaces in the process!"

"And to new beginnings," Jeonghan added, with a meaningful look at Minghao. "Professional and otherwise."

Everyone raised their glasses, the genuine warmth of the moment overriding Y/N's usual aversion to being the center of attention. Under the table, Minghao's hand found hers again, a quiet connection amid the lively celebration.

As the evening progressed, Y/N found herself in conversation with Jun while Minghao was engaged in discussion with Woozi across the table.

"He's different with you," Jun observed, nodding toward Minghao. "More himself, somehow."

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, curious about this perspective from someone who'd known Minghao far longer than she had.

"Minghao has always contained himself," Jun explained. "Precise control in everything—his art, his work, his emotions. Necessary for navigating family expectations and corporate politics, but it became second nature. With you, he's still Minghao—still thoughtful and measured—but there's a freedom to it now. Less constraint, more authentic expression."

Y/N considered this, watching Minghao as he listened intently to Woozi's apparently passionate discourse on acoustic design. There was a subtle openness to his posture and expressions that did seem different from when they'd first met.

"I'm glad," she said simply. "He deserves that freedom."

"And what about you?" Jun asked. "Your friends tell me you've changed too."

"Do they now?" Y/N replied dryly, making a mental note to have words with Seungkwan about discussing her personal development with Minghao's friends.

"Apparently you smile more," Jun said with a grin. "And have developed a surprising tolerance for aesthetic considerations in your designs."

"Function still comes first," Y/N insisted, though she couldn't deny how her perspective had evolved. "But I've come to appreciate that beauty can be functional in its own way—creating spaces people connect with emotionally means they value and protect those spaces."

"Exactly what Minghao has always believed," Jun noted. "See? Perfect harmony."

"Hardly perfect," Y/N laughed. "We still argue constantly."

"Creative tension," Jun corrected. "Essential for innovation."

Across the table, Minghao caught her eye and smiled—that rare, genuine smile that still made her heart do ridiculous things in her chest. He excused himself from his conversation and made his way to her side.

"Stealing my architect, Jun?" he asked, his tone light.

"Just confirming you're worthy of her," Jun replied with theatrical seriousness. "The jury remains deliberating."

"A reasonable concern," Minghao acknowledged, surprising Y/N with his playfulness. "I have similar questions myself."

"On that note, I'll leave you two to your existential relationship doubts," Jun said, standing. "Seungkwan is demonstrating what he calls 'the dance of sustainable architecture' to Mingyu, and I can't miss that."

As Jun departed, Minghao took his place beside Y/N. "Having second thoughts yet?" he asked quietly.

"About?"

"This." He gestured between them. "Us. The complicated personal and professional entanglement we've somehow created."

Y/N considered the question seriously. "Second thoughts? No. Occasional moments of disbelief that I'm actually involved with someone who once represented everything I professionally opposed? Absolutely."

"The feeling is mutual," Minghao assured her, his eyes warm with amusement. "My uncle still can't comprehend it. He called yesterday to ask if this was an elaborate professional strategy to absorb your environmental expertise into a new luxury brand."

"Is it?" Y/N teased.

"If so, it's a strategy that's backfired spectacularly," Minghao replied. "I find myself increasingly aligned with your environmental priorities rather than his profit margins."

"Terrible business sense," Y/N agreed solemnly. "But excellent ethical development."

Their conversation was interrupted by Seungkwan's return, slightly flushed from whatever architectural dance he'd been performing.

"Stop being antisocial in your little couple bubble," he admonished. "We're planning the housewarming party for your new joint studio."

"Our what?" Y/N asked, bewildered.

"Your new studio," Seungkwan repeated as if it were obvious. "For the independent practice you're obviously going to establish together. We've already started a Pinterest board for the design. Very minimal but with plants everywhere. Mingyu suggested a coffee station that would make most cafes jealous."

"We haven't discussed—" Minghao began.

"Details," Seungkwan dismissed with a wave. "The concept is solid. 'XYN Design' or something similarly clever that combines your names. Sustainable luxury for the conscious elite. We're trademarking taglines as we speak."

Y/N looked at Minghao, expecting shared exasperation at their friends' presumption. Instead, she found him looking thoughtful.

"It's not an unreasonable concept," he said carefully. "Combining our complementary expertise in a dedicated practice."

"You're actually considering this?" Y/N asked, surprised by his openness to Seungkwan's meddling.

"I'm considering many possibilities," Minghao clarified. "Including professional collaboration that extends beyond our current project." After a pause, he added more quietly, "If that's something you might be interested in exploring."

Before Y/N could respond, Seungkwan clapped his hands delightedly. "See? It's practically decided! Jun, they're discussing the studio concept! Operation Architecture Romance is advancing to phase three!"

"We have phases?" Y/N asked, alarmed.

"So many phases," Seungkwan confirmed cheerfully before hurrying off to update Jun on this development.

Left momentarily alone despite the bustling celebration around them, Y/N turned to Minghao. "Are we really discussing a joint studio?"

"We're discussing possibilities," Minghao clarified. "No commitment, just... consideration of potential futures."

The careful way he framed it—open but not pressuring—was so characteristic of his approach to everything. Y/N found herself appreciating this thoughtfulness even as part of her marveled at how quickly her life had transformed.

"Three months ago, I would have laughed at the mere suggestion of working with you long-term," she admitted. "Now it seems like the most natural evolution imaginable."

"Evolution rather than revolution," Minghao observed. "Gradual integration of complementary elements."

"You make it sound so architectural," Y/N smiled.

"It's how I understand the world," he acknowledged. "Through spatial relationships and balanced tensions."

"And how do you understand us?" she asked, surprising herself with the directness of the question.

Minghao considered this with characteristic thoughtfulness. "As a harmonious counterpoint," he said finally. "Different melodies that create something more complex and beautiful together than either could alone."

The poetry of his answer caught Y/N off guard. For someone so reserved, Minghao occasionally revealed unexpected depth of feeling through carefully chosen words.

"That's beautiful," she said softly.

"It's accurate," he replied simply. "At least from my perspective."

Around them, their friends continued celebrating, occasional glances and smiles in their direction suggesting that their quiet conversation was not going unnoticed. Y/N found she didn't mind the attention as much as she might have expected. There was something affirming about having their connection witnessed and supported by people who mattered to them both.

"Whatever we decide professionally," Y/N said, returning to the question of their potential collaboration, "I know I want to continue what we've started personally. Despite how unexpected and occasionally inconvenient it might be."

"Inconvenient?" Minghao raised an eyebrow.

"Well, yes," Y/N laughed. "Do you know how often I have to hear Seungkwan say 'I told you so'? At least three times daily. And my entire professional identity was partly built on criticizing exactly the kind of development your family company represents. Plus, you're annoyingly particular about material selections and have opinions about literally every design element down to the smallest detail."

"All valid points," Minghao acknowledged, the hint of a smile playing around his lips. "Though I could note similar inconveniences—Jun's unbearable smugness, my uncle's disappointment, your stubborn insistence on prioritizing function even when aesthetic adjustments would create negligible efficiency impacts..."

"See? Completely impractical connection," Y/N concluded, her smile belying her words.

"And yet," Minghao said softly, taking her hand, "here we are."

"Here we are," Y/N agreed, feeling a sense of rightness that defied all her previous notions of compatibility. "Designing something neither of us planned but both of us need."

Six Months Later

Y/N adjusted the placement of the architectural model on the display table, stepping back to assess its impact in the gallery lighting. Around her, staff made final preparations for the evening's exhibition opening—"Sustainable Harmony: New Directions in Urban Design."

The gallery space—a renovated industrial building with exposed brick walls and carefully preserved structural elements—provided the perfect backdrop for their first major presentation as partners in XYN Studio, the name they'd ultimately embraced despite Y/N's initial eye-rolling at Seungkwan's suggestion.

The past six months had been a whirlwind of change. The Hangang Riverfront project had received unanimous committee approval and was now under construction, with Y/N and Minghao serving as design consultants. Their joint studio had formed organically from their continued collaboration, gathering surprising momentum as clients sought their unique integration of sustainability and aesthetics.

And personally... Y/N smiled to herself, remembering the incredulous looks on her friends' faces when she'd casually mentioned moving in with Minghao just three months into their relationship. For someone who had always prided herself on careful planning and methodical decision-making, the speed of these developments should have been alarming. Instead, each step had felt like a natural progression, as if they were simply acknowledging what had already formed between them.

"Perfect," Minghao's voice came from behind her as he surveyed the model placement. "The lighting highlights the water elements exactly as we intended."

Y/N turned to find him carrying two cups of tea—oolong for himself, black with one sugar for her. The simple gesture of remembering her preference, as he had from their earliest collaboration, still touched her in unexpected ways.

"Nervous?" she asked, accepting the cup.

"Appropriately alert to the professional significance of the evening," he corrected, making her smile. Minghao rarely admitted to anything as unrefined as nervousness, though she'd learned to recognize the subtle signs—the slightly more precise adjustment of his cuffs, the extra moment spent considering his words.

"It's a beautiful exhibition," Y/N assured him, looking around at the carefully curated display of their work. "The perfect introduction of XYN Studio to the wider design community."

Their exhibition showcased a series of urban interventions—some completed, others conceptual—that demonstrated their shared vision. Each project balanced environmental innovation with cultural and aesthetic excellence, creating spaces that served both planet and people with equal consideration.

"Your parents are coming tonight?" Minghao asked, a hint of that not-nervousness in his voice.

"Yes," Y/N confirmed. "They're excited to finally meet you properly. My father has read every article about your departure from XM at least twice. He's fascinated by your professional evolution."

"And your criticism of my family's company?" Minghao asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Also fascinated by that," Y/N admitted with a laugh. "He finds our entire relationship 'conceptually intriguing,' which is high praise from an environmental engineering professor."

"And your uncle?" she asked in return. "Any change in his position?"

Minghao's expression grew more thoughtful. "Some. The success of the river project has made him reconsider certain assumptions. He's even incorporated some sustainability elements into recent XM developments—though more as marketing strategy than core principle."

"Progress nonetheless," Y/N observed.

"Incremental change," Minghao agreed. "Sometimes that's how transformation happens—not through dramatic rejection but gradual integration of new ideas."

The philosophy could have applied equally to their personal journey—from professional adversaries to reluctant collaborators to partners in every sense. Not a sudden conversion but a gradual recognition of complementary values beneath seemingly opposed approaches.

Their moment of reflection was interrupted by the arrival of familiar voices—their friends coming early to preview the exhibition before the official opening.

"It's MAGNIFICENT!" Seungkwan declared before he'd even fully entered the gallery, Jeonghan and Woozi following with more moderate but equally supportive expressions.

"Professional bias noted but appreciated," Y/N replied dryly as Seungkwan embraced her enthusiastically.

"No bias, only objective recognition of excellence," Seungkwan insisted. "Though I do take partial credit for facilitating the partnership that made this possible."

"How exactly did you facilitate it?" Woozi asked skeptically.

"Through strategic encouragement and creating opportunities for romance to blossom," Seungkwan explained grandly. "Also, I totally called it from day one."

"We all called it," Jeonghan corrected. "Some of us were just more vocal about it."

As they bantered, Jun, Mingyu, and Wonwoo arrived, completing what had become their merged circle of friends. The easy integration of their once-separate groups mirrored Y/N and Minghao's own blending of lives and practices—unexpected but surprisingly natural.

"The central concept is exceptionally well-articulated," Wonwoo observed as he studied one of the display boards. "The balance between innovation and accessibility is precisely calibrated."

"High praise from architecture's most discerning analyst," Jun translated for Y/N. "He stayed up all night reading your design manifesto and called it 'refreshingly substantive.'"

As their friends explored the exhibition, offering commentary and support in their various styles, Y/N found herself standing slightly apart with Minghao, observing the scene with shared appreciation.

"Did you ever imagine this?" she asked quietly. "When we were first forced to collaborate on the river project? That we'd end up here?"

"Never," Minghao admitted, his honesty one of the many things she'd come to value deeply. "I expected a difficult professional exercise that would ultimately remain a compromise between opposed visions. I never anticipated discovering such fundamental alignment beneath our surface differences."

"Nor did I," Y/N agreed. "I was so certain I understood exactly who you were and what you represented. Being wrong has never been so satisfying."

Minghao's expression softened into the smile that was still rare in professional settings but increasingly common in their private moments. "Perhaps that's the most valuable outcome of our collaboration—the recognition that initial judgments rarely capture the complexity of another person's perspective."

"That, and the truly exceptional architecture we create together," Y/N added with a grin.

"That too," Minghao acknowledged. "Though I maintain the personal discovery has been the more revolutionary development."

Before Y/N could respond, Seungkwan's voice rose above the general conversation. "Everyone! Attention please! Jun and I have an announcement!"

Y/N and Minghao exchanged wary glances, all too familiar with the creative chaos that tended to result from Seungkwan and Jun's collaborative ideas.

"As the self-appointed chroniclers of the greatest architectural love story of our generation," Seungkwan began dramatically, "Jun and I have created something special to commemorate this exhibition opening."

"We call it 'From Rivalry to Romance: The Architectural Journey of Y/N and Minghao,'" Jun continued, producing a tablet with a flourish. "A digital scrapbook documenting your transformation from enemies to partners."

"You did not," Y/N said, horrified fascination in her voice.

"We absolutely did," Seungkwan confirmed. "Complete with candid photos, overheard quotes, and a timeline of significant moments—including Y/N's legendary takedown of Minghao's Dongdaemun Plaza extension in Sustainable Design Quarterly, which we now recognize as sublimated attraction expressed through professional criticism."

"That was genuine criticism," Y/N protested, though she couldn't help laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

"The glass curtain wall was legitimately problematic from an energy management perspective," Minghao agreed, surprising everyone by joining her defense.

"See? Still perfectly aligned in their architectural principles," Jun declared triumphantly. "True love."

As their friends gathered to view what promised to be an equally embarrassing and endearing documentation of their relationship, Y/N turned to Minghao. "Should we be concerned about this becoming public?"

"Definitely," Minghao replied, echoing their now-familiar exchange. But his expression remained calm, even quietly amused. "Though I find I'm less concerned about public perception than I once would have been."

It was true, Y/N realized. Both of them had grown more comfortable with the unconventional nature of their connection—professional rivals turned partners, environmental advocate and luxury developer finding common ground, opposites creating harmony rather than discord.

As the gallery began filling with exhibition guests—fellow architects, clients, critics, and friends—Y/N felt a moment of perspective on the journey that had brought them here. Not just the architectural achievements displayed around them, but the personal evolution that had made those achievements possible.

Later that evening, after successful introductions between families, enthusiastic reception of their work, and countless congratulations from colleagues, Y/N and Minghao finally found a quiet moment alone in the corner of the gallery.

"A successful launch," Minghao observed, his composed exterior barely hinting at the satisfaction she knew he felt.

"For the studio and the exhibition," Y/N agreed. "Though I could have done without Seungkwan and Jun's multimedia presentation of our 'architectural romance.'"

"It was surprisingly well-produced," Minghao noted with that hint of humor she'd come to treasure. "The timeline of our evolving design approach alongside our personal development showed genuine analytical thinking."

"Of course you would appreciate the organizational structure," Y/N laughed. "Even in embarrassing friend interventions, you find design elements to admire."

"Pattern recognition is fundamental to architectural thinking," Minghao replied solemnly, though his eyes betrayed his amusement.

Y/N studied him in the gallery lighting—the elegant lines of his profile, the careful precision of his movements, the subtle warmth in his expression that most people missed but she had learned to read fluently. All the elements that had once seemed to represent values opposed to her own now recognized as simply different expressions of shared principles.

"I love you," she said simply—a statement they'd exchanged privately before but never in a professional context. "Not despite our differences but because of how they've helped us both grow."

Minghao's expression softened in the way reserved only for her. "I love you too," he replied, his quiet voice carrying the depth of feeling he expressed more through actions than words. "You've changed how I see everything—architecture, sustainability, purpose, balance. It's been the most valuable revelation of my career."

"Just your career?" Y/N teased gently.

"Of my life," Minghao amended, taking her hand with characteristic intentionality. "The most unexpected and essential discovery I never knew I needed to make."

Around them, their exhibition—the physical manifestation of their shared vision—drew appreciation from the design community that had once seen them as representatives of opposed approaches. Their friends and families mingled in unlikely but harmonious combination. And between them, something had formed that neither could have designed alone—a connection that balanced strength with vulnerability, principle with flexibility, certainty with growth.

Not a compromise between conflicting visions, but a new creation altogether—unexpected, challenging, and ultimately more beautiful than either could have imagined when they first faced each other across that conference room, certain they understood exactly who the other was and what they represented.

The most exquisite designs, they had both discovered, emerge not from perfect agreement but from productive tension—opposing forces finding balance to create something neither could achieve alone.

In architecture, and in love.

[kissesbyliz]

simon having beef with your dog.

the thing hates him, he's sure. he's been aware of the fact ever since the first time it jumped up at him, indulging itself with a nice helping of his brand new jeans.

"oh my god!" you gaped at his jeans with horror, immediately scooping the offending animal into your arms. even within its confines, the creature still manages a growl that simon swears is nothing less than evil.

between the sweet apologizes falling from your lips and the way your eyes widened in embarrassment, simon unsurprisingly found it difficult to stay mad. after fixing him a change of clothes and apologizing profusely for your pet's behavior, you urged your pet into its play pen to prevent her from ruining the rest of the night. she stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a pitiful whine as she was obviously not used to being locked up.

though the inner dog-lover in him should be feeling a twinge of guilt at the sight, simon couldn't deny a sense of victory.

at least now, they were even.

they used to be even. used to. his score was ultimately decimated after countless incidents of your dog peeing all over his boots, stealing his food, and gnawing it's way through the souvenirs he brought for you from missions.

why the thing hates him so much is beyond him. ever since the first incident, he's tried every bribery method under the sun. from endless treats to long walks in her favorite park, all his attempts ended the same way: with his hand being damn near ripped off his arm.

after weeks of no progress, you had brought up the idea of meeting at his place instead. simon refused. he couldn't handle the thought of you traveling the hour it takes to get to his apartment, just to see him. after all, if he could handle countless hordes of enemies and disarm bombs, he sure as hell could handle some dog.

which of course, brings him to his current predicament.

after a particularly long deployment, you've taken the liberty of planning a special welcome home dinner for him and his task force. nothing big, just a small gathering to celebrate a reunion between friends as well as a job well done.

you insisted on doing all the work of preparing the food and letting him relax on the couch. it was a dinner in celebration of him as well, after all. the very last thing simon wanted was to leave you to do all the work, but if he was going to do anything about your dog, he had to do it now.

because even though he'd call his task force some of the closest friends he has, he pales at the idea of them finding out that a dog has him beat. he can already imagine how they'll react: a (horribly) stifled laugh from price, a smart jab from gaz, and an unashamed guffaw from johnny. and of course, the endless amounts of taunting that'll be flowing throughout the base. yeah, that's not going to happen. least of all, in front of his girl.

he approaches the play pen which houses your dog slowly, attempting to seem as unintimidating as he can for someone of his stature. your pet immediately takes notice--has had an eye laser pointed on him since the moment he arrived--and starts up a low growl.

"hey..girl..." he greets awkwardly, crouching down in a manner that allows his every action to be observed. it's evident that your dog couldn't be less happy with his presence, with the way she moves to the opposite end of the enclosure. he sighs, dropping onto the floor next to the pen and wincing at the slight pain shooting up his tailbone.

"why d'ya hate me so much, huh?" your dog huffed, closing her eyes and assuming a sleeping position. simon didn't even know dogs were capable of the silent treatment. unfazed, he pushes on, speaking to the dog as if it miraculously developed the ability to understand him.

"all i wanna do is spend time with my girl, and all you do is try to make me look like the bad guy." he shoots her an unimpressed look. "it's not like i'm gonna take her away, y'know."

to simon's surprise, the dog rises and begins to slowly approach him and for once, without utter disdain in her eyes. simon really didn't expect that to work, but he supposes he doesn't have any room to complain. he gulps -- he's never made it this far before. carefully, he raises a big hand up to stroke over the dog's soft fur.

in a flash, the canine snaps her teeth onto the surface of his skin. hard.

"fuck--!" he snarls, snatching his hand away. at that moment, the doorbell rings and he cradles his aching hand to his chest. he stands up, glaring hard at the animal as he goes to answer the door.

"hey, there's my favorite girl!" johnny pushes past him and beelines for the play pen, where your dog is excitedly standing on its hind legs to greet him. simon's never seen her tail wag so fast. she eagerly yips for him to come closer, bowing to allow him to scratch behind her ears.

"oh, and hey to you too, i guess." johnny briefly nods in acknowledgement in your direction. you playfully roll your eyes, giggling at his display.

"simon. 's good to see you." price offers a brief nod, and kyle pats him on the shoulder before they both walk around him to join johnny at the play pen. the dog takes to the rest of his team just as easily, greeting them all with tail wags and licks to the hand.

simon riley is at a loss.

[p0orbaby]

In the Wake of a Hurricane

summary: your hormones are driving you both increasingly insane

warnings: pregnancy stuff, suggestive ish, leah being a saint

a/n: request

word count: 1.6k

-

Leah has started to develop this twitch in her right eye. It comes and goes, like her patience. It’s not a permanent fixture, yet, but you suspect if she survives the next few weeks without needing a psychiatric evaluation, it’ll be nothing short of a miracle.

You're sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket that could double as a small tent. Leah’s across the room, keeping her distance. She’s reading, or pretending to read, one of those pregnancy books that’s the size of a dictionary but probably less useful. It’s full of terms like Braxton Hicks and perineal massage, which you’re pretty sure are just euphemisms for you’re going to suffer, and there’s no escape.

You’ve been staring at her for the last ten minutes, silently stewing. She hasn’t noticed yet, which only makes you more annoyed.

“Leah,” you finally snap, like it’s her fault you’ve suddenly decided she’s the most irritating person on the planet.

She looks up, all innocent blue eyes and confused frown. “Yeah?”

“Why are you all the way over there?” you demand, even though five minutes ago, you’d told her to stop hovering because she was “being clingy.”

She hesitates, like she’s weighing her options. You can practically see the gears turning in her head, trying to figure out which answer will result in the least amount of yelling.

“You said you needed space,” she says carefully, like she’s explaining to a particularly volatile bomb why it shouldn’t go off.

“That was ages ago,” you huff, even though it was more like twenty minutes. “Now I want to be held”

She blinks, clearly surprised by the sudden shift. But she’s up and moving toward you before you can throw a fit about how slow she’s being. When she finally sits down next to you, you immediately nestle into her side, nuzzling your head into the crook of her neck. You sigh dramatically, like you’ve just found the meaning of life in her collarbone.

Leah relaxes, thinking she’s successfully navigated another hormonal minefield. Poor thing. She’s so blissfully unaware of what’s coming next.

Her arm wraps around you, and you’re content for all of thirty seconds before something in you flips, like a switch being flicked by a very cruel god. Suddenly, the feel of her skin against yours is unbearable. It’s like you’re being hugged by a furnace. You’re about three seconds away from ripping off all your clothes and throwing them out the window, which is probably not the most rational response, but hey, pregnancy.

“Ugh, get off,” you groan, pushing her away like she’s made of cactus.

Leah pulls back immediately, her eyes wide with confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“Too hot,” you mutter, flapping your hand at her like a cat that’s just had a bath. “Go away”

She hesitates, her hands hovering in the air like she doesn’t know what to do with them. You’d feel bad if you weren’t so irritated by the fact that she exists in the same room as you.

Leah stands up, clearly unsure of what the hell just happened. You’re in a huff, staring daggers at the TV because it’s easier than admitting that you’re not actually mad at her—you’re mad at your body, which seems to have its own agenda these days.

“I’ll, uh, go check on the washing,” Leah mutters, retreating to the relative safety of the utility room. You watch her go with a blend of annoyance and something that feels suspiciously like guilt.

When she’s gone, you sit there for a moment, glaring at the blanket like it’s personally offended you. Then, like a switch flipping back the other way, you realise you miss her.

A lot.

You want her back. Right now.

“Leah!” you call, your voice bouncing off the walls.

She pokes her head back into the room, looking like a cautious meerkat. “Yeah?”

“Come back,” you say, trying to sound casual, like you didn’t just shove her away like she was a sweaty footballer who’d lost a match.

She walks back in, taking tentative steps like she’s entering the lion’s den. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you snap, though you’re really not. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

Leah looks at you, then at the sofa, probably trying to figure out the safest place to sit. You feel a pang of guilt because, honestly, you’re being a bit of a nightmare. But it’s not your fault. It’s the hormones. Or maybe it’s the baby. Yeah, let’s blame the baby.

She sits down next to you, but this time she doesn’t immediately try to touch you. Smart move.

You stare at her, trying to decide what you want. It’s a simple question, but lately, it feels like every answer is wrapped in layers of confusing emotions and unpredictable desires. Do you want to be touched, or do you want to punch something? Or maybe both?

“Can you, um... maybe... rub my back?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as possible, which isn’t easy considering you’ve just done a complete 180 in the span of three minutes.

Leah stares at you for a second, clearly wondering if this is a trap. But then she nods and starts rubbing your back, gently, like she’s afraid of setting you off again. You sigh, melting into the touch, the irritation quickly replaced by something much warmer.

“That’s nice,” you murmur, your mood lifting almost instantly. Leah’s hands are magic, soothing the tension in your muscles. You close your eyes, practically purring under her touch. It’s heaven.

But, of course, your body has other plans. As soon as you start to relax, your brain—helped by the wonderful cocktail of pregnancy hormones—decides to take a sharp left turn into horny territory. Because why not?

Suddenly, Leah’s hands on your back feel less like a comforting gesture and more like a teaser for the latest blockbuster. Your skin tingles, your mind goes from zero to sixty, and now you’re wondering why she’s still rubbing your back when there are other, much more interesting places she could be touching.

You shift, turning to face her, eyes heavy-lidded and lips curving into a mischievous smile. Leah’s still rubbing your back, completely oblivious to the fact that you’ve mentally jumped from cuddly to carnal.

“Hey,” you say, your voice dropping into a lower register. Leah freezes, her hand stilling as she catches the change in your tone.

“What’s up?” she asks, clearly unsure whether she should be worried or excited.

“You’re really good at that,” you purr, leaning closer, letting your hand trail up her thigh. Leah swallows hard, her eyes flickering with confusion and interest.

“I, uh, thanks?” she says, her voice cracking just a little.

You smirk, enjoying the way she’s trying to keep up with the sudden shift in your mood. “You know what else would feel really good?”

Leah stares at you like a deer caught in the headlights of your hormones. “What?”

“Kissing me,” you say simply, giving her your best come-hither look. It’s not your finest work, but considering the circumstances, you think it’s pretty damn effective.

Leah blinks, clearly trying to process the fact that you’ve gone from not wanting to be touched to wanting to be thoroughly touched in about sixty seconds flat. But bless her, she’s a fast learner.

She leans in, pressing her lips to yours, and for a moment, everything is perfect. You’re lost in the kiss, your frustration melting away as your hormones do their job, flooding your system with endorphins.

But then, because the universe has a wicked sense of humor, something feels... wrong. The heat that was so welcome a second ago suddenly feels overwhelming. The tingling sensation turns irritating, and now you’re acutely aware of the fact that your skin is too tight, your clothes are too constricting, and you’re not sure if you want to keep kissing Leah or throw her out of the window.

You pull back, your mood crashing faster than a toddler on a sugar high. Leah looks at you, concern etched into her features, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, like she’s bracing for impact.

You huff, frustrated with yourself more than anything. “I don’t know. I just—” You throw your hands up, exasperated. “Everything feels weird!”

Leah looks at you, trying to figure out the best course of action. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No!” you snap, then immediately soften. “Maybe? I don’t know”

She stares at you for a moment, then does something that surprises you: she laughs. Not a mocking laugh, but a warm, affectionate chuckle that’s so disarming it actually makes you smile, despite everything.

“What’s so funny?” you grumble, even though you’re starting to feel the corners of your mouth twitch upward.

“You,” she says, shaking her head, her smile only growing. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

You want to argue, but instead, you just sigh. “I know. I’m a mess”

“Yeah, but you’re my mess,” Leah says, pulling you back into a hug. This time, it feels just right, like maybe, just maybe, the storm of hormones has passed for now.

You lean into her, letting the comfort of her embrace wash over you. “Thanks for putting up with me”

“Always,” she replies, kissing the top of your head. “Even if you do change your mind every five minutes”

“Every three,” you correct, snuggling deeper into her side.

Leah laughs again, the sound vibrating through you and chasing away the last remnants of your irritation. You know you’ll probably be back to snapping at her in another hour, but for now, you’re content.

[callie-the-creator]

mine all mine

nsfw. mdni. warnings: yandere behavior, friends with benefits, mentions of alcohol consumption, pegging, pet names, oc is a bit of a perv, babytrapping, etc.

author’s note: nothing to sayyy.

• you and sonny have been friends ever since your sophomore year in high school, having met by a mutual friend that is now irrelevant.

— it seemed every time you and this aforementioned mutual friend hung out, sonny would end up joining you two whether that be inviting himself, begging one of you to let him tag along, or ‘coincidently’ popping up at the places you’d be going.

— if sonny could have things his way, it would be just you and him spending time together. no need for extra baggage and adding a third person (which is a bit ironic since he’s usually the one that deemed extra baggage).

• but because sonny’s been your friend for such a long time, he had to endure every partner you’ve ever dated or crush you’ve developed. he knew your type and what you liked, but what sucked was that he wasn’t your boyfriend. how long will it take for you to see that he’s the perfect man for you??

• that is, until one night during your junior year of college when you two exceeded the amount how much alcohol you could consume, sonny could’ve sworn that he died and went to heaven once he saw that lustful look in your eyes. but he knew if he acted on his selfish desires, he’d end up getting hurt. realistically, you’d most likely sweep this night under the rug whilst sonny feels his heart break even more when he sees you with another boy, whether he’s one of sonny’s friends or a stranger.

• but who is sonny kidding? he said ‘screw it’ and agreed to spend the night with you, despite being at some random sorority.

— and, yes, you two having sex inflated his ego majorly. it brought him more ecstasy than anything he’d ever experienced in his life. oh, he’s such a loser!

• the morning after, sonny couldn’t say that he was entirely surprised seeing the empty spot on the bed beside him, but it still cut him like a wound. you ended up explaining over text that you weren’t looking for a relationship right now and whatever happened between you and him, while it was nice, was only a one-time thing.

• or so you thought.

• sonny is an absolute perv and he relishes in that fact. whenever you’re wearing a dress or skirt, he’ll not so discreetly drop something, so he can catch a glimpse of what lingers underneath. and when you’re on vacation or out with some friends, sonny will pick the lock to your dorm room, so he can strip naked, wear one of your shirts, and sniff your panties as he grinds against one of your pillows.

— during one of his visits, sonny takes it upon himself to snoop through your bedside drawers only to find a double-edged dildo. okay, maaaybe he used it once or twice without you knowing. scratch that. he’s used it a total of nine times.

• after knowing this, the next time you and sonny get some alone time, he brings up the idea of pegging, surprising you in the process because you never thought he of all people would be interested in that.

— “actually, i…have a toy that could allow us to do that…” you whispered, almost coy. you’re so cute.

• he loves it whenever you peg him, it makes him feel so special when he’s being used your false cock. sonny would love nothing more than to be stuffed with it, so you can ruin his perfect plump ass.

• it doesn’t matter where you are—in your dorm, in his, in a car, or even in the middle of the woods; sonny will scream, whimper, and moan like a pornstar. did i mention that he was a perv? it’s almost like he wants people to see that you two were having sex, so they’d get the impression to lay off his girl because he’s the only one who can make you feel this good!

• sonny is a whole level of needy. like, flooding your messages and spam calling you in the middle of the night needy. more often than not it’s because he’s horny and wants to have phone sex with you, so he knows you’ll sleep well. all thanks to him.

• he’s a masochist 100%.

— he loves whenever you pull him by the hair to crank his neck back to liter sloppy kisses on his neck.

— loveslovesloves to be spanked!! there are times during the day where he’ll intentionally act like a brat so you will punish him.

— won’t mind if you leave hickeys on his body. he wants to be a display of your love and whoever thinks they can get in the way of that has another thing coming. sonny is not willing to share what is rightfully is. you’re HIS girl!

• note: if you call him pretty boy and good boy, it’ll immediately put him in the mood. do with this information as you please (and tease him in public for goodness sake).

— will not hesitate to fuck you in a mall bathroom if he has to prove a point.

• expect to get lots of praise from him. even though he knows you’re not ready to be in a committed relationship, you know that he has feelings for you (just not the… severity of his love for you. if you can even call it that). a reason why you believe this is that there are some mornings when you’ll wake up with 99+ unread messages from him. no regular fwb would do that…

• still. it was a problem. this was supposed to be a ‘no strings attached’ deal. and that’s exactly what you told him!

• sonny smiled at you and told you that he understood. whaaaa…he wasn’t upset? he even recommended dropping the whole friends-with-benefits deal entirely. under one condition: you have some breakup sex.

• he was surprisingly mature about it. you agreed. this will be done before you know it. sonny was elated that you actually agreed to this and, unable to control himself, leaned down and kissed you as a way to show his thanks before telling you to meet him in the bedroom. he needs to do something first.

• and when you were finally out of his sight, he pulled the condom he planning on using and began to poke holes in it…

there is no way he was going to allow another man to fuck that sweet cunt of yours. looks like he’ll have to breed you to make you alllll his!