#Omg i have so much extra fabric

[hexiquin]

so...I made a thing...

Here they are, Marshmallow!!!

(More photos under the cut)

And here they is with my other plushies

(the grey one is my childhood plush dog that I had ripped the ears and tail off and the other was a crocheted duck my friend made me)

And here is what the inside of their face looks like!

(I kinda want to have more little photoshoots with them)

[pepprs]

excuse the mess im cleaning out our closet lmao but here are some more of my favorite stuffed animals as a kid that ive posted about for tag games before (and some that i haven’t)!

from left to right: curly the tiger, washington dc bear (“washy” for short), lalox the fox, pj the pig, vivian the lion (yes she’s nala lol), reezy the orca whale, and sneakers the puppy :D

[starry-mang0s]

GET PLUSHIED IDOT!! >:]

IM SHAKING

THE BORGIR IS REAL!!

She’s angy. Oh so very angy. All the time.

@shuueep the princess is real!! IVE DONE IT!!

And Ty to @pun-pun-pun who was the first to make a Scrabby plushie!

AHHHHHH IM GONNA CRYYY I LOVE HER SM 😭

Extra lil thoughts, details, and such under the cut :>

OMG IM SO EXCITED!!! SHES REAL!

I didn’t end up giving her a mouth bc I didn’t have a good fabric for it that wouldn’t fray :/

I filled her with silica beads so now she’s like a little beanbag 🥺 she’s perf weight to throw in the air like a small child :>

Man, I love this bug way too much 😔

Idk what to even do with myself now…this is the peak of my artistic achievements! OH!! IMMA MAKE A STRAWBERRY FOR HER!!!

A strabby for da Scrabby ☺️

And next I need to find a nice little jar to seal away this bug like the little cosmic menace she is 😌

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHSKDHAJDJSIDIAODJEKKAKDJAKDSKJAKDKALDJDKFKSJSJDLAAAPDKFJ

She’s so smol 🥺

[sukunasweetheart]

Imagine you and sukuna having a son, but some time throughout in kindergarten he gets really invested into hello kitty. So you go out with your son to buy some hello kitty shirts that he can wear to kindergarten! He’s overly thrilled and excited and starts to get into the pink bows too, wanting a hello kitty bag as well 😭 you of course can’t deny your sweet baby.

The next day you come to pick up your son from kindergarten, he runs up to you excited to see his mom. As you hug your son back, you fail to notice two other parents coming up from behind your son with their kid walking hand in hand. You’re a bit surprised when you hear them laughing, saying “so this is s/n’s mom,” you pull away from your son standing up to face them properly, this comment alone making you pull your son close to your legs, a scowl forming in your face when you hear the mother of the couple say, “I don’t know about you, but I find it a bit..let’s say risky to let your son walk out like that. I mean hello kitty-?” The woman was close to finishing her sentence but got interrupted by her own laughter of arrogance. Her partner and her child slowly joining in as your son can’t help but lower his head in shame.

Just as you’re about to say something, you feel a reassuring hand you know all too well rest in between the space of your neck and shoulders, pulling you into the very comfort of your husbands chest. “Are you this insecure to laugh at a 6 year old about a shirt he fuckin’ likes?”

He talks back from behind you, the couple’s smile fading away at a pace so quick it had you pressing your lips together holding back a chuckle from coming out. The parents on the other side take in his rough, buff appearance, his white buttoned up shirt tucked in lazily into his black slacks, the fabric pressing onto his toned thighs. His sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny forearms and the hard to miss tattoos. His outfit clearly missing of a fitting jacket and a tie that he’s gotten rid of not too long ago, seemingly just coming back from work. Their gaze shift back to his face, a tired yet hard glare drilling right into their very skulls, the man on the other side visually intimidated, swallowing out of nervousness as he took in Sukuna’s slicked back, peach colored hair, a few strands falling onto his forehead, the result of his hands always messing with it after a long day at the office.

Instead of a snarky comment, the couple retreats back, knowing better than to start a fight with Sukuna and his family as the husband pulls his kid and his wife away from the lingering glare that towers above you.

Your son shoots his head back up screaming in excitement when he sees his father, asking to be picked up. Walking back to the car, you could only do so much but smile when you overheard Sukuna giving his son a mild scolding for not standing up for himself. You however had to interject when Sukuna started his ramble about how his son needs to beat up the kids that pick on him for liking hello kitty-

The next day it’s only Sukuna picking up his son, standing with his arms crossed in front of the entrance with some of the other parents, who couldn’t help but steal a judgmental peek at the man. But it wasn’t the tattoos nor his in general rough and intimidating looks that threw them off.

It was when they saw a little copy of Sukuna, undeniably his son running out of the door, his cute pink hello kitty shirt resembling that of his father’s that they started to get the message.

The husband from the other day going the extra route to avoid stumbling into the buff tattooed man wearing a pink hello kitty shirt

(feel free to add some things to it 🤭 I’m just a sucker for sukuna x hello kitty it’s no surprise that his son starts to get into it too 😭)

RRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH this is what im talkin abt, this is what i loveee :( omg this was soo so so so cute thank you anon.... its like a wake up call for me to write about dadkuna as well too, hes been on my mind lately....

youd think snobby parents that cant mind their own businesses are a rare case but actually there r so many annoying people in this world!! im so glad sukuna shoved them off KYYAAA

and this outfit?????????/ dont even get me started-

i love our son but my favourite ever is girldad sukuna, i imagine them putting lovely hairpins into his nice pink hair, and squealing about how good it looks- i'll continue this in another post ;)

[wegc]

All of this perv! Talk is getting me 🫠🤤

I love the way you write Chan but how do you think the other boys would be as pervs

I feel like Han would be the nastiest perv

Seungmin would be secret like taking upskirt photos and stuff

Minho would be possessive as hellll

But let me know what you think, doesn’t need to be a full think if you want just some thoughts

Love the work you put out, can’t wait for more!🧡

If it’s available can I be 🧡anon?

first of all, thank you so much🥹

and YES omg, i agree with you completely. jisung and minho (i think) would be the nastiest and would be the only two with absolutely no shame in what they’re doing (especially minho hehe).

jisung holds first place for panty stealing and shows no remorse when he encounters you looking for them! i can picture him purchasing a cute gift box that contains all your stolen underwear—articles of cotton and lace fabric messily shoved in there.

he also definitely takes photos of you in compromising positions and fists his little cock to them, moaning and whining loudly, with zero intent to secrete what he’s doing.

and seungmin taking up-skirt photos omg. he finds you so captivating when you’re dressed up girlishly, and skirts are his absolute favourite, not only because you look so lovely, but because you’re extra accessible. he can’t help but stand behind you, pretending to look for something as he takes quick photos of your covered cunt to keep for later (he prays one day that he’ll catch you naked under the skirt).

i can also see seungmin grinding his hard-on against your ass whenever you’re sitting on his lap, sighing and squeezing your hips firmly as you look behind to stare at him curiously.

minho would be so possessive, oh my gosh.

i can picture him trying to figure out your cellphone password in hopes of discovering nudes in there when you’re not around.

once he ultimately figures it out, he steals your phone as you’re sleeping and impatiently unlocks your hidden photos, his cock swelling upon uncovering hundreds of photos of your tits and cunt—photos of you in lingerie, videos of you fucking yourself—holy shit, he thinks, were you always such a fucking slut?

he immediately sends them to himself and deletes the chat afterwards to keep you from finding out.

after scrolling through all of your photos and having his fair share of pleasure jerking himself off to all of them, he looks through the rest of your phone late into dusk, dedicating hours to examining your messages, social media, etc. who just followed you? who did you just call?

he feels himself grow irritated with the number of men you speak to, not many to the average individual but enough for lee minho—you didn’t send any of them your nudes, right?

whatever, whether you did or didn’t, you certainly weren’t going to anymore—not when he’s blocking every single man he’s concerned about from your phone. he’ll confess to you soon anyway—you’re already his, as far as he’s concerned.

[kozachenko]

[Click image for better quality]

I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD

Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)

[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof

Artist's Note:

I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.

I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.

Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).

I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.

I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.

Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.

In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.

[buckyalpine]

So for the Untouched AU have you thought about any of these scenarios? Film themselves having sex, using whipped cream or chocolate, try getting tied up (either one of them but y/n would be my choice), give y/n a nipple-only orgasm, role playing, try edging, order a sex toy online after they search the site for things they wanna try together, tease each other all week with sexting during class, sending pics/videos to each other. I know. Just a few thoughts…🙄

18+

Bucky x f reader (Steve's sister,  if you’re like me, add the caveat of being an adopted sister)

Sex tapes with our Untouched babies? The answer to this is hell yes. These babies are learning everything together. Nudes. Edging. Sex tapes included. Can be read as a standalone.  

Warnings: Smutty smut, fluffy fluff, shy reader, sending nudes, sex tapes

The first nudes 

It started off with a few sexy pics. 

He’d send you a pic of him in his grey sweats after the gym. There’s no way to hide his boner, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric. 

Shirtless pics. 

Fresh out the shower, towel hanging low pics. 

He didn't want to pressure you to send anything so he doesn’t even ask, happy to tease and tempt you instead. Quite honestly he regretted sending you anything in the first place because the second you sent him something with a little extra cleavage he had to hold his school bag against his lap to contain his boner.

The first time he sent you nudes was after he’d spent the whole day struggling to keep his hands to himself after you’d paraded around the house in a tiny sundress. He’d come over to play video games, gritting his teeth each time you came over to you brothers room to bring up their pizza and drinks, petting his hair on your way out. He couldn’t focus on a damn thing, his mind clouded with your bare thighs and the glance he got of your tiny panties from where he was sitting, only coming to his senses when Steve threw the controller at his head. 

At least keep it in your goddamn pants when I’m around punk

As soon as he was home, he pulled his pants off, grabbing his phone, showing off his leaking cock, throbbing, the tip glistening without him touching himself.

My Bucky: See what you do to me? 

Babydoll: OMG BUCKY  🙈

My Bucky: It’s fucking leaking sweets, fuck I need you

Babydoll: Serves you right, perving all day  🙄

M Bucky: You’re the one who teased me, come make it go away  🥺️

You giggled, your face heating up, feeling a little frisky, butterflies erupting around your tummy when he sent you another pic, this time with his balls, legs spread. You pulled your dress up, pulling your panties to the side, giving him the perfect view of your glistening cunt, your heart racing after you hit send. 

Babydoll: Take care of me first 

My Bucky: God Damn.

My Bucky: Fuck babydoll

My Bucky: Not fair, let me come over doll, please?

5 minutes later

My Bucky: I’m outside.

That started it. Bucky didn’t hesitate to show you exactly what you did to him and how hard he was, always ready to show you exactly how turned on he was for you. Study room. His car. Bed. It was fine until he’d nearly gotten caught twice, always scrambling to yank his pants back up, the tell tale blush on his face giving him away. 

“Bucky had his dick out again”

“For fucks sake Barnes” 

“You’re both something else, I swear” 

“This is why we call you Bucknasty” 

“You nasty hoe” 

“Shut up Sam”

Your nudes drove Bucky feral and he’d nearly came in his pants the first time you sent him something in lingerie. He whimpered as soon as he opened the message, struggling not to palm himself, his eyes nearly crossing seeing you encased beautifully in the dark lace, the sheer material hardly covering your nipples and your perfect cunt. He may or may not have left class to rub one out, but it didn’t do much, his cock continued to twitch until he had you spread out on his bed. Your nudes are precious gold to him and he treasures every single one with his life. His beautiful doll in her bare form, all just for him. 

The first time edging 

“Sweet girl, please?” 

“You’re pretty when you beg baby” 

You were on top of Bucky, winding your hips down on him, watching his beautiful fucked out face, his skin flushed, lip chewed from how hard he was focusing. He had a bruising grip on your thighs, his cock throbbing from how badly he wanted to cum. You had made him hold it, bringing him close to the edge only to stop his orgasm right at the tip, his cock swollen and desperate. 

“F-fuck, I can’t y/n” He nearly sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut. You felt your stomach clench, watching his perfect face contort, his brows furrowed, trying so hard to force himself from cumming. “Baby, s’too much, I wanna cum, let me cum, I can’t hold it” 

“Y-yes you can” You continued to bounce on his cock, your high pitched whines making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm. You’d been curious about edging for a while, wanting to give Bucky the most intense pleasure of his life, not realizing it’d be just as amazing for you. Your slick dripped all over his crotch, his balls covered in your arousal. 

“C’mon, I know you wanna cum, let’s cum together baby, please” He pleaded with you, choking at the way your pussy squeezed and fluttered around him, your own orgasm waiting to snap. You whimpered, gasping when he snaked his hand to play with your clit, a pornographic moan slipping from your lip as he rubbed perfect circles. 

“Does that feel good doll? You gonna cum with me?”  

“FUCK BUCKY” You gave into the pleasure he toyed with, your muscles tensed as he started to fuck up into you from underneath, his cock growing harder. “I-shit-

“Let go with me doll, cum with me, I got you” Bucky grabbed your hips, slamming you down onto his cock while he thrusted upwards, his back nearly arching off the bed. You moaned, your body giving way and falling limp, letting him pound from underneath you, the sounds of skin slapping growing louder. 

“I’m gonna cum Bucky!” You started to flutter around his cock, your juices soaked him again as you came on his cock. Bucky let out a strained moan feeling you squeeze him, his pace growing sloppy as he pushed in as deep as he could. 

“Fuckffuck thankyouthankyou, oh god, gonna c- AH FUCKKK” Bucky wrapped his arms around you, stilling as he cock throbbed, cum pumping into your pussy while he whined and whimpered under you. He refused to move afterwards, keeping his cock warm inside you while you both cuddled under his sheets, his face buried into the crook of your neck. 

“Bubba, you have to pull out at some point” You giggled, playing with his hair while he shook his head, keeping his flushed face hidden. 

“Sensitive” He whispered, staying inside your warmth, a new idea coming to mind, “We should try rope next time” 

The first time using rope 

“You sure you okay with this bubba?” Bucky checked the ties again, making sure they were comfortable around your wrists, his thumb stroking your cheek while you looked up at him with love and adoration. No matter what it was he wanted to do, your comfort had always come first. 

That being said, something about having you tied up had made Bucky extra feral. He loved the way you trusted him, your pretty doe eyes shying away from him while you were bare in his bed. 

“You-you look so pretty tied up like this for me baby” Bucky whispered, kissing your lips sweetly while you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together, your clit throbbing. You felt a shiver, naked on his bed while he still had his clothes on, admiring your pretty form as if you were a present just for him. 

He stripped his clothes off while keeping his eyes locked with yours, crawling onto the bed and tossing your legs apart, licking his lips before kissing your inner thigh. 

“Gonna let me play with this pretty pussy baby?” Bucky didn’t waste a second, his tongue laving and drinking every bit of your sweetness, loving the way your squirmed each time he flicked at your clit. 

“Fuck Bucky!” Your back bowed off the bed as he latched onto your clit, suckling, practically nursing off you, moaning as he kept his lips sealed around your sensitive bud. He pulled away from you, untying the rope, just to manhandle you and shove your face into the mattress with your ass in the air. You yelped, feeling his hand spank your ass, grabbing both hands and tying them again, holding onto your wrists as leverage as he brought his cock to your entrance.

“Scream for me baby” He gave you a wolfish grin, glancing at the mirror that was off to the side of the bed, the more you squirmed, the more his cock leaked. “Can’t run from my cock now so take it” He shoved his cock into you, pounding into you, letting his balls hit your clit with each thrust, grunting and groaning. 

“S’too much” Your eyes rolled back, the coil in your belly winding tighter as he pressed his hand to your shoulder blades making his cock his deeper. You cried out, your pussy squelching, your juices making a mess on his thighs. “I’m gonna cum Bucky, pleasee-” 

“Fuck, you gonna cum without me even touching you baby? Don’t even need me to rub that pretty pearl of yours, you gonna cum just from my cock fucking you? You can take it baby, you’re my good girl” Bucky’s voice was low, nearly breathless, his cock throbbing, reeling over how the rope felt as he held onto your tied hands, his perfect beautiful doll, helplessly crying over his cock. “Hold it baby, fuckin’ hold it” 

“Wanna cum James, p-please, wanna cum” You couldn’t even hold it any more, your pussy already starting to flutter. Your moans were muffled against the sheets, your trembling body a sign you were close. 

“Together, jus-jus’ fuckin hold it sweets, that’s it, my good girl, my good fuckin’ girl, m’gonna fill you up okay?” Bucky rubbed up and down your spine, his head thrown back. “Gonna make you feel so good, give you all the cum you want babydoll, cum now baby, cum right fucking now!”

“Give me your cum James” You cried out, your orgasm ripping through you right on his command. Your pussy was desperate to milk every drop of his cum, squeezing and pulsing around him making it harder for him to move. 

“Oh fuck, you have no idea, I’m gonna give it to you doll, gonna give you so much, so much, SO FUCKING MUCH FUCK-” Bucky slammed into you, grabbing your hips and holding still as his cock throbbed, desperately moaning as he filled you up. He untied your wrists, still panting and sensitive from his climax, pulling you up to cuddle up with him. 

“Did I do good Bucky” You mumbled against him, your face buried in his chest, nearly falling asleep instantly at his ministrations. 

“Did so good for me my angel, so perfect” He stroked your hair, kissing your face while you nuzzled against him, his hands gently massaging the indents of the rope of your wrists. “My perfect good girl”

The first sex tape 

Bucky can't help himself, wanting to capture some of those intimate moments with you for just his viewing pleasure. It didn’t matter if he was making soft love to you or railing the fuck out of you, he wanted to go back to every single moment and capture how perfect you were for him, how perfect you looked together. He wanted to see how gorgeous you looked when you were filled up with his cock, how your pretty face contorted with pleasure with him deep inside you. 

You knew he wanted something when he spent the whole day being needy, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 

“Wanna make a sex tape with you” He whispered, his cheeks blushing. 

"Buckyyy" You covered your face when he brought it up, your cheeks heating up at the idea; you weren’t against it but you still felt self conscious. Bucky pulled you into his lap, cupping your cheek to make you look at him, kissing you before speaking again. 

"Promise no one else will see it sweets, we won't do it if you're no comfortable with it though" He smiled softly and you knew he meant it. Not once had he ever pressured you into doing something you didn't like.

He waited for the day where you felt comfortable. His whole body buzzed with anticipation, noting that you were much more shy, staying curled up in bed, trying to cover yourself up. Bucky propped his phone up, letting it rest on the dresser while he crawled into bed, draping his body over yours, keeping you covered. 

“You sure you okay with this pretty baby?” He whispered, his nose gently bumping against yours. You felt your face heat up, nodding and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m sure”

“Can-can I eat you out first?” 

Your eyes grew wide for a moment before you said yes, your breath hitching in your throat as he slowly trailed kisses down your body, starting at your neck, stopping to take your nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around, nipping them before continuing down. His broad shoulders still kept you partially covered, his sculpted ass flexing as he grinded against the mattress, moaning as soon as his tongue tasted your slick. He came back up, crashing his lips against yours letting you taste yourself, moaning when he felt your legs come to wrap around his waist.

“How do you want it baby” His cock brushed against your pussy, the tip leaking, “You want it soft or hard?” 

“Soft please” You whispered, biting your lip as he smiled, kissing your forehead while lining his cock up, rubbing the tip, letting it catch your hole. His eyes rolled back feeling you fluttering already, his whole body keeping you covered. You relaxed under his body weight, gasping as he filled you up, your pussy fluttering over the roll of his hips. You whimpered, trying to keep your moans down, your nails scratching down his back instead, pleasure overwhelming you. 

“Let me hear you sweet girl” He whispered, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking the sensitive flesh, coaxing a whine out of you. “You sound so beautiful when you moan for my cock baby”  You couldn’t help but cry out for him as he sped his thrusts up, bringing his knee up, his cock rubbing and kissing that sensitive spot deep inside you.

“Jamesss” You were finding it harder and harder to silence yourself, soft moans starting to slip from your lips. Bucky’s hands came to lace with yours, pinning them on the bed, squeezing them as he barely pulled out, keeping you full of him. 

“You feel my cock deep inside you baby?” Bucky’s intense gaze made you feel shy again, overwhelmed with the pleasure he was giving you, how intimate the moment was, how you felt him everywhere, all over. 

“So deep B-Bucky” Your voice was shaky, struggling to keep yourself from tipping off the edge, gripping onto his hands instead. 

“I know princess, doing so good for me, you make me feel so good” Bucky kissed you until he had to come up for air, panting and resting his forehead onto yours. “Do I make you feel good babygirl? Does my cock make you feel good?”

All you could do was moan, unable to formulate words as he fucked you harder, is thrusts pushing all the way into you. Bucky groaned at the way your jaw was slack, your body trembling under him, thighs squeezing him, you were close, trying so hard not to cum. 

“You like my cock in your pussy huh angel? Look at how beautiful you are right now doll, Love making you feel good doll, wanna make you feel good every. single. day” Bucky’s pace started to grow sloppy, his breaths getting heavier. 

“Gonna watch this over and over and make myself cum every time I can’t have you pretty girl” 

The thought of Bucky watching your sex tape while touching himself was too much, heat coursing through your body, your pussy starting to suck him deeper. 

“FUCK JAMES” 

“That’s right baby, say my name, wanna hear you scream for me when I make you cum, c’mon, scream my name baby, let go” Bucky picked up his back, moaning into your neck, struggling to hold his own pleasure off until you came first. “Cum baby, m’not gonna last” 

“J-JAMESS” You sobbed, your back bowing off the bed, pressing against his chest, your eyes rolling back. Your let out a pornographic moan, cumming all over his cock, your slick gushing out of you as he continued to fuck you through your high. 

“Gonna cum for you baby, take it sweet heart, take my cum, take it, take it- oh fucckkk” All the muscles in his body were pulled taut, stilling as his cock throbbed shooting his load inside you. He cuddles with you for a bit, still staying inside you before finally pulling out, making sure he still covers up most of you before grabbing his phone to stop recording. 

After the first sex tape, you get a little more comfortable and also more frisky. Bucky records just about anything whenever he gets the chance.

His favorite tapes are the ones where he can see your face and see the way you look at him. It makes him feel butterflies, blushing as he looks back, your pretty eyes always shyly gazing at him even when he doesn’t notice. 

His absolute favorite video is the one from the shower where theres so much steam, it’s a little fuzzy but it makes the moment so much more intimate. He has your legs around his waist, water dripping off your bodies, your back against the shower wall. Your moans echo and bounce off the walls significantly louder, mixed with the sound of the shower.

He also has a few prized ones that he will guard with his life. Ones that would make him cum without touching himself. 

“Smile for the camera my little slut” Bucky’s voice all you can hear, his phone focused on you while you lay on his bed, your hair messy and tousled, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. 

You blink up with doe eyes, your tongue darting up to lick up the cum dripping from your lips, his load covering your face. You run your finger through the mess he’s made, sucking it off, giving him an innocent giggle. Bucky groaned, panning the camera down to capture the way hes stroking his spent cock, growing hard again because you look so sexy covered in him. 

“Got my dick all sensitive baby, made me cum so hard” He smirked, bringing his semi hard cock to your lips, pushing the tip for you to suckle on. “That’s it, my good girl, my little cum princess drinking up like a good girl” 

You whined, still playing with the cum that covered you, letting him record the way you took his load, coating your fingers and fingering yourself, rubbing your clit after. Bucky spread your legs apart, capturing the way your fluttering pussy dripped onto the bed, your cream messy between your thighs. He makes you hold his phone so you can record the way he cleans the mess up, his chestnut hair between your legs, arms holding you down. 

You can hardly focus on keeping the camera steady but you get every single minute of the way he moans and greedily licks up the mixed arousal pouring out of you. You nearly loose your mind at the way he lets his eyes roll back, telling you how perfect you taste together, crawling up to kiss you, making your more messy than before. 

“Let’s make a sequel?” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan​  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec​   @pono-pura-vida​   @moonlightreader649​ @brooklynscherry-z​  @elle14-blog1​ @justsebstan​ @littlelightnings​ @psychomanniac-blog​  @happyt0exist​   @emmabarnes​  @bethyruth​ @matchat3a​  @cjand10​   @getwellsoontana​  @cherryschaos​   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen​  @ashenc-blog​  @buckybarnessimpp​   @potatothots​  @goldylions​  @high-functioning-lokipath​ @morganemorganite-blog​  @kingfleury​   @peaches1958​   @spiderman-stilinski​   @peaceinourtime82​  @gublur​   @wintersmelodie​ @geeky-politics-46​   @lolawassad​  @almosttoopizza​   @a-poor-gryffindork​ @alternativeprincess​   @buckycallsmeaslut​    @kamaria-sweet-writes​  @charmedbysarge​    @xnorthstar3x​  @kryoee7​ @alina02​  @gh0stgurl​    @polishprincess999​ @jessybarnes​ @alltheficsiwant​ @chemtrails-club​  @eralen​   @perdidosbucky-yyo​  @clqrosmgc​      

[kyloherrera]

How would MASHLE boys react to you eating icecream in a erotic way in front of them.

cw. Slighty suggestive, fluff, blowjob, fem!reader, chocking

an. omg, friends my first post of mashle. well nothing to say I love this anime but love more mash so probaly a fic, and a series and more are coming soon! Also remember to like, comment, reblog, follow for more mash content. It really makes the difference <3. Also I will write based on the character as we see him in the anime cause' i havent read the manga.

ft. mash, lance, finn, dot, abel, rayne, abyss

MASHLE MASTERLIST & MASHLE TAGLIST

#MASH!

When he saw you eat your icecream like that he just make a confusse expression, he didn't understand you, so he titled his head a little, he raised his hand to ask you but instead of that he thought that you we're licking it like that because it was the most delicious icecream in the world, so he licked it but then he didn't find the answer. "I don't understand, why are you licking it like it? creampuffs taste way better than this." You just blushed and looked away, ashamed that he didn't notice, but then you heard the rest of the comment and sigh, it was mash just being mash.

#FINN!

When you where in your date you two bought icecreams, and finn invited you, since you have never try sex you taught that this was an opportunity to turn him on, and an extra point was that you were wearing something that let him see a peak of your boobs, of course when he noticed he couldn't help but look away with a red face. So you started seductively eating the icecream to then let the drops fall in your boobs, finn just look like he was a tomato, when he saw you do that, but then he looked at you and said. "y-you are doing it wrong" He said while turning away. and just answer him, "I know baby."

#LANCE!

When you decided to tease him, you weren't hoping it will turn out the way it did. Lance decided to make icecreams for your birthday party and you decided to use this opportunity to tease even tought it were in all of front of your friends. You started to lick the tip of the icecream has it were the tip of his dick. Lance gaze's didn't moved from you from all the party with a cold deadly grin, he was planning on how to get revenge for provoking him and make his the fabric of his boxer thight in such a pressure he couldn't handle, of course he trained a lot his patience when he teached his friends so he could hold a little bit but when the pressure was way too much he excused himself to go to the bathroom and jack off. You just smiled in such a satisfactory and cocky way, and Dot noticed what you too where doing, but you couldn't care less, but after Lance came back he cryied to him that he was too lucky to get such a beautiful girl to get him to tease him like that and by the way you licked your icecream you were such a goddess. That made Lance to give him the most deadly gaze and to even lift his wand ready to attack him, if he weren't for Lemon your room will probably end up a mess and destroyed. After your party he make you choke in his dick so bad that the only thing you could think off was his cock. And he even slap you when you were talking or smiling because he wanted to erase that cocky smile from your face.

#DOT!

You two were alone on a summer date and because of that you brought a strapless and u-shaped t-shirt giving him a peak of your boobs, he tryied to look other way that weren't your boobs but he couldn't help and he tought he was making it discrete but the reality is that anyone has notice that the first part that he looked at were your boobs. After that he bought you an icecream because that was his manual of dates said and you with an evil grin, just started to licking it with like it was a dick, Dot just try to articulate words but a redness cover his face and someblood started to fell under his nose . "You.. You, a-are d-oing it w-wro-ong" He said while looking away and lowering his tshirth with his hand so you couldn't notice the erection. "I know" you just smiled at him. You then choke on your icecream like you were chocking on a dick even though everyone was looking at you but you couldn't care less. Then he started shaking his head up and down, hitting himself with his hand. "It can be its just like in the porn movies." He said to himself and you couldn't help but laugh and whisper him "exactly." he just fell to the ground and said again to himself "Know I can die in peace" He said to just close his eyes and play dead.

#ABEL!

You two where in a date, and it was weird to no see abyss with him but he told you that you wanted some alone time with you, and you told him that you wanted and icecream and he almost bought all of the flavors that were avaible, until you told him that it wasn't neccesary. Then you too seat on a bank togheter and you started to lick it, it was your opportunity to turn him on since he had never been horny. So you made circles around the tip of the ice cream and he just looked at you confused. "What are you doing?". "Nothing you wouldn't like" You answer him. And after you two were at the school he make you swallow and lick his dick exactly the same.

#ABYSS!

You were sitting on a bank with him icecream on your hand, and you were holding hands, he had a slighty blush on his face since he had never experience love or physical touch before. But then you started to turn things naughty, he just looked away while you eating the icecream in such a seductive way that you could seduce anyone, he just looked away face more red. But you could notice his hand holding you tighter. But then he notice the bulge over his pants and look at you. "My lady can you stop?." He looked away a face more red. "Because if you don't I don't know if I am gonna be able to hold myself."

#RAYNE!

Since he was a divine visionary, he was very busy so dates with him were every one or two months, every two months it was a cute date and every one month was a date to just fuck you, but it came one time when he take you out to the cinema, a place in which you can both have some privacy, he was a wealthy man so he bought you anything you want even an icecream. You then started the movie and even though you weren't trying to provoke him, but the led noices were turning him on. So then he grabbed your chin and make you look at him, to then whisper. "Such a lewd girl, doing all of this because she is desperate of tasting his master's cock, want master to choke you on his cuck in front of all these people?" You just say no with your head, you didn't want to damage all of his reputation. He just choke you with his hand "Don't tell me what to do bunny, a pet doesn't get a saying on this." You could feel your legs already going weak as the way his voice ring in your ear. So he just take you the bathroom and make you suck his cock while he chocked you feeling his cock down you throat.

Like and reblog for more characters and pt.2 !

[princessbrunette]

omg imagine “innocent” reader bsf jj dynamic, after she helped her with her sore boobs and all the pogues are in the twinkie and she just pouts at jj and says “jay might need your help, they’re sore again” gesturing to her nipples and before she can continue jj’s just like “okok stop yeah” glancing around flushed at the other pogues who are looking at him suggestively

it was especially warm and balmy that day, maybe that’s why your boobs felt extra heavy, sore to the touch inside the fabric of your bra. you quietly groan, uncomfortable from sitting in the same place for so long in the twinkie. the bouncing of the wheels driving over small potholes probably wasn’t helping your ache, pope carelessly speeding through country lanes behind the wheel. JJ sits opposite you, not paying much attention to the groan, assuming it’s from the heat when you tip your head back on the neck rest, huffing out a sigh. the blonde simply turns around to look out the windshield, drumming on the back of john b’s passenger seat.

the van bounces over another pothole and you wince, lifting your head with a pout.

“pope, can you please drive a little more carefully. i’m in pain.” you complain.

“you good?” john b swivels in his seat to look back at you for a moment, observing your uncomfortable expression.

“think my menzies are comin’ up. my boobs have been killing me.” you suddenly direct your attention to the blonde. “jayj, think m’gonna need your help again tonight.” you groan, slumping against the side of the van clutching your chest.

“shh, hey now.” jj awkwardly reprimands, coughing and busying himself with stabbing the carpet of the van with his finger, cringing as he feels john b turn back around.

“help— help with what? what did jj…” he frowns in confusion, and jj knows there’s nothing he can do to stop your mouth from innocently revealing your little secret.

“well, i was having boob pain the other night n’ i couldn’t sleep and—”

“you dont have to… say all that—” he tries to interject quietly, but it’s useless.

“— and jj was kind enough to use his magic hands on me. well, and his mouth. he was really good! i slept like a baby!” you smile gleefully at the memory like it was nothing. popes eyes widen, not even bothering to engage whilst john b is bursting into shocked laughter, turning around and smacking JJ on the back.

“damn, JJ— that true? you got magic hands?” he laughs, unable to pick his jaw off the ground. jj’s lips purse shamefully before he rolls his eyes and nods, resisting a chuckle of his own.

“yes—yeah, it’s true—hey! i’m being helpful, a’ight! s’what good friends do!” he defends, raising his voice over john b’s laughter, pope muttering a ‘jesus’ to himself at some point.

kie sits up from her lounged position across the seats with a disgusted expression, glancing between the two of you. “are you serious? thats gross. you two are like, breaking every pogue rule, you know that right?” she accuses tiredly. a mischievous smile breaks across jj’s face, and kie’s expression instantly flattens, knowing he’s cooking something devious to say in response.

“hey, suckin’ on some good ol’ titties ain’t breaking any rules.” he holds his hands up, making the van break out into more chaos as you giggle in confusion. you didn’t see what the big deal was, but you’ll let them have their fun.

[kichiyosh1]

Finally free from lots of work and chore aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

(Just for the heads up, I'm really sorry for the rant I instead doing than ramble ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄)

The next part of deceitfully your mak3 me scream, lord I need a man like cross dress scaramouche. He's creepy but I love him.

Also a thought about cross dress scara.

Imagine him getting popular among girls and them keep asking for him to hang out with the girl, he was annoyed consider whenever he ask for you to also join, the other girls were somehow surprise and down. (just imagine the popular mean girl group ask him to join but he also include you)

Imagine scara who realize not many people like you because you didn't share the same opinion about boys, some say your just asking for attention by pretending to be scared. Oh how he wish he can just beat all of those word back to their mouth, how dare they?!? Saying stuff like that about you! Only he can do that! is what he thought when he hear the nasty rumor.

Cross dress scara who keep asking the teacher if he can be place near you always, need a group? Oh can you be so kind to place me with [name]?, have some project? Oh [name] be my project partner. Ect Ect.

Also the though of cross dress scara who make 2 lunch when he realize you keep buying the cafeteria food. He says he accidentally made more for him and his sister, while in reality he go so much as far to ask you about your favorite food (how much you like your egg done is, how much rice you would like, how much seasoning and so on with the detail) while you didn't notice too much about the topic when the two of you were going home from school. Him who make an 'extra turbo maximum pro efforts' with your lunch and he has a decent effort lunch while his sister has the leftover of all the ingredient he just use (you= a cute bear/cat/character you like with many side dish like meat and vegetable, him= a decent mean any other human eats normally, his sister= anything scrap, but still presentable. Half an egg roll? Sure why not put it in a place where it look like it's full. (she can't complain to her mother because none of them can't cooked))

Cross dress scaramouche who keep getting popular and popular the more day he going to the school. Who always have girls looking up at him while he deceitfully fool all of them. He who have visit your house and meet the sole reason why you have a very close minded to men. Him who butter up your mom to make her thrust him enough that he will protect you from other men harms. Him who now remeber your emergency house key placement after your mother thrust him enough to protect you. Him who keep suggesting you had a sleep over with him in your house while you play it like a normal thing to do.

Cross dress scara who definitely hug you form behind while you were asleep when he sleep over, making sure the door was close and he got a recorder to record you while you sleep. Who brought camera to take your sleeping face (like his wall is not full enough with your picture now), he who take a peek at your bathroom and noted the many different products like sampo and soap you use so he can also use the same one.

My head is SOO full of cross dress scara to the point I wish he was real OMG I need him he's creepy and kinda gross but I need him.

➡(link for au)

Rei you legit just wrote the most jaw dropping scenarios for this au and I'm loving it!

note: He is viewed as a 'girl' from other's point of view

〰〰〰

When the other girls try to invite him over to their table he'll try to politely decline at first, saying he has somewhere else he has to be yet they're always so persistent to the point he has to clench the fabric of his skirt in order to ground himself. Besides, why would he want to hangout with a herd of stuck up girls when he can be—

as if on cue, you walk through the doors of the cafeteria

"come on, we really don't mind if you sit here and-" he was already walking away, his focus solely on you as you gave him a small wave when you noticed him approaching you. "[y/n], perfect timing. Luckily for you I was able to snag us a table before all the seats were taken." he says taking ahold of your hand and leading you to the table he's previously been at. The girls tried to hide their shocked expression when Scara brought you to their table, both from how he so nonchalantly ignored them just now and because out of all the people he decided to befriend it just had to be you.

Scara was aware that some of the girls in the school disliked you for disliking boys, often hearing how they whispered about how weird you were for being the way that you are, and it takes every fiber in his body just to hold back and to not shove the student's binder notebook down their throat and tell them to shut up and mind their own damn business.

The quick switch from his crescent-eyed smile directed at you to his disinterested gaze looking back to them made a shiver crawl down their spine. One of the girls fakes a cough, trying to get your guys' attention.

"You sure are lucky we saved you a seat, huh Scara?" his eyes twitched wanting to scrape his name off of the girl's tongue. "Yes, though it would seem there aren't anymore seats left for you guys." The look of confusion passed around the table left even you slightly baffled by what Scara said. A loud thud resounded around the space when his hand collided on top of the table as he gave them a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Get lost."

It's also common for him to find excuses in order to just be in the same group and or partnership with you for projects. Fr the type to pull out a whole ass presentation about "100 and more in counting reasons why me and [y/n] were made for each other should be group partners." at this point the teacher doesn't even bother stopping him from suddenly declaring himself a part of your group or him transfering you to the group he's already in. cheeky little thing.

I'd like to think he's terrible at cooking, but he gave it a shot and got better and better the more he realized you liked his cooking. The little goofy smile on his face whenever you complimented the meal he made for you. He does disregard your questions as to what he was going to eat for

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

I don't mind the rant one bit, so please don't apologize!

I promised myself I wouldn't write anything and just react to what you sent but i couldn't help myself

૧(ꂹີωꂹີૂ)

The more I read and read the more my imagination started to flourish with your amazing headcannons. He just wants to love and be loved by you that his actions go from cute to overly obsessive without him even realizing it (he doesn't even think watching you sleep is crazy!).

Overall he does have good intentions but his methods of expressing them are definitely interesting.

I might write a few more headcannons for this ask so thank you for sending it in rei :)

[c-e-d-dreamer]

When We Howl, The Moon Will Cower: Chapter 2

A/N: Omg, we're back again! Apologies for the delay in this chapter. The holidays and my fic exchange fic took priority and then this chapter just really got away from me. Like really got away from me. Like almost 7k words got away from me 😅 But! I hope everyone enjoys! This chapter includes Nessian properly interacting and smut! As a warning, due to the arranged marriage aspect of this fic, I've tagged this as dubious consent, so please do read with care.

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Cassian

Cassian straightens out the cuffs of his sleeves, rolling his shoulders back. The formal attire feels tight and constrictive against his skin, and the urge to tug at the fabric more gnaws at the back of his mind, has his fingers flexing and twitching. He’s always hated this sort of pomp and circumstance, always felt this sort of frivolity was better suited to Rhys and his vampires.

He’d give anything to shed the black shirt and jacket, to escape this too small building and the pressures squeezing in around him. He’d give anything to escape back to the woods that surround the pack village. To tip his head back and take a deep breath of the sweet, earthy scent. To feel the wind whispering between the trees and across his skin. To feel that peace he’s only ever found in that space.

But that’s simply not possible. He’s the alpha. He has to think of his pack, has to shoulder these expectations for them, for the war he knows is coming to their door.

With a soft sigh, Cassian steps over to the mirror leaning against the wall in the small room. His hair is still a bit damp, but at least it falls in neat, soft curls around his face and down to his shoulders. Adjusting the collar of his shirt one last time, he can almost say that he looks respectable. He supposes that’s good enough for a wedding.

Especially a wedding he didn’t particularly choose.

Turning on his heel, Cassian pulls open the wooden door to the room he’s been sequestered in, stepping out into the hall beyond. If he pricks his ears, he can just make out the sounds of feminine voices bouncing off the stone walls, hushed but urgent in their tone. He follows the voices three doors down, but he barely raises his fist to knock before it’s yanked open and he’s met with a pair of blue eyes brimming with open defiance and stubborn disapproval, a nose smattered with freckles and scrunched in disdain. Rhys’s soon to be wife, Feyre.

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” Feyre informs him, her tone daring him to disagree as much as her expression begs for an excuse to take a swing.

“Good thing we wolves don’t believe in such superstitions,” Cassian offers simply with a shrug.

Feyre doesn’t even bother tamping down the expression that stretches across her face, the unimpressed look she settles him with. She tries to close the door firmly in his face, but Cassian is faster, sliding his foot between it and the doorjamb. Feyre glares down at his foot as if it personally offended her before lifting her eyes again and turning that anger back at him. Rhys will certainly have his hands full, Cassian knows that for sure.

“Do you mind?” Feyre drawls, closing the door on his foot again for extra good measure.

“It’s fine, Feyre,” Nesta’s voice reaches him from further in the room.

Feyre turns her head over her shoulder, having some sort of silent conversation with her older sister. Although Cassian is only privy to half of it, to the various eyebrow raises and wide eyed looks from the youngest Archeron, it’s not hard for him to guess what’s being said. Eventually, Feyre let out a quiet huff, finally opening the door fully.

Cassian steps properly into the room, and getting his first sight of Nesta has him forgetting why he’s even here. Has him forgetting how to breathe for a moment. The black fabric of her dress plunges deeply down her chest, drawing emphasis to the tantalizing line of skin on display. It clings to her every curve where it falls in graceful layers down her legs, and lace stretches down her arms in a subtle design that almost looks like flames.

But it’s Nesta’s hair that Cassian really can’t look away from. Every time that he’s seen the Archerons, Nesta has always worn her hair in an intricate updo, braided back without a single strand out of place. And yet right now, her hair is down, cascading in soft waves around her shoulders and down her back. The golden brown of those strands seems to burn, and Cassian’s fingers twitch with the sudden urge to be buried amongst them, to discover if they’re as soft as they look.

“We’ll be alright,” Nesta continues to her sisters, but something burns in those stormy blue eyes of hers that has Cassian suspecting she’s speaking about more than just leaving him alone with his soon to be wife.

Feyre steps closer to her eldest sister, dropping her voice but not low enough for Cassian’s wolf ears. “If you change your mind…”

“It will be alright,” Nesta repeats firmly, taking Feyre’s hands in hers and giving them a squeeze.

Feyre sighs softly, clearly unconvinced, but she doesn’t argue anymore. She accepts the hand that Elain holds out, allowing her older sister to lead her around Cassian and toward the door. Cassian doesn’t miss the look that both sisters offer him, the promise, or more aptly the threat, clear in both their expressions.

The door closes behind them with a soft snick, and then it’s just Cassian and Nesta. Despite it being just the two of them, despite the fact they’ll be husband and wife within the hour, she still holds her spine straight as steel. She keeps her chin raised, somehow looking down her nose at him even though Cassian has a whole head on her. And yet she holds him captivated, keeps him pinned in place as her eyes sweep over his frame.

“Who knew you could actually clean up so well,” Nesta comments, raising her gaze back to his own.

“I even bathed and everything,” Cassian offers back. He doesn’t bother biting back the smirk that tugs up his lips, making a big show of sketching into a dramatic bow. “Just for you, princess.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at the gesture, the reaction sparking a flame in Cassian’s chest. “Cute.”

“I thought you’d appreciate that, looking down from your little witchy, Archeron throne.”

“Fuck you,” Nesta snaps, stepping forward until they’re toe to toe, until she has to tilt her chin higher to hold eye contact with him.

Her lips curl back in a snarl, a fire of her own beginning to blaze through her eyes like a churning sea. He can see her magic beginning to creep into the corners, wisps of silver swirling like tendrils of smoke. Can see the way her pulse has started to jump like a raging beat just beneath her skin. It has that fire flickering in Cassian’s own veins roaring higher still, rising to meet her.

Witches, including the Archerons, are always so prim, so proper. So boring and pretentious. Cassian wonders how far he can push her now, how much he can tug on those fraying edges on display now until she’s fully unraveling before him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Cassian drawls easily. “It’s me that will be fucking you soon. Wife.”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Nesta seethes, jamming a finger into the center of his chest. “I know this marriage is a sham. You know this marriage is a sham. We’re both doing this out of duty and nothing more, so there’s no use pretending otherwise.”

“Don’t worry. There's no pretending here. I know exactly how you witches feel about wolves.”

“Is that so?”

“And I can assure you,” Cassian continues, leaning in until he and Nesta are practically nose to nose. “The feeling is mutual.”

Nesta shifts her hand until her palm is pressed firmly to his chest, shoving him hard. She has more strength than Cassian expects, the gesture taking him by surprise enough that he stumbles back a step. The shock quickly wears off at the victorious gleam that flares in Nesta’s eyes, but before he can say or do anything else, she turns on her heel, stalking toward the door and yanking it open.

Cassian sighs softly, following behind her. Unsurprisingly, Nesta doesn’t bother holding the door for him, Cassian needing to catch it before it closes on his face. He slips out and into the hall with ease, long legs catching up to Nesta and her own strides quickly. When he reaches her, he holds out his arm in offering, delighting in the eye roll and scowl it earns him.

“You can’t be serious,” Nesta comments dryly, her steps never faltering.

“Sham or no sham, don’t you think it’s important to present a united front, Nes?”

Nesta’s steps stutter to a stop then, annoyance raging across her expression as she whirls around on him. “Don’t call me that.”

Cassian watches in real time the moment Nesta realizes what she’s said, what she’s given him. Her scowl twists tighter, eyes narrowing as if daring him. The smile that tugs across Cassian’s lips is slow, all teeth. The nickname curls around his tongue, grinds between his teeth, poised and ready. He swears he can see the fire churning just beneath her skin in the pink that starts to spark across her cheeks. His gaze traces that color down her neck, curious to see if it spills across her chest too.

Before he can find the answer, Nesta continues storming down the hall toward the large double doors at the end. She turns back to look at him expectantly, but for once, Cassian can’t quite get his feet to move. Their fate is waiting on the other side of that door. Once they step through to what’s waiting beyond, there will be truly no turning back. No taking back the words spoken. No going back on the vows that will tether them together forever.

It’s certainly not the Mother blessed match he had hoped for one day. Not the type of love that Enalius had in the stories his mother told him as a child. Not a mate that would wrap that sacred golden thread as tightly around his heart as he hoped to secure their own.

“Cassian,” Nesta hisses and draws him back to the present, her tone dripping with exasperation.

“No need to get your panties into a twist, sweetheart,” Cassian mumbles, finally striding forward to meet her.

Cassian takes a moment to roll his shoulders one last time, clearing his throat and offering Nesta one final bland smile. It earns him another narrowed eyes look from her, one that Cassian is beginning to suspect means she intends to cut him down where he stands. His wolf wants to see her try.

He pulls open one of the double doors, stepping inside the large room beyond. All of the factions have kept their guest lists to just their respective inner circles, but it’s still a decent size group awaiting on the other side. And with Nesta being the eldest, it means their wedding is to be the first. He can spy Elain and Feyre sitting in the front row with the Archeron matriarch, unmarried still at least for the next few hours.

Despite being sequestered to the front row, the distance doesn’t seem to deter Rhys, the vampire male openly smiling with his canines on full display toward his soon-to-be wife. The distance doesn’t seem to stop Feyre either, nor her mother a mere two seats away, the youngest Archeron glaring over her shoulder right back.

Lucien Vanserra also seems set on staring at his future wife; although, Elain is intent on not meeting his gaze. Cassian still doesn’t quite understand how Eris got away with pawning this alliance off on his youngest brother rather than shouldering it himself. Then again, despite how inconspicuous the Vanserra Coven’s leader thinks he’s being, Cassian doesn’t miss the sidelong glances Eris makes toward the male sitting to Rhys’s left as he walks past.

Cassian’s steps take him to the front of the room and to the priestess standing there. She’s young, copper hair tumbling in long strands around her robes. She offers Cassian a small, friendly smile, but he can’t muster up the will to reciprocate the gesture. He’s sure this is the first of three very solemn weddings this poor priestess will officiate. Thankfully, the awkward air doesn’t last long, as the double doors to the room open again, and everyone turns their attention to the female now stepping inside.

This is it.

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta stares out the carriage window, eyeing the gray stone of the temple. It almost feels odd how unassuming it looks, just an ordinary temple with no idea what just took place behind the large oak door. She had almost expected wrathful, stormy clouds to roll in today, for lightning to crack across the sky as surely as Nesta’s world has felt cracked apart. Had expected thunder to clap as though the Mother herself protested as the priestess wrapped the black rope around their joined hands.

It takes everything within Nesta to swallow down her shudder as she remembers that moment they were truly bound together forever. She had hated it. Hated how large his hand was compared to hers. Hated the slide of callouses against her skin and the shiver it had sent up her spine. Hated the warmth of it as his fingers curled around her own.

The carriage jolting forward tugs Nesta out of her thoughts. She turns toward the other side of the carriage, finding Cassian already watching her. He’s already discarded his jacket, unlaced the fastens at the collar of his shirt so that a sliver of golden skin is on full display, the barest hint of dark swirling ink twisting along his collarbones.

Despite the darkness around them and in the carriage, his hazel eyes still seem to glint as he stares at her. Nesta isn’t sure if it’s part of him being a werewolf or just how the male in question is, but she swears he can see right through her. Swears that any mask or wall she’s carefully curated and mastered through her years is now a useless defense. It doesn’t stop her from straightening her spine, from raising her chin.

“Is it a long journey?” Nesta asks, forcefully shoving down the urge to twiddle with the cool, metal weight now on her left hand.

“The village the pack calls home isn’t far.”

“And yet you didn’t want to stay for the celebration?”

A large banquet had been prepared for all the guests in attendance, and yet, Cassian had rounded up his wolves and announced they were returning to the pack. Nesta supposes she should be grateful he at least allowed them to stay to watch both her sisters have their own ceremonies, but the command had still taken her by surprise.

His second and third hadn’t even argued. They merely went on ahead, shifting and going on foot the preferred mode of transportation for wolves apparently. A carriage had been readied for Nesta, her new husband opting to join her for the journey rather than shifting himself, and then they were off.

“Why would we stay?” Cassian fires back, offering one of those slow cocksure smirks that Nesta is beginning to hate. “So you could have ample time and distraction to slip something into my drink?”

“Could you blame me?” Nesta hisses, leaning forward in her seat to glare at the male across from her.

“Now, now, Nes. Is that any way to treat your husband?”

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying happy wife, happy life?”

Cassian snorts, settling back comfortably against his seat. His hazel eyes seem to flare, his smirk twisting and growing at the remark. It’s certainly not the reaction Nesta is used to receiving when she dares to bare her teeth. When she gives in to that fire that always seems to thrum and burn beneath her skin, raging to be released.

Cassian’s lips part, but before he can get another jab in, the carriage pulls to a stop, the alpha glancing sidelong out the window. “We’re here.”

Cassian pushes open the carriage door, ducking down and stepping out with ease. Nesta waits for Cassian’s hand to reach back inside for her, but it never comes. With another roll of her eyes and a huff, Nesta slips out of the carriage herself. She takes a moment to straighten out the skirts of her dress before finally looking up and around her. The sight almost takes her breath away.

Large trees stretch far around them, their branches reaching up toward the stars and the sky beyond. The night air whispers of pine, of crickets and critters that call these trees and forest home, and through the trunks of trees, Nesta can spy what appears to be some sort of lake, the moon’s light glinting off the ripples of water.

The ground has been worn and covered with small rocks beneath her feet, creating a path that winds between the trees and leads to a whole village. Homes have been built into the hills and the rocks, between the trees. Made of wood and covered in moss, they blend in almost perfectly with the woods around them, a living, breathing part of the forest. The whole village is almost mystical, the melody of a wolf’s howl somewhere deeper in only adding to her new surroundings.

“Come on,” Cassian orders gruffly, already making his way down the path and further into the village.

Nesta hurries after him, trying to keep up with his long legs and longer strides. He leads them to the other side of the village. Wooden planks have been worked into the side of the hill to create stairs, the largest cabin that Nesta has seen yet sitting at the top. It’s clear this is the alpha’s home, built so it looks out over the other cabins, over the rest of the pack.

There’s a male Nesta has never seen before waiting by the front door when they reach it, along with the trunks and bags Nesta had packed earlier this morning. It’s a stark reminder that her whole life is somehow contained within them, that her whole life is here now. Cassian offers the male a nod in greeting that’s reciprocated, but nothing is said.

The other wolf starts to make his way back toward the stairs, but Nesta is quick to call after him, “I’d like my things moved to my room.”

The male blinks a few times at the request before turning his attention toward Cassian, clearly asking for permission. Nesta doesn’t even bother holding back her scoff. She may be married to the alpha of the pack now, but it means nothing, gives her no power or standing here. She’s still just as powerless as she was beneath her grandmother’s thumb, her mother’s thumb. She’s still just a witch, just an outsider.

Cassian must give whatever acquiesce is needed because the male returns to Nesta’s things, hefting them up into his arms. Nesta follows him and Cassian inside the cabin. There’s a kitchen to the left, large windows with curtains currently drawn above the sink, and to the right is a large living space. A gorgeous, stone fireplace sits in the center of that space, a large sofa and comfortable armchair arranged around it. A set of bay windows covers the wall on the other side, a seat built in below it and shelves beside it.

Following the male down the hall, Nesta steps inside a large bedroom. She watches him set all of her things down, and only when the door closes behind him, does Nesta finally breathe. She closes her eyes and rolls her neck, breathing deeply in and out until she finally feels centered again. Only then does she open her eyes again, and look around.

The furnishings are fairly simple, a bed taking up the majority of the space at the center of the room, tasteful rugs, a dresser sitting against one wall and two armchairs and a small table set by the windows. The only personal touch is a painting hanging on the wall, pine trees and a large mountain, a galaxy of stars above.

When Nesta tries the door at the far corner of the room, she finds the bathing chamber, just the sight starting to tug relaxation through Nesta’s muscles. She spins on her heels and digs around in her trunk until she finds a silky sleeping gown and some of the oils and soaps Elain had given her, deciding to take advantage of the abnormally large bathtub to soak. The warm water and sweet floral scents are everything she needs, and she sighs softly as she sinks in up to her chin.

It isn’t until the water starts to go cold that Nesta forces herself up and out of the tub. She takes the time to brush out her hair, using a towel to squeeze out the excess water, and tugs on the sleeping gown. She steps out of the bathing chamber, mind already dreaming of sinking beneath the soft looking blankets of the large bed, but her steps stutter to a stop when she finds Cassian sitting in one of the chairs by the window.

Cassian’s gaze rakes over her, drinking her in. Those hazel eyes take in her now exposed legs, tracking across her collarbones, straying just a moment too long on her hair where it falls around her shoulders and down her spine. Nesta swears she can feel the weight of his attention like fingers sliding across her skin. Goosebumps erupt and prickle, but Nesta blames it on her current lack of dress and the cold air in the room.

Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, finally tearing his eyes away and pushing a hand up and through the tangled mess of his curls, his own wedding band glinting in the low light of the room. “Do you… have a preference for how we do this?”

“Excuse me?” Nesta asks, crossing her arms to cover herself and raising her chin. Here he is, barging into her room, and now he’s speaking in cryptic phrases.

Cassian sighs, shaking his head, and when he meets her gaze again, there’s a coldness to his expression. “Do you care how we fuck?”

“How dare you.”

“Did you forget the magical bonds we just made? It demands consummation.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, no matter how true the words may be. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You think I want this?” Cassian demands, pushing up to his feet to glare right back at her. “You think I want to be married to some prissy, spoiled brat of a witch?”

Nesta lets a slow smile pull across her face, one that’s all teeth and mocking saccharine. She steps closer to him until they’re almost toe to toe, tilting her chin up and looking down her nose at him despite the height difference between them. “Should I get on my hands and knees then? Isn’t that how you dogs like it?”

Cassian growls, his hand snapping up and curling around her throat. His fingers squeeze, Nesta’s breath hitching in her chest, but she doesn’t back down. She can see the fire blazing in his hazel eyes, the barely held back restraint, and she meets it head on.

“Do it,” Nesta spits at him. “I dare you. You need this alliance just as much as I do.”

“Exactly. So be a good girl.” A shudder crawls up Nesta’s spine of its own accord, and with the way they’re pressed together, Cassian clocks the reaction with ease. “Why am I not surprised…”

Nesta shoves hard at Cassian’s chest until he releases his hold of her. Shoves hard until he stumbles back a few steps. Shoves hard until he’s tumbling back onto the bed and she can climb over him and straddle his hips. She skates her index finger up his arm, over his bicep, across his shoulder. Her fingers card up and through his hair, and then she curls them, yanking hard.

“No kissing,” Nesta informs her, her voice low and harsh.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Cassian's hands settle on her hips, fingers spanning wide and gripping tightly, and he flips them over with ease, pressing Nesta back against the mattress. He leans back enough that he can fist the back of his shirt, tugging the fabric off and tossing it away.

All her feelings toward her new husband aside, Nesta can't deny that Cassian is attractive. His wide shoulders almost completely bracket her in, biceps shifting and bulging as he places his hands either side of her head. Black ink swirls across his golden brown skin and twists down his arms, daring Nesta to trace those lines with a finger. With her tongue. Her eyes follow the hair on his chest down his stomach, down over the hard lines of muscles, down to where that trail vanishes beneath his waistband.

Cassian leans back into her, burying his face against her neck and sliding his nose over her skin. Nesta feels him inhale deeply, goosebumps pebbling across her skin. His hand slips up her calf, over her knee, along her thigh, sliding the hem of her sleeping gown up with the movement. Already, Nesta’s heart begins to thunder between her ribs, her blood heating at just that small gesture. Cassian’s hand moves, his fingers tracing up the inside of Nesta’s thigh, and her own hair buries into the long, curly stranding of his hair, tugging as those fingers reach higher and higher.

“Already so responsive, Nes.”

“Don’t be so fucking cocky.”

Cassian’s hand shifts fully between her legs, sliding two fingers over the fabric of her panties teasingly. Try as she might, Nesta is unable to swallow down the moan the touch pulls from her throat. There’s no stopping her body’s reaction, the heat and dampness that starts to flood her core as Cassian finds her clit with ease. Judging from the smirk tugging up Cassian’s lips, he knows it.

“And already so wet for me,” Cassian continues, adding more pressure to his fingers over her clothed center, both a teasing and a promise.

“Less talking, more putting yourself to good use,” Nesta tells him, placing her hand on his shoulder and shoving in hopes he’ll understand what she’s suggesting.

Cassian pulls his hand back, Nesta frowning at the sudden loss, but then he uses his hand to gather both her wrists, pinning them back above her head in that single grip. “But don’t you want to be a good girl?”

Cassian leans back slowly, settling on his haunches, watching, waiting. It would be so easy for Nesta to fight back, to move, but she keeps her hands exactly where he pinned them. Seemingly satisfied, Cassian returns his hands to her thighs, fingers curling around the hem of her sleeping gown and tugging it all the way off. The fabric has barely hit the floor before Cassian his body pressed back down against hers.

His mouth closes around her breast, and Nesta tosses her head back, arching up into the warm heat. His tongue moves in languid circles around her nipple, his teeth just grazing the skin in a way that’s both obscene and feels too good. His free hand comes up to her other breast, the span of it large enough to fit the whole thing in his palm with ease. He kneads and squeezes before switching his mouth’s attention.

“Cassian,” Nesta moans softly, her hips bucking up in search of friction.

Cassian pulls his mouth back with a soft pop, offering her one of his cocksure smiles. “Who knew my name could sound so good falling past a witch’s mouth.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, a well placed retort already poised and ready on the tip of her tongue, more than ready to put this wolf back in his place. But before she can, Cassian slides further down the bed, pulling off and discarding her panties as he goes. His hands curl around her thighs, fingers digging in against her skin until she’s sure she’ll have bruises. He pries her thighs apart, settling her legs over his shoulders.

“Now let’s see what it sounds like when I make a witch scream.”

He leans in, licking a stripe all the way to her clit. The groan he lets out sends vibrations echoing through Nesta’s whole body. She drops a hand to his head, threading her fingers through the dark strands of his hair, as he starts to devour her. He alternates between swirling his tongue over her clit and teasingly fucking the tip of his tongue into her.

Nesta tries to shift her hips as best she can, trying to meet him stroke for stroke, chasing the heat pooling low in her gut, but Cassian’s grip tightens, holding her still exactly how he wants her. Nesta wants to be annoyed, but the display has sparks firing through her every nerve ending, has another low moan of Cassian’s name tumbling past her lips without her control.

Cassian pulls back, the sight of him licking his lips as indecent as it is attractive. “I was so sure that if I ever heard you chanting my name, it would be you cursing me, but I much prefer this.”

“I will curse you if you don’t finish what you started,” Nesta pants out, tugging tighter on his hair.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Cassian tells her, suddenly sinking two fingers into her and drawing a gasp in response. “We’re just getting started. Have to get you ready to take my knot.”

The words draw Nesta out of the moment. She knew knots were a part of werewolves’ anatomy, had made sure to do her research once the marriage and plans had been finalized. But hearing the words from Cassian suddenly makes them real, makes Nesta realize she may be more out of her depth than she initially thought.

All thoughts eddy out of Nesta’s mind, though, when Cassian curls his fingers. She clenches down hard around them, her hips bucking against his hold. He sets a hard and fast pace, the wet sound of his fingers working her open swirling and filling the room, mixing with the soft sounds of her moans. He leans down, not pausing or slowing down his hand as his mouth finds her clit again, sucking the bud between his lips.

The extra stimulation sends Nesta flying over the edge, her orgasm tearing through her like a wildfire. She’s half aware of her thighs squeezing tight around Cassian’s head, of the very unladylike shout she lets out, but that fire burning through her veins feels too good, daring Nesta to drown in it. Cassian continues to move his fingers, his mouth unrelenting, dragging her orgasm out with aftershocks until it starts to teeter into pain.

“W-wait,” Nesta gets out between pants, reaching down and curling her fingers around Cassian’s wrist.

“You can take it,” Cassian pulls back enough to murmur. “Besides, I told you, we have to get you ready to take my knot.”

Nesta whimpers, but already, he’s stoking those embers and building her higher again. He scissors and curls his fingers, squeezing in a third digit. The stretch is somehow too much and not enough at the same time, Nesta’s toes curling against Cassian’s shoulders as she starts to rock against his hand.

“That’s it,” Cassian praises, his own voice breathless. “That’s a good girl.”

The words have Nesta tumbling closer to that edge again dangerously fast. When Cassian leans back down, his mouth finds home on her breast this time. He gently tugs her nipple between his teeth at the same moment his fingers curl deep inside her. Before Nesta knows it, before she can stop it or warn him, her second orgasm crashes through her. The force of it is enough to bring tears to the corner of her eyes, a choked off gasp tugging free from her lungs.

Cassian finally pulls back, and Nesta slumps back against the mattress, catching her breath. He slides off the bed, reaching for the waistband of his pants, the dark curls of his hair tumbling forward across his temples, his shoulders, at the movement. Nesta presses up onto her elbows, watching the way the muscles in his arms, his chest, shift and move as he works his pants and undergarments down his legs and kicks them aside.

It leaves his thick thighs on full display, but even more than that, Nesta can’t help but stare at his cock. She hasn’t seen many naked men in her life, but she knows he’s larger than most. It hangs hard and long between his thighs, his large hand fisting the girth of it. She can see the tip already glistening, the thick vein that runs along the underside on display each time Cassian works his hand up and down. The sight has Nesta’s breath catching in her throat, has her body already clenching in anticipation despite the two orgasms Cassian has already wrung from her.

Cassian kneels back onto the bed, settling between her still spread thighs. He rubs the head of his cock against her, gathering the wetness and working it over himself. Every catch of the head of his cock against her clit sends a shudder scraping up her spine, her fingers fisting in the blankets.

“I’m not going to beg if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

Cassian chuckles, pressing his hips forward enough that just the head of his cock slips into her, just that stretch leaving Nesta hissing. “Oh, I have no such notions of that. Yet.”

Any retort Nesta has dies in the back of her throat when Cassian snaps his hips forward, sliding the rest of the way in in one smooth thrust. She feels stretched and full in a way she’s never felt before, his cock somehow reaching deeper than she thought possible. Tentatively, testingly, Nesta clenches down around him, pride swelling within her at the groan it draws out of Cassian.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Cassian pushes out between his teeth, burying his face in Nesta’s neck.

Nesta wraps her legs around his hips, pressing the heels of her feet against his ass. “Fucking move.”

She half wonders if Cassian truly will make her beg, but he must feel just as desperate as she does because he pulls his hips back. The drag of his cock against her walls has Nesta throwing her head back against the pillow with a long low moan. He sinks back into her, pressing deeper still, but the slow thrust is merely a tease. He sets as brutal a pace as his fingers before, snapping his hips hard against her own, cock driving and burying into her as surely as it steals the breath from her lungs.

Nesta can do nothing but hold on as Cassian uses her body, dragging her along with him. He’s turned her into a moaning mess, a puddle of pleasure, as he plays her like his favorite instrument. She clenches with every inward thrust, her fingernails dragging down Cassian’s back. She’s worried at just how fast she’s started to crest higher and higher again, her blood singing with liquid fire and threatening to send her spiraling through yet another orgasm, but then she feels it.

His knot.

The bulbous swell of it slaps against her with every hard thrust, promising to lock them together. She already feels so full, already feels split open on his cock, that she has no idea how his knot is going to fit.

“It won’t—”

“You’ll take it,” Cassian growls, his hands sliding under her ass and lifting her hips higher.

The new angle has Nesta letting out a broken sob, her every nerve ending feeling like a livewire seconds away from catching fire and dragging her into the flames. One more hard thrust from Cassian and his knot notches within her. The combination of pleasure and pain has Nesta’s whole body tensing. She clenches down hard against the knot, all but screaming Cassian’s name. She’s half aware of the warmth of his seed filling her, the way his hips continue to rock against her with every spurt of his cock.

Despite the way she’s dripping, the slippery wetness between her thighs, Cassian’s fingers still find her clit. It barely takes two tight circles of his fingers before she’s coming for the third time tonight. She arches up against Cassian, her whole body shuddering and shaking through it. She squeezes even tighter around his knot, Cassian groaning and his cock twitching and filling her even more in response.

It feels almost strange coming down and catching her breath while still feeling so full, her cunt fluttering around Cassian’s cock and knot with the aftershocks. Her hand slides up to her neck, fingers skating across her sweat slicked skin, but there’s no stickiness of blood, no soreness, like she expects to find.

“You didn’t bite,” Nesta comments quietly, frowning in confusion.

Cassian lifts his head enough that he can peer down at her. “What?”

“I thought werewolf tradition was to bite to seal the bond between a pair.”

“I didn’t know you were suddenly an expert in our traditions.”

“You think I didn’t do my research? To know what I might be walking into?” Nesta snaps with a roll of her eyes. She hates that the fact they’re still joined together means she can’t shove at his chest, can’t escape the heat radiating from him and encasing her. But it doesn’t stop her from raising her chin regardless, from narrowing her eyes at him. “Was it wrong then? Is that not the tradition?”

“It is our tradition.”

“But you didn’t—”

“Did you forget that I didn’t choose this? Choose you?” Cassian cuts her off, his lips pulling back in a sneer, hazel eyes practically blazing. “Biting a mate, claiming them, it’s sacred for wolves. Mates are precious, and it is a blessing to be bonded that way. A mate is someone you fully give your heart over to. Someone you would gladly lay down your life for. And you are neither of those things to me.”

His knot has gone down enough that Cassian is finally able to pull out, Nesta still wincing at the drag, the soreness she can already feel between her legs. She swallows hard at the stormy, hard expression still on Cassian’s face, watching him shift to the other side of the bed. With a huff, she tugs herself off the bed, holding her head high, her spine straight, and refusing to allow Cassian to see their romp in the sheets or his words having an effect on her. Only when the door to the bathing chamber closes firmly behind her does she allow herself to slump and deflate.

She takes her time scrubbing herself clean again, washing away the feel of Cassian against her skin. But she realizes belatedly that she forgot to grab a fresh sleeping gown to change into. Sighing softly, she pulls back open the door, padding across the room and toward her trunk of things. She nearly jumps out of her skin in surprise when she spies Cassian still in the bed, now casually lounging beneath the blankets.

“What are you doing?” Nesta demands, snatching up a clean sleeping gown and quickly tugging it on. “You’ve completed your duty, so you can get out of my room now.”

“I think you mean our room, wife,” Cassian offers back, smirking openly at Nesta.

Nesta scoffs, but she doesn’t do much more. She’s too exhausted, her body too wrung out, from this too long night to fight. She makes her way over to the bed, yanking the blankets back and slipping beneath them. “Who knew you were such a traditionalist.”

“What can I say, I don’t want you getting any ideas. Like slipping out the window.”

Nesta punches her pillow, simply because she knows she can’t punch her new husband in the face. She curls up on her side, her back to Cassian, and tucks the blankets up to her chin. She’s never been particularly religious, never truly believed in a higher power blessing her family with their magic the way her grandmother claimed, but Nesta still finds herself sending a silent prayer to the Mother. Praying and hoping that at least her sisters are having better luck with their own husbands.

—

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[prettyboyeddiemunson]

the UK is dying from heatwaves atm and i keep on seeing loads of people on the street shirtless or in shorts and tank tops, etc, etc. it got me thinking.

a very hot day in hawkins, the suns out all week, and low and behold, eddie munson rocking up to school with a white tank top.

i’m going feral.

please do something with this.

OMG EDDIE IN A TANKTOP IS SOMETHING I DIDN'T KNOW I NEEDED

imagine if it's also a crop top, too. like he's gotta have that extra skin exposed to stay cool, right? he just shows up one day, wearing a white tank top with the bottom cut off (which he did that morning before school, because why the fuck not?). also, i've kinda adopted the headcanon that he has nipple piercings in canon, because we never saw his nips, so who's to say? they poke through the white tanktop, and he loves showing them off anyway, so there they are. protruding through the thin fabric of the shirt, on display for god and everyone.

and you're just foaming at the fucking mouth all day, every time you see him. the two of you never really associated with one another much--aside from the classes you shared and maybe an occasional "hello" and a smile in the hallway. you had a big crush on him, though, and your friends always told you that he felt the same. they would tell you of the quick glances he made at you, how he would stare at you in class instead of paying attention, how he was always blushing when you met his eyes and looked away. you always denied it, but it made you wonder whether or not they were onto something. you would always shrug it off, shoving it down inside for a possible later time.

but today, jesus goddamn christ. you're a whole new level of flustered. every time you see him, with his stomach showing, the faint traces of his happy trail visible above his pants, his nipple piercings showing through the shirt, his long hair flowing around him, doe eyes lighting up every time they see you? fuck. you really didn't stand one chance in hell. your best friend convinced you to just talk to him, to give it a shot, and you swallowed your pride and decided to do it. fuck it; how could you not, with him looking like something straight out of one of your many wet dreams?

long story short, it ends up going pretty well, to say the least. he takes you out behind the gym during lunch, and makes out with you pretty heavily back there. your hands up his shirt, playing with his nipple piercings as he moans into your mouth, his tongue running over the roof of it as he fists your hair. one of his hands delves under your skirt as you toy with his piercings, and then it's your turn to moan as his fingers dip into your panties. the feeling of his cool rings on your hot skin is too fucking good, and you shiver against him as you mewl.

he’s grinning when he breaks the kiss, both of you breathless as your head swims from what is happening. you’re both sweating a little from the outside heat, and also from the intensity of the kiss. then eddie is going back in for more before you can speak, his tongue touching yours before your lips do. he presses you against the wall with his body, grinding as you pinch one of his pierced nipples. you can feel his cock, rock hard and straining against his jeans, rubbing against you, and you reach down to palm him. it goes on like that for awhile--hands wandering, tongues pressing against each other, sighs & moans passing between you…and then the bell is ringing.

you whimper when eddie pulls away, missing the weight of his body on your own. he winks at you, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it as he meets your eyes. he pulls you to his body, kissing you chastely before nuzzling his nose to yours, while his hands settle on your lower back.

"meet me at my van after school," he whispers. "we'll go to my trailer and pick up where we left off."

[vampcubus]

Tanjiro would sit so pretty in my lap, but so would Todoroki.

Like, imagine Tanjiro in a women’s kimono, the fabric slowly falling off his shoulders as he looks up at you.

And then imagine Todoroki in a little cat maid dress, his little ears and cat bell looking so adorable. <3

i’m just imagining sun hashira tanjiro who needs to disguise himself as a woman for a mission, and you’re all to eager to doll him up. he’s grown his hair out extra long, and it’s even more beautiful when it’s done up in an intricate style with colorful pins.

as soon as he arrives home, he’s searching for you, smiling when he finds you sitting cross-legged at the kotatsu. he crawls over until he’s perched all prettily in your lap, bare legs on either side of your hips, feet sore from walking in tall geta all day. he’s slumped against you, eye-catching kimono hanging low off his shoulders. he just basks in your close proximity for a moment with closed eyes, taking in your comforting scent before he lifts his head from your shoulder to gaze up at you sleepily and adoringly.

and omg shouto is your clingy lil princess and your lap is his throne. if you’re working too hard and not giving him enough attention he gets pouty, staring longingly at your empty lap as you finish paperwork. he disappears for a bit, and you suspect he’s crawled into bed for his afternoon nap— which makes you feel a bit guilty, since you usually napped together.

your brows furrowed when you heard the sound of a jingling bell getting closer and closer, a bit perplexed since none of your cats had bell collars. you’re confused for all of two seconds before shouto appears in front of you, and you do a double take when you see what he’s wearing. you close your laptop and smirk at his frilly attire, a slutty maid outfit with cat ears and the cutest bell collar around his pretty pale neck.

“can i help you, kitty?” you teased, and he grabs your laptop to put it to the side. that’s all the warning you receive before he’s jumping in your lap, and you can’t help but laugh as your catch him in your arms and smother his face and neck in kisses. “just wanted some attention, huh?”

“you’re working too much, forgetting you have a boyfriend…” shouto mumbles, tucking his face in the crook of your neck as you stroke his back.

“my poor baby, well you certainly have my attention now, pretty kitty.”

[alluringjae]

sinfully vowed to you - jjh

open your legs, not your bible | sinfully vowed to you

SUMMARY. how far will you go for love? perhaps to the point you’re bound for marriage, but the groom you seek isn’t the one your heart beats for. and desperately, you must gamble everything without regrets.

PAIRING. jaehyun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT. 13.2k

GENRE. loads of angst, fluff, and slice of life at the end | rich bad boy!jaehyun, rich good girl!reader, implied enemies to lovers!au, forbidden romance!au

PLAYLIST. don’t blame me (sped up and reverb) by taylor swift [the main reason of how this story came to be]

WARNINGS. arranged married to a surprise neo, mentions and appearances of more neos, references to and slight bad-mouthing Christianity, one heated argument where 2 of the 10 commandments are recited, mentions and portrayal of manipulative parents, explicit language, petnames, “stop the wedding” shenanigans, mentions of Satan, mentions and potrayals of physical and verbal assault, eloping, allusions to virginity loss and sex, mention of praise kink, tension between rival families, pregnancy ((let me know I missed anything else))

⤑ vero’s words: reposting bc tvmblr being a bit rood for not showing up on the tags 💀 also did some minor edits and added extra parts i forgot from my final draft huhuhu but omg yeah thank you for all the love for the first part!!! i didn’t expect it to blow up my phone notifs soooo i hope this second part (unsure if it’s the last one who knows right) makes up the sudden cliffhanger HAHAHAHA happy reading!!! 💗

⤑ disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. i don’t own the people/characters written, but the plot is mine. translations or copying my work is not allowed.

⤑ masterlist

⤑ leave me some feedback or hellos!

SIX HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

They say a wedding is every little girl’s dream. Whether it was the white gown or having a gorgeous partner at the end of the aisle whom they truly love, it’s like magic unfolding by the eyes of their esteemed guests.

The power of love ever so beautiful, and how everyone anticipates for it to grown each passing. And for the couple, to be eternally bound and in love until their final breath.

You were one of those little girls caught up in the fantasy, until it was tainted by the bitter reality of your pre-constructed future.

Hushed chatter are exchanged between your assigned makeup artist and hair stylist. They express pride in being booked by such an influential family for such a lavish wedding, doing their best to live up to the high expectations. But they’ll never understand how the smiles you give when they loop you into their small talk, it’s an act. Deep down, you dread their fruits of their labor working out.

Yet you wish to stop yourself from changing into this magnificent white gown cascading every curve of your figure. The upper half is of a tube design, folded twice and sewn. As for the bottom, the fabric are crafted into ruffles that flair until the bottom. A veil is clasp on top of your bun, awaiting until the big event to place over your head. Oh, there are gloves to match.

“Keep yourself entirely covered and pure after your wedding vows.” Your mother once insights as you nod along during your first dress fitting back then. Quite ironic to hear that now, huh?

Eventually (and much to your convenience), the overall styling is done. You bid genuine gratitude to the staff before they exit your hotel room while you remain alone to rest up. It was going to be a long day of superficial joy before facing lifelong period of unhappiness and duty.

As much as you want to enjoy your beautiful reflection right by the full-length mirror, your heart cannot simply move past the tragedy and pain strongly throbbing inside you.

What was the point to be dolled up like this if the groom you seek is not the chosen one?

And what more for a wedding being the happiest day of every little girl’s life if your arranged groom already has a special someone vacating their heart?

The outside world can only rejoice for such a joyous occasion, but the two of you can only mourn for the freedoms that have been permanently washed away.

Quite frankly enough, you still remember that very day you met your fiancé. You can only grieve for what has already been done without your willing knowledge and consent…

And for what else is to come after it.

TEN MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

It’s merely two days after your father’s sudden announcement of marriage, and your groom-to-be reached out to you through your mother. He didn’t have your number, so he contacted her first then you.

Meanwhile, your poor heart remains to sob and cry out every ounce of pain. Yet it never decreased, especially when you still had to tell Jaehyun. But you still didn’t have the bravery, dodging his calls and texts on your burner phone.

For the meantime, you needed to face your groom-to-be in hopes for at least a civil relationship.

The cafe near your office was a good 5 minute walk for him, and out there he already laid out his honest intentions and thoughts.

“I understand what we must do for our families’ empires.” He starts off in a downcast manner. “But do know that affection-wise, I can never reciprocate it with you.”

You curved a mini grin. “What’s she like then?”

“Wait, are you not offended?” He’s taken aback. Nothing has occurred but rejecting any future romantic endeavors to the kindest and most angelic woman in the city. He’s aware of the asshole move, but your reaction is very unlike you.

You laugh, breaking a bit of the tension. “Should I be?”

“We’re set to be married, to fall in love over time. So it’s unfair for you if I can’t give you just that. And my, you deserved to be loved in full.”

You heart wrenches. “But you deserve that just as much as I do because--“

“Because?”

“My heart belongs to another as well.”

Silence floods the both of you. Eye contact is evident, not ignored. Your irises drain of energy, of hope. And yet, there’s a nudge of comfort in sharing burdens together.

The burden of your liberty fading day by dad and impenetrable heartbreak.

And even if Jaehyun doesn’t know it yet, you’re already grieving.

“If not a loving relationship,” He cuts the tension. “May we at least remain amicable? I understand that our fates are shitty, but I cannot find any reasons to hate you.”

“I-I’d like that.” You stutter, glad that one good thing came out of a rather pleasant conversation. “I look forward to putting on a façade for the world with you.”

And as if by magic, your future dons a gummy smile. “Likewise, (Y/N). It’ll be a lot less hellish with you by my side.”

The two of you shake hands to it.

“I truly apologize for my family’s greed, (Y/N).” He says with guilt.

“I apologize for the same thing as well, Doyoung.”

THREE HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Speaking of the man, your phone pings with a notification. The two of you communicate constantly like close friends, a surprising pro to everything.

DY KIM: My mother is looking for you

DY KIM: She wants a photo of her future mother-in-law

(Y/N) Lee: Ew gross

(Y/N) Lee: How fake can she get this time in liking me

DY KIM: As fake as her beloved nose job

(Y/N) Lee: Jesus Doyoung

DY KIM: HAHAHAHA I’d say hurry once you’re done having some last minute alone time

DY KIM: I really don’t want to be around your parents, especially your over-the-top, conservative mother

(Y/N) Lee: Is she telling you not to meet me rn bc it’s gonna bring us misfortune

(Y/N) Lee: If she is, don’t even bother

(Y/N) Lee: Althoughhhh I do stand by that if you don’t mind

DY KIM: Oh, I see. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know

(Y/N) Lee: No worries, we have our whole lives to figure more things about each other

DY KIM: such a scary idea

(Y/N) Lee: not as scary as both your parents asking me about our future children

DY KIM: I AM STILL SO SORRY ABOUT THAT

(Y/N) Lee: It’s alright, Doyoung

(Y/N) Lee: That is one of my main duties as your future wife

DY KIM: But I don’t wanna think of that yet

DY KIM: Let’s focus on getting through this show

DY KIM: So I’ll see you in the altar?

(Y/N) Lee: Definitely, see you then.

It’s strange how you and Doyoung managed to create a friendship in the midst of your emotional distresses. Maybe in this lifetime, you’re only destined a marriage out of duty. But out of love? There’s no room for that.

Though perhaps now, you may have given yourself an exception. You share a loving look in the mirror because regardless of the occasion, you’re dressed to the nines. You shall not waste it.

You’re only going to get married once after all, right?

“Miss Lee.” Someone knocks on the bedroom door of your suite. It was one of the wedding planners, whose arms carry a captivating bouquet of white roses.

Your favorite.

“These are lovely!” Your legs carefully rush towards her, hoping not to break your heels. “Are these the flowers I’ll be walking the down aisle with?”

“Yes!” She replies. “In fact, this was a last-minute decision because the original red roses sent by the Kims are a bit too striking to the eye. You should be the main star after all.”

You nod. “If that’s the case, may I know who I sent them?”

“Funny you ask, Ms. Lee.” The planner takes a few steps back, only to return with an enclosed white envelope. “This gift came from an anonymous person, and one of my team members was informed that only you can read the letter it comes.”

Your brows scrunch in suspicion and confusion as you accept the envelope. But before you can question it, the planner interrupts your thoughts. “The car you’ll be riding in to go to the church is arriving soon, so we must head out in a bit.”

“Yes, I got that.” You affirm, trying not to get too caught up on this extra frenzy. Curiosity is a great trait of yours, but it can be problematically uncontrollable at time. “May I just spend a few more minutes to read this letter and touch up on my perfume? This can be from all my brothers.”

“Of course.” With that, the planner bows with respect as she leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Without anymore time to waste, your fingers rip out the envelope whilst enjoying the fresh aroma of the flowers. Straight out of the shop for sure, could all your brothers possibly have the time to buy it?

Taeyong is too occupied with his wife and only son to consider such a request.

Ten, your half-brother, just flew in this morning from Thailand. Staying any longer than today can cause major havoc, especially with your mother.

Mark sucks at being romantic. No wonder he can’t keep any of his ex-girlfriends.

Jeno, well. It’s not his thing. Not with his playboy personality lately.

Haechan is still hungover from partying with his friends just last night according to your sibling group chat.

Yet even with this, you’d still like to give all of them the benefit of the doubt. As the only girl in the Lee family, they respect and love you in their own ways. And it’s your wedding day, for God’s sake. They’re aware of how unhappy you are despite denying such, so sending flowers are their way of cheering you up.

Oh, how wrong you are.

Innocently, you unfolded the letter and bit by bit, your mouth lets out a gasp. The handwriting is all too familiar from the first few words on top, alongside the fresh perfume that was sprayed on it.

It came from the last person you can ever expect. The last person you could think or dream about.

Yet the only person your heart desperately longs for.

You’re gutted, yet you needed to contain yourself.

But fuck, flashbacks of the last time you saw each other replay in your head. And none of them were good memories.

FIVE MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Time is crucial in everything you do.

And you knew you fucked up when you kept delaying on telling Jaehyun your wedding when he saw it on today’s major headline in the news.

Here you two were, in your apartment where he manages to sneak in perfectly as always.

But confusion and anger were his driving emotions, and you couldn’t blame him the slightest.

What a coward you are.

“When will you ever stand up for yourself, (Y/N)? When will you call out those people who keep trampling over you?” Those were the first words he expressed, pacing your living room back and forth.

“But these are my parents, Jaehyun!” You tried to stay strong and neutral. You had no choice. “God, I hate them but I can’t lose them. If I do, I lose everyone else.”

“Are you really afraid of losing them or losing the privileges you’ve gained over the years from them?”

“Excuse me?”

“Admit that you are.” He marched forward where you stood. By the window, you’re looking down at the impending traffic. At the cars desperately eager to get home, was this how God saw everyone? Does He watch the suffering of His children in hopes they learn a lesson, or to put them through absolute misery?”

Because nothing else can destroy your heart but Jaehyun’s pain directly speaking at you.

“They’ll remove you from their wills and inheritance, try to blacklist you everywhere, badmouth you to other, rip the whole city apart even to find wherever you are if you run away.” He listed on and on.  “How do I know? Because I’m afraid too.”

“Fearing of starting anew, fearing that no one will support you, fearing of what’s to come when you disobey mommy and daddy because you’ve broken Commandment #4.”

“Honor your mother and father.” You responded naturally. How can you not when it’s a major rule you followed all your life?

“But you and I both know that they’re neither deserving of such because they are a lot worthy in the deeper realms of hell.” He spat without care.

“Don’t say that!” You protest.

“But you know I’m right!” And you knew was, but your pride was too high for that. Call it your only sin, one of the seven deadly ones. Truly ironic on your end.

“But it’s not that easy to stray away from my family! Unlike you whose parents give you so much freedom to explore, I am always on a leash.” You try to defend yourself, close to being on the verge of tears. Everything you’ve built with Jaehyun is starting to fall apart. The only person who’s made you feel sane and at ease. But you’re cornered with no choice. “So if I choose to be impulsive, I’ll be trapped. Locked in my bedroom like Rapunzel.”

You distance your glare towards another view, not wanting Jaehyun to see your now falling tears. “And if I run away and fail, my fate can be similar to Taeyong and Ten.”

Memories of Taeyong and Ten being beaten up to a pulp by your father and his henchmen when they tried to expose the corruption of your family to a media news outlet replays your mind. You were still in university, and didn’t mean to see that happening if not for your dying thirst. There was a water dispenser outside your bedroom, and wretched sounds from downstairs piqued your curiosity. Alas, whines from your older brothers as he was punched ruthlessly and bloodily in the living room. Your mother can only cry on the side, merely being a bystander to the abuse because she can’t stop your father.

“But has it crossed your mind that maybe, your brothers not want you to go through what they went through?” Jaehyun tries to compromise. Anything to keep you in his life. “That they too want you to make the big change in the family?”

“Even if they did, I just can’t risk it. Especially as the only woman among my siblings, marriage out of duty is my right.”

“What about us? Our freedom?”

“Freedom for a love like ours…” You trail. “… can only leave us 6 feet under.”

“But aren’t we worth a fight?” He begs. “I know what we signed up for our love likes ours, but shouldn’t we give it a shot? Give us a shot.”

“Jaehyun--“

“Do you not love me enough? Or is it me that loves you more than you?”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Everything that’s happening right now is bullshit because rather than doing what’s right, isn’t pushing through with the wrong?” His temper nearly tramples your room down. Getting a noise complaint right now is the last thing you needed. “Isn’t that contradictory as the good religious girl you are?”

“So you think that I am the bad one here?” You almost scream in stress. “God, I should’ve never given you a chance.”

“Say that again, angel.” Jaehyun’s voice lowered.

Oh shit, you fucked up with your mindless words.

Your lover straightens his back, showcasing his full height. How he hovers you, making you walk back again while he follows. That’s until you hit the wall loud and clear. “I don’t think I can’t hear you clearly.”

“You Jeongs are trouble and always will be. How dumb of me to have been so merciful to sinners like you.”

“That’s not what you said when you kissed me back a lifetime ago.” He plays around your charade. He knows you don’t mean it.

“What makes you think God will take you back?” You challenge.

“If I had to attend mass every day and bathe myself in holy water to clear myself of every remnant of you, so be it.” His hands rake over your body, one landing on your waist and the other planted on the wall near your face. Lowering his stance, your body get goosebumps from the words that he whispers in your ear. “Commandment #9: Thou shall not bear false witness against me.”

You bit your lips, which he makes him smirk. To add, “We all know you’re uttering a lie, baby.”

As his ego inflates, that’s only when your senses return to their normal state. “Get off me.”

“But you’re my religion, baby.”

“Commandment #1: Thou shall have no other Gods before Me.” You retaliated. “Convert back to your old self, Jaehyun. The one before you rejoined Bible study.”

“Baby.”

“It’s blasphemous to describe me as a religion when I am no god. So If you really love me, you’d understand my sense of duty and let me go.” Don’t. Please. You’re at a point of confusion, but you cannot let whatever feelings you have for Jaehyun jeopardize your life. Perhaps these feelings shall pass too.

Right?

“(Y/N).”

“Please don’t make it any harder for us, Jaehyun.” You weakly pushed him away. “So please go.”

Jaehyun’s been the type to rile you up, to take risks. But he knows when enough is enough. As your orbs have been drained of its light, and your back slouched in fatigue, it’s a pain to see you this way.

But the pain that piles in his chest was more superior, and he starts to lash out. Like he’s back in square one with you.

“I loathe your family. You robbed my family all those years ago, so I thought I’d never like you no matter how kind-hearted you are in and outside the church. But I was so fucking wrong.” He starts to cry, which he rarely does. And it’s from the last person he ever expected it to be from. His only lover, the only person who understood him, was leaving him.

“You’re the only one who understood me when everyone turned their backs at me for my sharp tongue. Sure, we argued a lot but you put me in my place. In my cold world, you embraced me with warmth. You taught me how to soften up and make amends with Sungchan, and showed me what real love is unlike the harshness of my parents.” Your back was turned when he kept talking this point on, refusing to confront him more. It’s too much you can mentally and emotionally handle.

“But that doesn’t really matter anymore.” He sighs, giving up. “I fell for your tricks, and now, you robbed my whole heart. How it beats for you, and only you. Truly, robbing runs in your blood and it shall stay that way forever.”

“Jaehyun, wait--” From your cold stance, only now were you awakened by the consequences of your actions. But it was too late. Jaehyun was by your front door, opening it to exit your home.

And your life forever.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

TWO HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Will you ever be ready to read this note when your parting all those months ago was bitter?

Yet it does cross your mind how he’s been, how can you not be?

If this was your last connection to him, you must savor it. All the sweetness and bitterness blazed in it.

Dearest my angel,

Weddings allow you to witness the passion and love between a couple right before your eyes. There’s truly nothing more breathtaking than that.

I am so sorry for the way I acted that night and each word I spat at you. I pressured you into something that you weren’t comfortable with out of my greed, inconsiderate of how much stress you already were under beforehand. Rather than putting you on the spot and lashing out my growing heartbreak, I should’ve been by your side. To be your shoulder to cry on, especially when we know what kind of love if we’re in.

But forgive me and my poor heart: it still cannot accept that you’re betrothed to another. I cannot invalidate my emotions that day either, but regardless. I am sorry for my actions that night.

They say our kind of love is forbidden, disrespectful to our ancestors who loathed each other. But can we really blame our souls to find connection in the mutual pains of our manipulative families? Should we choose to hate our neighbors because they told us to do so, to continue the generational tradition? Damn, we should never be religious if our sense of humanity is fucked.

By this time, you’re already dressed in a fascinating white gown. You’ve always been beautiful, but you’re bound to make every angel above cry in praise as you walk down the aisle. They’ll see what I see in you, even if I’m not the man who gets to take your hand. Until death do us part, but we’ve already parted before we can ever truly begin.

Thank you for accepting me for who I am. Thank you for making me realize how much I’m worth versus the bad things my parents say about me. Thank you for always encouraging me to go after my dreams even when a lot of people has turned their backs on. Most of all, thank you for loving me as I have loved you.

I don’t deserve a space in Heaven, but I am glad I found Heaven in you. And now, I’m ready to step down. Not necessarily to let you go yet, but in time, I’ll be able to let you go and look back at our memories fondly.

So please don’t shed any more tears if I am the cause of them; it aches my heart thinking of it because you deserve all the happiness in the world. Freely live a new life with your groom and create amazing memories with him.

I believe that my purpose in God’s plan for you, which is to love you fully and authentically in this world of lies, has been fulfilled.

- J

“We must leave in 5, (Y/N).” The muffled voice of the planner echoes through your trance, one that has you silently sobbing underneath your lips. Tears that threaten to brim down, but your head shakes before they do so.

What have you done? You became a slave to your cowardice for the longest time, only for your courage to finally knock some sense into you. You simply cannot go through this ceremony, you had to get outta there.

But it was already too late. Life doesn’t wait on cowards like you.

With the white bouquet in hand, your last connection with him, you pull yourself together.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

ONE HOUR BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Pictures here, pictures there.

The ceremony hasn’t started, and yet your parents and Doyoung’s demand numerous shots with you by the hotel and in the church. Your toes start to ache in your heels, and to your side, your eyes beg Taeyong and Ten to save you from your misery.

The latter boy laughs from afar, giving you a thumbs up. Or rather his expression read, “You’re on your own to do your duty!”

Meanwhile, Taeyong cuts in between you having dreaded small talk with Doyoung’s self-righteous mother. Already proud to claim herself as your mother-in-law, your ears can bleed for every screech in her tone when she opens her mouth. Under the excuse of “having some 1-on-1 time with my only sister”, Taeyong escorts you to a quiet, closed room within the church.

“Thank God for you, Yongie.” You hug him with utmost gratitude. “I’m about to lose my mind if Mrs. Kim wouldn’t shut up.”

Taeyong laughs, gladly returning your gesture. “Anything for you, little sis.”

You scoff, correcting him. “Your only sis.”

“You know what I mean.”

The two of you smile at each other, enjoying the comfort of silence. Since you were children studying in your living room back then to the first time Taeyong taught you how to drink when you turn 18, he was like your best friend. Through thick and thin, and against your parents the two of you were. Slowly, you’re breaking the cycle of bad deeds.

Or trying to. Because neither of you got away with your arranged marriages.

Speaking of which…

“So this is really happening, huh?” Taeyong starts as he hands over a bottle of water from the refrigerator behind him. It’s by luck the two of you ended up in the private lounge of the church for esteemed wedding guests. “Are you ready for this lifelong commitment, (Y/N)?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You say flatly. “You had to go through this as well, but eventually, you began to love your wife so maybe it’ll work for me too.”

“I was very lucky with Minyoung. She’s my soulmate.” He smiles upon the thought of his lover, but it only enables the green monster of envy into your being. “But I don’t think our situations are ever going to be alike.”

You squint a brow from your stance by the window. “What do you mean?”

“I was single when I was arranged to be wed, no person vacating my heart nor had intentions to look for one.” He lingers, locking eyes with you. His bright, wide pupils that can easily read a person, it was like he was analyzing your entire mind and body language. But alas, he already knows a lot more than you can ever imagine.

It only explains how your fingers drastically slip from your bottle, spilling incandescently on the floor. Thankfully, it didn’t break because of the curtain above the wood. You alertly scurry away from the wet zone and lean against the glass bookcase of religious books. Dare not can you look at your brother in the eye, too busy being washed out with shame, guilt, and misery.

“Taeyong, I can explain.”

“What else is there to explain, little sis?” He keeps his composure, unfazed. No anger, no outlash, no negative emotions bubbling his figure. “Other than you’re in love with another man, one you know will cause mayhem when mother and father know of it.”

You want to deny everything he’s blurting out to you. But your sudden reaction is too much of a giveaway, and lying to Taeyong is impossible. Not when he’s best at sneaking around and digging secrets about everyone. Why do you think he figured out that Ten’s your half-brother, not just some exchange student from Thailand during your high school years?

“Of all the men out there, did it really have to be Jeong Jaehyun?” He asks with concern in his tone rather than judgement. It was the first time he utter the man’s name without hatred. Not when he’s someone very dear to you.

“Hush your voice! Someone might hear.” You order, peering at the door. Anyone can walk in, or eavesdrop. Your world has eyes and ears everywhere.

“Just answer the question, (Y/N).” His tone deafens, but his composure hasn’t wavered.

You sigh, gazing downwards while your fingers tightly clutch on your gown. “The heart wants what it wants. And I’m sure that until the end of time, it’ll always long for him.”

Taeyong remains speechless momentarily to calibrate with his thoughts. He’s been hesitant with Jaehyun the second he saw return to church a lifetime ago. Always up to no good, yet never to start a fight because he’s not the type. And luckily, they never crossed paths outside. He recalls how nervous he was upon hearing from the latest gossip (aka your mom) that Jaehyun joined the Bible study as probation for his consistent outside bar fights. You’re a consistent goer, so he can only pray that nothing bad happens to you.

Over the course of time, he witnessed Jaehyun tame down and become more active in church. Rather than be bitchy, he was impressed. Only God can judge people, not him. Yet at the same time, he observed how more laidback you became. You’re firm to your beliefs and faith, but not really the toxic, conservative type to force others that your beliefs were better than yours. It was more like you’ve loosened up strings and allowed to let your hair down, socializing more and trying new things. Perhaps riled your mother up for being “unladylike” at times, yet it didn’t bother you anymore. If you had fun and hurt nobody, how should a conservative mother’s unnecessary opinion affect you?

So now, onto you and Jaehyun.

It took him back when you’d both get in trouble by the nuns for your arguments, earning a scolding from him on the phone because “you’re better than this!” or a similar kind of pep talk. It’s merely enemies to somewhat friends when he thinks of the both of you, especially when you opened up how you came into a compromising understanding with Jaehyun out of maturity.

But the idea of love came rushing as he unintentionally saw the two of you kiss on the second floor of the open church. Jaehyun’s palms were situated on your waist while your arms loop behind the nape of his neck, both of you smiling at every movement your lips made.

The second floor is where the choir stays, and you and Jaehyun were packing up their songbooks post-mass. He showed you the different colors of light being reflected from the stained glass artworks. Specifically the image of the Virgin Mary, it lit up the best before the sunset. The both of you were distracted from such beauty, and eventually towards each other when specks of colored light hit your faces. Caught up in a meaningful moment, a passionate kiss where your bodies are right in front of the big crucifix was followed.

A symbol of showing Him that love had no boundaries or limitations.

A symbol that further enlightened Taeyong on how you’ve both changed.

You and Jaehyun balanced each other out over time, so it should be a no-brainer that this was going to happen. Yet he chose not to say anything about it then because he wanted to hear it from you. It was clearly a private moment too. He could’ve been mad, but he wasn’t.

You’re in love, and it’s real.

However, it’s only leading into a loophole of misery. Arranged marriages are a given in your clan, hence refraining from creating close relationships with the opposite sex. Oh, how you broke that rule ruthlessly.

“Who else knows?” You quiver, self-conscious and vulnerable. Were you not secretive enough? Did the burner phones you and Jaehyun used were actually trackable? Did someone follow you? All sorts of questions cloud your already cluttered brain.

“Ten.” Taeyong bluntly responds, and you stiffened.

As much as you love Ten, any so-called steamy information he gets within his circle he uses it as blackmail just like Taeyong. You would know; you were there when he confronted your father about his affair with his mother. That if he has no place in his empire, he’d expose such a scandal. It’s no question your mother (his step-mother when he got adopted a month after the threat) despises him to the core, a lot more than her disloyal husband.

But before the paranoia can worsen, Taeyong chimes in. “Don’t even think he’ll use it against you. In fact, he’s in favor of such like I am.”

“Wait what?!” Now, you’re confused.

“I know I confronted you at the most wrong time, and my tone this whole time is very vague.” He clarifies, and with every word, he walks toward you. As his clammy hands now holding yours, he fully lets out his main truth. “You have to make a choice, and we know this wedding isn’t the right one.”

“Taeyong, it’s too late.” You beg, utterly weak in his eyes. And how it aches him to see you like this. “He’ll never take me back. Not after he found out about the news.”

“You can never be too sure, so I wholeheartedly think that you need to make a move.” Taeyong’s quick vision spots a growing tear in your lid, wiping it carefully with his index finger. “It’s always been you being a pawn in our parents’ game. But this time, change the direction and claim your power as queen.”

“But our younger brothers…”

“I failed to set a proper example before so please learn from my experiences, (Y/N). Show them that we cannot let ourselves be controlled by our parents.”

Right as you wanted to reply, an impatient set of knocks intrude your now-or-never conversation.

“I’m already annoyed that I wasn’t invited to your heartfelt chat.” Ten’s sarcasm pipes in, which eases the tension surprisingly. “But the wedding starts in 5, and I want to spend some time with the bride as well.”

Taeyong hastily unlocks the door, while you followed behind him. Lo and behold, Ten graces a mischievous smirk as he leans against the door frame. Taeyong pecks your temple a final with a fervent look screaming “time is running” before he runs to assist Jeno refix his necktie.

That leaves you with Ten. With his arms crossed, he first marvels at your beauty.

“My sister, ever so beautiful.” The sweet scent of his parfum whiffs your nostrils, making you hum in comfort and familiarity. Regardless of being half-siblings, you always treated him the same as the rest.

“Thank you for coming. I feared that you wouldn’t after your recent brawl with dad.”

“I’d never let any shitty fight with that monster stop me from see you walk down the aisle. Plus, when are we not fighting?” He jokes, his hands finding the cloth of your veil to help you put it over your head. As per tradition as the beauty of the bride must only be saved by her groom. “But are you really happy to be here?”

Always straight to the point, that was Ten for you. With one brow lifting upwards in question, he continues on. “I’ve always known that you wanted real love, and when you did, you chose not to go through with it.”

“It’s complicated, and you know that.”

“Do I?” He challenges. “You’re in love with a boy who’s part of the rival family. That’s not hard to piece together.”

“How do you even know it’s him we’re talking about?”

“What other guy, excluding us siblings, have you been constantly around with?”

“Doyoung is there.”

“But he came in the picture late. Jaehyun, however--” He lengthens the tension. “He may have gotten on your last nerve numerous times in Bible study, but not when I saw you both have a secret late-night date by the Han River.”

Your eyes widened. Taeyong was right earlier. “Excuse me what?!”

Ten laughs at your shock. “I was trying to easen my hangover from my bar-hopping adventures with our younger brothers that night, but definitely sobered up when I saw you and him giggling over the smallest things by the river.”

“Ten, I—” It was your only public date with him, when no one could ever question or follow your moves. Even managed to convince your parents that you needed fresh air that day after all the stress at the company headquarters.

“Life is too fucking short, (Y/N).” He lays out his advice flatly. No detours, no sweet words. Just the real, harsh truth. “If you don’t make a stand, the regret of it all will kill you.”

PRESENT TIME.

Time can’t spare you a moment to breathe to answer him or deny his intentions. Because the second the wedding planner stressfully calls you over to stand behind the main church doors, all you can focus was this event. This wedding, one that numerous people anticipated. Loads of influential families that are acquainted with your parents filled up every pew, bridesmaids and groomsmen are lining up to enter the church first.

On the other hand, your parents stood each side of you. They beam in excitement, while you try to match them. Everything is for their selfish sake, anyways.

As the doors officially open, harmonious music from the band on the second floor play for everyone’s glee. Couple by couple, flower girl after flower girl, then Doyoung’s youngest cousin as the ring bearer, every single person has their eye on you. How much you’ve grown over the years, the elegance you embody is simply natural and no gown or makeup can compete with that.

Especially your groom, who shares an enchanted gaze at you from afar. And as flawless as he looks in his black suit and tie, the truth-binding words of your older brother resurface your mind. From trying to appreciate the efforts put in making the church a more enamoring location for a wedding, uncontrollable tears grace your visage. You’re glued to the program of this show, and any refusals will be disrespectful.

“Don’t get too emotional now.” Your mother comforts, only thinking that you’re overwhelmed in joy. “It’s only getting better from here.”

Lies.

Only you and Doyoung can truly share the same feeling at this moment. Even if he finds you ever so dashing, he proceeds to mask his own pain with a tight-lipped smile as he watches you walk down the long, flowery aisle. It was a representation of your life together ahead, especially seeing the petals blacken from the dirt. The reality of it all is only hitting you now as your parents hand you over to Doyoung, who directs you to the center. His hands still hold on to your covered ones, keeping up your façade.

“I’m sorry.” He mouths.

“Me too.” You reply.

The first of many. Such a disgrace to the crucifix above, yes. But what else can the two of you do now?

The priest politely greets the two of you before the ceremony officially begins.

The first and second readings ran smoothly, being read by your father and Doyoung’s mother. It’s almost like a typical mass, where the Homily often bores you to the point you wanted to pass out. Even had Doyoung, who sat beside you, worried.

“You look pale.” He comments. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’m fine.” You reassure with a genuine smile. “It’s just hot in this church.”

“When has it not been?” He tries to joke, which you actually enjoyed.

Once the short-lived humor died down, you try to refocus your mind on the ongoing Homily. Surprisingly, you finally pick up and find yourself attentive for a change.

“Love is blind, they say. Perhaps, that’s true, as one cannot control how their heart can beat for another one. But there is also this saying: souls don’t meet by accident. Nothing in life is a coincidence: there’s always a reason why they meet. And when they do, it creates magic. They balance each other out in aspects they fall short, but not necessarily complete them. They bring the best sides of them out, yet fully let their vulnerabilities come under the light without fright. Because they know they’ll be protected than reprimanded.”

You’re unsure how restless your pupils became, eager for new perspectives. Maybe you need a fresher view other than the bright altar? If only you had your eye drops with you to alleviate the dryness, you certainly wouldn’t have felt this way.

As you blink once, twice, a couple more times, your eyes begin to feel better from the natural tears they make to lubricating itself. However, little did you realize where you were looking at.

From the altar, your vision went peripheral. By the second floor, right beside the choir, a silhouette stands up from their pew. Arms crossed and wrapping their arms around their blazer, he was rather suspicious. At this point, you’re quite acquainted with every guest present today. To the point that no one is meant to be seat up there unless you’re in the band.

You’re suddenly become aware that the longer you view that shadow, the weirder it’ll look for the guests. Your curiosity can really take you the far places, but often times, you need to be anchored before flying too far to the sun.

Speaking of which, the bright, shining light directly hits on the aforementioned shadow. Almost like a prayer, it heard you so it gave what you pleaded.

And man, you’re stunned by what unraveled before you.

His brown hair is styled upwards with a few strands in front of his forehead. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were folded to his elbows, while his black trousers have minor creases on the bottom hems. His eyebags darkened, showing lack of sleep on his end. However, his orbs greet yours with warmth. A reconnection, as you find it difficult to stray away. Dimples pop out as he smiles your way, fluttering your heart like a young teenager.

Why was it so familiar to you?

But there’s no way this was real, right? Have you started building delusions in your head as a coping mechanism to your upcoming lifelong misery?

You blink and shake your head for reassurance, but as you reopen your eyes, he was gone like magic. Yet his silhouette lingers through your mind. Alongside that, the ending words of the homily seeped through with a vengeance.

Or rather, redemption.

Because for some reason, the silhouette urged your mind to remember Jaehyun.

“The utmost beauty of these souls is how neither of them were looking when they found each other.” Insert the moment when Jaehyun emerges to the Bible study room for the first time 3 years ago. With a sinister grin and stance, he managed to lock strong eye contact on you as you were passing out Bibles to the other kids. How unshaken you were, yet so entranced by him.

“From meeting, in comes the unconditional love they’ll build.” The innocent memories of your relationship with Jaehyun when you started seeing each other romantically dance around your brain.

“In that love, they put effort everyday through the small things.” You’ve always liked white roses, while Jaehyun fancied sweet potato chips. Every getaway you both had, you’ve gifted each other with those items.

“In that love, it’s impenetrable to conquer every battle and fight that stampedes there.” If not your last encounter, there was one time you may have succeeded here. You recall defending Jaehyun from your parents at home when he put you trouble and “trouble” after Bible study. How even if he’s the so-called enemy, he’s a good person relearning what’s right from wrong. How he is not his family.

“And in that same love, it makes them feel at home.” Cue all the imaginative, future plans you and Jaehyun drunkenly made if your love story wasn’t an impossible tale. How you’d leave it up to the multiverse, you both giggled.

“So my brothers and sisters, in every story, these two souls here,” The priest naively refers to you and Doyoung. “It’s not a coincidence. The Lord knew what he was doing. He didn’t create a perfect love, but a love only the bride and groom would ever know and feel. Yet it’s a love He created in His likeness and image because He loves His children, and only bless them with eternal happiness with each other.”

In your parents’ eyes, they saw your future with Doyoung.

In your eyes, the future was set with Jaehyun. Wherever you are, all you can think of in every word the priest spoke.

And that future with him is ever so clear and beautiful…

Holy shit.

This wedding must not push through.

“Kim Doyoung and Lee (Y/N) have invited us to share in this celebration as they affirm their love before us, pledge their faith to one another and enter into the joys and privileges of marriage.” So caught up in your reverie, you’re back to standing up and facing Doyoung. The recitation of vows approaches. “If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two persons may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Stillness, much to your parents and Doyoung’s delight.

But now, you could care less about what others think. This needs to stop.

This is your life, and you’re reclaiming it as yours.

You need to run far, far away and find him.

Your real love, Jeong Jaehyun.

And to that, you pray within yourself:

“Oh Lord, save me, my drug is my baby. I'll be usin' for the rest of my life.”

“I can’t do this.” You object boldly, stepping back. “I can’t marry you, Doyoung.”

The audience behind you gasps, the priest and Doyoung especially. “What do you mean, (Y/N)?”

You felt so apologetic for his confusion. “You deserve someone who truly loves you without judgment.”

Your eyes peek over his shoulder to find a woman beside his younger brother Jungwoo quivers at the entire scene. The same woman whom you’ve found out was his first and only love, if not for you asking about her during your first encounter. Yet never did he act on his affections due to the standards of his family, and being the best friend of his brother. He feared of the consequences, but this is no time for fear.

It's time for action. If you’re going to make your move, so should he.

“Fight for your true love. Don’t make them take it away from you.” Your eyes linger momentarily on Doyoung’s real love. “Don’t let them take her away from you, and choose the life where you can be unapologetically and incandescently happy, Doyoung.”

No more words can Doyoung utter towards your plea, but instead lets his daring actions communicate back to you. It was the way his arms looped around her waist, hugging her for dear life. And how she gasped loudly the entire church can hear as she returned his empowering gesture, lacing her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, Sejeong.” Doyoung whispers a little too loudly. “It’s you. It’s always been you, and will forever be you I love.”

Not a breath wasted, these two lovers rapidly make their exit through an emergency door of the church. Doyoung utters nothing more to his parents, but expresses disgust and anger at how he glares at them. I’m done with your shit, his eyes read. Oh, how his dear mother cries out for him to come back while his father holds her back. Jungwoo, on the other hand, claps at his brother’s impressive move. He didn’t even bother listening to his father who ordered him to chase after him.

“They’ve always been in love with each other. Who are you to tell me to stop them?”

Meanwhile, time is ticking for you. You’ve had your run at playing matchmaker, now you need to return to your lover. One you can hope will take you back after your cowardice pushed him back to the pits of hell, while you crawled back to your seat in heaven. Although tainted you are, nothing but a few prayers and consistent good deeds will gain favor from Him again.

And so you ran. Heels of your heels click clack the marble aisle as you remove your gloves. Your freed fingers grasp on the fabric on your gown to move arther and farther away from the altar. Guests are even more bewildered by your actions, never expecting you to turn out this way.

“Lee (Y/N)!” Only the frantic voice of your mother halts you. Call it a natural reaction when you’ve grown up under her care, her ever so manipulative and overprotective care.

You huff, turning around. “What is it, mother?”

Only a few meters away from you, her hand hurtfully grips your arm. “Ow!”

“You disgust me.” She spits. “How dare you embarrass our family like this?! Have you no conscience?! Why are you acting like a child?!”

You scoff, annoyed. “I think I should be asking you the questions.”

“Excuse me?!”

You yank your arm away from her sharp fingers. Your posture stands a little taller, which is your way to signify confidence. Bravery from her threats.

“All my life, you dictated my every move. You constructed me into this good, religious good girl image so others can stray away from the corruption of our family businesses. You banned me to make my own choices and live my own life because you solely believe that your and father’s choices are the best ones. You taught me misleading ideals and beliefs, urging me to hate others who don’t resonate with me and abandon those who are lower than me. And now, you attempted to sell my freedom for the price of overflowing greed.”

You blurt out every ounce of pain you’ve gained all your life, finally relieving yourself of the burden. If only you could see the proud expressions your older brothers sport from afar, while your younger brothers can admire your courage. You’re finally taking a stand so neither of them would face a situation like this.

“You are lying!” Your mother tries to fight back, even if her lips quiver. Never would she think her only daughter could turn out like this. “That’s a sin, young lady.”

“But nothing as worse as greed, mom. One of the seven deadly sins, like you once taught me.” You smirk.

“Do not dare talk back to your mother!” Your father joins the heated scene. “What happened to you, (Y/N)? How did you turn out like this?”

You laugh, placing a hand on your chest to hold yourself back. “Your sheltered, devious way of parenting me and my brothers led me here. So much for saying we’re a self-proclaimed “God-centered” family when we are far from th--”

Your outburst is dramatically cut off with a stinging slap from your mother. Your legs give out from the impact as your butt lands flat on the marble. The crowd is in a disarray from the sudden commotion, full from all this information. Information that’ll give every journalist and gossip meals for months.

Meanwhile, all your brothers race to your aid. This has gone too far.

“You’re no longer my daughter, but the daughter of Satan himself.” Your mother rages while your palm covers your reddening cheek. You can only yourself back because physical violence shouldn’t be responded with the same thing. And being Satan’s daughter? So be it. It’s better than being the offspring of your parents.

“If not Doyoung, us, or your brothers, who would ever love and accept your lost, pitiful soul?”

“I would.”

A deep voice sends shivers to your figure. Almost like he’s enraged, you swivel your head to the source like everyone else.

It was none other than the silhouette from earlier, emerging from the darkness of the aisle. Except now, he was no regular silhouette. It embodies more sharpness and tidiness, like prestige and power exalts his bones. Almost like a complete redo.

Speaking of which, what your eyes laid upon prior wasn’t a hallucination. The more light from the church and the sun combined shines through, you managed to piece their appearance.

And how stupid you feel not to have pointed it out. The voice alone should’ve knocked some sense of you, because it was none other than--

“Jaehyun.”

The mentioned man continues to strut out, gradually exposing and making himself known to everyone present today. And it’s without a doubt that the gossip from this event alone can feed a whole country, especially with your father seething from his stance.

“Why is there a Jeong in this immaculate event?” He blames. “Have you not learned from your probation and dare barge in my daughter’s wedding?”

“What wedding, sir?” Jaehyun smirks sinisterly, slowly approaching your feeble figure. “It’s more like I witnessed physical and verbal assault against your daughter. In fact, everyone did. Including the Lord himself.”

“I oughtta-” Your father prepares his fist to meet Jaehyun’s face, if not Taeyong’s swift hand catching it.

“Not today, father. And never.” He throws a death glare at his predecessor.

Simultaneously, Jaehyun’s hands reach out for yours. You wobble for a bit when you get up, but you find your balance. His rage and frustration soften into concern at your overwhelmed state, lifting the veil over your head to cradle your weary face.

“Are you okay, my love?” His palm soothes your aching cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you on time.”

“You--” You start to choke on your words. “You’re here. You came back for me.”

“Of course, I did.” He grins genuinely. “I should’ve never left you like that back then. Not when we needed each other the most.”  

Before proper words can leave your scattered mind, your father screams like he witnessed a bloody murder.

“What is the meaning of this?! There’s no way this is the man you love, (Y/N)!” He screams, while your mother faints at the sight.

“Surprise, father.” You smile with mischief. “I fell in love with the so-called enemy, and I shall spend the rest of life eternally with him.”

“I object this union!”

“I don’t fucking care.” You curse without remorse. Sparing a loving glance at your man after, “Fuck you, mother, and everything else in this feud. I am done.”

Angrily, your father nearly charges in front of you and Jaehyun. But you’re spared in a flash if not for Taeyong and Mark pulling him back. Jeno and Haechan, on the other hand, hold on to her before she loses her consciousness again. And also avoid her from hurting you.

Ten calls out both your names from the side. Suddenly, a pair of car keys are thrown at your direction. Jaehyun catches them instantly.

“Save your sweet yet vengeful reunion someplace else and run! Now!”

You’ve completely forgotten how public this wedding was as every person spectate how you take hold of Jaehyun’s hand, leading you to a more private exit of the church. Taking the main doors will spark a frenzy by the paparazzi, and that’s the last thing you need on your agenda.

Now in the parking lot in the back, Jaehyun’s fingers from his free hand click the buttons of Ten’s car keys, One of the cars activates in perfect condition, lights flicking and beeping sonorously. And thank God, it’s right in front of you.

“Motherfucker, it’s a Ferrari.” Jaehyun marvels.

“Jaehyun, we gotta go!” You rush inside the shotgun, conscious of who may find the both of you.

It’s not a surprise that the journalists got ahold of your speeding departure since you have to drive out in front of the church to get away from it. Even if Ten’s windows were tinted so no one can detect who was inside, the guests finally vacated from the building and told their own versions of what unfolded in the supposed Kim-Lee union.

And while the news are brewing and buzzing, you and Jaehyun have absolutely no idea where to drive off to.

“That was insane!” You burst out. The adrenaline rush of it all still raced your veins, while Jaehyun’s attention is firm at the road ahead of him. “I never felt or done anything like this!”

He chuckles as his fingers retract to your hand again, lifting it to kiss the top. “You’ve turned into a bad girl, baby. What are we gonna do about that?”

“Would living a new, happier life for ourselves be the best way to avenge everything they’ve done to us?” You suggest. “I know we’ve been through a lot, but I was no better for letting you walk out like that without a proper fight for our love.”

Jaehyun sighs from the painful memory. “And I understood why you did. I had no right to pressure you into something so drastic when your family has already stressed you out enough.”

“But still!” You acclaim. “You’ve always fought for us, so I should’ve done the same before all of this happened.”

“So, you must truly love me.” Jaehyun attempts to lighten up the mood. Reaching a red light, he tilts his body to face you. Even after being chased down, he remains ever ethereal as beads of sweat rest on his brows and his once-perfectly done hair is crazily tousled.

“If I didn’t, I would’ve never caused a scene especially with God watching us.” You lean a little closer to him, resting both of your hands on his shoulders. If not for the car handle blocking you, you’d be sitting on his lap. “Because He sent you to me as a blessing. Not a curse from the devil, but a blessing who taught me to be brave and never take anyone’s shit.”

“Cursing like this still feels so new to me, baby.” The glimmer in his eyes darken with desire, moving closer to your lips.

“Better get used to it, sweetheart.” Merely inches left, your lips teasingly brush his. “It’s you and me until the end of the time.”

The confidence of your tone was met with the element of surprise when Jaehyun’s lips finally planted on yours. Your sultry yet romantic-filled words put all his senses of haywire, as if you bewitched him with your everlasting charms. Your lips curve into a smile as they part so his tongue can slide in. The taste of his favorite mint candy mellow your nerves down, easing you back to a calmer state of mind.

How you missed his touch.

How you missed his presence.

How you missed him, and everything that goes along with it.

As passionate as your affections are at the moment, it’s only to be interrupted by the loud, irritated honks from the vehicles behind you.

The red light has now turned green.

The two of you can only laugh in embarrassment, like two horny teenagers caught by their headmasters. Yet the youthful energy you both radiate remains. Jaehyun holds your hand again before stepping on the engine, rubbing the sides of your thumb.

“Oh, baby. I’d be more than glad to be sinfully vowed to you.”

5 YEARS LATER.

Jeong Estates and Co. secured the highest rank of top real estate companies within Seoul.  

This wouldn’t be made possible if not for Krystal Jeong, second in line at the Jeong family business. One of the Jeong cousins rather. No bitter feelings she felt on getting the job. In fact, she’s more than ecstatic to acclaim the highest position in their clan. As for Sungchan, he just entered law school in high hopes of taking over his mother’s law firm. But only years after taking the bar exam then starting for the bottom up. Often times, he secretly gives his older brother a call on his burner phone or vice versa. No matter what, they are still brothers. Heck, highly urged him to chase after you when he found out the truth behind his older brother’s love for you.

Lee Properties, the real estate company of Lee Corporation, are more focused on expanding their branches across the world. Ranking no longer mattered, as long as the quality of their work constantly. Mark, under the guidance of Taeyong and Ten in the beginning, took over the company. Thanks to the three, they branched out to the US, UK, and Japan. Family-wise, the 5 brothers isolated themselves from their parents since that day. Everything has become business for them. Because they refuse to be associated with people responsible for the almost-downfall of their only sister.

The general feud between families remain unsolved, even after the mayhem of the failed wedding. Although there have been are rumors circulating that the brothers of each family made amends, but nothing has been confirmed. The tension intensified, and no dares to get in their loop.

People who work in media make sure to never put them in the same room for interviews or events. People working in their companies dare not to speak of the enemy company. Anyone who’s within the presence of any family member can only bow their head and pray they don’t get called out.

Most of all, everyone goes silent of the forbidden romance built between their each of their children.

That’s the thing with the Lees and Jeongs: they’re old-money royalty with filthy history. If you get in their way, might as well say goodbye to everything you worked hard for.

That’s how powerful they are.

Yet only two people defied all the odds.

Speaking of them, where do you and Jaehyun stand?

“I’m home!” Jaehyun greets loudly as he opens the door. He drops off his satchel of tools by the doorstep, removing his dirty loafers and switching to house slippers.

“In the kitchen!” You respond. Just in time for dinner, you love how prompt he is.

From behind, warm yet sweaty arms wrap around your waist. He must’ve had a long day, especially when he was gone the moment you woke up. But it’s not much of a worry since you also had a early start that day.

“Smells good here.” Jaehyun’s chin tucks on your shoulder. “What are we having tonight?”

“Homemade ravioli as a gift from Francesca next door,” You continue stirring the aromatic pan. “With tomato sauce made by me.”

“Delicious.” He sniffs. “I missed you.”

You giggle from his short kiss on your cheek. “I missed you too, but you reek off sweat.”

“When am I not?” He teases. “Gotta earn to maintain this roof on top of our heads.”

“Keep that habit up, or someone else here might make me vomit like last time.” Your free hand lowers his hands to the bump of your swelling stomach. Perhaps only now did you believe that there is one when it used to be slightly flatter.

“Speaking of which,” He rubs it gently. “How’s she today? No trouble?”

“Thankfully, no.” You turn the stove off, satisfied with the finished dish. Turning around, your hands situate themselves on your lower back. A new habit since your body has been adjusting to all these new changes. “I’m confident the nausea is subsiding, but now my feet hurt like crazy.”

“My love,” Jaehyun coos, caging you in his arms. “How about I take a quick shower, enjoy this meal you made, then give you a foot massage?”

“Oh yes, that sounds divine.” You hum, pecking his lips. “Now get off me. You seriously stink as fuck.”

So much for your mood swings, Jaehyun chuckles as he makes his way to the bathroom of your master bedroom. You roll your eyes st the playful man while you prepare the dining table. Yet you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Life ever since that crazy day became more peaceful and joyful. Freeing to retake the control you have over your life, whilst sharing it with the man you truly love.

For a couple of months, you and Jaehyun resided in a private cottage somewhere deep in Jeju Island. Only he knew of its existence because he himself built it from the ground up. Formerly in the real estate, he’s always had an interest for architecture. But instead of picking that major in college (because his parents were against it), he studied elsewhere with his own money. It clearly paid off as it gave the two of you the perfect hideaway from all the drama.

And led the most memorable of nights in your shared bedroom, especially you finally confessed your deepest desire of him fully taking your purity away. Sure, virginity is a social construct but you trusted Jaehyun with your life. After everything you’ve been through together, how can you not?

One kiss is all it took before he had you squirming and moaning on his cock, thrusting and hitting your sweet spots. His words of praise in every movement led you one step closer to heave. You see, heaven wasn’t just a place you go to when you die in good spirits. But it can be through a person.

And his name was Jeong Jaehyun.

Physically, your body turned sore the following day. But emotionally, you’re thrilled. He took good care of you like the passionate lover he is, but that’s bare minimum. We shouldn’t celebrate those things, though there’s something unique about it when Jaehyun carrying you to a warm tub and feeding you your favorite homemade meals that very day. To make up for hitting it too hard, he egotistically claims.

But can you blame him?

Exactly.

Later on, the two of you permanently migrated to the countryside area of Italy. Having loved the quiet side of Jeju Island whilst craving a new adventure, Europe took an interest to the both of you. Italy became your top choice if not for having individual traveling experiences there. And how you equally enjoyed its culture and aura.

Thus, you wanted to create more memories together and start anew. And by that, you and him rented an apartment within Tuscany and worked different jobs from your university majors.

From being a business management major, you became an English teacher at the local elementary school. You enjoyed taking care of children, teaching them all new things and encouraging them to be their best selves. There are also times you walk some of them home if their parents cannot fetch them. Holding your hand so they avoid any cars passing by, your heart is full when they obey and tell you all sorts of imaginative tales. You adore their curiosity, and you always make sure to be the best role model you can be.

From majoring in finance, Jaehyun ventured into construction and architecture. He was always hands on, conceptualizing and building all sorts of things for other people’s needs. It’s a plus that he’s always followed an active lifestyle, his muscles making it easier to bring those things to different destinations. The big boss of the business he works for can rely him on him big time, saving money on gas for the moving truck. So it’s no surprises girls attempt to throw themselves at him for his looks and strength. But it’s nothing you worry about.

Because at the end of the day, it’s still you he comes home to you. And makes you come until all the stars of the universe are within your periphery.

With all the money you both earn (and pawning your unnecessary designer items), it eventually becomes enough for two things: building a new house and your wedding.

There’s a piece of land Jaehyun’s boss gifted him as gratitude for expanding his business, which is near one of his beloved vineyards. Since that day, Jaehyun devoted time and effort to build your dream home. With some help with friends he made from work.

It meant sacrificing alone time with him, which did strike an argument or two. But it’s nothing too big you couldn’t resolve. Because you’re both sure that his efforts are going to be worth it.

And how beautiful the final output was. Modern with a rustic feel, there were 3 floors to your entire home. With a patio, there’s also a garden of various flowers and crops you and Jaehyun planted during the construction process. And now, they’re finally coming in full bloom this time around. After that, you can see the various vineyards which trails to the best view of the sunset. 

Quite the villa, you two have. It has everyone in town wanting to take a visit whenever they can and how inviting you’d be to all of them for special occasions.

Upon tradition, the whole home was blessed by the priest before you fully moved in. And boy, nothing could hold you back from running through every furnished floor, only to hold and kiss your man for a job well done. But the mood became heated as his hands cup your butt and lifted you up as he lead you to your master bedroom.

Your wedding came shortly after. It was held at a small chapel within Tuscany, with locals you’ve befriended over time, your brothers, and Sungchan.

Yes, they accepted your private invitations and made sure not to disclose this event to anyone back home. Most especially, both of your parents.

You and Jaehyun feared your brothers wouldn’t get along the slightest. Initially, there was tension when you invited them to dinner at your new home. Mark, Haechan, and Ten inspected with Sungchan with suspicion, while the younger boy returns the judgmental loo. Jeno and Taeyong, on the other hand, fell silent as they didn’t want to utter a word at him.

Accepting Jaehyun took a while, so what more with Sungchan? He was outnumbered by your 5 prideful brothers, and based on the tales of your then fiancé, he was a good boy.

“Yah.” It was your sharp voice that cuts the tense air, which was a new experience for everyone. In fact, they’re all getting used to your newfound voice that’ll slice and dice anyone that disrespects you. “If you are all going to act like children, we’ll turn out m like our parents and those before. We’ll never end our feud, and hurt more people we love.”

“Whatever problems you have with each other, sort that shit out right now. Or we can kick you out, where the nearest motel is 4 hours away.”

So yes, you may have threatened them. But it does spark change within both families, especially when Jeno opened up about his interest for the law firm under Lee Corporation. He was in 2nd year of law school that time.

Instead of thinking as competition, Sungchan started up about his life as a freshman because it turns out that they’re studying in same school. Eventually, Mark and Taeyong came around to talk about their hobbies. And as for Haechan and Ten, they were responsible for filling up everyone’s wine glasses until everyone passed out in the living room.

You’re merely lucky how the wedding was still a week and a half away. But mostly, new friendships were made and you’re certain this will cause a major shift in the feud.

And finally, as you and Jaehyun said “I do” and sealed a kiss in front of your loved ones, off to your honeymoon you go. Funded by Taeyong and Ten (which you failed to reject out of embarrassment), you and Jaehyun went to your favorite Italian city: Milan. The both of you spent all the cash they gave to your heart’s content after putting them into your home and wedding, exploring the designer stores and shops of the locals.

With the former, it made you reminisce your younger self. The one who was so naïve to everything while she threw the money from mommy and daddy’s credit cards on bags and clothes. But now, designer items are just items with an esteemed name. Their worth is nothing compared to the culture of the locals back in Tuscany, and the love you continue to grow with Jaehyun.

It’s no wonder that over time, that same love eventually created something magical.

And it came in the form of your unborn child that you fiercely carry. It’s only like yesterday when you and Jaehyun anticipated in your bedroom for the tests you took. This came to be after your period not arriving, the weird food combinations you consume, and your mood swings being out of this world. Or that’s at least what Jaehyun shared, but he can be quite overdramatic at times.

As we return to the present time, you caress your hard tummy that holds so much life. How you feel the smallest flutter of your daughter as she continues to grow or the first time you heard her heart beat in the monitor. It still makes your heart soar when the doctor confirmed the gender of your baby. In a world of boys, another girl just like you made you feel complete. With Jaehyun, he’d have a little girl he can take to all sorts of adventures and dance around with.

Heck, he already made the crib from scratch from his excitement and cleared out one of your guest rooms for the baby. If that doesn’t soften your heart, you didn’t know what will. He’s always had a fondness for kids, especially with your profession. And now, the both of you shall have your own to take care and love.

5 months down, 4 more to go.

You lay on your back on the couch, resting your head by the edge. Your fingers skim through an open book as Jaehyun’s hands work their magic to relieve the constant ache of your feet.

“What matters most are the simple pleasures so abundant that we can all enjoy them...” You read aloud the text of your precious novel. The baby enjoyed being read to, whether it be from your or Jaehyun. Meanwhile, the mentioned man listens along as it is one of his childhood favorites. “Happiness doesn’t lie in the objects we gather around us. To find it, all we need to do is open our ey-”

A strong set of kicks to your gut interrupts your reading, a loud groan leaving your lips. Jaehyun’s alert to help you out, clutching on your stomach as you try to sit upright.

“What happened?” Jaehyun chides. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“She…” Your eyes begin to well up. “She’s kicking for the first time.”

The baby wildly makes her presence known as she remains persistent in her actions. Stunned, your hands find Jaehyun’s and place them on your stomach. This has never happened to either you, and both of you wanted to treasure the moment.

Your husband keeps quiet upon his amazement in feeling his small feet of his baby girl. He smiles, changing his hand positions to find her in your womb. It’s almost like you’re raising 2 kids.

“That tickles, Jae!” You squeal, readjusting your stance. Back pain is becoming a bitch lately.

“Does it hurt?” His hands stay put in one spot near your belly button, where your daughter enjoyed to play around the most.

You give a tight-lipped smile. “Not really, but now it’s a bit bothersome.”

“Oh no…” He says with worry, head leaning near your tummy to speak to your daughter. “Baby, don’t hurt your mommy. She makes sure you’re strong and well, so be nice, okay?”

You gush from his words. Your mind is elated to create future scenarios of their father-daughter bonding, something you wish you had more of when you were younger. But you know your husband, the family guy he’s become. Because you both made an oath to never become your parents, to be better and wiser.

Finally, the kicks weakened and felt your daughter rest on one corner of your tummy. By this time, she’s fallen asleep. And by her actions, it exhausted you as well as her unofficial punching bag. Jaehyun, who was bound to resume his massaging, catches you yawn and stretch your arms out.

“Tired?” He asks, and you nod.

“I think I’ll continue reading the book tomorrow.” You close your beloved copy of the Little Prince, and pull your feet off from your husband’s lap.

“Wait.” He stops you, standing up before you do.

You quirk a brow. “Yes, babe?”

“There’s no way you’re walking up the stairs with sore feet.” Suddenly, he lifts you off the couch as he carries you bridal style. You shriek with shock, but not loud enough to disturb your baby.

“Jaehyun! Put me down!” He shakes his head. “Am I not heavy? I’m carrying your child after all.”

“Nothing will be heavy enough when it comes to you and our baby.” He reassures. “Now, let’s get both of you to bed, hmm?”

Refusing his advances would be an endless fight, so you concede the moment you nuzzle your head on his chest. Fresh laundry, his scent fills your nostrils. You loved the warmth when he’s close to you like this, nearly dozing off when he walks up the stairs. He was your home, and you don’t ever want to leave him.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, is enamored by you each passing day. He witnessed all your good and bad times, the latter especially as they eventually led to the better days of your shared life. He didn’t want to admit how afraid he was when you two eloped from everyone, but you’ve always known. He didn’t have to tell you because you put in your own efforts to make him feel at bay. That it’s okay to feel vulnerable, that it’s okay to take risks. Because you were both in this together, that’s in the vows you unofficially said back in Jeju Island and reiterated in your actual wedding.

Another thing Jaehyun loved about you was this endless glow when you’re passionate about your job at the school, stand up for yourself, and express true joy from the small, finer things in life. But there came a unique kind glow you embodied since you told him the news of your pregnancy.

It was a major step in any loving relationship, and if there’s anyone he’d experience it with, he’s blessed that it’s with you. Like he once said when you were younger, you are God’s favorite angel.

When he gently lays you down on your side of the bed, catching how your eyelids effortlessly fell down, he kisses your forehead. “Good night, angel.”

As he rests on the opposite side, your hand finds his chest.

“Jae.”

Surprised, he moves to face your side. Your lids may be droopy, but you had extra strength to carress his cheek with the same hand. Under the moonlight from your balcony doors, he looked effortlessly beautiful. Even with some greying hairs on his nape, wrinkles forming in his forehead, and eyebags darkening from his restless nights, your heart is full of love for him. Whether it’s from your hormones acting up or not, that’s never going to change.

He's a representation of your bravery, and how glad you are to take on the challenge to push for your love.

Because in the end, it all worked out like you both wanted.

“Hmm, baby?” His hand cup yours.

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” You place his other hand on your tummy again. “On us.”

“Thank you for fighting for our love, for showing those who doubted us that it has a place in our world.” Jaehyun shares an endearing smile, paving a way for his remarkable dimples. Some things don’t age, like your youthful souls. Ever so daring and adventurous, parenthood doesn’t sound like such a bad idea if it’s two of you embarking on it together.

“Even if it almost earned a punch from my dad?” The once-frightening memory earns a chuckle from both your lips. Little did your younger selves know what they’d face after.

“What can I say? I meant every word I say then, to be put in his place.” He defends. “And you know what else I meant that day?”

“Enlighten me.”

Oh, you can only feel real happiness and gratitude for the man in front of you. He is a man of his word, and proved endlessly with his actions. And he shall continue to do so for the rest of your lives.

“I’d be more than glad to be sinfully vowed to you, (Y/N). Forever and always.”

copyright © 2022 by alluringjae.

[skywlker-sluvtt]

Hello! Congrats on 500 💘

Can I request B14 and “try to stay quiet understand?” if you would like. With Tech?

Thank you

OMG MY FIRST TECH REQUEST I AM SCREAMING!!!! I'm rewatching the bad batch so currently clone thirsting so hard <333

tech x afab!reader nsfw content below the cut (18+) word count: 1k

prompts: B14 Hands focus + “try to stay quiet, understand?”

Tech was currently at his workbench putting something back together. What was that? You were about to ask him before focusing on how his hands moved around the metal object. He was fixing wires before with such skill his fingers moved effortlessly, not fumbling once. You’d always thought his hand were hot. They were much bigger than yours, you adored it when he didn’t wear his gloves so you could see the few prominent veins that ran across them. He picked up a precision screwdriver carefully twisting something back into place.

You couldn’t help but adore his hands especially when you thought about how they felt on you. “Cyare, do you need something?” He questioned not stopping his movements at all. “N-No” You stuttered being pulled out of your trance, pulling out an extra stool you sat beside him to watch closer. He placed the contraption down before cracking his knuckles and reorganizing his desk. “Do you have a question? You’re staring very intently” He stated. “No, just watching you”

His eyes moved to yours and he followed your gaze to his ungloved hand. “Are you sure? You look quite focused on my hands” He continued. A tinge of pink coated your cheeks as your eyes met his. “Maybe I am” You teased taking his hand and placing his palm against your own to compare sizes. “Your hands are so much bigger than mine, and I like it…alot” You explained. “Of course, my hands are bigger than yours. Due to the fact that men produce more testosterone than women do, men often have larger hands than women. Male and female bodies grow and develop in different ways as a result of the differing hormones” Tech explains and you roll your eyes shaking your head.

“I know that Tech. I’m saying it kinda turns me on how much bigger you are than me, especially your hands” You smirk cutting straight to the point so he realised your intentions faster. “Oh, I see” He replied with a red tint across his cheeks and a small smile. “I just like how they feel on me, touching me” You whispered as he placed his hand atop your bare thigh. Your whole body warmed as he rubbed gently up and down your thigh. “Does that satisfy you dear?” He asked with a smirk.

You giggled and watched his fingers grab at the meat of your thighs gently. “Little bit more” You grin before he snakes his hands higher to meet the hem of your shorts skimming the tips of his fingers over it before continuing to your covered core. “Is that better for you Mesh’la?” He asks rubbing his thumb over your most sensitive area. The fabric rubbed firmly against your clit and you let out a subtle moan.

“Tech p-please,” You sighed aching to be closer to him. “Sit,” He said patting his lap with a somewhat smug look on his face. You gladly sit straddling his lap and discarding your shorts along the way. Pressing a few passionate kisses to his lips he chuckled softly. “Patience my dear” Tech said swiping a thumb across your lip and admiring your features. Rolling your eyes you sighed softly waiting for him to do as you asked. His fingers made your way to your heat at a torturously slow rate. “Is this what you were waiting for?” He asked teasing the edges of your panties, pushing them to the side slowly.

“You’re much more aroused than usual, have my hands really affected you this much?” He mused. “Yes, I love your hands Tech. Think about them all the time” You said resting your head on his shoulder. He moved his thumb through your folds, spreading you open to rub your sensitive pearl causing a quiet whine to leave your lips. He kept focus on your clit for a while and then slipped his index finger into your wet cunt. “Tech!” You sighed arching your back into him. He paused his movements and smirked. “Try to stay quiet, understand? You wouldn't want my brothers hearing would you?” He questioned. You hummed, clenching around his fingers.

“I’ll have to use my hand’s on you more often if you react this way” He mentioned adding a second finger inside of you, starting a steady rhythm against your walls. “Faster” You whined in his ear kissing the sensitive skin of his neck. He curled his fingers deeper feeling the way you throbbed against his fingers. “Very good my darling I want you to cum on my command, understand?” “Yes, kriff yes” You nodded.

Tech moved his thumb to rub against your clit while fingering you. The wet noises filled the small room on the ship. “Baby, I can’t-can’t hold it” You groaned squirming in his lap, rolling your hips against his fingers slowly. “You can my dear, your patience is exceptional” He said softly. He continued finger fucking you at a relentless pace, you grabbed his free hand and squeezed it hard. Your skin heated up immensely and your heart pounded heart hard against your ribs.

“Cum for me Cyare” He whispered eyes focused on your glistening pussy. Holding back moans you finally let go, your body shaking with pleasure as you moaned into his armour-covered shoulder. Your legs trembled with pleasure as your climax settled down and Tech continued to keep his dexterous fingers deep inside of you. “That was remarkable darling, by far one of your longest orgasms” He commented pulling his fingers out of you. You whined at the loss of contact still catching your breath.

He moved his fingers to your lips, covered in your slick he opened your mouth with his other hand. “Suck,” He said firmly, you did as he asked taking his digits into your mouth and licking them clean savouring the salty flavour of yourself. “Good girl,” He hummed retracting his hand from you before you noticed the red light blinking from his goggles. “Did you just record that?” You giggled. “For research purposes as always, would you like me to delete it?” “No, not at all” You smirked. “Good, now I’m not finished. Up on the table for me,” He said helping you onto his workbench. You could barely contain your excitement for whatever he had planned.

[mignonricciardo]

surprise, surprise pt. 2 | cs55

this has been so long in the making but FINALLY here is part 2 to surprise, surprise. there will be a part 3 that is all about dad!carlos and will be coming much sooner than this part (I'm already working on it) :D this is legitimately 12k words omg

summary: now that carlos knows your pregnant, its time to navigate the paddock and a looming public announcement. did I forget to mention the crazy f1 schedule while being 6 months pregnant?

warnings: fluff, more fluff, extra fluff, cursing, allusions to sex, a wee bit cheeky, mentions of hospital

“Well,” Carlos sighs as he flops into the couch cushions, “the team knows. I just got off the call with Mattia and some others.”

“What did they say?” I ask him, leaning against the kitchen island as he rubs his face with his hands.

“A lot of congratulations,” he grins as he tips his head back to look at me. “Silvia already wants to get us a tiny Ferrari shirt.”

I can’t contain the grin that starts to spread on my face at the thought of the tiny tee, “What’d they say about racing and the schedule?”

“I told them about the timeline and that we’ll probably come short of the summer break,” he begins. “We discussed the logistics of missing a race. Mick or Antonio would fill in.”

“You’re not missing a race,” I shoot back at him just as he finishes his statement. “Based on everything I saw in Barcelona, you have a chance this year, love. A real chance.”

He chuckles as he runs his fingers through his hair, “As much as I love you fighting for me in this, the baby is going to make the decision for us, no?”

“Carlos,” I whisper, voice suddenly cracking as tears threaten to spill over my eyes.

He spins around suddenly, taking in my sudden emotions and stands from the couch to approach me. I dab my fingers underneath my eyes trying to stop the tears, and Carlos wraps his arms around me as they fall anyway. He laughs softly as I lean into him, sniffling against his shoulder.

“Pregnancy hormones?” he asks calmly, hands rubbing circles against my back.

I nod against him, fat tears landing on his shirt, “I just don’t want to mess this up for you. Every point matters.”

“Corazón, my family matters more to me than a championship,” he whispers as tears continue to fall. “Besides, we will figure it out when we get there. We have some time.”

“I’m just emotional,” I mumble, squeezing my arms around his waist. “Been thinking a lot.”

“I know,” he leaves a kiss on top of my head. “I’m always here to listen to you. Now, let’s get ready to have dinner with our parents. I don’t want them to see you have been crying.”

He smiles softly as he takes a step back, wiping the tears from beneath my eyes as I sniffle. I’m grateful for his small act, relishing in his touch before pulling myself together. We both walk toward the bedroom in our shared apartment, and Carlos freshens up while I change out of my leggings and t-shirt into a sundress and jacket. Carlos grins as I pull the t-shirt over my head, eyes watching as I tug the sundress over my curves. His fingers glide along the small of my back across to the front of my stomach, lingering over the barely there bump easily concealed beneath the fabric. I catch his grin in the mirror as he looks where his hand lingers. My fingers rest over his, and both of our eyes meet in the mirror with wide smiles. He kisses my cheek before pulling away, rounding up the rest of our stuff before locking the apartment and heading toward his car. We settle into the Alfa Romeo, Carlos shutting the door for me before climbing into the driver side. The drive toward the restaurant is easy with little traffic, and I pick at my nails nervously.

“It’s good you’re getting rid of the Golf,” I grin sheepishly at him. “We have to keep this for the baby.”

“They won’t ride in the new Ferrari?” he glances at me with a laugh.

I shake my head, “Think you can add to the customization and include a car seat?”

He shakes his head this time, laughter shaking his shoulders, “It’s crazy that we’re talking about car seats right now.”

I agree with him, falling silent as I pick at my nails. He notices my silence, reaching across the console to hold my hand with his. Our entwined hands rest in my lap, his knuckles brushing against my hip, and his thumb rubs gently against the back of my hand. Music fills the stretching silence before I speak with my eyes focused on our hands.

“Are you nervous?”

Carlos is quiet for a moment before he admits anything, “A little. I’m nervous to look your dad in the eye now.”

I laugh at his comment, rubbing my fingers across the back of his hand as some of my nerves fizzle with his joke, “You can’t be serious, Carlos. He’s going to want a hug from you. The man adores being a grandpa.”

“Corazón, I can’t hug him now that he knows we had sex,” his voice is serious as he glances at me.

I laugh wildly at his comment and red cheeks, feeling tears in the corner of my eyes, “Babe, I’m 27 and we’ve been together for years. He doesn’t live underneath a rock!”

He laughs gently at my reaction, squeezing my hand again for a sense of comfort, “It’s just a lot we’re about to tell them with the baby and the contract extension. I’m nervous about all of it.”

“I am, too,” I assure him. “We’ve got each other, though. We can do this.”

The restaurant is bustling, and Carlos and I hold on to each other’s hands with an iron grip as the hostess leads us to our table. Nausea grips me as our parents stand to greet us, pulling us both in for hugs all around the table. Carlos reluctantly lets go of my hand in the flurry of embraces, but he pulls my chair out for me before he settles at the table. In the spot next to me, he reaches for my hand beneath the table. Easy conversation passes around the table, and while I try to hide my nerves, the nausea continues rolling in my stomach. My mom notices my demeanor, and she checks in on me to make sure that I’m okay. I nod my head, assuring her I am fine, but she notices the way I pick at the meal in front of me. When a lull in the conversation appears, Carlos grips my hand with a squeeze and glances at me. His raised eyebrows ask if I’m ready, and our parents watch as I nod my head at him.

“Thank you for meeting us today,” Carlos begins, motioning toward my parents. “Especially you two for taking time out of your vacation to come. There’s a couple things we want to tell you.”

“You got the contract?” my dad blurts out with a beaming smile.

My mother scolds him for his intrusion, but Carlos nods with a wide smile. 

“I’m locked in with Ferrari through 2024,” Carlos grins as the table erupts in cheers. 

All four of our parents congratulate him with his dad clapping him on the shoulder. My mom leans into Mrs. Sainz, and the pair laugh as my mom congratulates Carlos. I press into Carlos’ side, his arm keeping me up as I lean into him. His presence is grounding as the scene of congratulations unfolds before us. He smiles gently as another lull in the conversation appears.

“The contract extension isn’t the only news we wanted to share,” Carlos begins, glancing at me briefly as he squeezes my hand.

Our parents hang on to our silence for a moment, looking at the two of us intently as if we we’re the only table in the restaurant. 

“Before you ask, we’ve figured out a plan,” I say, feeling my nerves leave bile crawling up my throat. “We’re not going to risk the news of the extension or the coming season.”

This time Carlos looks directly into my gaze, a gentle smile across his face and warmth in his eyes. His look encourages me, and the squeeze of my hand beneath his pushes me forward. I set the two small boxes down--one in front of each of our moms--and wait for them to open them. My mom gasps first when she sees the pregnancy test nestled in the box, positive reading clear as day. Carlos’ mom bursts into tears, looking at me and her son with a wide smile as she asks if it's true.

“I’m pregnant,” I say, nodding gently before turning to Carlos with a smile. “Just past four months.”

Our mothers each gasp excitedly, clutching each others’ hands as they look at the two of us. Our dads stare with a shocked expression, jaws slack and eyes wide. I grip Carlos’ hand like a lifeline, feeling waves of nausea underneath the stare of our parents. He chuckles nervously as he squeezes my hand, “It’s a surprise, no?”

It’s my mom’s turn to let out a choked shriek as she stands to hug me tightly. Tears from her cheeks land on my shoulder as she embraces me tightly. She turns to Carlos to hug him as his mother follows suit. Our fathers follow, clapping each other on the back before embracing us. I catch my dad hugging Carlos with a broad grin, excited eyes gleaming in the warm light of the restaurant.

“An accident?” my father asks, a sly grin on his face despite the happy tears in his eyes. 

“Uhm, yes sir,” Carlos clears his throat nervously. “I have nothing but the best intentions, and I’m never going to leave her side.”

My mom laughs wildly, “Love, quit scaring him! Carlos, honey, we adore you.”

My dad chuckles at Carlos’ stifled reaction, “I don’t doubt your intentions with my daughter, but if you ever hurt her, consider your racing career gone.”

The table erupts with laughter, and the nausea ebbs as everyone begins asking questions about anything and everything. Once we’ve finally exhausted our reservation, hugs and cheers are passed around the group in the parking lot. Carlos opens the door to his Alfa Romeo for me, making sure I’m situated before he shuts it behind me. The ride back to his apartment is easy, and the atmosphere inside the car is much lighter than the previous drive. I sneak glances at him while he drives, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my leg. A relaxed smile graces his features, and his brown eyes crinkle around the edges. I can’t help but kiss him at a red light, already planning a long night ahead of us, and he smirks knowingly. 

The start of the season is a whirlwind, full of all kinds of changes. I start traveling to nearly every race with Carlos, opting to work remotely as much as possible with my growing bump, and he makes excuses as to why I’m at grand prix weekends more frequently. We decide to hold off on an official announcement, only sharing information with our closest family and friends and those who need to know on the team. When my bump really starts to show, my wardrobe shifts to a rotation of shapeless dresses and a combination of cardigans, jean jackets, and unbuttoned linen shirts. The flowing material helps to conceal our ever-approaching secret. I pull a similar outfit on, grinning as I wear one of Carlos’ favorite sundresses, before heading to the Ferrari-crazed paddock in Imola. 

“So,” Charlotte grins with her arm looped through mine. “A little birdie tells me something.”

The Ferrari hospitality suite is nearly empty as mechanics, engineers and drivers take to the garage to prepare for the sprint race during their home race weekend. My eyebrows are raised at her comment, nerves settling in my stomach as she glances around before looking at me again.

“Before you get mad at him, I could tell Charles was hiding something. He was acting weird when I asked him about bringing you and Carlos out to the vineyard,” she begins, voice quiet as she speaks. “I practically forced it out of him. Congratulations!”

I laugh at her preface, imagining the look on Charles’ face when his girlfriend all but cornered him into revealing the secret, “Well, since you’ve got it out of him, thank you! You haven’t told anyone else, have you?”

She shakes her head “And betray your trust? Never. Us Ferarri girls have to stick together. Someone has to keep those drivers in check.”

I laugh again at her comment, knowing the truth about the two boys all too well, “I appreciate it, Charlotte. We’re trying to keep it a secret for as long as possible to extend our privacy. I don’t know how much longer it will last.”

“When are you due?” she asks with genuine interest. 

“I’m hoping I make it to the very end of July,” I begin, fingers mindlessly resting on my growing bump. “I don’t think we’ll be lucky enough to make it to the summer break, though. Mattia’s doing extra work with Antonio and Mick in case I go early.”

“Your six months already!” she gasps, looking at where my hands rest on my abdomen. “I never would have guessed!”

I laugh at her reaction, “The sundresses and jackets help hide it, but I don’t know much longer I can do that. I think some fans already have some ideas. I’ve been to every race weekend since the season started wearing variations of the same outfit every day in the paddock. It’s a little suspicious, no?”

“Well, whenever you decide to announce it more publicly, I’ve got your back,” Charlotte grins, looping her arm through mine again. “Is your family planning you a baby shower?”

“I’ve asked them not to,” I have to yell over the roars of the crowd in red. “It’s just too hard with the race schedule and having everyone travel.”

Charlotte frowns as she looks at me, “You’re not going to do a baby shower?”

I shake my head, “It’s a lot for everyone to try to plan, and I’m forcing Carlos to focus on racing as much as possible. I already feel guilty for making him potentially miss a race.”

As she is about to answer, my face contorts into a strange expression as I feel movement. My hands press against my abdomen, feeling another swift bump, and Charlotte looks at me with concern in her features. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she asks me what’s wrong. Without an answer, I grab her hand and place it where mine had just been. With another bump, softer than the first, her eyes go wide as a smile spreads on my face.

“Did you feel that?” I ask her. “She’s never done that before. Little things only I could feel, but nothing like this.”

She nods her head wildly, “Oh my god, did you say she?”

I laugh, still holding both of our hands to my ever-protruding stomach, “We don’t know for sure yet, but I think it’s a girl. Carlos thinks it’s a boy. We want to wait a little bit longer, but our moms know. They were adamant so they could start buying stuff.”

The baby kicks gently again, and Charlotte’s mouth is open in awe, “We need to be in the garage when the sprint race ends. You have to tell him right away.”

“As long as there are no photographers around besides team staff,” I smile gently. 

As we walk back toward the garage, listening to the buzz of cars through the paddock, Charlotte grins cheekily, “I can’t believe one of her aunts felt her kick before her own dad.”

I laugh loudly at her comment, drawing attention of other guests passing by as they attempt to focus on the cars whizzing by, “Charles will be jealous of you, too. He’s secretly so excited. He accidentally told Carlos that.”

We stand in the garage, luckily situated behind other onlookers because I can’t find it within myself to pull my hands away from my stomach. Charlotte stands close next to me, angling herself so that if the cameras cut toward us they only catch a glimpse of my face. I quietly thank her, and she nods as she links her arm through mine. Engineers cheer when the cars arrive back into the garage, and I grin as Carlos and Charles walk back into the garage. Carlos’ hair is wild, standing up in dark tufts as sweat drips from his hairline, and his overalls hang open where he has unzipped them on his chest. I feel as if I’m going to start drooling as I take in his tanned skin complimented by the red of his suit. Charlotte elbows me with a chuckle at my ogling. After congratulations from their engineers and Mattia, the two drivers walk toward us. I throw my arms around his neck, grinning as I mutter a congratulations near his ear. His arms wrap tightly around my waist, and I’m sure a camera somewhere has picked up on our lovefest. 

His driver’s room is fairly pristine, and when he enters the door, I’m sitting on the couch grinning like an idiot. His eyebrows are raised when he sees me, and I blurt out just as he’s shutting the door behind him.

“The baby kicked today!” I grin widely. “Even Charlotte felt it.”

He rushes toward me, hands reaching for my stomach before he looks at me with a confused look, “Charlotte?”

“You really thought Charles wouldn’t tell her,” I chastise him, laughing as he smiles.

“He kicked?” Carlos looks at my stomach in awe, hands rubbing across the fabric of my dress.

“She did,” I smile, hands resting over his as he laughs at my comment back.

“He’s practicing braking,” he grins, eyes looking up at me as he leans in for a slow kiss. 

“Mm, whatever you say,” I chuckle against his lips, relishing in his touch.

The race on Sunday ends prematurely with Carlos beached in the gravel. My heart sinks, and I can’t help the tears pricking at my eyes. Charlotte never leaves my side as we wait for Carlos to make his way back to the garage, and she once again shields me from prying eyes and cameras. Her hand squeezes mine as I sniffle, and despite the funny looks from other people around us, she never questions my reaction as she knows about the hormones coursing through me. I whisper a quiet thank you, and her hand squeezes mine as she never tears her eyes away from the screen following Charles’ car. When Carlos walks into the garage, his helmet is still on, and the sign that he doesn’t want to talk makes me even more upset. Engineers clap him on the back, and he only pulls his helmet off to speak to Mattia at the pit wall. I watch him closely, feeling sadness roll through me as frustration radiates from him. I hug him tightly when he approaches and kiss his cheek before he heads to his driver’s room to prepare for the media pen. 

The race doesn’t end well for Charles, either, and I am there to support Charlotte as we wait for him to make it back to the garage. Back sitting in hospitality, waiting for the boys to return from their debriefs and thanking the team, Charlotte and I scroll on our phones. She nudges me gently with her elbow, holding her phone screen out to me.

“Don’t freak out,” she whispers as I take the phone from her hand. 

There are pictures of me and Carlos walking into the paddock, hands held between us as we laugh at something one of us had said. I scroll to the third image, eyes going wide as I see where the wind blew the fabric of my dress taught, revealing my stomach beneath the flowing fabric. My fingers swipe away from the images, reading the caption on the tweet.

Are y’all seeing what im seeing

Omg bri no way you just said that

Im just repeating what kym illman said he knows all about wags

Baby 🌶

You said it not me

Nausea grips me as I read more replies before turning to Charlotte, “Do you think there’s more?”

She takes the phone from me, scrolling through more, “Word must travel fast. There’s more speculation from fans and some other people. There’s people pretty involved in the online communities who have some credibility wondering, too.”

I groan as I toss my head back against the couch, “This has to be a joke.”

I pull my own phone out, scrolling through posts on different platforms to see what people are saying. Word must spread like wildfire, or paranoia grips me deeply, because the longer we sit on the couch, the more I feel like people’s eyes are on me as they pass. Charlotte looks around, too, playing the role of protective sister if someone’s eyes linger for a moment too long or their whispers follow their stares. My phone lights up with a text from Carlos that makes my nausea roll even deeper. The baby kicks in response.

Where are you right now?

Charlotte responds for me as my fingers shake too much as they hover over the keyboard.

Hospitality with Charlotte we’re just waiting for you guys to finish

His response comes almost immediately.

I just got out of an interview where they asked me a weird question and Silvia showed me some stuff after. Are you okay?

“Oh my god,” my voice warbles as my head spins, and panic grips me as it rises up my throat. “Please call him.”

Charlotte quickly hits the button on his name, and he picks up after only two rings. She begins speaking before he even has time to say hello.

“It’s Charlotte. We’re on a couch in hospitality. Can you get here?” she looks at me worriedly as she continues speaking. “We saw stuff on social media, too, and she’s freaking out. I’m scared she’s going to be sick.”

I can hear his voice on the line, and suddenly she is putting my phone back in my hands and guiding it to my ear.

“Corazón?” his voice is calming as he says the name I had grown so accustomed to hearing from his lips.

My breath is shaky and shallow when I answer, “What did they ask you?”

He pauses, and my panicked voice sounds angry as I gasp for air, “Carlos Sainz, don’t you dare hesitate.”

“They asked me if you were expecting,” he whispers, and I hear shuffling on the other end as his pace picks up down the paddock. “I had no idea where that had even come from, and then Silvia showed me the stuff on social media.”

My heart feels like it's beating out of my chest, and I can feel the baby doing what I assume are somersaults, “Are you almost here? I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

“I’m on the way. Just-” I can hear commotion on the other end, and he apologizes to someone for not stopping. “I’m almost there. Take a deep breath.”

“How did you answer?” my chest heaves for air. “The interview. What did you say?”

“I laughed and told them it was news to me,” his voice is quicker than his usual timbre as he moves through the paddock. “It absolutely shocked me, but I hid it.”

“What if they know you’re lying?” my thoughts continue spiraling, and Charlotte’s eyes go wide as she tries to calm me down.

“Don’t worry about it, corazón,” he mutters another apology to someone. “They can say whatever they want about me. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I can’t make it back to your motorhome,” I start, eyes blurring with tears. “They’ll take pictures and-”

“Breathe, just breathe,” his voice brings me back to reality. “I’m almost there.”

When Carlos finally does come through the hospitality doors, he draws some attention as his head cranes looking for us. He catches sight of me, and his eyes never leave mine as he approaches. Charlotte fills him in quietly, trying to avoid drawing any eyes to us. His arms wrap around me as she speaks to him, strong arms settling beneath mine that hang around his neck. I squeeze his shoulders, finding comfort in the warmth of his skin against mine and the resistance his shoulders have as they press into my forearms. His embrace has a grounding effect, and when he pulls away, he nods his head to something Charlotte had said before helping me to my feet. 

“We’ll make it to the motorhome,” he whispers, eyes never leaving my gaze. “Trust me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

I nod slowly, and he thanks Charlotte before holding my hand in his. We weave through the paddock, working our way behind team buildings and gates rather than through the traditional walkway. I feel like my heart is going to burst from my chest, and my lungs burn as Carlos opens the door to his motorhome, ushering me inside quickly. After nearly an hour, the panic finally passes. I’m sprawled on the bed in Carlos’ motorhome, back aching and head throbbing. It feels like my lungs are still searching for air. Charlotte checks in twice, bringing Charles by to let the two drivers commiserate over their poor home race for the Scuderia. Carlos only leaves my side to grab another water for both of us. Our phones lay on the other side of the room, turned to do not disturb after I screamed about the incessant buzzing. The mattress dips beneath me as his weight shifts, and I find comfort in his hand that works at the tension at the base of my neck. The room is quiet, and he waits for me to break the silence. 

“I’m sorry,” I whisper quietly, voice barely audible over the motorhome air conditioning. 

“There’s no need to be sorry,” he responds, fingers working through my hair. “Are you feeling better?”

I nod my head, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers rub my head and gently sweep through my hair, “Better than I was. It’s a little hard to tell what is from the panic and what is from being pregnant.”

He chuckles gently, lips pressing to my forehead, “I was scared when Charlotte answered. First, I was terrified something happened to you. Then, I was worried it was the baby.”

His free hand rests gently on top of my stomach, and I look up at his face to watch his expression. His eyes are soft around the corners and his gaze gentle as he looks at my swollen abdomen. Brown eyes are wide as he stares, and his eyebrows are relaxed. Pink lips part ever so slightly. It’s a look of love so obvious he may as well have it written across his forehead. One of my hands rests on top of his, and I smile as our fingers overlap. 

“Should we just announce it?” my voice is quiet, fingers twiddling with his against my stomach. “Do we get ahead of it?”

“Is that what you want to do?” his voice is quiet, touch reassuring as his other hand melts the tension in my neck. 

“Well, we’re getting to a point where I can’t exactly hide it anymore. I think it’s only a matter of time before it's clearly a baby bump no matter what I’m wearing,” I lean my head against his shoulder, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body. 

“I can call Checo,” Carlos says, reaching for his phone with outstretched fingers as his hand falls away from stomach. “He’s done this before, and he won’t steer us wrong.”

I laugh at the idea of Carlos calling Checo, searching for his advice on how to handle this, but I am treated when Carlos does call the other driver. He places his hand back on my bump as he chatters away with the other driver, indulging in their native tongue in a rare occurrence off the grid. I listen in on their conversation, catching every word rolling off Carlos’ tongue. He thanks Checo after he tells him about our situation which the Mexican driver surely congratulates him for. Carlos congratulates his fellow driver on the looming arrival of his own child. When he hangs up, Carlos leans back into the pillows against the headboard.

“He said it's completely up to us. The way they did it was his wife announced it,” Carlos’ voice is quiet, dark eyes holding my gaze. “He posted it a few days later once the news set in.”

I nod my head, “I still want some more time of just us to be able to process everything, but I have the pictures from Melbourne. I guess if we’re going to do it, those are the pictures to use. They are pretty cute.”

“Are you sure about this?” his voice is gentle as he leans in to kiss my forehead. “I want this to be your decision, not influenced by everything going on.”

I nod my head, laughing gently as I lean into him, “I’m sure, love. Plus, everyone will be so excited that they can talk about it now. Silvia can finally show off the t-shirt.”

He laughs along with me, capturing my lips this time before pulling away, “You just tell me when you’re ready, and I’m behind you.”

Once the chatter of the home race had slowed, and the speculation around me lost a bit of steam as no additional pictures had come out, Carlos and I have a bit of time at his apartment in Italy. It feels like pregnancy kicks into high gear as I transition from 25 to 26 weeks, and suddenly everything seems to change overnight. After a lengthy phone call with Marie and Carmen, and even some input from my mother over Carmen’s line, I am waiting for Carlos in the kitchen to return from his training session. He drops his bag by the front door, grinning as his eyes meet mine in the well-lit kitchen. I can’t bring myself to look away from him with his damp, dark hair and tan skin. His biceps strain against his t-shirt sleeves, and his chest pulls the fabric taut around him. He chuckles at my ogling, and I struggle to keep myself from launching myself at him and having him take me on the kitchen counter.

“You’re staring,” he chuckles, leaning in to kiss me as his arms wrap around my waist.

I use all of my willpower to eventually break away, “Let me get this out before I literally beg you to throw me on to the bed.”

He laughs wildly at my comment, nodding his head for me to continue. He watches me with a dopey smile across his face, unable to wipe the grin from his lips. I hand him my phone, showing him the drafted Instagram post. He smiles fondly at the picture, a shot of us in Melbourne at a family friend’s ranch. We are wearing simple clothes, unaware of the picture his sister was taking, and laughing as both pairs of our hands rest on my stomach. Without the flowing dresses, the bump was obvious in the tank top I had on. Carlos is tagged in the image, and he laughs as he reads the caption.

Future F1 driver in the making🏎🏁

“You approve?” I laugh, and he nods his head.

Before I can take the phone back from him, he hits post on the draft, letting the information reach whatever corner of the internet it was destined for, and he turns my phone to do not disturb. I scold him for hitting publish without my approval, but my annoyance quickly falls away when I see the look in his eye. He sets the phone on the counter before placing his hands back on my body, sliding from the small of my back past my bum to rest on the back of my thighs.

“Now, where were we?”

Messages of congratulations roll in for nearly a week, picking up when Carlos reposts our picture followed by Ferrari and then F1 official accounts. It seems everyone has a bit of baby fever going around, and we are only fueling the fire. Once it has been announced, it feels like things begin happening at rapid speed. The baby starts practicing her braking at all hours of the night, forcing Carlos to stay up with me when he should be prepping for another race weekend as what should have been temporary nausea turns into a daily occurence. My skin clears up with that signature pregnancy glow, but my back and feet begin aching frequently. Carlos becomes even more protective than he had been before the public announcement, leaving a hand on my back or waist any time we are out or holding my hand in his through the paddock. People in polos from every team up and down the grid pat him on the back or wish me luck with a soft smile as we stroll through the paddock. I secretly relish in his attention, cheeks glowing and heart pounding any time his skin comes into contact with mine. 

Arriving back in Spain for his home race is particularly special as his family is planning to attend the race. He has a sold-out grandstand at the track, and Barcelona is already full of Ferrari logos by the time we arrive. In his sister’s hotel room, I lean my hips against the counter to get closer to the mirror as I apply makeup. Ana laughs as I get frustrated with my now seven-month stomach getting in the way, and I yell at Carlos in the other room--blaming him for my predicament--which he and his brother-in-law respond to with laughs. Once I’ve given up on trying to finish my makeup, I sit on the couch, and Carlos slips my sandals onto my swollen feet for me. He kisses my forehead as he stands, and I whisper a quiet thank you as he helps me to my feet.

“Are you sure this dress is okay?” I ask Ana, smoothing around the material across my stomach. “This place is fancy that Charlotte picked.”

Ana nods her head, smiling as her brother wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder, “You look great, I promise. Plus, he can’t stop staring at you so I’d say it works.”

We all laugh as Carlos tries to defend himself, but Ana’s husband ushers us out the door to avoid being late. The Barcelona sun is hot on my back as Carlos helps me into the passenger seat of his Ferrari for the weekend, and Ana snickers as she watches me try to maneuver my way into the low seat. Getting out of the car is even worse, and Carlos has to practically pull me from the leather seat onto my feet. The valet watches with amusement. Ana gives Charlotte’s name to the hostess for the reservation, and she smiles warmly as she leads us on a winding path through the crowded restaurant. Carlos’ hand never leaves its protective place on the small of my back. She stops in front of an entry way, and just as I’m about to ask if we’ve taken a wrong turn, she opens the door and tears prick at my eyes.

“Surprise!”

The room is full of our families and some of our closest friends, and they’re all cheering with smiles on their faces. The room is bursting with faces from the grid, and they hold gift bags and wrapped boxes in their hands. Tears start immediately down my cheeks, and Charlotte laughs as she approaches me with her arms outspread.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she wraps her arms around me.

“Did you do this?” I ask her, attempting to wipe my tears as she pulls away from me.

She nods with a grin, “Ana, Marie and Carmen helped, and so did your mums. It was my idea, but I found a way to contact all of them.”

A fresh round of tears start as I hug her again, “What would I do without you around all the time?”

She sends me on my way to make my rounds, and tears continue sporadically as I hug more and more of my closest friends and family. Carlos works his way through the room, and once we’ve thanked everyone for coming, Charlotte directs us to our seats at the head of the table. The room laughs as I let out another cry when he pulls my chair out for me, and I quickly blame the hormones. He sits closely next to me, our arms brushing as we eat the food that is brought out. Conversation flows around the room easily, and I’m sat in my brother’s chair as he chats to Carlos while I speak to Marie. I laugh as Carlos holds my niece, putting the toddler up on his shoulders so she can look at the decorations more closely.

“He’s going to be such a good dad,” Marie comments, nodding her head at her daughter and Carlos. “He’s a natural already.”

“It’s funny,” I grin. “That’s what started it. Over Christmas in Mallorca, and he was holding her. You totally caught us talking about having sex later that night.” She laughs loudly, hand covering her mouth and eyes watering, “You’re right! I warned you, too! Little did we know.”

I laugh along with her, “Well, it makes sense why I wanted him so badly.”

“It’s crazy, no?” she asks, both of us watching Carlos with my niece. “It was like every part of you knew except your brain.”

“God, everything else sure knew,” I groan. “I can’t keep my hands off of him. It’s only gotten worse.”

“I told you that would happen!” Marie laughs, drawing the attention of our doting partners. 

“What would happen?” my brother asks, taking a step toward us.

“Nothing, Steven,” I quickly cut him off. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something, mi amor,” Carlos uses the nickname that makes my legs turn to jelly, and I know I’m done for as his words replay in my mind.

“Steven, you really don’t want to know,” Marie warns, but my nosy brother shakes his head as he takes Charlotte back from Carlos’ arms.

“Fine,” I huff, looking at the two men with a sickly sweet smile, “your lovely wife was telling me how she couldn’t keep her hands off you while she was pregnant.”

He smirks cockily, “That may or may not be true.”

“Well, I was agreeing with her,” I state, face remaining stoic as I deadpan the information to my brother. “I literally could go all day and night when I’m around him. I need access like 20 hours a day.”

Marie laughs wildly as the two men stare at us, jaws slack and ears turning red. Carlos covers Charlotte’s ears with his hands while Steven shakes his head in shock at what I just said. At one point, Steven looks at Carlos and whispers a heated dude that’s my sister. He just shrugs in response before the two turn their attention toward their significant others. 

“There’s little kids around!” Carlos gasps despite the glint in his eyes, and he points at my abdomen. “He doesn’t need to know about sex already.”

“Well, she will learn where she came from at some point,” I shoot back, smiling as our eyes meet in another contest about the baby.

My brother groans at our shameless flirting, and Marie smacks his arm playfully. He smiles down at her, lost in their own little world as Carlos and I make eyes at each other. Marie’s voice breaks our moment as she turns to me.

“Speaking of the baby,” her voice trails off, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You don’t have to say yes, but your mums made something for you as a gender reveal. They know you wanted it to be a surprise, but they thought you’d maybe want to find out and finally put an end to your bickering over it.”

“They haven’t already told you?” Carlos laughs. “I thought they would’ve spoiled it by now.”

Marie shakes her head, leaning into my brother as he hands Charlotte to her, “They struggled to keep it to themselves, but they listened to you. I have no idea what you’re having. I think it’s a girl, but that’s just my gut feeling.”

“I’m with Carlos,” Steven grins. “Us guys have to stick together.”

“Weren’t you just bitching at him for sleeping with your sister?” Marie glares at him.

Carlos and I both laugh as my brother tries to defend himself, “I’ve still got his back!”

“So, are you ready to find out who’s right?” I grin at Carlos.

My brother and sister-in-law watch us closely, elbowing each other at the way Carlos’ hands rest on my hips as I stand. We miss it, but Steven flashes Marie his wedding band with raised eyebrows. She grins as she nods her head wildly behind us, and my brother smiles before turning back to watch us.

Carlos raises his eyebrows, “I’m always right.”

“You’ll regret that one,” Steven mutters, and we all break into laughter as Marie smacks his arm playfully.

After talking to our mums, they announce to the room about the cake they prepared for this. At the head of the table, I stare at the cake in front of us. It’s Carlos’ favorite sponge cake that my mum always gets when we visit them. Thin white icing covers the sides of the cake, and petite pink and blue stars dot the pristine icing. He picks up the knife, placing it in my hand before wrapping his larger hand around mine. He raises his eyebrows as if to ask if I’m ready, and with a gentle nod, we press into the cake.

Pink. 

The inside of the cake is pale pink, and before I can even process anything, Carlos is wrapping his arms around my waist and laughing wildly. He picks me up so my feet dangle off the ground for a moment, grinning and leaving kisses on my cheeks as I laugh with him. The room cheers, and hugs are shared between our family and friends. I can hear some gloating about how they were right, and my heart melts as our mums hug each other giddily, laughing with our fathers and one other. 

“You were right,” he grins, voice in my ear as he places me back down. “I can’t believe we’re having a girl.”

His hands suddenly come to my face, wiping away tears I can’t stop from coming. He chuckles quietly, pads of his fingers gently gliding across my cheeks. I smile widely despite the gasp for air that comes from me. I notice the shine in his eyes of unshed tears, and it feels like my heart is going to burst from my chest.

“I’m sorry I can’t stop crying,” I laugh through hysterical hiccups. “I’m just so happy.”

He hugs me again, arms pulling me into him. My face presses against his chest, and his gentle laughter vibrates against my cheek. Tears stain his t-shirt, and I catch Marie snapping pictures of the ordeal. Reluctantly, he lets me go so he can finish cutting the cake for our guests, but his body never strays too far from mine. We begin opening the presents slowly, only after we both scolded everyone for buying us gifts, and the pile next to us starts to grow with baby supplies. Marie never stops snapping pictures on her phone. I find myself bursting into tears at a few gifts, exclaiming how cute they are to a room chuckling at my emotional reactions. Lando puts a box in front of us, grinning as Carlos eyes him suspiciously.

“Before you say anything,” the young driver starts with an ornery smile. “This is to remind her of her British roots. Her mum’s British after all. What kind of uncle would I be if I let her forget that?”

Carlos laughs when I pull a British Jack onesie out of the box, followed by a McLaren papaya orange blanket. We each laugh at the gifts, and Carlos pulls Lando in for a hug that he then extends to me.

“No Ferrari?” I laugh with the driver.

“I think orange will look much better on her than red, especially when she’s cheering for her uncle,” Lando nods, dodging a playful punch from Carlos.

Fittingly, Silvia’s gift materializes not long after Lando’s, and Carlos smiles proudly at the red onesie with the prancing horse on the front. Once we’ve gone through the gifts, Carlos’ mother volunteers their car to carry the load, and his father promises he’ll take everything back to Madrid for us. I thank them through teary sniffles, and Carlos chuckles as his parents hug me tightly. People from the grid congratulate Carlos again as they leave, and some of the drivers make passing jokes as Carlos claps them on the back. Once the whirlwind day is over, and we’ve returned to his motorhome, Carlos starts a warm shower for me before following me into the walk-in. I laugh as he does, catching the giant grin on his face as he shuts the sliding glass door. He is nothing but caring, though--fingers working shampoo and conditioner through my hair before sinking into the knots in my shoulders and back. 

“We’re lucky, yeah?” I say, eyes meeting his as he rinses conditioner out of my hair.

He nods his head gently, slight smile gracing his lips, “We’re so lucky, and we’re loved. She’ll be loved by so many.”

His words settle deep in my chest, and my heart feels like it might burst through my skin as warmth envelopes me. He looks at me with a slight quirk in his eyebrows at my silence, and I take a deep breath before chuckling weakly.

“Please don’t make me cry again,” I say with a laugh. “I’ve been crying all day and don’t know how much I have left in me.”

He laughs as he kisses my forehead, fingers rubbing up and down my back, “I’m sorry, corazón. I’m just feeling a little sentimental. I just feel so lucky right now.”

My lips meet his gently, a chaste kiss that turns passionate as all of the emotions of the day pour out between us, spilling onto the floor and into the air like the hot water and vapor from the showerhead. We both laugh as we fumble toward the bed, lips parting in joint laughter as my stomach proves tricky to maneuver around. I nearly choke on laughter as Carlos stands at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips as he looks down at me incredulously, scanning the situation and looking for any solution. His skin is still tinged red in spots from the hot shower, and his hair drips down his neck and rolls in between his shoulders. He watches me with furrowed brows as I reach for the u-shaped pillow, adjusting around it to try to answer his dilemma. He laughs at me loudly, and I turn to him with a grin.

“What are you waiting for?”

It’s full of laughter and fumbling as he maneuvers my body, reaching around the large pillow or my bump. By the time we finish, breathless from pleasure and laughter, one of his arms stays settled loosely at my hip and the other twirls pieces of my hair. 

“Aren’t you happy I brought the pillow now?” I grin, turning my face to glance at him over my shoulder.

He chuckles as he leaves a chaste kiss against my bare shoulder, “I won’t talk bad about it again, corazón.”

I thought I was big in Canada, waddling through the paddock and hands bracing against my lower back, but Silverstone is an entirely different story. Once I’ve scanned my pass, nearly getting stuck trying to maneuver my way through the turnstile, Carlos forces me to stand and wait with his physio while he jogs off to grab a golf cart from hospitality. Charlotte approaches me with a broad smile, Charles following behind making a cheeky comment about the size of my stomach since he last saw me. She hugs me as best she can, mainly her arms resting on my shoulders.

“How are you feeling about your last race before she’s here?”

Charles looks from his girlfriend to me with a bewildered look, “You’re not coming to the rest of the races?”

“She can’t travel anymore, silly,” Charlotte elbows her clueless boyfriend. “So you’ll have to talk sweet to Carlos in the garage now since she won’t be here.”

“You’re sure you can’t come to any more races for a while?” the Ferrari driver laughs.

I nod my head, hands resting on my stomach, “Going to be busy for a bit, Charles. We’ve been staying with my parents down in Oxford to spend some time together before they go to Madrid with me. Bed rest after this weekend until she’s here. I’m not allowed to travel anymore.”

Carlos whizzes to a stop in front of us, golf cart lurching forward as he presses on the brakes, “The rest of you can pile in the back if you want a ride. The front is reserved for precious cargo.”

I roll my eyes at his comment, and Charles and Carlos’ physio scoff at his comment. The two make comments about how whipped he is, but they climb into the back of the cart nevertheless. Charles pulls Charlotte with him as Carlos helps me into the seat next to me, grasping my hand tightly as I settle into the seat. He peels off down the asphalt once we’re all settled, taking us toward the Ferrari hospitality. My parents are waiting there for us, grinning widely as they watch Carlos help from my seat. My dad makes the comment that his eyes are wide like a kid in a candy store every time he looks at me, and my mom just grins in response, nodding wildly as we come into the suite and greet them. My dad congratulates Carlos on his first pole position for what feels like the thousandth time, and our chatter ping pongs between the looming race and the baby. Eventually, we make our way to the garage after Carlos left to meet with engineers and his physio. I settle in a chair the team prepared for me on his side of the garage with each of my parents standing behind my shoulder. My nerves never settle--not through the formation lap, the opening lap, the red flag, the restart. They fester deep within me, manifesting as fingers picked raw and inner cheek stuck permanently between my teeth. Carlos runs in second, just a few cars width behind Charles, and my mom’s hand grasps my shoulder tightly. The garage is cheering before I’ve even processed what has unfolded on the screen before me. Carlos passes Charles for the lead, and he’s already created a gap. My mouth falls open, tears threatening my eyes as the laps wind down and his lead continues to grow. Ferrari crew rush toward the barrier, climbing the fencing and waving Spanish flags. 

When Carlos climbs from the car, my heart leaps in my chest. He launches himself into the arms of his waiting crew--a sea of red cheering and tapping his helmet. Ferrari flags fly, and his cousin nudges him my way after their embrace. My arms curl around his shoulders, and his hands grasp at my back. It’s an awkward hug with his helmet and my bump getting in the way, but it’s a hug we’ve both been wanting for as long as we can remember. I can’t wipe the smile from my face, and my hands hold each side of his helmet as his eyes meet mine through his open visor.

“You did it!” I cheer, face mimicking his smile and wide eyes.

“It’s for us,” he grins, gloved fingers brushing my cheeks. “It was for my girls.”

“God, I love you,” I ramble, hugging him tightly one more time before sending him down the way to celebrate with other Ferrari staff.

The smiles from our faces never fade, and tears threaten my eyes when the Spanish national anthem plays. He is stood on the top step, wrapped in a Spanish flag taking in everything around him. We all cheer loudly when he raises the trophy, and Silvia nudges me with her elbow gently as she whistles. Trying to leave the paddock takes longer than usual with extra interviews and people congratulating Carlos on our way out. Most people share congratulations for his win and a second round when they take in my protruding stomach. My parents take in the sights of the paddock, basking in the glory of the Ferrari hospitality. I can’t help but overhear people telling them about how great Carlos and I are together, and I dare miss the smiles growing on my parents’ faces at that. 

The house is quiet as we enter, but our excited chatter fills the empty halls. My mom cuts a small slice of the cake she always buys for Carlos’ visit, and we all celebrate with a piece of dessert before my parents head to bed. I flop onto the couch, propping my feet up on the adjacent cushion. Carlos settles on the other side of me, my shoulder leaning into frame and slinging his arm around me. 

“I feel bad that this is how we’re celebrating your first win,” I take a bite of cake from my fork. “You should be out partying with the team, hot girlfriend hanging off your arm, alcohol flowing. Not sitting in your future-in-laws’ house with a slice of cake.”

“Futue-in-laws?” he grins, wagging his eyebrows.

I elbow him gently, “You know what I mean.”

“I wouldn’t choose another way to celebrate, corazón. You’re here. That’s all I need,” he can’t even fight the smile at his cheesy words, but my heart bursts in my chest at his admission. “I’ve got a hot girlfriend on my arm. Cake instead of alcohol. The team can celebrate without me for tonight. I’d rather be here.”

“How do you always know what to say?” I look back at him with a smile.

He shakes his head gently, leaning in to kiss my lips and hand resting on my jaw. He tastes like sweet vanilla and almond--remnants of the frosting still coating his tongue. He sighs gently as I deepen the kiss, and my fingers crawl across his denim-clad thigh. He breaks away first, a gentle scolding ready on the tip of his tongue.

“We can’t,” he sighs regretfully, stopping my wandering hand with his larger one. “You know I’d love nothing more, but we can’t, corazón.”

“Carlos,” I whine, but he just gives me a look that affirms that he’s right. I huff as I lean back into him, head resting against his side as his hand rubs my arm, “Fine. You’re right. I just want you as much as possible before the next few races since I can’t be there.”

“I know, but we can’t. I think your dad secretly wants to kill me still for getting you pregnant. We don’t need to risk being caught in his house, too,” he grins.

I laugh wildly, covering my hand with my mouth as I snort. Carlos laughs along with me, and we soon settle into a comfortable silence in the dim living room. My hand traces his left hand, following veins and tendons across his tanned skin, and his right drags gently up and down my bicep and shoulder. After a while, I’m the first to break the silence around us.

“I’m going to watch every session in Austria and France on the television. I won’t miss a beat.”

He hums in agreement, leaving a kiss against my hair, “I’m going to call every night. A part of me wishes she was here already, but another part of me wants this to last forever.”

I laugh gently, “I can’t wait to not be pregnant anymore. I can finally paint my own toes or put my shoes on myself.”

Carlos chuckles, “That’s true, but I’ll miss seeing you like this. You’re always beautiful, but you’re glowing, amor.”

I kiss the back of his hand gently, “Who do you think she’ll look like?”

He’s silent for a moment, “I hope she looks like you, but maybe with my tan. She’ll be a heartbreaker.”

I laugh at his comment, imagining a little girl with my eyes and his hair, “Hopefully she knows how to be on time. Not too early, not too late.”

Carlos sighs quietly, but I catch it nonetheless, “It’s not too late for me to tell them I’m going to stay home.”

“Carlos, honey,” I start, craning my neck to look into his eyes, “I promise you that you won’t miss anything. Go to Austria, and then we’ll regroup for France. You’re not missing anything.”

My words sink in, and he nods gently as he pulls me up from the couch, “Let’s get to bed. I’m exhausted after today.”

“Can we at least make out a little more before bed? I promise I’ll be good.”

He laughs wildly as he shakes his head, practically forcing me up the stairs, “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Don’t you want to win a second time today?”

Madrid is hot, and the weather annoys me more as the weeks stretch on. By the time I’m 38 weeks, I can’t even see my toes when I stand, and I’m ready to not be pregnant more than ever before. Each day feels like a ticking time bomb--my mood swings or her arrival. So far, my angry outbursts or tearful breakdowns are the only thing happening. My parents stay with Carlos’ parents as they all await the baby’s arrival, and Steven and Marie travel down to a condo with the girls, playing tourist with their dad while their mom acts as my glorified babysitter.

“I still feel so guilty about going,” Carlos mumbles as he stacks his bags by the door. 

“I told you to go--it’s your job,” I remind him, feet propped up on the coffee table and hands resting on my bare stomach. “I’ve still got a few days. It’s enough time for you to compete this weekend in France.”

“This can’t be our life right now,” he starts to walk toward me in the Spanish apartment. “This is our baby we’re talking about.”

“And she’s not ready yet,” I remind him, fingers resting on his hand he sets his on my stomach. “She knows you’ve got something important to do, so she’s going to wait until you’re back.”

“You know I’d drop everything for both of you, no?” his voice is gentle and brown eyes soft as he looks at my face.

I nod slowly, smaller hand squeezing his over top of my skin as tears well in my eyes, “I’ve never doubted it, Carlos.”

He leans in to kiss my lips gently, “You promise you’ll call if anything happens. I don’t care if I’m out on the track. Someone will have my phone at all times.”

“Ana or Marie will call before I even know anything is happening,” I chuckle quietly, relishing in his hands in mine. “They aren’t going to let you miss anything.”

His phone buzzes, indicating its time for him to leave for the airport for his short flight to France, “When I come back, you’ll still be pregnant, yeah?”

I laugh, “I promise. You’ll at least get a couple more looks at me like this.”

He grins wildly, “Good.”

Once he’s out of the apartment, I let out a shaky sigh as another contraction grips me. They’re not real--just false labor with the looming arrival. I collapse back to the couch, fingers reaching for my phone as I call Marie. I make her promise not to kill me before I tell her what’s going on, and she starts to scold me over the phone as she grabs a few things before catching a cab to my apartment. Even when she appears at my door, still spewing about how I should have told Carlos before he left, I begrudgingly let her in. I go back to the kitchen, reaching to put clean glasses back in the cabinets. 

“I’m positive it’s just Braxton-Hicks contractions,” I start as Marie rushes in the apartment. “Carlos would kill me if I didn’t tell someone, though.”

“As he should!” she screeches, rushing over to me in the kitchen. “Quit putting things away and sit down! There’s a reason I’m here.”

“But you should be back with your own kids,” I whine as she pulls the glass from my hands. 

“Your brother can handle those two for a couple hours,” she snaps back, shooing me toward the couch before finishing my work in the kitchen. “He’s got a huge hotel room that Carlos’ parents helped set up for him.”

I huff as I sit back on the couch, feeling another cramp rack my body. I take a sharp breath through my nose, sighing once it ebbs back into the dull pain in my back. Marie walks toward me, hands on her hips as she stands in front of me.

“Was that another one?”

I nod my head gently, “They’ve been coming and going since before Carlos left, but they’re more frequent now.”

She glares at me, “Have you told him?”

“I don’t want him to worry, Marie,” I huff. “I’m fine. My water hasn’t broken. Everything is fine besides whatever these are. It can wait until the weekend is over.”

She plops on to the couch next to me, “We’re going to start timing them, then. Since you want to be stubborn, I’ll play along.”

“As long as you promise not to call Carlos,” I glare at her.

“I’ll call him on the way to the hospital,” she quips back. “Less than five minutes apart, and he’s getting a phone call while I toss your ass in the car.”

Marie leaves only to say goodnight to her kids before coming back to sleep in the guest bedroom. I barely sleep at all, tossing and turning in the empty bed from Carlos’ absence and the aches and pains of my body. In the morning, I waddle toward the bathroom, hands bracing against my back and dark circles under my eyes. The sight before me alarms me--my water broke. Marie is in the kitchen, washing dishes from the small breakfast she made both of us. She glances at me as I waddle in, hands still against my back and a look of terror on my face. 

“What’s wrong?”

I sit on one of the barstools, groaning slightly at the pull in my back, “Slept horribly, but it's the same aches and pains.”

She looks at me as she dries one of the dishes, eyebrows furrowed as she tries to figure out what I haven’t revealed to her. I pick my nails nervously, trying to fight the tears pooling in my eyes and attempting to ignore the sharp pull in my abdomen. 

She glares at me from across the table, “What aren’t you telling me?”

Tears pool in my eyes as my voice shakes, “I think my water broke.” 

“What?” her eyebrows are raised and eyes wide. 

“Marie, I-”

She watches as my face contorts as another contraction grips me, the pain continuing for nearly a minute and a half as she times it on her phone. I lean back into the chair when it passes, brushing hair away from my face. Her gaze is gentle when she looks at my appearance, clearly feeling worse than I let on.

“I have to call Carlos,” she says, knowing I’m already going to fight her on it so he doesn’t miss the race. “Babe, you need to call your doctor, and keep timing those contractions. I’m going to call Carlos. I know you feel guilty, but he would kill both of us if I don’t call.” 

“Let me see what the doctor says first,” I whisper, tears still threatening to spill over my lashes. “I don’t want to call him yet if they’re going to have me sit here and wait for things to progress.”

In the middle of the call with the doctor, another contraction grips me. Marie picks at her fingernails as she watches me, and the receptionist on the other end asks me details about the timing of everything. After some back and forth with Marie’s input, they ask me to come in as a precaution. I complain about it to Marie, and once she’s dropped my bag by the door, she calls Steven with a desperate plea to come kick my ass since I won’t listen. 

“I’ll call Carlos,” my brother threatens over the phone. “I don’t care if he's got a practice session later, and neither will he. You’re being selfish right now.”

“Steven,” my voice suddenly cracks as emotions overwhelm me. “I don’t want to go yet. I can’t do this without him.”

Marie’s eyes are wide at my sudden switch in demeanor, and she suddenly feels guilty as I cry out, “You’re not going to do this without him. This takes time, babe, but you need to be at the hospital in case anything happens. You can’t sit here waiting for Carlos.”

“I told him I’d still be here when he got back,” the panic and fear consume me as I cry. “I promised him he wouldn’t miss anything.”

“He’s not,” Steven’s voice comes over the speaker. “I’d kill him if he did. You could still have days, but I know we’d all feel better if you at least went to the hospital. Come on, they’re waiting for you there.”

The gown is itchy on my skin, and Marie flips the small television monitor to FP1 in France. She makes the call to everyone but Carlos just to let them know I’m in the hospital, and what the doctors had said. Her eyes were wide when they said I was near the end of early labor, and she scolded me for trying to hide the severity of my contractions. When the doctors told me I had about 24 hours, my jaw nearly dropped as tears welled in my eyes. I barely watch the session, instead focusing on breathing through contractions spaced out just enough to keep from raising any alarms and feeling guilty for pulling Carlos away from the race. Marie hands me my phone after Carlos enters the garage, leaving FP1 with a few minutes to spare. It rings for a few moments before Carlos’ trainer Rupert answers. He hears the tears in my voice and immediately starts searching for the Spanish driver.

“Are you okay?” his voice sounds frantic as he is still coming down from driving the car. 

“I’m okay, but promise me you won’t freak out,” my voice shakes as I start.

He manages to hold it in, but he’s freaking out. His heart drops into the pit of his stomach, and his mouth goes dry as he waits for me to speak. The adrenaline from the practice session wears off in an instant, and he’s instead left with shaking fingers and a nervous cold sweat.

“Talk to me, corazón,” his voice is calm, but he looks anything but to the people around him.

“So, before you left, I was having some pain. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t think it was real contractions. They were getting worse, and Marie stayed with me last night. Steven and Marie made me come to the hospital this morning, but only she is allowed to stay with me right now,” my voice is panicked as I speak to him. “Carlos, she’s coming.”

“What?” he struggles to remain calm, and it's evident as I hear shuffling and movement assuming he’s rushing through the garage. “Can I make it? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

Tears starts to pour down my face as I hear his voice, “I’m scared, Carlos. I can’t do this without you.”

“You’re not going to,” he answers without hesitation. “I’m leaving now. I don’t care about the race, corazón, not right now. Just breathe. Talk to me.”

Carlos rushes through the garage and toward his driver’s room. Rupert is not far behind him, helping him to throw stuff into bags and organize the jet back to Madrid. With the phone on speaker as he hurriedly changes out of his fireproofs, Carlos listens as his heart nearly beats out of his chest.

“They think I have about 24 hours before it’s time,” I start, sniffling as Marie steps out into the hallway to give me some privacy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t want you to miss this race and affect your season, but I also can’t do this without you next to me. I’m scared, Carlos. What if I’m not a good mum?”

He shushes me quietly, voice gentle despite his rushing on the other end, “You’ll be a great mum, mi amor. You already are before she’s even here. You’re strong, okay?”

I wipe my eyes, sniffling as I nod my head, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says gently, already grabbing his things and rushing back into the garage. “I’ll be there soon, corazón. I need to tell the team, and then I’m catching the jet. I should be there in five hours at the most.”

The hours stretch with poking and prodding from nurses every time they make their rounds, updating the chart according to contractions and if anything has changed. Marie dials my parents for me, and my mom puts the phone on speaker so that the Sainzs could hear me as well. Our parents were staying together, filling their days with golfing and relaxing in Madrid, but their carefree time quickly ends when I reveal that the baby would be coming soon. They meet up with Steven and my nieces, waiting patiently for any word from me about the baby or Carlos’ arrival. I drift into a fragile sleep here and there, eyes closing just enough to doze before something--usually a contraction--pulls me back into the exhausted state. Marie is my best friend through it all, breathing with me through sharp contractions, managing communications from our family and friends, and calming my anger whenever I’m poked yet again by nurses. She even shows me the statement from Ferrari about Carlos having to miss the race and the rest of the sessions. While they cite personal reasons, its clear to everyone why he is missing the races, and I nearly cry as Marie reads messages and comments of support and well wishes from fans and the F1 community. 

When Carlos appears in the doorway, his nervous demeanor melts away as he sees me sleeping lightly on the hospital bed, gown stretched tight across my stomach and mouth tipped open with soft snores. Marie dozes in the chair next to my bed, her head propped up on a sweatshirt and phone resting in her hand. The sky is nearly dark now, and he steps into the dim room quietly, snapping a picture of me and my sister-in-law before gently waking Marie. She grins when she sees him, hugging him before wishing him luck. She looks at me on the bed one more time, voice a barely audible whisper directed at Carlos as she leaves.

“She’ll be so happy to see you when she wakes up,” her smile is barely visible in the dim hospital room. “You’re her everything.”

He nods, whispering back with a soft smile, “They’re mine, too.”

He sits where Marie was sitting, just watching me sleep lightly with a gentle smile on his face. He nods to the nurse when she enters, and he holds back laughter as I start to complain about the interruption as she checks my IV. With eyes still closed, I mumble some half-hearted comment about a pregnant lady wanting sleep, but when I hear the familiar choked laughter, my eyes fly open. Carlos is sitting next to me, dark bags under his eyes and the remnants of worry lines on his forehead, but an easy smile rests on his lips. I greet him excitedly, trying my best to sit up as the nurse pokes and prods at me. He stands as he holds my hand, kissing my forehead gently before stepping out of the nurses way. She shares some information with us, indicating it won’t be long before my contractions get worse and it’ll be time. Carlos fills me in on events of the paddock, recounting his dramatic exit from practice, and he breathes with me or lets me squeeze his hand with a death grip as more intense contractions take root. In the early morning hours, a doctor comes in with an easy smile.

“Are you ready, corazón?” Carlos whispers quietly, still holding my hand and eyes boring into mine.

Where panic previously gripped me, sending a cold sweat across my body and trembling to my limbs, a sense of calm and preparedness take root with Carlos by my side. I nod my head gently, leaning into him when he kisses my forehead. He shoots a text to our families before turning to me with an impenetrable smile.

“I’m here the whole way,” he reassures me as he holds my hand. “Let’s bring our surprise home."

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