#i'll write fluff next i promise
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peachylynnie · 4 months ago
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you make him lose his cool
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word count: 900-1k per lead synopsis: in which you provoke them, and they love it. (inspired by kiss of life's igloo) contains: fem!reader x lads men (separate, non!mc), established relationship, downbad men, NSFW CONTENT MDNI (i'm talking grinding, oral sex implications, etc), song lyrics, and cursing. a/n: UPDATED WITH CALEB AS OF 2/1/25 i feel hot whenever i listen to this song. i hope you do too while reading. enjoy! do not plagiarize or translate. lads men do NOT endorse plagiarism. reblogs & comments appreciated. lads masterlist | tagged: @vvintqz (ik this is technically the reader teasing xavier but u said to tag u when i write xavier so i hope u enjoy)
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caleb
What you heard? (What you heard?) But it's never what you think, trust
it's impossible to surprise caleb.
he always knows what you're up to.
whether you're just waking up from a heavenly two-hour nap or going out to get your hands on the latest edition of your favorite blind box series, he's always there.
last time you tried to cook yourself a meal (ever since you started dating, he hasn't let you lift a finger), he came home early and snatched the spatula away from you, insisting that you sit down and look pretty for him while he makes his signature braised wings.
you're not sure how he does it. maybe he has a secret camera or a tracker installed (ha). though, you don't have any complaints. you think it's fucking hot how he's never away from you.
even so, you've been wanting to surprise him for a while now. blame it on your desire to fluster him as much as he flusters you. you're going to surprise him AT LEAST once in your lifetime.
which explains why you're in an apron right now, with absolutely nothing underneath.
to be honest, you were hoping to surprise him with homemade apple pie since he's always cooking for you. but again, you want to fluster him. thus the apron, a long piece of denim fabric wrapped tightly around your waist and hung dangerously low at your chest. you can't deny how delectable you appeared when you looked in the mirror, admiring your exposed arms, legs, back, and neck—anything that would drive the esteemed colonel insane. you felt jittery just thinking about the look he would have on his face when he walked in through the door of your shared home.
however, your joy is short-lived when your phone rings while you slice up some apples in the kitchen.
"what's with the apron, pipsqueak?"
you put the knife down with a sigh. "do you have a camera installed in here or what?"
caleb chuckles into the phone. "wouldn't you like to know?"
"i would like to know so i can turn the damn thing off and actually surprise you for once, dipshit," you retort playfully as you adjust your phone between your ear and shoulder, picking up the knife to continue chopping. you suppose you should still make the pie since you already got the ingredients out.
"aw," he mocks, his voice dripping with arousal. "did my little pipsqueak dress up just for me?"
"yes," you snap, rolling your eyes. "but this little pipsqueak is about to change since you ruined her surprise."
your threat does little to faze caleb, as evidenced by his endearing laughter.
"don't be upset, pips," he teases into the phone. before you can scoff at his audacity to tell you not to be upset, your ears catch the hurried footsteps in the background of the call. it doesn't take long for you to hope your boyfriend is on his way home—on his way to you. sure enough, his next words cause heat to pool between your bare legs.
"keep the apron on. i'll be home soon."
after he hangs up, you put your phone down with a giggle, eager for what's to unfold once he arrives. however, you still can't help but wonder if he actually has a camera installed because how the fuck does he always know what you're up to? you frown as you turn your head left and right. you don't see any red flashing lights in places that could provide him an optimal view. nope. nothing in the corners of the ceilings and nothing in the walls either. before you can convince yourself your boyfriend is somehow omniscient, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.
his dog tag. seems like he forgot to put it on after putting on his uniform. you pocket it, hoping to give it to him when he gets home.
but your mind is truly one of a kind. as caleb likes to put it, resourceful during the most critical moments.
because when he's balls deep inside of you, coaxing your second orgasm out of you, you get the bright idea to fish your shaky fingers into the pocket of your bunched-up apron and put. it. on.
caleb's eyes widen upon seeing his dog tag on you. there it was, the important item he forgot this morning, resting between the delicious valley of your breasts, bouncing up and down while jingling an enticing melody.
"fuck—pipsqueak, you—" he thrusts harshly, pistoning into your sopping heat. you throw your head back at the sensation, allowing him an even better view of his chain, mingling with the beads of sweat on your collarbone. shit, he's so turned on right now. not only were your swollen, sweet lips adorning his name, but so was your pretty little neck. it filled the young colonel with pride. and enough vigor to bring you to your third release, as evidenced by the endless slamming of his hips and the clenching of your thighs.
"good girl," he helps you through your high before letting go of your waist, hoping to give you a break. "i'll go get a towel. stay here."
but when your pilot of a lover goes to leave, you wrap your legs around him and pull him to you, causing him to collide with you. caleb hisses at the contact, sensitive more than ever.
"don't push it, pipsqueak," he warns as he plants both of his arms on the kitchen counter, caging you in. "you need to rest."
"i don't think so, colonel," you prop yourself on your elbows, meeting his eyes boldly. "i don't think so at all."
caleb swears he feels his mechanical arm short-circuit because what you do next is just fucking tantalizing.
you pinch his dog tag and bring it to your mouth.
his breathing quickens substantially when your teeth take the shiny piece of metal as their prisoner. it's not long before his dog tag is trapped between your seductive canines and your thighs are tightened around his waist.
with a shameless smile, you jut your chin towards the man, signaling to him to make his move.
caleb growls, seizing the chain with both hands and bringing you to his face.
"i warned you, pips."
extra (in honor of his official installment)
as you munch on some apple pie in caleb's embrace on the couch, you can't help but ask.
"how did you know about the apron but not the dog tag?"
your boyfriend sniffs before answering, a little bit of pie still in his mouth.
"i couldn't check the cameras on the way home."
"oh that makes sense."
"…"
"wait, what?!"
sylus
Glass room, perfume, Kodak on that lilac (alright) Slipping on my short dress, know he like that (like that)
there's nothing like getting ready in sylus' bathroom. not because of the sheer size of it (it takes at least a day to explore his residence), but because of how good you look in the mirror right now. you can't help but smile as you step back to get a full look at yourself.
sylus went all out for tonight's auction.
he gifted you a tight-fitting ebony dress, its gorgeous silk straps accentuating your shoulders perfectly. he also gifted you a pair of evening gloves, its velvet fabric wrapping around your arms flawlessly. of course, the dress came with priceless jewels and heels. as you twirl in front of the mirror, the scarlet gems on your ears glimmer, and the cherry kitten heels on your feet click. oh, you look so good, you can kill.
but what seals the deal is the neck accessory he got you.
an intricate, black choker made out of lace. fucking lace. a scoff leaves your mouth when you notice the ruby medallion hanging at the center. his taste is as clear as day.
as you reach behind your neck to clip the choker, the man of the hour walks in. you meet his eyes through the mirror, your hands still at the back of your neck. "sylus."
"miss," he acknowledges in return, an unmistakable smirk appearing on his lips. his eyes trail down your figure. "you look stunning."
"thanks," you giggle as you hook the choker clasp. "you don't look bad yourself."
and you're absolutely right. although he has his usual dress shirt on, his outerwear is completely new. a gorgeous red blazer, adorned with inky brush strokes, sits proudly on his shoulders. moreover, his accessories are new (he's never worn any before). cuffed around his right hand is a sleek platinum watch, spotlighting his forearm deliciously. hanging from his left ear are silver chains, shining unashamedly. you can't help but bite your lips as you admire your lover in the mirror.
yeah, sylus went all out tonight.
catching the hazy look in your glittered eyes, he tilts his head before grinning, "like what you see, sweetie?"
you roll your eyes playfully before returning to the sink. "yes, actually. didn't know you were capable of wearing something other than black."
sylus chuckles as he leans against the wall, arms crossed. "i've worn colors other than black before."
"if you're talking about the two outfits that have the belt around the sleeve," you list nonchalantly as you pick up your lip gloss. "they don't count. they have black on them."
"i'm talking about the red cardigan, sweetie," he counters smoothly, eyeing the lip gloss in your hand.
"ah." you run the wand over your parted lips, enjoying the feeling of gloss on them. "touche," you say, bending over the sink to see if you missed a spot. you do, however, miss the way sylus' fingers tighten around his arms when your dress hikes up. smacking your lips together, you lift the wand to reapply. "but you barely even wear that. so that doesn't count either."
sylus hums, barely paying attention to what you just said. his eyes are transfixed on the wand. he's mesmerized by how it travels across your lips, slathering them with sticky, shimmery syrup, leaving him thirsty for a taste. not to mention the sounds leaving your lips whenever you press them together. sweet, squelching sounds that have him pressing against you in mere seconds, his hands gripping the edge of the sink.
at first, you were taken aback by his sudden proximity. but after feeling something prod at your back, you smile amusingly before placing the wand down. "i'm assuming," you swiftly turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, his eyes widening as you pull him closer. "there's been a change of plans." you slowly lick your lips, collecting some excess gloss. as it drips from the tip of your tongue, you ask with a tilt of your head, "how late are we going to be?"
that's it.
sylus crashes into you, his tongue desperately trying to lap up the excess gloss. his hands haphazardly roam all over your body before lifting you onto the sink, pinning you down as his lips smear your lip gloss everywhere. you moan, trying to match his fervor. the sinful mixing of breaths, saliva, and gloss floods your mind, causing you to wrap your legs around him and bring him closer to you. he welcomes the action, gasping and grinding into you.
by the time he pulls away for air, both of you are left panting like dogs, mouths and chins smothered in sheen.
your eyes never leave sylus' as you wipe your chin, a string of gloss and saliva hanging prettily from your gloved palm. with a groan, he dives into your neck and sinks his teeth into your collarbone. you throw your head back at the pain, whimpering when he soothes the spot with his tongue.
but when sylus traces a finger up your back, you freeze immediately.
why?
oh, because he's unzipping your dress.
"sorry, sweetie," he chuckles into your perfumed skin, savoring your surprised reaction when he drags the zipper all the way down. "we won't be late."
you look at him in confusion, barely processing the silk straps falling off your shoulders.
he leans in and whispers into your ear.
"we won't be going at all."
xavier
Heart attack, IV when I walk the street Vitamins that D, I'm good, I'm healthy
your starlight of a boyfriend collapses onto the bed, his legs hanging off the edge and his pants dangling pathetically from his ankles.
you giggle at the sight, wiping your lips clean of his release. as you rub a drop between your index finger and thumb, you notice the texture's a bit thick, almost like jelly.
"xavier," you call lovingly, rising from your knees and crawling on top of him. he barely responds; his eyes are screwed shut with beads of sweat trailing down his face, neck, chest, legs, everywhere. shit, what did you do to him? he can't get his chest to stop heaving, his mouth to stop watering, and his ears to stop ringing. he can't do anything. not with the way you looked so pretty on top of him, especially after making him release so intensely in your mouth.
"xavier," you repeat as you cradle his face, making his dazed eyes meet yours. "when was the last time you drank water?"
"water?" he pants. "i'm not sure. why do you ask?"
"well," you show him your fingers. he gulps, flushing a deeper shade of red. "this tells me you haven't been drinking enough water."
you get up to retrieve some water from the kitchen. xavier whines at the loss of contact. although he tries to stop you from leaving, you easily slip out of his weak embrace (he literally got his life sucked out of him; cut him some slack). after you reassure him with a kiss on his forehead, you open the door. "i'll be back soon."
he responds with a whimper before closing his eyes. before he knows it, he falls asleep.
not even five minutes have passed when you return to the room, a glass of water in your hand and a packet of vitamins in the other.
"xavier?" after placing the items down on the nightstand, you sit on the bed to admire the view. there he is, sleeping soundly with his shirt unbuttoned and pants unbuckled, his chest slowly rising up and down and his cute nose scrunching every so often. you almost feel bad when you wake him up. almost. as much as you like watching your boyfriend sleep, he needs his water and vitamins, considering how much energy he uses to fight wanderers.
"wake up, xavier," you coo. "you need your vitamins."
he stirs, peeking one eye open to look at you. cute, you think. "i'm too tired, angel." he whines before closing his eye again. "i'll have some later."
"come on," you chuckle. "at least drink some water. you're dehydrated."
hoping to keep him awake, you litter his face with kisses, repeatedly pecking his adorable features. his droopy eyelids, his button nose, his fluffy cheeks, his moist forehead, his small chin—not a single spot is missed.
his little laughs repay your efforts. before you can continue your bombardment of kisses, his arms wrap around your shoulders, successfully pinning you down to him. you're surprised by how quickly he replenished his strength.
"you're trapped," he points out cheekily. "now we can both sleep."
"xavier," it's your turn to whine. "you need to drink some water. besides," you try to get up but fail miserably due to his tight embrace. "you need to scoot up, and i need to lay down properly if we both want to sleep." still no signs of letting you go.
you sigh before poking at your boyfriend's waist, causing him to yelp.
he immediately lets go of you, rubbing the spot you just touched. taking the chance to escape, you stand up and reach for the glass and vitamins.
"meanie," he pouts. "i thought we agreed to not tickle each other for today."
"that's because you try to tickle me all the time," you retort playfully, opening the packet of vitamins. "besides, i only tickle you as a last resort. unlike you, i'm nice." you pop the vitamin in your mouth and bring the glass to your lips.
"as if." he yanks up his pants and crosses his arms. "last time i checked, being nice means letting your boyfriend sleep peacefully," he quips as he turns away from you, hoping his grumpy little act will coax more kisses from you.
instead, a hand comes into his view and grasps the sheets. furrowing his brows, he shifts back to ask what's wrong but is startled to find your face hovering above his. 
"angel, what—"
you press your lips into his, your free hand gripping his chin. on instinct, xavier opens his mouth, expecting your tongue to greet his. however, his eyes widen when he feels something pour in. oh. he greedily swallows the water and vitamin, his fingers weaving into your hair.
you pull away abruptly, a drop of water trickling down the corner of your lips. before he can say anything, you grab the glass of water and drink from it again, your hooded eyes never leaving his. xavier groans at the sight, his chest heaving for the third time today. and it's barely afternoon. oh, you're going to be the death of him.
he's sure of it when you return to his lips, water flowing into his mouth so sensually as his tongue reaches out for more. this time, you rest your entire body on top of him, allowing him to grab at your hips and thrust upward, desperately rubbing against your clothed core and seeking any type of friction that could relieve him of this growing desire you satiated with your mouth less than ten minutes ago. he never wants to drink water alone ever again.
“a-angel,” he moans when you pull away again. “why?” 
“you need more water, xavier.” you tease with a lick of your lips. “gotta make sure my boyfriend is hydrated, ya know?”
with that, you go to stand up and reach for the glass. however, the room spins as xavier pins you down, your positions switched and your wrists restrained above your head. your eyes widen, realizing you might've pushed your boyfriend too far. 
"angel," dark, cerulean eyes burn into you before glancing at the glass. “that's not enough water.”
rafayel
Yeah, white tippy-toe summer, I make him go dumb, duh He doubled down on that text, says that I'm the only one
(heads up, reader doesn't have to be mc but they know about rafayel's identity as the sea god and he calls you his beloved bride)
rafayel isn't sure how he got here.
you, on top of his bare chest, nibbling at his neck and dragging a finger down his clenched abdomen.
"c-cutie," he stammers. "someone might see."
he's not wrong. you're at the beach after all. but it's a private beach, one the artist rented for a date. so really, what's the harm in pinning your boyfriend down in the sand and showing him how much you appreciate him?
"you're the one who said this place was private, raf." you giggle before sinking your teeth into him, eliciting a moan. "besides, we both know why you suggested a date at the beach. don't tell me you forgot." you trail your finger along the waistband of his swim trunks. he jolts, his half-lidded eyes meeting your misty ones.
of course, he didn't forget. but considering the current, scandalous situation he's in right now, his memory is a bit hazy. as you twirl the drawstring with your index finger, rafayel bites his lip and tries to remember how exactly he got here.
last thing he remembers is you excitedly texting him about your package coming in.
a package, pft. no big deal, right?
wrong.
he almost dropped his phone when you sent him a picture of the package, more specifically, you wearing its contents.
a gorgeous two-piece swimsuit in the color of his hair. fuck, lavender has never looked so good on you. the way the tight, skimpy fabric hugged all the right places, making you seem so so malleable. the way you posed in front of the mirror, your face bridling with innocent excitement but your body positioned so so temptingly. shit, he hopes this exhibition ends soon because his slacks feel suffocating all of a sudden.
it wasn't long before he spammed you with a hurricane of texts consisting of flattering emojis and praises about how you're the only one he'll ever love (dramatic but heartwarming) and how he would love to take you on a date at the beach as soon as this stupid exhibition is over so you can swim in your new set to your heart's content (totally not because he wants to see the real thing).
yeah, now he remembers. he got himself into this situation. you even tried to stop him.
"uh," he recalls you hesitating through the call. "aren't you tired from your exhibit?"
"nope," he immediately answers, causing you to raise a brow. "not at all, cutie. i'm in tip-top shape. what better place for us to test your swimsuit than the beach?"
"us?" you repeat amusingly. "since when was testing a swimsuit a two-person thing?"
shit, he got caught.
"raf," you giggle at his silence. "if you want to see me wear this in person, you can always just ask, you know?"
"w-what?! no!" he acts as if you insulted his artwork. "i just thought it'd be a good opportunity for us to go on a date and to test the quality of your swimsuit! what if one day you go into the water and it gets untied or something? what if i'm not there to protect you from prying eyes? you can never be careful enough with swimsuits, especially shipped ones!"
"uh-huh," you drawl skeptically. "i'm sure a triple-knotted bikini will SOMEHOW get untied by the waves."
"come on, cutie," rafayel whines. "i know a perfect, private place! i'll even bring the food, the blankets, everything! please?" (he purposely emphasized "private" because no way in the seven seas is he going to let anyone look at you in a bikini)
you sigh before observing yourself in the mirror once more. the bikini DID look good, and you DID buy it for future swimming dates with rafayel. might as well, right? besides, you can't say no to him, especially when he begs so cutely like that.
"fine, raf," he remembers you giving in with an endearing sigh. "send me the address of the beach once you're done. i'll stop by your place to pack your swimming trunks."
and here you are, resting on top of him and drawing figure eights with your fingertips IN his swimming trunks.
he would laugh at the irony if it weren't for your provocative actions. you were the one who brought him his swimming trunks, and now, you were the one making him wish you didn't bring them so he could see how pretty your fingers looked right next to his—
yeah, he definitely got himself into this situation. he has no one to blame but himself for his predicament. it's his fault he's currently twitching and throbbing underneath you as you breathe into his neck and tease doodles into his thighs.
"oh fuck, cutie—" rafayel jerks his head back when you suck on his adam's apple. your mouth felt so good. you felt so good. 
after pulling back with a 'pop,' you trace the red mark with your free hand, admiring your artwork on your artist of a lover. unfortunately for him (fortunately, really), this causes him to squirm uncontrollably. the simultaneous stimulation from your right hand on his thigh and your left hand on his neck was just too much for the lemurian. he swears he's this close to bursting all over the sand like a messy, wet bubble. 
suddenly, you stop, withdrawing both of your hands from his body. 
"c-cutie?" he lifts his neck to look at you but finds himself confused as to why you're sitting up. though, his confusion is quelled when you reach behind your neck. 
oh. 
your hands come into view, each one tugging on the strings of your top.
oh fuck. 
he doesn't even see your top fall. no. he's completely frozen (and hard) when you lay back down on him, smushing your now-exposed chest into his abdomen, allowing him a view that brings roses to his cheeks. (he can feel your nipples rubbing against him).
"oh, god of the tides," you purr with a smirk as you press your ear into his chest, relishing in his rapid heartbeats. "you promised you would test this swimsuit with me." before he can deny your reminder of his mistake from the earlier call, you grab his hand and bring it to rest against your swimsuit bottoms, causing his breath to hitch. "won't you make good on your promise?" 
rafayel swallows shakily before nodding. 
"anything for my beloved bride." 
zayne
Mm, yeah, I make him lose his cool Yeah, I make him go mmmmmm ah! ah!
doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, reduced to this.
a red-faced mess, losing his cool in a rocking chair, thanks to his lover shaving his chin on his lap.
his lover, who just so happens to be wearing a nightgown, a silk, sapphire nightgown with lace ruffles and ribbons that drove the man insane.
to make matters worse (better), your bare thighs were on either side of his hips, caressing and stroking him whenever you would move to shave his chin.
don't even get him started on the fact that you're sitting right on top of his crotch. he prays to any merciful soul out there that you don't feel him growing down there-
he inhales sharply when you reach behind him for a towel, your chest mere millimeters from his face.
"you okay, zayne?" you ask with faux concern.
"yes," he clenches his jaw. it's taking him everything to not dive in and lick, suck, bite—anything to relieve him of this torment. "please hurry."
"hurry?" you pout with a tilt of your head. "but why?" you lift his chin to wipe some excess shaving cream. "do you not want me to shave you?"
"no, darling. it's just—" his hands fly to your waist for stability when you place the towel back in its place. shit, every time you lift yourself onto your knees to reach behind him, the chair moves more and more, resulting in a pattern where when he leans back, you press into him, and when you lean back, he presses into you. it's not helping that this pattern deliciously resembles a certain rhythm in bed.
"it's just?" you repeat to him, stroking his jaw to inspect for stray hairs.
he doesn't say anything. how can he? he can't just spill about how badly he wants to kiss your sweet lips, squeeze at your delectable chest, rip your enticing nightgown apart, and take everything you have to offer. no, he can't. not when you approached him so innocently with a cute smile on your face after he came home, asking if you could shave him. (he almost fell to his knees when he saw what you were wearing). not when you look so beautiful gazing at him from above, handling his skin with addictive yet gentle touches, and glowing underneath the moonlight from the open windows. shaking his head, he grips your waist with renewed resolve.
"it's nothing," he closes his eyes. "please continue." he would rather drink alcohol than misinterpret your innocent intentions.
except there was nothing innocent about your intentions at all. you admit, it's fun to tease zayne like this. the way his lips would chase after your fingers whenever you traced them, the way his eyes would falter whenever you leaned in, the way his breath would hitch whenever you moved your hips, oh it all made you feel wanted. and who could want more than a gorgeous, capable doctor who looks at you as if he's going to die if he can't have you?
you. you want more. you WANT him to have you, take you, right here on this rocking chair. you thought teasing him with a few shifts of your hips and some purposeful closings of distances between his face and yours would relay the message. but no. he's either completely oblivious or has the will of a steel that's been fortified ten times over. because even though he's made it incredibly clear that he wants what you want (his blushing cheeks and shortage of breaths are hard to miss), all he's done is sit there and take your teasing.
you frown, retracting your hand. what's it going to take for doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, to give in?
a lightbulb flashes in your head.
"hang on, i missed a spot," you lie, lifting yourself up once more to reach for the shaving cream next to you. "i'll make this quick."
and with that, you slam your hips down.
he groans out loud, eyebrows furrowing and fingers tightening around your hips. he still hasn't opened his eyes though.
"are you sure you're okay, zayne?" you ask innocently, twisting left and right. "i'm worried about you."
"w-why," he starts hoarsely, his fingers gripping for dear life, trying to stop you from moving so damn much. "why would you be worried?"
"oh, i don't know," you smear shaving cream all over his jaw before trailing your fingers down to his neck. "you just seem so…" you slowly trace a heart on his collarbone, eliciting a pretty gasp from him. "out of it."
zayne's eyes jerk open, glaring at you with unprecedented focus. you smile cheekily before pressing yourself deeper into him, eager to bear witness to what he'll do and say since he finally opened his eyes.
though, your smile doesn't last long. in an instant, his hands pin yours behind your back, causing your back to arch and your lips to part.
"i'm starting to think," he secures your wrists in his right hand and brings his left to his face, wiping away the mess you made. "you're doing this on purpose."
you grin. finally. he finally got the message. unable to hide your excitement, you lean in next to his ear and whisper, "what are you going to do about it, doc-tor?"
he inhales sharply, yanking your wrists.
"perhaps," he growls. "it's time you get a taste of your own medicine. prescribed by yours truly."
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Can I pls request a day in Joker's life while taking care of baby Ellis from your previous work? I keep rereading that particular writing of yours because of the delicious angst 👌 I'd like to see how he takes care of his baby while leading a circus troupe and caring for his sick wife at the same time, while actively having to follow the Baron's orders. Just pile on the fluff and angst as much as u want to. Thank you ❤️
ohohoho what a compliment! <3
listen, y'all are supposed to say angst me mommy when you request shit like this... but... I guess I'll let it slide ;P
JUST MAKE SURE U CAN LIVE WITH WHAT YOU'VE UNLEASHED HERE BECAUSE WHEW-
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JOKER’s days start earlier than ever now.
The one solace is that he gets to sleep in the same bed as his wife and wake up next to her in the morning. He gets to roll over, pressed against her, and give her a kiss… cuddle with her for a precious few minutes before the day truly begins. He gets to murmur that he loves her so much, lips painting those words onto her skin, because sometimes he worries that with all the hours he spends away from her, she might not know if he didn’t say it.
He gets to rise and greet his little baby, who’s nearing three months old now. Still just as darling as the day he was born. Although (Name) is getting stronger as she recovers on the treatment plan that the Baron’s doctor gave her, most of the time she only gets up for a few minutes to feed Ellis in the morning.
Joker likes to let her sleep in. He gets up before sunrise, and it’s not fair that she should have to do the same.
Thankfully, Ellis is much less fussy after eating breakfast… and Joker has learned, the hard way, not to bounce the infant on his knee for at least an hour after he eats. (To be fair, Peter also learned that the hard way whilst trying to get Ellis to stop wailing after feeding him a bottle. The fast-paced, busy nature of being a ringleader means that his child has been briefly left with each of the other troupe members at least once, so at least he’s not the only one who’s been spit up on.)
Once he’s made sure Ellis has a quick bath and is wearing clean clothes, it’s time to head over to the fairground. The small bag he carries during the morning is packed fast ― a few nappies and safety pins, a can of Mellin’s that the Baron oh-so graciously provides, a bottle, and a toy in case Ellis needs entertainment.
Then comes the hardest part; leaving (Name). Despite the fact that he’s only going to be gone for the morning, he’ll come home for a brief tea and to drop Ellis off… it still hurts to leave. It feels like he sees so little of her during the day. He almost wishes he didn’t have to go run the circus. One of these days he’s just going to say fuck it all, leave one of the others in charge for a day, and spend the whole morning here at the manor with his wife and child.
He perches himself on the bed with Ellis cradled against his chest in his good arm, and leans down to give his wife a kiss. A soft murmur of, “’Ey, darlin’, I’m off tae work wit’ Ellis now, alrigh’? I’ll be back this afternoon. Love ye,” falls from his lips against hers.
She returns the sentiment with a groggy smile and gives him her usual reply of, “Mmh, okay, sweetheart. See you then. I love you more.”
It kills him to leave. He does anyway… only after carefully tucking the covers back around her to replace how he moved them when he got up. The baby bag is slung over his shoulder, and he looks down at Ellis. “C’mon, wee lad. Let’s let y’r mama sleep ‘n’ we’ll go start our day. Get tae see all y’r aunts ‘n’ uncles.”
With that, he slips out the bedroom door and through the estate’s back exit, and he heads toward the fairground.
By the time he gets to the mess tent to grab a bite, the rest of the first-stringers are nearly done with breakfast. Thank God he gets to spend a short while with them before the hectic rush of the day sets in, or else he’s sure he’d never survive till afternoon. As soon as he sets the bag down and takes a seat, his free hand starts to dig in to the plate the others have fixed for him. “Mornin’, all. How’s ev’ryone doin’?”
As his family all mumble variations of, “Jus’ fine, not bad,” Freckles squeals and reaches over to take Ellis. “Aaaaah, y’ brought the baby!! Oiii, Ellis, sweet boy, c’mere ‘n’ spend some time with y’r Auntie Freckles while Papa eats!”
Sitting next to them, Wendy reaches over to ruffle Ellis’ little mop of auburn hair. “Joker, y’ gotta tell this kid t’ stop growin’. ‘e was jus’ a li’l, tiny thing, then we turn round ‘n’ ‘e’s gettin’ so big already.”
Peter beside her scoffs. “Oi, yeah, at this rate ‘e’s gonna end up taller’n us. Tell ‘im t’ cut it out; I don’t need someone thir’y years younger’n me towerin’ over me like some giant!”
“Aw, would y’ shut y’r yap? It’s big enough t’ make up f’r the rest’a y,” Freckles giggles, leaning down simply so Ellis can grab and play with their hair. “We should be ‘appy ‘e’s growin’! Look at ‘im, ‘e’s jus’ perfect.” When the baby coos and laughs at them, with a fistful of their hair in his hand, they look up at the ringleader almost pleadingly. “Oh, my God, Joker, I want one!!”
Joker has to pause to take a drink so he doesn’t choke on the last bite he took. God, they’re so funny… and yet, he knows they desperately want to start a family like he has. He almost feels bad that he ‘beat’ them to doing so. “Hah! Well, then, ye better find a beau an’ get busy, Doll, ‘cause that one’s mine!”
Dagger nudges Freckles in the ribs with his elbow. “Yeah, I think (Name) would ‘ave somethin’ t’ say ‘bout y’ takin’ ‘er baby!”
“Oh, yeah?” The fact that Ellis tugs on their hair apparently doesn’t dissuade them from wanting to keep him. They just grin bigger. “Bring ‘er ‘ere, I’ll fight ‘er! Winner takes ‘im!”
Everybody shares a laugh, and soon it tapers off into more subdued chatter as the meal is finished. It’s a welcome few moments before the day begins in full.
Joker lets Freckles keep holding the baby, making sure they’re fine to watch him for a few minutes as he makes his morning rounds. Of course, they don’t mind a bit. They’re probably disappointed they don’t get to spend more than a few minutes with him.
Things are always bustling in the morning, bright and full of activity when he walks around the tents. The second-stringers are heading to get breakfast now that the first-stringers are done, and the rest of his little family are practicing or getting ready to do so. He sees some of the newer members hurrying back from the mess tent, food in hand, to gather round Jumbo; as he often does during downtime, he’s started to play his harmonica.
Maybe he’s become soft, too soft, after Ellis’ birth, but Joker lets himself linger for a moment. He puts a hand on the newbies’ shoulders and sings along to the harmonica’s tune. Makes a few puns, gets a couple of laughs. Smiles at everyone. As much as he considers only the other first-stringers, his wife, and child his real family, he’s started to feel more and more like a father to the new members, especially the young ones.
After all, every single one of them was somebody’s child once. Don’t they all deserve to feel loved and protected like that?
His heart leaps into his throat when he thinks about his own baby. He remembers what he must have been thinking when he agreed to the Baron’s deal after Ellis was first born; Joker feels everything so intensely, just the hint of a future grief trying to raise his little boy without his wife was more than he could bear. Because Ellis is his, because (Name) is his, he can’t help but feel like they deserve all that love and protection more than anyone else.
Is he selfish for thinking that? Is he, or is that how everyone feels about their wives and children?
His voice trails off before he knows it, mind haunted by the shadow of future grief replaced by a future in which he’s eaten alive by guilt.
Soon enough, he disappears, shaken by his own thoughts, and collects his baby from Freckles. They give Ellis kisses on the head and pout when they have to relinquish him. The infant giggles in response; tugging a few strands of their hair in his little hand.
As Joker takes Ellis back against his own chest, he looks at Freckles. He hopes they get their own baby someday, someday soon if they meet the right person, and he prays they don’t make the same mistakes he’s made.
The day passes as normally as any day has passed by this point. Joker is sure it’s funny to watch him rehearsing whilst holding Ellis. Although he never moves around too much like this, it must be a sight to see him moving and pointing and gesturing with his bad arm with a baby nestled up in the crook of his good arm.
Not only that, Ellis makes all manner of little baby sounds. Which, while quite normal, are amusing additions to whatever Joker himself happens to be saying. In one breath he’s suggesting a change to the trapeze routine, and the next, Ellis is laughing at the sight of Peter missing his cue in such a way that his hat hits Wendy in the face. (Really. It’s entertaining in itself that not even a troupe full of troubled circus performers can resist laughing along after a baby starts to laugh. Even Peter and Wendy join in laughing.)
Despite the fact that his work is never really done, Joker has to leave shortly after they’ve all had tea. He’ll be back for the evening show, but now that Ellis has been fed, he’s been awake for long enough to start fussing because he’s sleepy. So it’s back to the Baron’s to put the baby down for a nap. Several hours of being fawned over and cooed at is tiring when you’re not very old, after all.
Besides… if Joker doesn’t go back for a short while, he won’t see (Name) again till he crawls into bed after midnight. He needs a few moments with her.
Thankfully, his darling wife is awake by afternoon. Even though she still gets tired easily, she’s usually regained some of her strength after being able to rest in the mornings. She’s not so weak anymore that just feeding the baby drains her, at least, and that means she’s in better spirits. Once Joker puts Ellis down, she’ll be able to stay up to watch him for the rest of the day.
Seeing her always perks him up. Just being able to kiss her and hold her in his arms for a couple of minutes is enough to get him through the rest of the day’s drudgery. Her smile, the sparkle of her eyes when she looks at him, the loving way she cradles Ellis before Joker sets him down in the crib… he still doesn’t know how he got so lucky.
Even though he wants to stay, he forces himself to slip out. One last kiss for his wife, one last kiss to the crown of his son’s head, and he has to head back to the fairground. If he doesn’t, he’ll just get greedy enough to not leave at all.
He’s at least resolved to get through the night once he returns to the circus. He keeps his memories close, and they drive him.
The show is a success. It always is. They all make sure to give the audience something spectacular to look at… and despite the fact that they’re certainly not getting rich, they manage to scrape by. They survive, they earn just enough so that no one has to go hungry. If nothing else, Joker can be proud of that.
Everyone is tired by the time night falls, but the first-stringers still have more to do. They all leave Snake to watch over everyone else, and they gather a short distance away from all the tents.
They all make their last adjustments — Freckles grumbling as they fidget with their parasol, Dagger trying to work out the kinks in his bad leg, Peter and Wendy quietly bickering in the affectionate way only siblings can. Joker’s almost unaware he’s been lost in thought until suddenly Beast is tightening his scarf like she thinks he’s about to catch his death of cold.
“Y’ need ta get some sleep,” she sighs.
He tilts his head, and he’s certain the smile he gives doesn’t meet his eyes. She can see right through it, at least. “Oi, I get ‘s much sleep as the rest’f ye lot.”
She scoffs. “No, y’ don’t. Ellis ain’t old enough t’ sleep through the night, which means you ain’t sleepin’ through the night. Y’re the only one’a us who’s got a baby. Wish y’d let (Name) come back ‘ere with ‘im. Maybe the two’a y’ might get some sleep if we take turns watchin’ ‘im at night.”
It’s painful for all of them. Beast feels guilty, too, he knows that; she also misses (Name)’s company. He knows everyone would be happier if she could have stayed here, especially after giving birth. Things just… didn’t work out that way. There would have been none of her staying here with how sick she got after Ellis was born. She might have died.
And now that she’s getting better… can he even bring her and Ellis back here? Everything is so different, so much worse.
“Soon,” he says softly, even though he’s not sure he means it. He gently brings Beast’s hand down, a silent reassurance that for right now, he’s fine. “She’s startin’ ta feel better… maybe she can come back soon.”
Beast huffs, and her eyes soften, and she shakes her head, and that’s the end of it. Distractions won’t serve them right now.
When they move into the streets, Joker notices that he still hesitates. Every move he and the others make, it puts him in physical pain. To do the things they’re doing, the things the Baron orders them to do… fuck. It makes him hate himself more than ever.
Least of all because if he doesn’t follow orders, then that’s it. His life is over.
If he talks back, if he shows regret, if he does anything that implies he’s questioning his ‘father’… then the Baron will cut off the medicine that’s been helping (Name) to recover. And he’s so done with Joker’s second guessing, he’s been threatening to pull out every little bit of security he’s affording the entire troupe.
If he doesn’t do these things that make him sick, his wife will die. His family will wither. Any chance at saving anything that’s meaningful to him disappears into thin air.
Once they’re all done for the night, once everyone else has returned to their tents, Joker has to stop on the way back to the Baron’s manor. He has to brace himself against a building and struggle to catch his breath.
He doesn’t know whether his body is trying to make him vomit or cry, but whichever it is, tears of strain and sorrow burst to life at the edges of his eyes regardless.
His throat is raw by the time his body decides to stop tormenting him. So his voice comes out raspy as he settles into bed, murmuring, “Jus’ me, darlin’,” when he puts his arms around (Name). He could barely look at Ellis upon walking into the room, his sweet baby fast asleep, after everything he’s done tonight.
He worries about both of them when he isn’t here. But they both seem alright, and his wife was just awake enough to be waiting for him. She rolls over to greet him, to kiss him goodnight, to snuggle in against his chest.
And he holds her, as tight as he possibly can without hurting her. Like she’s the one thing keeping his head above water.
He never sleeps well these days. He closes his eyes all the same, tired from the weight of this life he’s been living.
Tomorrow, he has to get up and do it all over again.
He knows he’s going to wake up more exhausted than he is falling asleep now.
His mind taunts him. How much longer can you keep all this up, Joker?
He doesn’t have an answer.
He just buries his face in (Name)’s neck, tells her one more time that he loves her, and lets sleep take him.
For the millionth time, he knows he will wake up to unanswered prayers.
At least, he thinks, he still has his family, his wife, and his child.
So for the millionth time, because of them, he prays anyway:
Please, God. Let things be better in the morning.
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mo-nmage · 2 years ago
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making myself consume happy romance media instead of angsty books and movies because i keep writing angsty rayllum drabbles and it's about time i let them smile
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solitaire-sol · 2 years ago
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05: North
For: @prongsfoot-microfic
Month: August 2023
AO3: Link
Notes: A bit more than the usual 500 words; the actual microfic is 500, but there are some short 'extras' in the form of two endings I couldn't choose between, so I went with a third one and included the extras in case anyone still wanted to read them.
In their third year, fresh from the holidays, Sirius was in the middle of unpacking, eager to put his time away behind him, when James threw himself on Sirius' bed and shoved a small package in his face. Sirius accepted automatically, if suspiciously: James was grinning broadly, his “I know something you don't” grin, and Sirius liked to think that James didn't keep secrets from him.
“Go on,” James urged. “Open it!”
“Alright, don't nag,” Sirius retorted, but tore it open regardless, revealing a box of the kind that typically held jewelry. Something contracted within him, taut with a strange anticipation that Sirius didn't know what to do with, so he forced it aside and tipped a small, gray-black ring into his palm. It looked like ore, polished to a mirror's sheen, but it seemed utterly mundane. Sirius looked back to James with a quirked brow.
“Oh, give it here,” James said, bouncing up to take the ring in one hand and Sirius' hand in the other. Sirius had a moment to wonder why this made him a little breathless, or why he felt strangely warm when James (slightly clumsily, but with great enthusiasm) slid the ring onto the proper finger.
“Now, think about me!” James instructed, as if Sirius needed to be told.
“James,” Sirius said, his tone carrying a slight warning – stop making me feel things with no explanation – but he paused at a faint pulse of warmth from the ring. It felt like sunlight on a cold day, like a shared scarf on a snowy walk, like James, just a few seconds ago, holding Sirius' hand.
It felt like James, and when Sirius turned to James, mouth slightly open but not quite sure which words to say, the warmth increased as if to indicate the shift in direction.
“It works, right?” James crowed, pleased with himself in the way that Sirius always found endearing. “I just about destroyed Dad's workshop, trying to make the charms stick, but this way-- I mean, we can't get you owls,” James explained, his words bumping into each other the way they did when he was flustered. “And when we come back, you're always a little--”
James glanced away. “It's so you don't forget. About me, or... Because we're best friends, right, even if I'm not... where you are.”
It was a bit much to ask of a thirteen-year-old, explaining feelings that were only just beginning to be known, so it was a relief when Sirius flung an arm around James' neck and asked if he was 'going all soppy on him,' and the ensuing scuffle excused both the color in James' cheeks and the irregular beat of Sirius' heart. Really, there was never any danger of Sirius forgetting James, but he still kept the ring through Hogwarts and beyond; it lacked the utility of the two-way mirrors, but there was something to be said for having a little piece of James in his hand, whenever he wanted, wherever he might be.
BONUS?
Years later, when those halcyon Hogwarts days are already lost to the past and Sirius' world has fallen apart, he finds himself shivering through a prematurely cold November, frost riming the surfaces in the semi-abandoned basement he's temporarily taken refuge in, because Merlin knows he can't go back to the Order-- Not with what he knows, not with what he plans to do. Sirius clings to the rage, to the sense of betrayal, and he occupies himself with the many myriad ways he's going to take Peter apart; little Peter, poor, easily-impressed Wormtail, who admired James so greatly and had sent him to his death. Sirius prefers his murderous thoughts to any of the others that crowd around him in that damp, unpleasant space, because he'd rather focus on the prospect of violence than on the life he might have to lead now, the knowledge that one of their best friends betrayed them after all, the guilt of pressing James to change their Secret Keeper, the idea that he'll have to live without--
Sirius' hand goes to that ring, one of many, now, but infinitely more precious because it was the first: Silver-black in the light that drips through boarded-up windows, humble in appearance, Sirius clings to it like a talisman, still unwilling to take it off even though he knows that its purpose has likely come and gone. He knows where James is, after all, or what's left of James, he saw the fallen body and the wide-open eyes devoid of the light and the life that Sirius has loved for so long. Even so.
Even so...
Sirius, back against the wet-slick wall behind him, lifts his hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the ice-cold ring, barely noticing the tremor that passes through him. James, he thinks, James, James, James--
Not the body back in Godric's Hollow, not the man with the shadows under his eyes that Sirius had last seen through the mirror, but James as he lives in Sirius' best memories: The boy that Sirius met on the train, the boy he grew up with, the boy he loved, who grew into the man who Sirius wants, more than anything, to see again. One last time, if never again, he wants to feel that warmth, that sunlight, please--
Alternate Ending 01: Half-Full
Faint but undeniable, that familiar warmth pulses from the ring; the basement remains unchanged, but to Sirius, it's as if the mildew-streaked walls have been suddenly bathed in golden light. The whisper of James' magic, imbued into the ring what feels like a lifetime ago, ripples faintly, like James murmuring in his sleep; for a moment, Sirius can almost feel James' hand in his.
The moment passes, the magic goes dormant, but that's all right. Sirius' eyes close, his breath puffing into mist as he exhales shakily, and he presses the hand wearing the ring against his chest as if trying to draw the remnants of that warmth into his heart. James is gone, but not really. Not in the way that Sirius feared.
Now that he knows this, now that he's sure, Sirius knows what he has to do.
Alternate Ending 02: Half-Empty
... Nothing. There is no stirring of familiar magic, no sought-after warmth; the ring is just a ring, now, as empty as the man who made it, a reminder that nothing lasts forever and the promises of children mean nothing in the face of what men do. Sirius knows this, has known it, but he had hoped, he had stupidly, desperately hoped to be proven wrong.
He tries again, regardless, and again, and again, until he's forgotten why he was thinking of James at all, because it's been so natural for him to do so and now he can never think of James without the reminder that James is gone. It almost makes Sirius want to discard the ring entirely, to rip it from his hand and hurl it into the streets and let it lie there, forgotten, to be buried under the snow. He does not, because even a painful reminder of James is better than nothing, and now painful reminders are all that he has. James is gone, and wherever he might be, if he still exists at all, lies far beyond Sirius' reach.
Now that he knows this, now that he's sure, Sirius knows what he has to do.
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kilojulietsierra · 1 month ago
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Just In Case (Dr Jack Abbot x FemaleResident!Reader)
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Summary: He had given Robby so much shit about Collins. "Really brother? One of your residents?" Then you had put in a request to move to the night shift and Robby had fucking signed off on it.
Warning: all my content is considered 18+ only, smut, age gap unspecified, reader is one of Jacks resident, fluff, smut, angst, happy ending, as always barely proofread or edited plz forgive me
A quick note: I know I promised this forever ago, but I'll be completely honest, this is NOT the story I started out to write! But holy fuck it took over with a mind of it's own and I really love the way it turned out so I hope y'll do too!! also, again, shout-out to the gif creater above because this one's still my fav
ENJOY!
~~~~~
He had given Robby so much shit about Collins. "Really brother? One of your residents?"
Then you had put in a request to move to the night shift and Robby had fucking signed off on it.
Jack liked you from the jump. Smart, witty, a little dark like he was and not afraid to jump into the chaos with no need to know how deep. You had fit right in on his shift and for a long time you were just his best resident. His BEST, fucking resident, because God you were good. Every trauma, every code, every shitty shift you were right there doing the work and it was clear you loved all of it.
Jack had asked Robby one morning, "So, what's the deal? Why'd you let her go? You usually like to keep the star pupils to yourself."
Robby had just made that face at him, that annoying one with the shrug. "Thought I'd make her your problem for awhile."
Then the next night Jack had to split up you and the R4 in the middle of the hub. "What in the actual fuck are you two doing?" His presence had been enough to put some distance between the both of you, but you were pissed and the R4 was not letting it go.
"She walked all over my case."
"Because you were fucking it up! That girl did not have time to wait, and I told you that three times."
"And I told you to stay in your lane, I'm your senior resident."
"You are a dipshit, that was going to kill that girl by lack of action."
"Enough." Jack didn't yell. He didn't need to. He stood, hands clasped behind his back, face hard and waited.
"Dr. Abbot, she has authority issues, and it's interfering with her patient care and everyone elses."
"I don't have an issue with authority," If looks could kill the R4 would have dropped dead. Then you turned that look on him and it didn't have the venom in it, but the fight was there, that unwavering confidence, "I have a problem with misplaced authority."
Jack had held your gaze as you'd said it then nodded. He'd sent you both on your separate ways and excused himself to the bathroom where he took a leak and then stood with his hands braced on the sink as he stared himself down in the mirror. "What the fuck?" He whispered to himself as he rocked side to side and shook his head at his own reflection. He should've been annoyed at you two, not himself, but something about that look you had given him. It was like it had flipped some sort of switch. Like suddenly you weren't just his best resident, you were also…
The bathroom door swung open, "Dr. Abbot, we have a code blue coming in, ETA 5 minutes."
He nodded, "Set up trauma two."
Every shift after that he caught himself thinking things he should not be thinking about his resident. Yes you were his best resident, talented and dedicated, but you were also gorgeous. Not that he had never noticed, but now it was something he couldn't help but pay attention to. In between patients, when you passed by him or stood a little too close, he felt his pulse quicken. He couldn't help but watch you a little closer, the way you were so soft and calm with nervous patients, the way you didn't take shit from the combative ones. The confidence you had in your abilities and the drive you had to be better.
Your eyes. Those beautiful fucking eyes that never shied away from him. Your smile. Not big and bright or soft or sweet. No, the one that drove him fucking crazy? That was the tiny one, the barely there tick of your lips, up to one side before you could fight it back. That one was his favorite, because it felt like he had to earn that one. Like he had done something, just enough, to get you to crack. Like there was something you were trying to keep to yourself and if he said the right thing, did the right thing, you'd show him what it was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been a long night. A long week. Jack had gone up for some air and some quiet. He had his back leaned against the railing and hands in his pockets, eyes trained on the horizon.
The access door opened and he furrowed his brow. Robby wasn't working today.
When he looked over his shoulder the last person he had expected to see was you, just standing there with one of your easy smiles. "Need me, you could have called."
You just shrugged as you came closer. "Don't need anything, Day shift is trickling in." You came to lean next to him. Close enough to touch. "You good boss?"
Jack glanced sideways at you. Your hair was falling down, eyes tired, smile careful. He had to fight the urge to lean towards you, close that distance just to touch, even if it was just your shoulder against his. He shook his head, "Just one of those nights. You good?"
You nodded, leaned over the railing carefully to look down, "Do you actually think about it? When you come up here or is it just... a thing you do?"
He's not sure he would have been more surpised if you had slapped him. He looked at you long and hard. When you didn't flinch, didn't shy away, he shrugged. "Depends on the day." Jack cracks a little smirk for you, to ease the tension.
You smile back at him, unphased, as you stood up a little straighter. His eyes track your every move as you lean across the railing.
Jack had been wrong when he thought he couldn't be more surprised if you'd slapped him. Becuase the last thing he would have ever expected was that you would lean across the railing and kiss him.
It wasn't anything crazy. A quick brush of your lips over his. Not long enough. When you didn't pull back all the way he watched you close. Studied you. "Just in case." You shrugged as you finally stepped back.
You were about to turn and leave when he asked, "In case what?"
You gave him another smile, this time with something in your eyes that you didn't try to hide from him as the sun crept up over the skyline. "In case tonight was one of those nights."
It wasn't. It was one of those nights, but not one of THOSE nights. Jack liked that it hadn't been some big thing. Quick and light. He liked that you hadn't hesitated. He liked that if it had been one of those nights, you thought a kiss would have changed something. It changed everything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You know, the park beers is really more of a day shift thing."
You turned to the side and inwardly scolded yourself for not hearing him approach. "No beer." You shrugged but didn't offer up anything else.
Jack took another step closer, "Thinkin' about that kid?" He shrugged his backpack up higher and waited for your response.
You looked him over and even after the night you'd had, you had to fight back a smile because he looked good. This was your favorite version of Dr. Jack Abbot. Cargo pants, hair a mess and he'd pulled his scrub top off at some point and had worked the last couple hours in just atight, black t-shirt. You took a deep breath, "You goin' to tell me I did everything I could?"
He shook his head, "You already know that."
You nodded, "Yep."
"C'mon, I'll give you a ride home."
"Why?" You looked up at him, skeptical.
The grin he gave you washed all that away, "Just in case."
You thought maybe it would be awkward, letting Jack drive you home after what you'd done on the roof four shifts ago. It wasn't. Then when he had pulled up in front of your building, you thought for sure it would be awkward, but it wasn't. He just put the truck in park and tipped his head to catch your eye, "Go get some sleep okay." When you didn't move right away, he gave you a little nod, "I'll see you tomorrow."
You felt sick to your stomach suddenly, like you had been very wrong. "Jack…If I…"
He draped his wrist over the steering wheel and his eyes were soft, "Tomorrows a new day."
"Get that from Robby?" you tried to swallow down the bile in your throat, force a smile.
Jack shrugged, gave you a smirk. "Maybe. I mean it, get some sleep."
You had started to climb out of the truck, but your hand paused on the handle. You were always something of a go big or go home kind of girl. So, you turned back, leaned across the console and didn't give yourself or Jack the chance to think twice. You kissed him again. More than a quick peck this time and the air rushed out of your lungs when his lips moved with yours, slow and steady.
You were about to pull back when you felt the hand that had been draped over the steering wheel cradle the back of your head and keep you there.
When Jack did eventually let you pull away his eyes locked onto yours. "What was that for?"
You whispered, scared to get your hopes up, "Just in case I don't get another chance."
He dropped his head back against the headrest and held your gaze, "If I promise you'll get another chance, will you go upstairs and get some rest?" When you nodded he cracked a little smile, "I'll see you tomorrow."
~~~~~~
Giving you a ride home became a thing, not after every shift but more and more.
It felt like you both just craved that little bit of time alone, together. It wasn't even something seedy or scandalous, he would just... drive you home.
Sometimes you'd kiss him, sometimes he'd reach out for your hand and hold it the whole way to your apartment. At some point it turned into drive thru coffee. He didn't just pull up out front anymore, he'd park in a spot and you would talk.
Jack told you about his wife first. The broken part of him figured; get the rough stuff out of the way first. If you were going to change your mind that would do it, and he'd rather deal with it sooner than later. He told you and you had just held his hand, your thumb working circles over his palm with tears in your eyes. "I don't have the words Jack, God I wish I did..."
He didn't need you to have the words. The look in your eyes unwavering and the grip on his hand was enough. He had just shaken his head, throat still hoarse and had lifted the back of your hands to his lips. That was enough.
He told you about his leg. You never flinched once and this time it was him that stroked his thumb over your palm. Back and forth, where they rested together on the console. You had just leaned forward, held his gaze and told him it made him more of a man.
He told you about his PTSD, explained his little visits to the roof, told you about his therapist. You said you were proud of him, and leaned over to kiss him and steal the last bagel bite out of his lap. Jack had grinned, watched the way your face lit up to see it, even if your eyes were a little misty. "I want to tell him about you..." Jack waited, watched you like his life depended on it. Because, even then he knew this couldn't be casual, not for him, and if it was real he was going to do it right.
You had laughed and he panicked for half a second before you leaned in to kiss him again. "You mean, we've been working together this long and you haven't already complained about me to your therapist?"
He laughed, and God it felt like a gulp of air. He sank his hand into your hair and slammed your mouth to his. Kissed you like you'd never been kissed before.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning you had whispered, "Come upstairs?" He'd thought he might combust then and there. He had searched your eyes. Those gorgeous fucking eyes that never wavered under his. He'd never forget the pretty way you bit your lip, or the way your eyes flashed with something he hadn't seen yet when he gave you one more quick kiss and turned off his truck.
Any lingering thought or rationalization that you could be something casual went out the fucking window the moment you let him press you up against the inside of your apartment door and kiss you the way he'd been wanting to for months.
The way you gasped and moaned so pretty for him when he pinned your wrists over your head with one hand and slipped the other inside your scrub pants. "Jesus Christ sweetheart..." He murmured into your ear when he felt how hot and wet you were for him.
"Jack," Your eyes fluttered closed as he eased the first, thick finger inside you, "Shit." You fidgeted, tried to chase his hand with your hips, but you didn't fight his hold on your wrists or the way he pressed you into the hard surface. You groaned, showed your teeth in something between a smile and a snarl as he gave you a second finger, but did not change his rythym.
He kept his strokes slow, steady, deep. Kissed every part of you he could reach at this angle. Your neck, the hollow of your throat the shell of your ear, before always returning to your mouth. "Feel good?"
You nodded, frantic, gave him an airy, 'Mhmm."
"Yeah?" He mouthed at the soft spot just below your ear as he finally sped up his movements and felt the way your pussy quivered and clenched around his fingers. Jack smiled as he moved up to rest his forhead against yours, "Yeah..." He answered himself as he studied your face, felt the warm puffs of air as you panted and gasped, his palm resting over your clit as he drove his fingers deeper.
"Oh shit, shit," Your words cut off with a groan as he pressed against the little bundle of nerves harder.
"Yeah?" He licked his lips and fought back a smirk as he kissed you softly, pulled his fingers out and circled them over your clit. Firmer, faster. "Going to cum for me already, aren't you sweetheart?"
"Yeah." You chased after his kiss like you needed it to breathe, your weight sinking into his hand begging for more.
Eyes locked on yours, foreheads together he gave you a little nod, "Yeah, go ahead," He sped up the circling of his fingers until both of you were breathing heavy, "Go ahead, sweetheart, go ahead."
When your eyes fluttered and rolled back Jack didn't stop, only pressed you harder into the door and kissed you in the most unholy way as you came apart for him.
Slowly as you can back down he eased off the pressure of his fingers, slipped them back inside of you and relished in the little convulsions he felt as he gave you long, slow, steady strokes. He teased at your lips, kissing and nipping until you giggled and he finally released your hands from above your head. "Good girl." He whispered as he gave you a final kiss and pulled back.
The look in your eyes told him this probably couldn't be casual for you either.
You laughed when he ducked, lifted you up by the thighs and carried you towards your bedroom.
"Don't laugh, I'm not that old." He chuckled with you into the hollow of your throat. A chuckle that turned into a groan when you carded your fingers into his already messy curls and tugged.
He had laid you down on the bed and stripped you naked as fast as possible. Desperate to get his hands, his mouth on every inch of you until you whined his name and fisted your hand in the back of his scrub top.
Jack smiled against your hip, "What?"
"Off."
"What?" He asked again as he sucked a little bruise into the smooth skin before him.
You groaned, half annoyed and half giddy, and shoved at him until he looked you in the eyes, "Take your fucking shirt off."
He chuckled, gave you a grin and rose up to his knees so he could reach behind him and pull his scrub top and undershirt off in one go. Jack couldn't help but take that half a second, to watch you hum happily and chew on your lip, to let it stroke his ego, before he buried his face between your legs.
~~~~~~
He had put it off as long as he could, shoved the thought aside and focused all of his attention on you. But, eventually, you had pulled and clawed at him until he crawled over you to cover your body with his and kiss you properly again. Jack let you take some of his weight as he kissed you, soaked in the warmth and the feel of you under him.
He knew he'd have to take his pants off, that the prosthesis would be some sort of jarring reminder and this would all be over.
He focused on your hands and how fucking good if felt as you stroked up the muscles of his back, hooked your fingers over his shoulders and pulled him closer. The way your fingertips skimmed over his arms, squeezing his biceps and smiling under his kisses like you enjoyed the way he felt. It had almost been involuntary. The jerk of his hips when you had skated your nails low over his sides, too low, too close to the waistband of his boxers where the band peeked up over the top of his pants. The way he had rolled his hips against yours and gave you a hint of just how badly he wanted you.
You made that happy little humming sound again and stroked your hands up over his back and down again. FIngertips leaving little divots under them as they moved. "Jack," Your voice was soft, airy and tight, "Am I gonna have to tell you to take your pants off too?" You fought for his eye contact and for the first time he couldn't give it to you.
Jack buried his face in your neck and kissed over your pulse, whispered his answer there instead, "Sweetheart," He breathed deep and Jesus you smelled like sex and sweat and soap and everything good in this world. "Only way this really works, is if I take the leg off." He waited. Expected the worst.
When you tugged on his hair he caved, lifted his head and looked you in the eye. You held his gaze and opened your eyes wide like you were about to make a point and wanted it to land, "Then take the fucking leg off," You cracked a smile, "Or I'm going to do it, and I have no clue how it works so..."
Jack fucking loved you. He knew he loved you, because he had said the first thing that came to mind, "Want me to show you?" With a chuckle and a nod you kissed him and with no hesitation answered, "Yeah, kinda."
So, as awkward and unsexy as it was, he showed you.
He showed you how the mechanism worked, grinned at you and shook his head as you tried to pull it off the first time. He'd turned an embarrassing shade of pink when he'd warned you, "It's not going to smell good. You know that right?"
You had scoffed, rolled your eyes at him. "I'm a doctor. I'm sure I can handle it."
Jack couldn't remember the last time he had laughed this hard. Especially not in bed, with a sexy, young woman, where ten minutes ago the only thing on his mind had been fucking your brains out. Now, you were collapsed on his chest and cackling uncontrollably with his prosthetic leg in one hand dangling off the side of the bed. All he could do was cradle the back of your head and try to catch his breath, because even as you were laughing, you were peppering kisses over his chest and he swore that if this didn't scare you away he would never let you go.
When you caught your breath and sat up, you set his prosthesis down by the nightstand and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "Now, take your pants off."
His eyes followed you as you crawled off the bed and walked naked to the bathroom. He tried to fight down the nerves as he did shuck his other shoe, sock and his scrub pants off, then pushed himself up to lean against your headboard. He listened to a cupboard open and close, water run. When you reentered the room and tossed a bath towel on the bed and crawled back to him with a warm, soapy rag in your hand he furrowed his brow.
"I fucking dare you to make one sponge bath joke. I swear to God." You didn't hesitate as you knelt in front of him and began to run the rag over what remained of his lower leg. Your fingers massaging the aching muscles as you went.
All Jack could do was shake his head side to side as he let his eyes fall closed and his body sink deeper into your pillows.
~~~~~
Jack hadn't meant to zone out, but Christ it had felt too good. Your soft, capable hands working over the tension in his leg after a long shift. The relief it brought, physical and mental, was unbelievable. He barely noticed you had stopped until you had moved to straddle his lap and kiss up the side of his neck.
"Fall asleep on me?"
He chuckled, "Almost." and wrapped his arms around your waist to drag you closer.
"Feel good?" You copied his question from earlier, whispered it against throat.
"Too fucking good." His cock had softened some from the relaxation, but when he pulled you down to settle against him fully he could feel himself harden by the second. "You're too fucking good for me." He caressed from your knees, over your thighs, up your waist and ribcage, until his fingers traced over the line of your arms where they had wrapped around his neck.
"Don't say that." You kissed him, deep, and rolled your hips over him. Whined a little that his boxer briefs still kept you seperated from what you both wanted. The whine turned into a squeal as he flipped you over without warning, Put you on your back like you had started.
Jack hovered over you braced on strong arms. "You still want this?" He rocked his hips into yours and searched your eyes. He could see that you knew what he meant. Not just this, not just the moment, not just sex. Him. HIs past, his baggage, all the complications that a relationship with your attending would bring.
"Yes. All of it." You looked him in the eye and smiled. Cute and sweet. Drastically at odds with the way your hands were shoving his underwear down over his hips.
Then he watched those pretty eyes roll back in your head, because he wasn't going to waste another second not knowing what it felt like to be inside you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack had panicked the first time he'd said he loved you.
He'd thought it from the start, but it had always felt to soon, too real, too say it out loud. To risk it.
Then he had woken up late one afternoon, after a restless few hours of sleep and you weren't in bed beside him. His mind, already primed for the worst case scenario after a long week, worried that you'd finally had enough. That he'd scared you away and you'd snuck off while he was asleep but, then he'd found you in the kitchen.
He paused at the corner and breathed deep as he watched you. Your back turned to him, in some t-shirt of his you'd dug out of a drawer to sleep in, hair tosseled from sleep. You were glaring at the coffee maker, arms crossed and swaying side to side, as if you could force the machine into expedience. He could feel the anxiety seep out of him as he watched you. Made his way to you.
"Where are your crutches?" Was how you greeted him, your voice rough and exhausted like him.
Jack just slid his arms around you waist and kissed the back of your head. Relished the feel of you sinking more of your weight back into him. "Bedroom." He shifted to place a kiss closer to your neck.
"Ja-ack"
"Wha-at?" He copied your tone and squeezed you tighter. He liked that you worried. With one hand he swept your hair to the side so he could kiss your neck and chuckled against it when you groaned. Annoyed, not aroused. "Been gettin' around just fine for over a decade baby."
You had grumbled, rolled your eyes, but leaned into him and smoothed your hands over his forearms, your thumbs traced the furrows in the muscle. "I know."
The coffee maker beeped, but you made no move to reach for a cup. Jack liked that you worried. He liked that you took up space in his home, in his life. He liked that you'd taken over half his bathroom, that his sheets smelled like you, that your car had a spot in his garage. He liked that you'd started teasing him about trying to get out of your lease as much time as you spent at his house. Hell, he'd pay off your fucking lease if it meant he could have you here, with him, all the time.
He wrapped his arms around you impossibly tighter and squeezed, smiled at the content little hum you let you and the way your head dropped back against his shoulder. His lips pressed against your temple, barely a kiss, "I love you."
There was no shocked expression on your face, no teary eyes, or fumbling words. Just that little smile, that ticked up in one corner, the one that he'd loved from the start. "I've been patiently waiting, but you were starting to make me nervous." You stood up and turned around in his arms. Smile wider as you wrapped your arms around his neck and your eyes flickered when he tightened his grip on your waist again. Locked you against him, arms flexing the way you always liked. Your lips brushed his briefly and then you pulled back to look him in the eye, "I love you too."
Saying it, finally, felt amazing. Like a weight off of his chest.
Hearing you say it, knowing that you meant it... felt like CPR, something bringing a piece of him back to life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two of you had mismatched shifts all week because you had covered some days for Cassie while she had court. So, if you saw eachother it was only in passing, at home or at the hospital. This would be your last shift on days before a weekend off and you would be back on nights, with Jack. Where you belonged.
Jack caught a glimpse of you as he walked in, but continued towards the hub where Robby was already packing up his bag like he was in a hurry.
"Hey brother, sorry but I got a thing, I got to run." Robby picked up his bag and met Jack at the corner of the station. "Your girl is goin' to do the handoff." He gave his friend a smug look as he held his fist out.
Jack scoffed, gave Robby the first bump, but gave him a shove with it. "Don't do that, and don't act like I don't know what your 'thing' is." Jack stared him down, "Let me know how it goes."
Robby nodded, "Yeah, I will. Have a good night man."
Lena and Dana looked up at Jack in unison as he dropped his bag into the chair and together they said, "She's in fifteen."
Jack scowled at the two of them, "Why are you all like this?"
Lena just chuckled and ducked out to get to work. Dana grabbed her jacket and wrapped her hand around Jacks arm, "Just a heads up, someone, I won't name names, has been hounding her all day. Playin' twenty questions about Dr. Abbot, so… she might be a little salty."
With a deep breath he shook his head and draped his stethoscope around his neck.
Dana chuckled, "She doesn't know… so, it's harmless. Just watch your step with your girl. she's had a long one." She grabbed her bag and paused as she moved to step around him, "For what it's worth, the sooner you start wearing a wedding around here again the better for all of us I think." She gave him a wink.
Jack leaned down just enough they were eye to eye. "Dana… go home."
She gave him a smile and a wink, smiled a little wider when his scowl cracked, "Fifteen."
Which is exactly where he found you, right outside the room typing on one of the portable stations.
Work had always been work and honestly he loved you even more for that, because there was something sexy about the fact that you had the self control to keep home and work seperate. Most of the time. You were still his best resident, by far, and now his senior resident. It was fun for him to see you thrive with that responsibility. It was also fun for him to occasionally toe that line, get that little rise out of you that he'd pay for later.
Today, he felt like pushing that boundary. So, he took a quick glance around before he stepped up close, bumped your shoulder with his and tipped his head to whisper.
"Think carefully about what you're about to say, Dr. Abbot."
He bit back a smirk, definitly feisty tonight. "Ready to come back to nights?" He leaned a little closer than necessary and dropped his voice, "Where you belong."
You continued to type, never even looked at him, "What's it worth to you?"
"How about you finish up here, go get some rest, and I'll show you when I get home?"
That got you a little, he could tell by the way you bit the inside of your cheek and a little color appeared on your neck.
Jack bumped your shoulder with his again as he turned to leave, "Come on," His voice back to normal, "GIve me the rundown so we can get you out of here."
~~~~~
When he got home he heard his police scanner going and smirked to himself. You had given him shit about it at first, but now you used it like a white noise machine.
He moved quietly through the house until he found you asleep on the couch in the living room in your comfy clothes. Jack knew that meant you had tried to stay up as late as possible, get your sleep schedule back on track. He leaned his right knee on the couch next to you and braced his hands on either side of you, one against the back of the couch the other on the cushion. Carefully he leaned in and kissed your cheek, "Hey sweetheart." Something in him loved that you didn't flinch, didn't jump awake, only grumbled slightly and then smirked as you awoke.
"Hey." Your voice was raspy with sleep and Jack couldn't help but move to kiss the side of your neck. You hummed and shifted to your back as you cracked your eyes open, "How was your night?"
Lips never leaving your neck he gave a simple answer, "Fine." His kisses moved, higher up towards the hinge of your jaw, "Ready to have my best girl back."
You chuckled, stretched under him and let your head roll to one side to give him more access, "Oh yeah?"
"Mhmm." his kisses became more and more involved, mouthing and sucking at your neck until he left a mark.
Wide awake under his attentions your eyes focused, "Ugh, no fair."
Jack chuckled as he pushed himself up, hovering over you at arms length. "What's not fair?"
Shifting to get comfortable you pouted, unconciously letting your legs fall open for him, as you tugged at the front of his tight, dark t-shirt. "I missed a sexy Dr Abbot night."
He couldn't help the wide smile as he shook his head, still not fully comprehending what it was about wearing cargo pants and a Tshirt instead of scrubs that did it for you. Jack was, however, man enough to admit that you liking it did something for him. "Sexy Dr Abbot night huh?" He shifted his weight, hIs left hand settling on the strip of skin that appeared just above your waistband as your shirt rode up.
You rolled your eyes but smiled, tugged on the shirt again, "Mhmm."
Jack caved, still smiling as he moved to lay down over the top of you, his smile widening as your hands moved under the t-shirt and stroked over his back, "Did you miss your sexy Dr. Abbot?" He teased as he kissed you, slipped his knee between your legs and pressed it against your core as he settled into you.
A little groan escaped between chuckles as your fingers dug into the muscles of his back, on either side of his spine. "Stop it."
"You're the one that said it." Jack chuckled with you as he shifted his weight slightly, drug his right hand the length of your body. From your throat, over a breast where he paused for a moment, palming it through your shirt in time with the way his tongue slid against yours. Then your hips began to move, of their own accord, grinding against his thigh ellictiing a moan, your lips separating from his as you threw your head back.
"Mhmm," Jack murmerd into your exposed throat, "Sure seems like you missed me." He smiled against your pulse as your hands scrambled with the bottom of his shirt. He let you drag it up over his head and then before you could pull him back into a kiss he peeled your bottoms off. Taking his time to toss them aside and then slowly caress his way from the arch of your foot, over the back of your knee and higher. "God you are gorgeous." His grip on you changed, hardened as he moved back over you. "Tell me you missed me baby." He mumbled into your mouth, groaning as he felt your hands move to unbotton his pants.
"You know I did." You smiled, nipped his top lip and watched him as your fingers wrapped around his cock.
"Oh, fuck..." His forehead dropped to yours, eyes closed and breath coming out in warm pants. "Fuck." He repeated as you stroked him, hand firm and confident, from base to tip and back. The muscles in his arms bulged and flexed as he held himself over you, fists clenching and unchlenching against the couch cushion as his cock hardened to your touch. "Baby..."
"What did you say earlier? Something you were going to show me?" You giggled, closed the short distance to brush your lips over his.
Jack smiled, ducked his head to kiss you properly and moved your hand aside so he could shove his pants and boxers down. Just far enough for him to enter you without preamble. Guiding his now achingly hard cock where it belonged. "God you feel too good sweetheart." He breathed the words into your mouth as he bottomed out, lowered the rest of his weight into you. "Too good."
Your whole body trembled underneath him as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck and keep him as close as possible. You dug your fingers into his hair, into the muscles of his shoulders and back, your legs wrapped around his hips as they moved against yours. "Jack..."
"Yeah baby?" Jack asked as he dropped a hand to your thigh, thick fingers digging into your flesh as he held you closer, fucked you just a little harder. "What's wrong?"
You let out a half chuckle half groan, your nails digging into the back of his shoulder blade, "Absolutely nothing." Your chuckle turned into something like a breathy giggle as he rewarded you with a particularly deep thrust. "Just, shit," you writhed under him as he moved the hand at your thigh between your bodies. His thumb working slow, teasing circles over your clit in time with his thrusts. "Just, you don't wanna take your prostthetic off?"
He smirked against your clavicle as he mouthed his way across to the opposite side of your neck. "Don't need to be comfortable right now baby," He picked up his pace, his thrusts and his thumb over your clit, moved harder, faster, "I need to feel you cum for me." Jack wasn't taking it slow after that, and the sounds you were making for him only motivated him to fuck you harder, faster, like he hadn't had you in a month not just a week. "So be a good girl and cum for me," The hand not playing with you slid under the back of your neck, grabbing it from behind, cradling you and applying pressure in a way that had your eyes rolling back and your back arching up off the couch. Lips against your ear, his own breathing ragged, "Need to feel it baby."
"So close, i'm so close, please, shit, Jack, I'm so close." You scrambled, tried everything in your power to drag him into you.
Jack just grinned, "I know, I know." He dropped a kiss against the shell of your ear, "Trust me," His voice was strained but his tone still steady, still soft and clinging to control. "You know I'm gonna take care of you baby, you know." When you nodded enthustically his grin widened, "Take a deep breath." When you didn't respond, he slowed his thrusts down, short and shallow, and when you whined, jack repeated himself, "Breathe. Relax and breathe."
As soon as you shuddered underneath him and took a long, deep breath, eyes slipping closed as you tried to do as he said, Jack whispered, "Good girl." HIs thumb stroked up the line of your carotid once and then settled over it, applied the perfect amount of pressure that made your head swim.
"Oh fuck...." Your mouth hung open and you moaned out his name.
Slowly Jack picked up his pace again, "Another deep breath baby."
You sucked in the air through your nose and moaned because you knew what came next. Because there was a timer running in Jacks head from the moment his thumb pressed down, and once that timer started there was no more teasing or playing, only fucking you as hard and as fast as he could. The whole time murmering every dirty thought that had ever crossed his mind. How you were his good girl, his best girl, all the depraved things he wanted to do to you, how you took his cock so well, and felt so fucking good. How you moaned his name so pretty, how he wanted to fucking ruin you, fill you up and never let you go.
When that timer in his head hit zero, he'd lift his thumb, let the blood rush back to your head and drive his cock into you as hard and as fast as he could, rubbing your clit furiously until you would shatter.
Your nails would dig into his back and you'd gasp for air, and for more. Then he'd snap, his ears would ring with your highpitched whines and his back would ache and he would empty himself inside of you. His hips never stopping until his vision cleared and he could feel the scratch of your fingertips through his hair, the hammering of your heart against his own.
"Jesus Christ," You whispered it, a sexy, satisfied giggle behind it, "I still don't understand how..." You paused for a deep breath and your pussy shuddered around him, "It happens so fast when you do that." You smile as he mouths at the side of your neck.
"Which is why," He tips your face to his so he can kiss you properly before he manhandles you around, swapping places with you so he's on his back and your draped over top of him, "I only do it when I know i'm not going to fucking last." He laughs at himself, drags you down into a vulgar kiss as he reached down to shift your hips and settle you properly. His softening dick still inside you and mess between you.
Jack laid there for a moment and closed his eyes, listened to you breathing slow to match his, a wave of comfort washed over him as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. You settled into his grasp and hummed, a happy little sound in the back of your throat as you curled around him. Both of you half naked and spent on his living room couch. He smiled, kissed the top of your head, nowhere else he'd rather be in in that moment than right there.
~~~~~~~
His fingertips stroked slowly over your back, under your shirt, when you break the post-coital silence. "Can we talk about something?"
Swallowing down the fear rapidly rising in his throat Jack nods and kisses the top of your head, "What's up?"
"My residency is almost over."
He nods, lays the hand flat and wide over the small of your back like his subconcious is trying to keep you where he felt you belonged. "Thought about what you're going to do?"
"That's sort of what I want to talk to you about." You sit up and the both of you make a face at the way your bodies shifted together. You watch as Jack settles a hand on your thigh and you reach for the other. You take his hand in both of yours and started to massage away the stiffness you knew would be there after a long shift. "There's no guarantee I get the open attending spot here, and if I don't… I just… I guess I just want to know what you think I should do."
Jack took a deep breath and studied your face intently, held your gaze. "I'm hesitant to tell you what I think because, I don't think I can be impartial, not really. I want you to make the best decision for yourself and not let me… being selfish… affect your decision."
That made you take a moment, consider as you watched him. Your thumbs still moved in soothing circles over the knuckles and palm of his hand. "I'm not asking you to be impartial. I'm asking you, someone whose opinion matters to me deeply, to discuss a very important decision I might have to make."
It hits him in the gut to hear you say that, because he knows what he wants. He knows he could tell you. He doesn't know with certainty what you want though. "Okay, well, as your attending. You are an incredibly talented and valuable emergency physician and there's plenty of hospitals that would fight to have you. I think we would be idiots to not fight to keep you here, because you are good, you're steady and fast and you're a leader, but also because we have poured a shit ton of time and resources into developing you. It would be irresponsible to let you go, but you could go anywhere you wanted and be extremely successful."
You had to fight back tears at his praise and he must have seen it because Jack stroked his hand over your thigh with a little extra pressure and a tight grin.
"As the man that loves you…because God I fucking love you and I love working with you, but either way that's going to change soon, I want you here with me. Even if that means something other than the Pitt. And… I acknowledge, as much as it sucks, that might not be what's best for you, or even be what you want."
You're chewing on your lip hard, trying to keep your own emotions in check. You love Jack, but he is also your mentor and you value his opinion and he is honestly the only one you could imagine having this conversation with. "I don't want to go anywhere else, I want to stay where I am… I'm just terrified I … What if I put in for the open spot at PTMC and don't get it?"
Jack gives you the most encouraging smile he can without giving himself away and moves to sit up. Taking you with him as he twists around to sit on the couch properly and wrap his arms around you. "Sweetheart that's fine, if you don't work for us you'll go somewhere else. There's six trauma centers in Pittsburgh, there's 52 in the state. Hell there's over 200 level ones in the country and baby you could run any of them. I know you could." He fidgets for a moment and seems to look everywhere but you before he can get locked in. He looks you in the eye, "If you want my opinion you could go anywhere, but I want you here. I just don't want to be the reason you settle for less."
Your breath caught in your throat, "Jack…"
He can't help the thought that he's going to have to talk to his therapist about the look on your face, the weight in his chest as he sits with you on his lap, dick still just a little hard inside you, the mess you made together sticky between you and every fiber of his being is fighting the urge to beg you to stay because he needs you.
"On what planet is being here with you considered less? Don't say that." You kiss him hard, then pull back, "If I apply for the slot… they're going to look sideways at both of us."
"Let 'em. Baby, that's goin' to come down on me not you."
You scoff, "We both know it doesn't work that way. If they want to raise hell about me being in a relationship with my attending that shit could follow me."
Jack hates that that's true, even if it happens in every fucking teaching hospital in the country. "To be fair, I'm tenured and I make enough for both of us. Worse comes to worse. Fuck 'em."
"Not helpful." You smack him on the chest, but chuckle despite the tension.
He shrugs, "There's ways to go about it, so maybe we haven't made it obvious, but not like we've been keeping it a state secret either, and it's not some abuse of power, hasn't affected either of our performance. I'm still going to be with you when you're an attending, or hell, when you're the chief for that matter. If i'm still around that long. Honestly… if you want to be shady about it between me and Shen, Robby is the chief, I'm willing to bet we can rig it in your favor."
"Also not helpful!" You kiss him though, "I do find it oddly attractive that you're so willing to bend the rules though."
"I know you do." He kissed you back. "Promise to play by the rules for a change."
You smile, "So, what If I told you I wanted to stay here after my residency? What if I want the attending spot at the Pitt and to stay with you?"
Jack shook his head, squeezed you tighter, "Don't ask me baby, tell me. Is that what you want?"
"I want you. If I can have you and the Pitt, perfect. If not, I'd work anywhere if it means we are together." You kiss him again, trying to get your point across, "That doesn't feel like settling to me Jack. Not even close."
How he felt in that moment was something he couldn't name, because no matter how ecstatic it makes him to hear you say you want him a piece of him is drowning in the guilt that you could be giving up something so much better.
You run your hands over his bare chest, his shoulders and then slide them up the side of his neck to hold him in place. "Is that… Is that okay?"
Like so many times before Jack shoves that doubt aside and figures, fuck it. He thinks about that first fleeting kiss on the roof, the one in his truck, all the rides home, the coffee and conversations, the morning you had asked him to come upstairs. All the times you were the one that took that leap of faith, because he couldn't. He'd been trying not to jump for years.
He kissed you, long and slow as he thinks and then whispers against your lips. "Sweetheart," He kisses you again, "Do me a favor and go grab my bag?"
You look confused, rightfully so, but smirk and duck your head to nip at the meat of one of his pecs. "You know, I'm not supposed to be able to walk after you fuck me like that."
Jack groans and feels fucking ancient, but can't help the need to swat you on the ass and give you a little push, "Love to watch you try though."
Because, yeah, you are still a little unsteady and you both trembled as you had raised up and his semi hard dick had slipped out of you. He watched you walk out of the living room and tucked himself back into his boxers before he did up the fly of his pants. The conversation you were about to have was one he couldn't have with his dick inside you, no matter how good it felt.
When you came back his eyes drank you in, shirt askew and hair a mess, a sheen between your legs that made the blood in his veins rush south again.
"Here you go." You hold out the camo backpack as you round the end of the couch.
"Need you to grab something for me, out of the liner pocket on the inside." He smirked at the way you arch your brow at him, but still come back to sit on his lap. He holds his breath as you set the bag on the couch next to you and pulled at the zipper. Jack had to try not to stare at the patch velcroed to the front. Abbot. He lets his hands settle on your thighs while he waits, thumb stroking over your femoral artery.
"What exactly am I…"
"You'll know." He cuts you off.
You stop.
He feels your heart rate skyrocket under his thumb, every muscle in your body goes rigid and he watches as your eyes blink rapidly like you're trying to clear your vision. "That's what I want sweetheart."
Your eyes are the only part of you that moves. They jump from what you found in the pocket, to his face and back. "How long have you had this?" Because what you're holding, it's not something bought on a whim.
Jack can't help but laugh at himself, "Awhile." Is all he'll tell you right now. He fights for your eye contact, but for one of the only times he can remember, it's like you can't quite hold it. Your eyes keep flicking to him and away again.
"Why?"
"Just in case."
You look at him then, really look at him, and don't look away. Give him that eye contact he craves and he sucks in air like he can breath again, head above water for just a moment. You smirk at hearing him repeat your own words back to you from so long ago. Your voice shakes, "Just in case what?"
He smirks right back at you as he moves the backpack out of the way with one hand and then holds it out, palm up. You carefully put what you had found in his hand, unopened, because the simple presence of the small, shiny, sleek, perfectly square, black box had told you everything you needed to know. Jack makes sure to brush your fingers with his as he takes the box from you and pops it open. "Just in case you ever decided to go back to dayshift, thought I might have to bribe you."
You choke out a laugh and Jack smiles, but his throat is dry and the way you look like you're about to cry really isn't helping.
He repeats himself as he pulls out the ring, rolls it carefully between his thumb and forefiner, "This is what I want sweetheart. Then he chokes out a laugh of his own, "I don't give a shit where you work baby, wherever you want. Only thing I give a fuck about is that they call you Dr. Abbot." He cracks a smile when you laugh with him and he can feel you relax, your weight sinking into him as you lean in to kiss him. Clumsy and sloppy and with a smile.
"You're fucking ego sometimes."
"You can hyphenate if you want."
"Oh, I can, can I? So generous."
Every word between you is murmured between kisses. He diesn't have to hear you say it, he knows the answer.
He doesn't have to tell you he's had the ring your entire fourth year of residency. Just waiting for you to say you wanted to stay.
You're really shaking when he slips the ring on your finger and of course it fits perfectly and of course it's exactly what you would have picked, because it's Jack. Becasuse this has never been casual for either of you, not for one single moment.
You pull back from kissing him with a laugh and an evil grin, "You suppose I'd be more or less likely to get the attending position with your last name?"
Jack laughs with you and drags your hips closer, because as soon as this conversation is finished he's taking you to bed and doing terrible, filthy things to you the rest of the weekend. "Look me in the eye and tell me this is really what you want baby."
He can feel the metal of the ring on your finger as your hand presses against his jaw, "This is what I want Jack. This is exactly what I want."
Your noses bump together as he kisses you and nods, "Have something else I need to tell you then." He kissed you again, before you can panic. "You don't need to apply for the attending position."
You put some distance between you and for the first time in a long time Jack has to gently stop you, guide you away from putting too much pressure on his right knee at this angle. You murmur a little, "Sorry." as you scoot closer. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Arms locked tight around you Jack keeps a straight face, tells you something he's wanted to tell you since you started this conversation. "It's not going to come down to whether you get the job or not. Robby already tagged you for it."
You blink, "What?"
Jack rubbed his hands over your thighs, putting in the pressure and the warmth to keep you grounded, "It's going to come down to whether you want the job or not, because they're going to offer it to you once you complete your residency."
"You're fucking with me right now."
He chuckles, "I am not fucking with you right now. It's like I told you; we'd be stupid to let you go anywhere else."
"What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" He's almost laughing outright now, "They asked us for our recommendations, every single one of us said you. Obviously I'm not supposed to tell you, but…"
"So you were just letting me stress out about all of this!? About the fact that I might lose you, because I wasn't going to get the job, that I was going to have to leave and, and move to the opposite side of the country or something!"
"I was trying to stay out if it. In case being here isn't what you wanted." He left the 'if I wasn't what you wanted' out of it.
"Jack!, I mean Jesus, c'mon! We've been together for almost two fucking years. How would you even begin to think this isn't what I wanted!?" You're yelling at him, but you're laughing and crying and have a death grip on the back of his neck.
Jack takes a deep breath and deescalates. "My therapist says I plan for the worst case scenario as a coping mechanism, as a way to try and protect myself from the pain of unforseen loss."
Taking his lead you take a deep breath, lower your tone. "Yeah, he also says it's one thing to be prepared for emergencies and another to try and plan for the worst possible outcome to a conversation, that you haven't even initated, therefore running the risk of 'planning' that worst case outcome into existence." You scowl at him.
Sometimes he hates that you're so in tune, so invested and involved in his mental health, because it's annoying to hear his therapist come out of your mouth. He smirks though, because he also loves it a little and can't imagine anyone else holding him accountable the way you do.
"Since you brought your therapist into it, have you told him you've been carrying around my engagement ring in your backpack next to a three day supply of MREs?"
He doesn't answer you because you know he hasn't, you're just making a point. Jack smirks and smooths his hands up your back, "Sure you wanna marry me?" His chest hurts at the way you light up as he watches your eyes flick back to the ring he slipped on your finger.
"Very sure." You looked him in the eye like you were daring him to doubt you and gave him that little smirk. The one that had started this all, where it tipped up to one side like you were trying not to show him something.
Jack waited for you to lean in and kiss him, waited for your fingers to comb into his curls and your tongue to chase after his, and then he grabbed you tight and pushed to his feet. Chuckling at the way you still squeaked and giggled, no matter how many times he's carried you to bed that way. Or to the couch, the shower, the nearest wall or flat surface.
Later, when you're both exhausted and the blackout curtains are keeping the afternoon sun at bay, you're laying beside him with your head on his shoulder, one leg draped over his and your left hand on his chest. Neither of you can stop staring at the faint glint that is the ring in the dim light of the room.
"Are you sure?"
Jack chuckles, presses a kiss to the top of your head and murmers, "How many times you going to ask me that?"
You bite your lip and turn your face into his neck, "Just making sure."
He closes his eyes when he feels you trace his collar bone with your lips and he moves to cradle the back of her head, holding you close. Jack thinks again about those first two kisses, about the way you had explained yourself. 'Just in case.' He tips your head back so he can kiss you, deep and with emotion he still can't quite process out loud. "I'm sure sweetheart." He kissed you again.
There was something extremely appropriate about the phrase, 'just in case.' he thought and for the rest of his life, every time he kissed you, touched you, told you he loved you, in the back of his mind he'd think. 'Just in case.' Because he knew better than anyone, there was no way to know what time would be the last.
"Hey," Your voice was soft, half asleep when your hand rested against his jaw to pull him out of his thoughts, "I love you." You said it like you knew where his thoughts had gone.
Jack kissed you, holding you close like he'd never let you go. "Love you too."
~~~ The End~~~
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teamred · 10 months ago
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any other way
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✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x reader | fluff | 1.8k
SUMMARY | in which your good friend, wade, ditches your planned movie night, but his roommate offers to watch one with you instead. however, logan ends up falling asleep on your shoulder.
WARNINGS | drinking, kissing, swearing, gets a little steamy/handsy
RATING | teen+
NOTES | it's funny... i've been a big x-men fan for a while, but i never really fell for logan until d&w. if this pops off, maybe i'll write more for him!!!
///
“Wade, hurry up and let me in! A girl can only hold freshly popped popcorn for so—oh.” 
Instead of your dear, annoying friend, it’s his gorgeous, rugged roommate who answers the apartment door instead. Your eyes sweep over him, taking a liking to how his brown plaid button-up drapes over his white tank top. His clothing choices compliment his sturdy frame and strong pecs. His facial hair is perfectly groomed and—  
And it doesn’t help that you have just the teeniest, tiniest crush on him. 
“Logan, hey!” you exclaim, a little too enthusiastically. “I didn’t know you were going to be here for movie night too.” 
“Wade’s not here, bub,” Logan says, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms and a sympathetic half-smile.
“What?! That little shit said he’d be free tonight…”  You sigh, shaking your head. “Well, it’s all good. I’ll just—” 
“Did you want to watch a movie with me instead?” Logan offers. You think you hear a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “Since you came out all this way?” 
Your eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’m sure you’re—”
“Darlin’,” he interrupts with a soft chuckle. Your heart stumbles at the sound. “I have never been more free on a Saturday night. You’re welcome to join me, but only if you’re comfortable with it.” 
Now your heart is melting over his kindness. You smile warmly. “I always feel comfortable around you, Logan.” 
He returns the smile and gestures for you to come in, offering to take the popcorn and if you want anything as you remove your shoes.
“I got it, but thank you. A beer would be good,” you reply, settling in on one end of the couch in the living room. You glance around curiously. “Is Blind Al not home either?” 
“Yeah,” Logan calls from the nearby kitchen, bending towards the open fridge to grab the drinks. “She’s getting, in her own words, ‘turned up’ at the casino tonight.”
You snicker as you browse through streaming services to pick a movie for tonight. Logan returns with a beer in each hand and you’re surprised when he takes the middle seat next to you. You catch a whiff of his scent and it is intoxicating–a blend of woody notes, perhaps leather and pine. 
“So what’s the movie for tonight?” Logan asks, taking a sip from his bottle. 
“Well, be honest with me here: Wade promised that we could watch this new movie that just released a few days ago, but it’s a romantic movie, so—” 
“Of course,” he cuts in with a roll of his eyes, tossing a kernel into his mouth. “That’s his favourite genre.” 
You deflate a little. “Okay, with that tone, I’m assuming I will have to change the movie choice.” 
“No! Don’t change it because of me,” Logan quickly interjects. “We can watch whatever you want. I’m genuinely content to just sit here and do something other than watching reruns I’ve seen a million times before.” 
You study him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Are you sure?” 
“I’m sure,” he reassures you, nodding and flashing another smile. You will yourself to calm your racing heart and focus on finding the movie. Once you select it, you press play and relax into the couch cushions. 
Out of nowhere, Logan places his arm around you, his hand slightly hovering above your shoulders. You stiffen at the unexpected move, unsure why he’s doing it. But then he quickly pulls back, shuffling a bit away from you.
“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, clearly embarrassed. “It’s out of habit when I watch stuff.”
“You can leave your arm there,” you blurt out. You don’t even register the words coming out of your mouth. Where was this boldness coming from? 
He quirks an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah?” 
“Mm-hmm,” you nod fervently, rushing to grab your beer to steady your nerves. Taking a long sip, you try to force your body to relax again. 
The first few minutes of the movie starts quite slow, but your eyes are glued to the screen to ensure you don’t miss the exposition. Just as you reach for the popcorn, so does Logan, and the back of your hands brush against each other. 
“Sorry,” you both mumble, glancing at each other in awkwardness and something hanging in the air. He juts his chin out with a subtle smirk, gesturing you to go first. You grab a handful, and as he follows suit, his fingers graze against yours, causing you to shiver. 
The air in the room is electric, and you wonder if the tension is just in your head or if Logan feels it too. The movie continues, but your thoughts are consumed by the warmth of his body so close to yours and the possibility of what might happen next. 
Later into the movie, you freeze as you feel Logan leaning in closer. You turn your head, ready for what might happen–
But then, he goes completely lax, slouching into your shoulder and resting his head in a comfortable position. 
“I should’ve chosen a different movie…” you think, shaking your head. 
It’s hard to focus on the movie with this gorgeous being asleep on your shoulder (and the movie doesn’t seem to be that great anyway). Towards the end of the movie, your attention drifts completely and you indulge in how Logan sleeps. His soft snoring. The gentle squeezes he gives your shoulder as he dreams. The steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out. 
Suddenly, Logan stirs and lifts his head, almost snorting up air cutely. He blinks groggily. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, gorgeous. Did I sleep through the movie?” 
You hesitate, hung up on the fact that he called you gorgeous. Your cheeks prickle as you search for the right words to say.
“Yeah, you did,” you whisper with a small smile. “But it’s fine. It wasn’t that great anyway.” 
“Mm, figures,” he mumbles. “Did you wanna watch another movie or—” 
As he straightens up, you instinctively lean towards him, closing the gap between you two. Your noses practically touch.
“Or did you wanna do…” Logan’s voice is low and gravelly. You hold your breath and hold his gaze. “...something else?” 
You barely nod, and he drags you into a searing kiss. His hands cup your cheek and neck with urgency. Soon enough, his tongue dips into your mouth, sending a jolt to your core. 
Logan cradles your body and carefully positions you lower onto the couch. The weight of his body pressed up against you sends you into overdrive. His hands dive underneath your shirt, exploring your soft skin. The pressure of his body against yours leaves you breathless. Not only the pressure of his body, but also his—
“Winner winner, chicken dinner!” 
Wade’s booming voice cuts through the front door like a tornado, forcing both of you to scramble away faster than opposing magnets. However, it’s too late; Wade has witnessed everything. 
“Oh, my God, Blind Al, my plan worked! It fucking worked!” Wade squeals, jumping up and down. 
“Oh, no. Are they butt-ass naked on the couch? Times like these, I’m grateful to be blind.” 
“No, they’re thankfully fully clothed. But they were just dry humping the shit out of each other though.” 
“You ditched movie night on purpose, you asshole!” you screech. 
“Hey, you should be thanking me,” Wade retorts with a wink. “You and Wolvie always have had palpable sexual tension every time you were in a room together. Hell, even Laura agreed it’d be a good idea to set you two up.” 
Logan and you exchange a sheepish smile, acknowledging the truth in Wade's words. 
“Blind Al and I will just be basking in our casino winnings with a few drinks and then we’ll be out of your hair in a few. And then you two can carry on and fuck each other freely on the couch.” 
“But keep it down, please,” Blind Al adds with a hint of desperation.
“I probably should get going now,” you chime in, eager to avoid the awkwardness. Logan quickly follows behind, walking you to the front door. 
“I’m sorry about all this,” he says in sincerity.
You wave him off. “You never have to apologize for them. They’re like family; I’m used to them.” 
“I didn’t know where the night was heading, but—” He turns around to check over his shoulder, lowering his voice and leaning in slightly. “—I’m glad Wade set us up.” 
“Heard that!” Wade calls out from inside the apartment. 
“Damn it,” Logan mutters, making you giggle. “Anyways, would you let me take you out on a proper date tomorrow night?” 
You beam as you reply, “I’d love that.” 
“Great, I’ll call you later.” 
Logan steps outside of the apartment and closes the door behind him, pulling you in by your waist for another kiss. Innocent at first, but then he presses you up against the wall and his hands grips at your waist, extracting a few moans from you.
“Either get back inside or just go home with her rather than wall-fucking her outside of the apartment!” Wade’s muffled voice echoes through the thin walls. 
Logan retreats slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. He keeps his voice low. “And not trying to put pressure on our date tomorrow, but if—”
“If things get heated, let’s go back to my place,” you finish his thought with a soft promise. 
His eyes light up with a relieved smile. “You read my mind. Thank you.” 
You smile into one last kiss, the world fading away as you savor the sensation of Logan’s mouth on yours.
Until Wade pops his head out through the door like a whack-a-mole you’re dying to hit. “Okay, seriously. I will offer you my bedroom, if you’re really that horny, you guys.” He calls out your name. “Also, did you know he can smell how horny you are?” 
“I—what?” you stammer, blinking in confusion.
“Wade, shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps with gritted teeth. He faces you again with a gentle smile. “Have a good night, gorgeous. I’ll call you as soon as you get back home.” 
Logan’s a man of his word, almost calling immediately as you stepped foot in your apartment (with Wade providing unnecessary commentary in the background, as always). 
Later, as you get ready for bed, you can’t help but admit how grateful you were for Wade’s set-up. If it wasn’t for him, neither of you would’ve made a move; it would’ve progressed at a glacial pace. 
Lying in bed and looking up at your bedroom ceiling, you think to yourself how tonight truly was perfect, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Smiling, you drift off to sleep, dreaming of what tomorrow’s date might bring. 
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ENDING NOTES | thank you so much for reading and giving some love! part two can be read here!
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fushitoru · 4 months ago
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chapter 10: the art gallery a bridgerton au
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pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary ⸺dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
genre/warnings ⸺ enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, suggestive, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly, all they do is bicker 💀, some historical inaccuracies, mentions of sex work
chapter summary ⸺ duke nanami suprises you with an inquiry, and the panic caused by it leads to an encounter with a very unexpected person (4.7k)
a/n she's a short one but i swear sm happened that im kind of surprised it was so short? mostly beta read (thank u to them as always), and i'll see u down below ~~~~
prev. the embers | next. soon!
general masterlist | series masterlist
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Gentle Reader,
It seems that the next excursion polite society will be undertaking is at the art gallery, here in London itself. Filled with beautiful and evoking pieces, will it evoke affections and fuel potential matches? After all, it seems that the venue contains many hidden alcoves and hallways for potential confessions and intimate colloquies—so intimate that they are proposals.
One of these proposals this Author cannot help but speculate upon—that of Miss Itadori and Duke Nanami’s. After all, at every ball the fine lady and gentleman seem to be engaged in personal and amiable conversation; it appears clear to everyone in their surroundings that our season’s diamond has captured His Grace’s affections. But, dear reader, is this to amount to a future with wedding bells and blushing babes? Only time will tell; for now, your Author has no promises. After all, it seems that this season is sure to contain many surprises at every turn.
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
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The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your bedroom. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, likely from the sachet Nobara had insisted on tucking into your dresser to “keep you from smelling like an old book.” She stood behind you now, deft hands working through your hair with practiced ease, twisting locks into an elegant style fit for the day’s engagements.
“I came across something interesting in my brother’s study last night,” Nobara said conversationally, sliding a pin into place. “A rather compelling critique on the landowning gentry—Reflections on the Inequity of Titles—have you read it?”
Your attention perked at the mention of the text. “Yes,” you said, your brows knitting as you searched your memory. “It argues against inherited privilege and the consolidation of power within a select few, does it not? I recall making notes on it.”
As you spoke, you shifted slightly in your seat, the urge to review your thoughts overtaking you. Almost without thinking, your hand reached toward the hidden compartment in the floorboards—a small, carefully loosened plank where you kept your private writings. Your commonplace diary contained notes on radical philosophies you could never openly share, and even—if you were to be honest with yourself—a few stray reflections on Gojo (before it all went askew) that you had not yet had the courage to confront.
While you rummaged through the possible planks to find the hollow one, Nobara remarked, “There have been whispers of you among the maids, as well.”
You paused, turning to look at her fully as she twiddled with the ends of your comb. “Well, what do they say?”
She paused for a brief moment, as if weighing the effect her words could have on you. However, your closest companion was not one to mince words—especially if they would end up as beneficial for you, no matter how harsh. “That you’ve recovered from Lord Gojo quite well, and that you as a duchess is on the horizon—not as Mrs. Gojo, but Mrs. Nanami.”
Oh. This was not the least bit surprising—even your mama had heard these rumors. Part of you was concerned as to how your mother had gotten ahold of these whispers, given that Sukuna had long forbade her to attend balls with you after her last…episode, but it seemed that your mama had jaundiced channels of retrieving information herself. That, or the Whistledown had reported on it, which you would be ignorant to, for you did not care for gossip lately.
You wave a hand, and soon find the hollow space in your floorboards. “Those rumors may be all just hearsay soon enough, I suppose.” Then, you pull the floorboard where your diary is supposed to reside. “After all, Christ knows my luck with the creatures called men—”
Your fingers brushed against empty space.
Your breath caught.
The floorboard was there. The hollow beneath it remained. But your diary—your most guarded possession—was gone.
A sharp jolt of panic shot through you. You froze, your heartbeat thundering in your ears as your stomach twisted. No, no—perhaps you had misplaced it? You tried to recall, but the memory eluded you, replaced by a rising dread that gripped your chest in an iron vice.
The last you remember of it was packing it so that you could take it to the Gojo manor. Did you use it there? You did. If you recall correctly, you had done so in Nobara’s company, where you were secretly observing Gojo’s show of archery to Yuji on the balcony. After that, it was all a blur.
“Everything alright?” Nobara asked, tugging your hair slightly as she adjusted the style.
You barely heard her, your hands still hovering near the empty space as if willing the book to reappear. You wracked your brain carefully, trying to will in a memory where you had, in fact, succeeded to retrieve it from the Gojo countryside residence. A moment where you had packed it or a recollection of picking it up from the balcony—
Just as your thoughts began to spiral, the door burst open.
“Oi Sister, are you ready yet?” Yuji’s voice rang through the room, cutting through your panic. He leaned against the doorway with a lazy grin, arms crossed over his chest. “You do know we have to pay a visit to the art gallery today, correct?”
You barely had time to compose yourself, forcing a steady breath as you pulled your hand away from the floor. Nobara swatted at Yuji with a hairbrush, scolding him for his lack of manners, but you could hardly focus on their banter.
Your diary was missing.
And someone had taken it.
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The art gallery was abuzz with the murmurs of the ton, the usual symphony of rustling silk, polite laughter, and the occasional overzealous exclamation from an admirer who fancied themselves an aesthete. Candles flickered in their sconces, casting a warm, golden light over the oil paintings that lined the walls—portraits of long-dead nobility, pastoral scenes meant to evoke longing for a simpler time, and a few ambitious attempts at allegory that left much to be desired.
As you walked hand in hand with Nanami, the weight of his palm in yours both familiar and grounding, your mind wandered elsewhere—back to the morning, to the jolt of panic that had seized you when you realized your diary was missing.
It had been a frantic affair. Nobara had barely twisted the last pin into your hair when you had rushed to the hidden space beneath the floorboards, expecting to feel the familiar worn leather beneath your fingertips. But it was gone. The shock of it had knocked the breath from your lungs, sent your thoughts scattering into a storm of fragmented memories—where had you last seen it? Had you truly packed it? No, you had taken it with you to the Gojo estate, that much you knew. But had you brought it back? The certainty evaded you, slipping through your grasp like water.
Before you could dwell further, Yuji had appeared in the doorway, cheerfully oblivious to your distress as he urged you to hurry. 
Choso had been more perceptive, his dark eyes lingering on your face as the four of you were ushered into the carriage. "Something wrong?" he had asked, quiet and measured.
You had shaken your head. What were you to say? That your diary—your most personal possession, filled with your thoughts, your observations, your private musings—had vanished into thin air? That the last place you remembered having it was the very home of the man who vexed you most? The thought alone had made your stomach twist. So instead, you had murmured some excuse about being distracted, about having not yet woken fully, and let the conversation drift elsewhere as the carriage rattled down the cobbled streets toward the gallery.
Now, standing in the midst of polite society, surrounded by paintings and candlelight and the low hum of cultured voices, the unease still clung to you.
"It is a fine collection," Nanami remarked beside you, his gaze sweeping over a landscape of rolling hills. "Though I must say, the artist’s depiction of light is rather conventional. There is no true feeling to it, only a replication of what is expected."
You nodded, your agreement automatic. "Indeed. It lacks a certain… depth. The brushwork is delicate, but there is no challenge in it, no provocation of thought."
Nanami hummed in approval. "Precisely."
The conversation continued in this fashion—pleasant, agreeable, effortless. But with each passing moment, a strange disquiet settled over you. Your mind drifted, not toward the paintings, nor to the man at your side, but to something far removed from this genteel setting.
The diary.
You had searched again this morning before leaving, hands trembling as you sifted through your belongings, the panic curling in your stomach like a tightening noose. Yet it was not there. No matter how many times you retraced your steps, no matter how much you willed the memory to sharpen, the last certain recollection you had was of the Gojo estate—of the evening spent watching Satoru’s archery from the balcony, of penning your thoughts in the quiet company of Nobara. And after that? Nothing.
Had you left it behind? Had someone found it?
A fresh wave of unease coursed through you. If it had been discovered, if its contents had been read—
"Are you feeling unwell?"
Nanami’s voice pulled you back to the present. You turned to him, startled, and realized belatedly that you had grown silent. His brow was slightly furrowed, his concern subtle yet unmistakable.
"I—no," you hastily assured him, forcing a small smile. "Merely lost in thought, Your Grace."
His gaze lingered, as if gauging the truth of your words, before he continued, seemingly appeased. "I was saying," he began, as the two of you came to a stop before a grand painting of a woman reading by candlelight, "that I should like to spend my life in such quiet appreciation of art and literature. With a loving wife, of course, who shares the same sensibilities."
The words were spoken casually, but the weight of them struck you like a blow. You stiffened, the meaning settling into place a second too late.
“It is time the Nanami dukedom get its duchess,” he continues, seeming to pay no mind to how you’ve frozen like a deer hunted. He turns to you, looking to you with a twinkle in his eyes, one you could not read. “And I seem to have found a very…capable option.”
“I see,” you force out, swallowing nervously. 
“Indeed.” For a beat too long, Duke Nanami looks at you, but then says, “And I would suppose I’ve done my utmost to show what a dutiful, respectful husband I can be—after all, it is freedom that makes one prosper, not a gilded cage. 
"Furthermore, I have my fancy on someone who fits this description," he continued, his tone carefully measured. "But I am unsure if she would accept my proposal." He glanced at you then, his gaze steady. "Do you think she would?"
The air seemed to thin around you.
It would take a fool to miss what His Grace was implying—hand in hand, after you’ve both been courting each other for a week or so now, it is quite clear he’s using this to test the waters. To gauge your reaction.
The air in the gallery suddenly felt too thick, too heavy, pressing in from all sides. You had been aware, on some distant level, of Nanami’s affections. He had always been steady, always constant, always present. But to hear it spoken so plainly, so deliberately—it sent a sharp, startling panic through you.
Your thoughts scrambled, grasping for something—anything—to say. Did you want this? He was everything a woman could ask for in a husband. Kind. Thoughtful. Intelligent. A man of great integrity. There was nothing about him that should make you hesitate.
And yet, you were hesitating.
"I think…" Your voice was too thin, too unsteady. "I think she would have to ponder upon it. For marriage is no small covenant."
It was a poor deflection, and you knew it the moment the words left your lips. Nanami’s expression remained composed, but there was something in the silence that followed—something in the way his gaze lingered on you, as if seeing past your carefully chosen words.
You needed to leave.
"Would you excuse me for a moment?" you blurted out, taking a half-step back. "I—I believe I should like to get some air."
Nanami studied you for a fraction too long before inclining his head. "Of course."
You curtsied hastily, turning away before he could say anything else. The moment you stepped away from him, your breath came out in a shallow, uneven exhale. Marble walls, floors, and ornately framed pieces of art blurred together, dresses and suits melding together in the edges of your vision. 
You didn’t know why this reaction had seized you so violently, only that it had. And you had no answer for it. You stumbled your way, heart pounding as you sought a respite—then, pinpointing an empty hallway. 
As you made your way to the target space, you heard other voices calling out to you—some of them might even be your brothers’. However, you were in no headspace to offer coherence responses, not over the beating of your heart. 
When you finally arrived, you were relieved to find that the hallway was blissfully quiet. Away from the bustling crowd and the low hum of conversation, you finally allowed yourself to exhale, pressing a cool hand to your neck as if that alone could soothe the rapid beat of your pulse.
Nanami’s words still lingered in your mind, coiling around your thoughts like a vice. Do you think she will accept?
Your breath had caught before you could form a proper response. You should have expected it—Nanami was nothing if not deliberate, never speaking without intent—but somehow, the weight of it still unsettled you. It had been a question and yet not a question at all.
A proposal loomed on the horizon.
You turned, gaze sweeping the dimly lit corridor until it landed on a single painting near the end of the hall.
Unlike the grand, gilded masterpieces displayed in the main gallery, this one had been tucked away from the grandeur. It lacked the polish of a commissioned work, the smooth elegance of a court-approved artist. And yet, something about it pulled you in.
Your fingers skimmed over the folds of your gown as you steadied yourself, gaze flicking upward to the painting before you. It was unlike the others in the exhibition—less grand in scale, less ostentatious in its display of wealth or pedigree. There were no poised noblewomen adorned in lace, no battlefields drenched in glory, no sweeping landscapes inviting idle admiration. Instead, it was a quiet tableau: a man standing beneath a twilight sky, arm outstretched toward a woman who stood just beyond his reach. Her posture was composed, her hands clasped before her, the tilt of her chin ever so slightly downward. She was not running, not spurning him—but she was not reaching back either.
Your brow furrowed as you studied it further. It was not a painting that offered easy interpretation. Was it longing? Was it duty? Was it loss? The artist had chosen to render their expressions in subtlety, eschewing exaggerated pathos for something far more ambiguous. The man was reaching—but did he truly expect to grasp her hand? The woman was still—but did she wish to be? The tension between them sat heavy in the air, much like the one that had lingered in your own chest ever since—
Before you could ponder upon the painting for long, however, you heard footsteps. Approaching in the hallway, they echoed softly in quiet chamber—after all, it was only you and the person who was approaching, seeming to need a reprieve of their own as well in the hidden alcove. 
But you didn’t need to see the person to know who he was.
Soft, unhurried, yet a bit shaken. By now, you had grown familiar with the rhythm of his gait—the lazy confidence in his stride, the way his heels struck the floor just a bit too deliberately, as if he never truly moved without purpose, even when he pretended otherwise. Right now, they were a little bit too arrhythmical to truly match the attitude you were far too familiar with at the beginning of the season.
A prickle of awareness traced along your spine, your pulse betraying you with its quickened tempo. But you kept your eyes fixed forward, feigning complete absorption in the painting before you. It was not as if you were eager for company—not after the morning’s ordeal, not after Nanami’s near-proposal, not when your mind was already tangled enough without the added complication of Gojo Satoru.
Yet he did not call your name, nor did he demand your attention. He merely came to stand beside you, hands clasped lazily behind his back, exhaling softly as he, too, observed the artwork.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then, with the same easy lilt he always carried, Gojo remarked, “This is quite the departure from the usual fare.”
You nodded, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your gloves. “Indeed.”
Silence stretched between you once more. He did not press you for further conversation, and for that, you were strangely grateful. It was unlike him, really—so rarely was he subdued, so rarely did he refrain from prodding and teasing and making his presence unbearably known. But here, in this dim-lit corridor, he was simply… standing beside you.
A quiet hum. The faintest shift of weight. You could feel him looking at you now, though you refused to meet his gaze, instead fixing your gaze on the painting, the frame, anything almost desperately to calm your racing heart before you could have an over-the-top ebullition once more, embarrassing yourself in front of him for the nth time this season. 
A brief silence settled, and then—
“Are you enjoying the gallery?”
The question was polite, normal, and unremarkable. You latched onto it like a lifeline.
“It’s a fine collection,” you replied, keeping your voice carefully measured. “Some works are predictable, but others are…” You gestured vaguely toward the piece in front of you. “Surprising.”
Gojo hummed in agreement, stepping closer—not intrusively, but just enough that you could catch the scent of tobacco leaves and something subtly sweet. “That’s one way to put it. Though I have to say, you look like you’re concentrating awfully hard.”
You blinked, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the painting. “It’s a rather curious piece.”
“That it is,” he agreed, hands tucked behind his back as he regarded it. “But, like I said, a bit dreary. The colors are not vibrant, and there is much to be desired in regards to their harmony.”
You almost smiled at that. “Not everything has to be grand and gilded to have meaning.”
“A fair point.”
Another pause.
“You came with your brothers, didn’t you?” he asked.
“I did,” you said, grateful for the change in topic. “They were speaking with some friends when I last saw them. And you?”
“Oh, you know how it is.” He waved a hand. “Came with Geto, ended up being dragged into conversation with half the room.”
You nodded, the corners of your lips tugging upward just slightly. “A best friend’s love, perhaps.”
“Perhaps.”
A comfortable silence fell over the both of you. At the opportunity given to you—of not having to fill the silence courteously with further small talk—you instead set aim on settling your heart. Pressing a hand to your bosom, you took in deep breaths until your frantic pulse became more regular. 
Finally, he spoke again. “It is rather unusual, though.”
You inhaled slowly. “How so?”
He tilted his head, considering. “Most paintings of this sort would either commit fully to tragedy or leave some feeble hope within the composition. But this—” He gestured lightly. “There is no resolution. No grand confession, no dramatic refusal. It simply is.”
You found yourself exhaling, your posture easing ever so slightly. “That is precisely what intrigues me.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “So we agree.”
You huffed softly. “A rare occurrence, indeed.”
Gojo chuckled at that, shifting his weight as he observed the painting anew. “Still,” he mused, “I do think the artist intends for us to sympathize with the man. See how he reaches? How he refuses to yield to their distance? A weaker man might call it tragic.”
Your brow arched slightly, turning your gaze toward him. “And what would a stronger man call it?”
Gojo hummed. “Hopeful.”
You studied him for a moment. Then, returning your attention to the painting, you shook your head. “I disagree.”
“Of course you do.”
“The woman is not simply distant—she is removed,” you continued, ignoring the teasing—softer than the one you recognize—edge to his voice. “She does not reach back, not because she is afraid or reluctant, but because she cannot. She is bound by something greater than yearning.”
Gojo exhaled sharply through his nose, his expression flickering with amusement. “You think it is duty, then?”
“What else could it be?”
His gaze lingered on the canvas, his smile fading just slightly. “Perhaps love.”
Something in your chest stilled.
Gojo let the words settle, slow and deliberate, before finally turning to face you fully. The candlelight cast his features in soft relief, catching on the silver embroidery of his waistcoat, the pale strands of his hair, the unmistakable glint in his eyes. “I find it rather grim—albeit in a different direction than of yours,” he remarked. “Rather than fear of what she cannot, it is better that love and duty do not coexist, for their amalgam can prove troublesome.”
You parted your lips, but hesitation stilled your tongue. Not because you lacked an answer, but because—for all your certainty earlier—you were no longer so sure.
A moment passed.
Finally, you exhaled, your posture softening by a fraction. “Perhaps,” you said, voice even, “we are simply of different minds.”
Gojo studied you for a beat longer before a slow, knowing smile curled at the corner of his lips. He inclined his head ever so slightly. “As we so often are.”
It was not a challenge. Not a victory.
Merely an understanding.
As you stood there, the conversation settling between you, you found yourself thinking—not just of the painting, not just of duty and love, but of him. Of what he had done for you. Of how, despite everything—despite his arrogance, his sharp tongue, the way he had needled and provoked you, the way he had wounded your pride in ways no one else ever had—he had still stood by you when it truly mattered. When the moment arrived, when the weight of the world bore down on you, he had not hesitated. He had not faltered.
It was no small thing.
Perhaps he was not someone you could court, not someone who fit the shape of the life you had imagined for yourself. Perhaps he was not someone you could love—not in the way you had once thought love should be. But he did not need to be an enemy.
Not anymore.
There were worse things in this world than an unbearable, impossible man who, despite it all, had proven himself in the ways that truly counted.
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When Satoru had wandered into the hidden hallway to escape Suguru’s notorious actions, he had not expected to find you. But it seems that the day was full of surprises, for he hadn’t expected your sentiments and posture about him to have changed.
Gojo had expected a sharp tongue, a ready rebuttal, the usual resistance you always met him with. Instead, you spoke with a peculiar softness tonight, your responses thoughtful, your gaze lingering not on him, but on the painting before you. He had not expected you to be so—what was the word?—empathetic. You had a ready answer for everything, a thoughtfulness to your opinions that was neither contrived nor merely spoken to please. And so, he found himself asking more, pressing you for further insights, testing the depth of your knowledge not to challenge, but because he wanted to hear what you had to say. At first, when he had wandered in, you seemed completely distraught but had seemed to ease your way into comfort, even in his presence.
Curious thing, that.
“You truly have an answer for everything,” he murmured at one point, more to himself than to you.
You glanced at him sidelong, the corner of your lips tugging in what might have been amusement. “You say it as though it is a fault.”
He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “On the contrary, it is rather impressive.”
You inclined her head, not as a show of modesty but of simple acknowledgment. And for a brief moment, Satoru found himself simply… looking at you.
Your hair was finely arranged, swept up with delicate precision, though a few strands framed your face in an artful softness. The candlelight played upon the curve of your cheek, your lashes casting faint shadows upon your skin. Your dress—subtle in its elegance—complimented you in a way that felt effortless, the cut revealing just enough of the delicate arch of your throat, the slope of your shoulders, without ever breaching the realm of impropriety. You had always carried herself well, but there was something about you tonight, something that held his gaze longer than he intended.
He might have lingered longer still, might have remained entranced by the way the flickering light moved across your skin, had you not turned to him suddenly and called his name.
“My lord?”
He blinked, startled out of his reverie. “Hm?”
You studied him for a beat, her expression unreadable, before you simply exhaled and turned your gaze back to the painting. “I meant to thank you,” you said, voice quieter now. “For what you did last time.”
He knew what you referred to at once. The day he had defended you. The accusations that had been hurled at your feet, the venom spat in your direction—he had not tolerated it, would not have suffered it, no matter what might have stood between them.
Satoru felt the tips of his ears warm, though he smirked to deflect from it. “Ah. Well. It was merely a matter of preserving your honor.”
You turned to him fully now, your gaze steady. “You need not have done so.”
Satoru shrugged, though he found himself holding that gaze longer than he should have. “I could not stand to hear such things said of you.”
A quiet pause stretched between you both, and something in your expression shifted. A sort of understanding, perhaps. A recognition of something he could not yet name. He could not tell how long you both stood there like that, neither looking away, nor breaking the quiet that had settled so easily between you.
Then—
“Ah, here you are.”
Gojo turned sharply, his expression cooling the moment he recognized the voice.
Sukuna stood at the entrance of the hallway, his presence an unwelcome disruption to the delicate moment that had just transpired. His gaze flickered between you and Gojo, a slow, dangerous scowl settling over his features. “What the hell—”
You stiffened, immediately stepping away from Gojo, though his gaze remained steady on you. "Sukuna—"
"You’re with him?" he snapped, his tone sharp with outrage. His glare darted toward Satoru, seething. "Have you lost your mind?"
"Not here," you hissed under your breath, already moving toward him. "Let us leave, brother."
Sukuna's jaw tightened, but his glare burned hot as he pointed a warning finger at Satoru. It was almost comical how his figure seemed to be an impenetrable boulder as you—tiny in comparison to his frame—tried to shove him out to salvage whatever grace you could in your exist. “Lord Gojo, you—!”
But it was to no avail, for you had hastily quieted whatever ill reprimand Mister Sukuna Itadori had to throw towards him by shoving a hand over his mouth. Then, you grabbed his arm, practically dragging him away, as you cast one last, hurried glance at Gojo. "Good evening, my lord." And then you were gone, Sukuna stalking beside you, fuming, while Gojo remained behind, watching you disappear into the halls lined with art.
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prev. the embers | next. soon!
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a/n is this....character development??
i hope this appeased anyone who was beginning to worry that miss itadori was a bit too antagonistic ... i have my beta readers to thank otherwise we never would've made it out the trenches
reader after nanami dropped the bomb on her
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lowk i dont have much else to say but uhhh streets been saying there's gonna be another forced proximity library scene soon but how would i know what happens lolz
reblog and comment to lmk ur thoughts!
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alygator77 · 4 months ago
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.ೃ࿐motherhood and matrimony I ch 8 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪
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ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader
ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.
ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies (annoyances) to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, marriage of convenience, slow burn, smut, fluff, some angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, triggers of prior domestic abuse » 【note, this chapter contains HEAVY TRIGGERS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE. ABUSIVE PAST RELATIONSHIP. MANIPULATION. GASLIGHTING. DISSOCIATION. CHILDHOOD TRAUMA. PTSD. PANIC ATTACK. explicit sexual content, fem rec oral, orgasm.】
ꨄ words: 13.8k
ꨄ a/n. hello my loves, we are back! this is a very, heavy chapter. pls read the triggers before proceeding and read at your own discretion. i actually cried writing this chapter. i'll see you at the bottom ♡ (art by @/hanamin_0123 on X )
ꨄ taglist: open (ao3)
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ch 8 // inhale, exhale
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Mornings like these make you feel like you’re walking through someone else’s life. Sunlight seeps through the curtains in buttery streaks, and you murmur, stirring slightly under the blankets, the feeling of fingers threading softly through your hair.
Whose fingers? Are you dreaming? Oh well, if it’s a dream, it’s one you’d rather not wake up from. It’s a peaceful morning—domestic, even—and for a moment, you let yourself breathe it in, almost succumbing back to sleep, wondering if this is what normal feels like.
The peace you’re building with Satoru. This life. You let it settle over you like a soft blanket, hoping it might chase away the prickle of unease that had been clinging to your mind since last night.
Ah... but of course. Something is off. And unfortunately, the thought coils into your mind yet again, slithering in before you can stop it—an itch you can’t quite scratch.
It jolts you awake, your eyes fluttering open as the thoughts fester their wake into your mind, but as the fogginess of your heavy eyes begin to focus, the first thing you see is him.
Satoru—propped up on one elbow, looking down at you affectionately as he lays beside you on the bed—fingers brushing lazily through your hair.
“Hey you,” he murmurs quietly. “Good mornin’.”
Your cheeks blush.
Oh. This isn’t a dream. Fuck. Of course. You just remembered that you snuck into his room last night.
Your body moved on its own, and now you’re unsure what to say this morning.
Because Satoru’s smile last night outside the jacuzzi, the one that said—Everything’s fine—you’d seen past it. After all, his smile isn’t just charm; it’s armor. But this time he wasn’t shielding himself; he was shielding you.
And perhaps you would rather convince yourself it is fine. To believe that the life you’re building together isn’t as fragile as it feels—poised to crumble under the weight of the unknown.
Yet, in the stillness of the night, your mind wouldn’t let you rest. No. After saying goodnight to Satoru, returning to your separate beds, most of your night was spent tossing and turning restlessly—thoughts racing in endless circles.
And then, before you knew it, there you were—standing in the hallway, barefoot and hesitant as your fingers brushed lightly against the doorframe of his room. His door was slightly ajar and the faint glow of moonlight spilled out into the dark hallway.
Fuck. What are you doing?
Honestly, you weren’t sure what you needed exactly. Reassurance? Comfort? To hear him say one more time that everything was fine, even if you knew deep down it wasn’t? All you knew was that the weight in your chest felt unbearable, and you didn’t want to be alone with it anymore.
Quietly, you stepped inside, slowly making your way to the edge of his bed. After lowering yourself onto the mattress, you perched there—hands nervously twisting in your lap as you watched him.
He looked so… peaceful. And beautiful. His white lashes rested against his cheekbones, the faintest hint of color blooming there. His lips were slightly parted, his breathing deep and even, the rise and fall of his chest almost hypnotic. The mere sight of his expression sent a wave of longing crashing through you.
Without thinking, your hand moved, brushing lightly against his hair. The soft, silken strands slipped through your fingers, and you smoothed them back from his forehead in a gentle motion.
“Mmm…” he stirred beneath your touch, brow furrowing as a quiet murmur slipped from his lips—something too soft to make out.
You froze, hand stilling against his hair as your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, you thought he might fall back into the rhythm of sleep, but then his lashes fluttered, and his eyes opened, heavy-lidded and hazy with sleep.
“y/n…?” His voice was low, gravelly, and his gaze landed on you, soft and unfocused.
“Oh… hi…” you whispered. A warmth crept into your cheeks as his eyes lingered on you. “Sorry I, uh… didn’t mean to wake you.”
He blinked slowly, a sleepy smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he rubbed at his eyes.
“Hey… no it’s fine. You okay?”
“Yeah… um. I…” You swallowed hard, your gaze darting down to your lap as your hands curled into the fabric of your nightgown. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”
Immediately, his expression softened, the lingering traces of sleep in his gaze giving way to a quiet concern. He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow as his other hand reached for yours.
“What’s wrong?”
You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze as the words caught in your throat.
“Nothing,” you hesitate. “I just… couldn’t stop thinking.”
He let out a quiet hum, filled with understanding, before sighing softly. His hand tugged at yours, gently pulling you closer.
“C’mere…”
Before you could protest, you found yourself lying beside him, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as his arm wrapped securely around your waist. He shifted slightly, his chest pressing against your back as the blankets rustled around you both.
You felt his chest rumble against you as he let out a sleepy hum, his hand brushing lightly against your abdomen in a slow, comforting rhythm.
“Better?”
Your breath caught for a moment at the intimacy of it all—the way his face nuzzled against the crook of your neck, his nose brushing lightly against your skin.
“Um… yeah,” you whispered, letting yourself relax into him. “You’re… warm.”
“Mmhm…” his lips curved into the faintest smile as he burrowed closer. “One of my many talents… ‘m like… a human heater,” his words slurred slightly as sleep tugged at the edges of his voice. “Should charge for this, honestly.”
You let out a quiet laugh despite yourself, carrying away the weight of your earlier worries.
“Yeah… right. Is there anything you don’t think you should charge for?”
As he considered your question, his head tilted slightly, breath ghosting across your neck.
“Dunno…” he murmured, halfway between wakefulness and sleep. “Smiles, maybe. Those are free… but only f’you.”
You shifted slightly, turning your head just enough to peer back at him. The corners of his lips tugged up into a slow, lazy grin as one eye cracked open at you.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yup,” his grin widened. “See? Free of charge.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, returning his grin.
Ah… all your worries were once again melting away.
As you shifted in the bed to face him, you allowed your eyes to fully meet his.
His legs tangled with yours beneath the blankets, and his hands slid to rest at the small of your back—tracing lazy circles, lulling you into a calm you hadn’t realized you’d been craving.
“And you’re thinking too much again,” his nose brushed against yours in a playful nudge. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”
You held your breath as your fingers curled lightly against the fabric of his shirt, gripping it for some kind of anchor.
“I… I dunno…” you exhaled heavily. “I just… I’m worried, I guess.”
“About Haru?” he asked gently.
You hesitated, your gaze falling as your lips parted slightly, but no words came out. The silence hung between you.
He’s not wrong… but that’s not entirely all of it.
You’re worried about… everything. About him. About this.
About… us.
The weight of your quiet made something shift in him. He didn’t push, didn’t pry. Instead, his hand continued its soothing motion against your back.
“Hey now…” he murmured sleepily. “Nothin’s gonna happen. You’re safe. Haru’s safe. I got this.”
You look up at him through your lashes, and his own gaze was heavy lidded—the striking blue of his eyes softened by a quiet intimacy.
“How… can you be so sure?” you whispered shakily.
“Because ’m me,” he replied simply, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. It was lazy, sleepy, but so undeniably Satoru. “And I don’t lose. Ever. It’s, like… my whole fucking thing.”
You couldn’t help it—the small laugh that escaped you was quiet and soft, muffled against the broad expanse of his chest as he pulled you closer.
“Your confidence is almost as annoying as it is reassuring...”
“See? Multi-talented,” he quipped, and his hand against your back slowed as the sleep threatened to overtake him, but the lazy circles never ceased. “Seriously, though… whatever’s got you tied up in knots, don’t carry it alone. ’m here… always.”
His words settled over, wrapping around the edges of your anxiety. Your cheek nuzzled into the soft fabric of his shirt as you nodded wordlessly—molding your body against his.
“I just… don’t want to bother you.”
“You could never bother me,” he whispered, lips brushing against your temple in a fleeting kiss. “You’re kinda like… my favorite person, y’know?”
All the unease that was weighing you down burned away as a warmth curled throughout your body. His breathing began to slow, evening out into a steady rhythm.
Once you felt his hand on your back grow still, you thought he’d drifted off, but then his drowsy voice broke the silence—filled with a quiet conviction.
“I got you princess… always.”
A small, tired smile tugged at your lips.
“Thanks, Satoru…” you whispered as your eyes fluttered closed.
The hum that rumbled from his chest in response was faint, coupled with the way his arm tightened slightly around you, pulling you even closer. And in his warmth, enveloped by the steady cadence of his breathing and the solid presence of him beside you, you felt the faint stirrings of peace. Sleep crept in gently, pulling you under in soft, lulling waves, and this time, you let it.
“Yoo-hoo, sleepyhead. Still waking up?” His voice breaks through your thoughts, teasing, and very much awake.
Your eyes snap to his again, startled, and now, you found him smirking at you, propped up on one elbow. His hair is tousled from sleep, white strands falling messily over his forehead, and his eyes—those piercing, crystalline blues—hold a glint of amusement.
“Oh… um, yeah. g’morning,” you blink, heat rising to your cheeks as the weight of his gaze settles on you.
He rests his head on the pillow beside you, reverently running his hand up your cheek. You hope he doesn’t feel how hot it’s growing under his gaze.
“You’re red.”
Well, fuck.
“And you’re staring…” you murmur quietly.
“Can you blame me?” he replies with a smirk. “You look way too fucking good in my bed.”
Your blush deepens, and you turn your head slightly to break his gaze, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you.
“I… just…”
“Was trying to seduce me, huh?”
Your eyes snap back to his, wide with indignation.
“Wha—I told you I couldn’t sleep!”
“Sure, sure,” he scoots closer to you, lips curling into a devious grin. “Buuuut… you were clinging to me a moment ago. Should’ve seen it. Super cute.”
“Tch… I was not clinging,” you protest, pulling the blankets over your body as your cheeks burn hotter.
“Uh-huh,” he hums, unconvinced, growing impossibly smug. “You sure about that? Pretty sure you mumbled my name in your sleep, too.”
Your mouth falls open, words failing you as you sputter, “I—I did not!”
“Oh, you absolutely did,” he replies smoothly, grin stretching into a smirk. “It was quite adorable. Almost melted on the spot.”
Fuck… did you?
Your eyes narrow as he flashes those pearly white teeth at you.
Nah. He’s fucking with you, you know better.
“Yeah right. You’re making that up,” you huff, rolling your eyes.
“Maybe,” he admits, shrugging one shoulder casually. “But you’ll never know, will you?”
“Unbelievable,” you mutter, giving him a playful shove. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You snore!”
He scoffs. “I do not snore.”
“You do,” you counter smugly. “Loudly. Like, so damn loud I’m surprised it didn’t wake up Haru.”
His eyebrow rises and a mischievous glint flickers in his gaze. “Ohhhh? Alright, alright. Fine then,” his voice drops low as he murmurs, “you really wanna play that game with me?”
Before you can react, he moves. You yelp as in one swift motion, he flips you onto your back, his hands pinning your wrists gently against the mattress as he hovers over you—grin downright wicked.
“Satoru!” you laugh, squirming beneath him. “Get off me!”
“Nope,” he says smugly, his face dipping closer to yours. “You accused me of snoring. That’s slander. Hate to tell ya, but I can’t let it slide.”
Your laughter fades slightly as you feel his weight press against you.
“Oh yeah?” you ask breathlessly, “And… just what are you gonna do about it, Mr. Perfect?”
Those vivid blue eyes darken, and your breath hitches as he dips his head lower, into the crook of your neck, making your heart flip as you feel his lips press a featherlight kiss behind your ear.
“Hmmm… let’s see… I wonder…” his breath tickles your skin as he trails soft kisses down your throat. “How shall I punish you?”
You blink, absorbing his words as a shiver of warmth spreads through your core.
“P-Punish?!” you stammer breathlessly.
“Mhmm...” as his kisses continue downwards, his hands loosen from your wrists, gliding down your arms reverently. “What did y’think was going to happen?”
His hands gingerly descend down your curves, palms pausing at your hips. You feel his fingers slip briefly underneath the hem of your nightgown, just above your abdomen as his lips fall lower, gentle nips against your skin.
“S-Satoru…” you whine as he hums against your skin, a smirk curling upon his lips.
“C’mon now… you come into my room… crawl into my bed… wearing these thin little pajamas…”
His thumbs rub smooth circles across your abdomen, and you feel yourself beginning to get hot.
“I wasn’t—haaa” the words die on your lips as his hand rises to the curve of your breast, thumb grazing the hardened peak of your nipple through the material of your sleepwear.
“Wasn’t what?” you’re squirming as he pebbles your nipple slowly. “Trying to drive me crazy? Showing up like this… what’s a guy to do?”
His other hand slides higher, slipping beneath the hem of your gown, and with a gentle tug, he pushes the fabric up. His eyes darken as more of your skin is revealed.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his thumb rolling over your bare nipple now, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to your core. “Last night… couldn’t see you clearly in the dark, but now…”
His lips follow his hands, closing around your nipple, and the warm, wet heat of his tongue makes your body arch, your fingers gripping the sheets as a soft whimper escapes you.
“Nngh… S-Satoru…”
“Mm… fuck yes, say it again,” he pants, his lips releasing your nipple with a sinful pop. “Say m’ name, baby. Wanna hear how bad you need me.” He switches his attention to your other breast, lavishing it with the same care—licking, sucking, each gentle nip sending another rush of arousal pooling down your thighs.
With a shake of your head, you try to bite back the desperate sound clawing its way up your throat, but as his hand descends lower, gliding down your hip, you feel his fingers brush against your inner thigh and your body betrays you.
A needy whimper slips out as you open your legs eagerly for him, earning you a cocky smirk. It curls upon Satoru’s lips as he nibbles your nipple between his teeth—vivid blue eyes looking up at you through fluttering white lashes.
“Hah. Look at that,” he breathes, flicking the hardened peak with his tongue. “Didn’t even have to ask, and those pretty little legs opened right up for me.”
The pure arrogance in his voice sets your skin on fire.
“Sh-shut up,” you snap weakly, trying your best to glare at him as a flush creeps up your neck. “You just—haaa…”
The words are stolen from you the moment his mouth begins its descent—trailing kisses lower, his tongue swiping down your abdomen in slow, wet circles, agonizingly closer to your dripping pussy.
“Hmm?” His head tilts as his thumb brushes so close to your center that your entire body shudders. You feel his breath between your legs. “Something you want, sweetheart? You gotta use your words.”
Fucking cocky ass.
Your lips part, but you hesitate—pride warring with need, the unbearable ache between your thighs clouding your thoughts.
He clicks his tongue, mockingly disappointed. A pout on those pretty lips—lips you want buried in your cunt.
“Tch. Guess you don’t want it that bad, huh?”
His fingers continue to skate up your thigh, stopping short of where you need him, and your frustration rises—hands twisting into the sheets.
“Satoru—” your hips buck involuntarily, but he tuts softly, pulling his hand away just enough to leave you aching for it.
“Mm-mm.” His voice is smooth, cruel in its amusement. “I told you, princess. Use your words.”
Your jaw tightens, nails biting into the sheets as your body trembles with need.
“You are insufferable and so fucking unfair.”
A low sinful laugh rumbles through his chest as he turns his head to your thigh, trailing gentle kisses slowly up to your pussy.
“Unfair?” he echoes as his nose ghosts dangerously over your soaked panties.
He inhales, eyes momentarily slipping shut as he takes in the sweet scent of you. And Jesus, he groans. Actually groans. Like he’s drunk on you.
Your body jerks, hips shifting impatiently under him, but he doesn’t give in. Not yet.
Instead, he arches a brow, looking up at you with that infuriatingly smug expression as he presses a fleeting kiss to your clothed core, making a violent shudder roll through you as the soft hum of his satisfaction vibrates against your heat.
“You said you wanted to savor me, didn’t you?” His lips drag slowly back up your inner thigh, teasing, taunting.
You’re pouting now, glaring down at him like you want to strangle him and kiss him at the same time, and he just chuckles, shaking his head.
“Well?”
“What, expecting me to beg?”
“Tch… stubborn girl…”
His mouth finds its way back to the soaked fabric, and this time, he presses his tongue against it, mouthing at your cunt through your panties. A desperate cry slips past your lips as your head falls back—pussy dripping. His smirk falters.
Fuck, he wants to bury his face in your cunt.
Now he’s the one struggling. You feel his fingers press into your thigh harder, nails biting into flesh, and as he pulls back, eyeing the dark, damp patch of fabric clinging to you.
"Fuck, baby…" His fingers skim slowly over the outline of your soaked folds—his hardening cock twitching in his sweats at the realization. "God… you’re fucking drenched."
You continue to bite your lip, fighting back the needy whimper that is desperate to slip out. His head tilts, shifting into something darker as he looks up at you with those ocean-blue eyes—dilated, raw and starved. God you could get lost in those eyes.
But then, that smug ass grin returns.
“All this? Just f’me?”
“Satoru…” you whine.
He clicks his tongue, resting his cheek against your thigh as he looks up at you affectionately.
“Fair’s fair, baby. I’m gonna savor you. Now then, my pretty girl… what do you want?”
Asshole. He’s playing you. And you want to resist. You really do. But you’re so fucking wet, so aching, so unbearably needy for him. Another breath shudders out of you, and as your voice breaks, your resolve snaps.
“Satoru… please—”
There’s that word. His grin shoots up, something dark and hungry flashing across his face.
“Oh?” His fingers hook around the waistband of your panties. “Please what baby? Be specific.”
Fucking hell. You’re losing it.
“Jesus, fuck. Touch me,” you gasp, finally breaking. “Fuck, please Satoru—just touch me already.  Want you—eep!”
Before you can even breathe, he’s ripping your panties down, shoving your thighs wide open, spreading your needy, dripping cunt out for him to see as he curses under his breath. His restraint snaps and oh, he’s wrecked. A filthy groan slips from his lips as he admires you, laid out for him—his cock twitching violently at the sight.
"Look at this perfect little pussy," he groans, and you mewl as he presses two fingers to your soaked folds, just barely parting them as he spreads your slick between his fingers in awe. “Heh… so fucking wet. Your little cunt is just begging to be filled, isn’t it?”
As he circles the rim of your sex, your body clenches needily around nothing, making another whine escape you as your thighs threaten to snap shut—but he grips them firmly, keeping you spread.
"Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Let me see you. Fuck, look at you," he watches transfixed as his finger presses in—just barely the tip sinking inside before pulling back.
You can feel your slick glistening down your thighs, and you shudder, back arching, voice quaking as he finally sinks his long, thick finger fully inside.
“Ahhh—Satoru!”
A downright dangerous smirk stretches across his lips as he begins to stretch you.
"Mmn… fuck, you feel so tight," your spongey walls grip him as he slowly twists his finger inside, your arousal dripping down his knuckles.
And he’s utterly transfixed, his cock throbbing against the mattress where he lays—watching you take it. He releases a shuddering breath as he shifts, gripping your thighs as he presses you forward, keeping you pinned.
"Greedy fucking hole...” he groans, eyes glued to where you're clenching around him, pumping into your pussy with slow, deep thrusts. “Wanna stuff this hungry little cunt so fucking full..."
The moment he curls his finger just right—dragging against that perfect spot, you cry out.
"Ahhh... ah ahhh... ‘toru... nngh...please… more."
There’s that pretty little word again. His eyes flick up to your face, and he’s relishing in this—you—blushing, panting, watching him with an expression that absolutely wrecks him. Licking his lips, he exhales harshly, leaning forward.
“Good girl, begging so sweet f’me.”
You feel his hot breath fanning against your core, and your thighs tremble as he ghosts those glossy lips over your slick folds—teasing you with the contact you desperately crave.
The moment his pink tongue flicks out, he groans—licking a slow, torturous stripe from your entrance up to your throbbing clit, making your whole-body jerk. A sharp cry rips from your throat as he hums against your cunt.
“Fuck…” he pants, licking and curling his finger in tandem now, “nngh… taste better than I imagined.”
His grip slides lower, kneading your ass before he yanks you closer, burying himself deeper between your thighs. The sudden force makes you yelp, but the sound quickly dissolves into a whimper as his mouth wraps about your clit—curling, flicking, savoring every drop of arousal dripping onto his lips.
“S-Sator… nnngh… fuck.”
You see stars, squirming and trembling around his face as his tongue accompanies his finger— delving deep into your tight hole. His hips rut involuntarily against the bed, cock straining unbearably in his sweats as precum leaks through the fabric.
“Mmm...” he hums against you, a sinful smirk curling as he drags his tongue up your slit again, slow and deliberate. “Fuck yes… wanna drown in your cunt.”
He’s back on you voraciously, low hungry moans mixing with the wet noises of your pussy. You pant, looking down at him and oh, he’s ravenous. His face buries between your legs as those blue eyes flick up through messy white lashes, drinking in the way you writhe for him.
And writhing for him you are. Satoru is loving it—seeing your face flushed a pretty pink, panting, your breasts heaving as you shudder against him.
“Haaa—look at you,” he pulls back, flicking his tongue rapidly over your clit now. “Heh… wanna make you squirm and shake until you're nothing but an incoherent mess, beggin’ for my cock."
You’re squirming now, eyes fluttering shut as your clint tingles from the rising pressure building within your tummy. But as you feel his second finger slip into your cunt, your eyes snap open and a desperate sob breaks from your lips. You were so close.
"Ohmygod—Satoru, please—"
He hums in amusement, lapping at your sweet essence. "Haaa... I dunno… maybe I'll grant you what you want, pretty girl,” he’s panting now, scissoring your cunt fervently between each filthy word. “Stuff your needy little hole with my thick, hard cock until you can't take any more. Bet you’d like that, huh?”
Your voice is barely coherent now, broken between ragged gasps and desperate whimpers. “Yes… yes… wan’ you ‘toru… m’close…”
Desperate to grip onto something, your fingers find purchase on his hair, slipping through the soft white strands as you pull him close, shamelessly grinding yourself on his pretty face, clenching against him as your arousal coats his lips.
“Mmmngh…” Satoru groans against your cunt, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as you use his mouth. His cock throbs eagerly against the mattress as he devours you like a man starved.
Fuck, he's so hard it hurts, aching to bury himself inside your perfect little cunt.
He fully gives in, releasing his fingers to pull you close—wrapping your legs around his shoulders as his tongue plunges deep—fucking into your entrance as he laps up your dripping arousal—nose brushing against your clit as you rock on his face. You’re on the brink of coming undone.
"Haaa... yes, yeahh! J-jus' like... mmnn... that! Oh fuuuck!"
As your fingers tug at his hair, hips rolling wildly, Satoru groans into your heat, reverberating through your core. You look down to see those glassy eyes flutter open, locking onto yours, watching every little tremor of your body as the pleasure wrecks you.
And then you snap.
Your pussy clamps down around his tongue, a sob ripping from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. Satoru groans through it, tongue pressing deeper as your walls pulse violently, drenching his eager mouth as he savors every drop of your release.
His cock jerks violently, aching with need as he drinks you down, eyes flickering shut as he hums against your overstimulated clit, prolonging your pleasure until you’re trembling uncontrollably above him.
Finally spent, your grip on his hair loosens, and your hips still as your trembling slows. Satoru gentles his kisses as he eases you down from your high, his hands trailing light, soothing circles on your thighs.
"Mmm, that's it, princess. Came so fucking hard for me..." he murmurs smugly against your sensitive flesh, pressing one last lingering kiss against your swollen clit before pulling back. His lips and chin glisten with your release as he smirks down at you. "You taste fucking incredible..."
As you watch him lick his lips hungrily, you realize he’s still not sated—not even close. Your gaze narrows to the obscene bulge straining against his grey sweats, pooling with precum. He follows your line of sight, eyes dragging down to the tent in his pants before meeting yours again, his smirk deepening.
“See what you do to me?” he pitches forward, and you shudder as his forearms bracket your head, looming over you. “Fuck… want you…” His lips graze your jaw, his voice a low, desperate rasp. “You felt so good around my fingers… can just imagine this greedy little cunt wrapped around my cock.”
But then, suddenly, the bedroom door swings open.
"Mama! The sun is up. Let’s go downstairs and play!"
Oh God.
The air is sucked straight from your lungs as Haru’s tiny voice rings through the room like a gunshot. Both you and Satoru freeze, horror crashing down like a tidal wave.
Thankfully, Satoru reacts first.
With lightning-fast reflexes, he rolls to the side, yanking you with him, shielding your naked body as he drags the sheets up in a last-ditch effort at preserving what’s left of your dignity. Haru stands in the doorway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with tiny fists, completely oblivious to the absolute disaster she’s just walked in on.
You slap a hand over your mouth, trying—failing—not to let out a panicked squeak, and Satoru, still rock-hard and reeling from the sheer whiplash of the moment, clears his throat.
“H-Hey, kiddo… uh… what’s up?”
Haru pouts at him, unimpressed. “Where’s Mama? I want Mama.”
“Oh, uh… right.” Satoru laughs, but it’s high and strained, barely holding it together as he tightens his hold around you.
You can feel the mortification radiating off him in waves, and before either of you can scramble for a better excuse, there’s another voice.
“Haru? Where’d you go? Oh—OH MY—”
The nanny—Remi.
She halts in the doorway like she’s just walked into a crime scene, brown eyes going comically round as her hands fly to her mouth. Her sleek dark hair is pulled into a ponytail, her uniform crisp as always, but her composure? Completely shattered. Her face turns a shade of red, one that rivals yours as she sees you and Satoru tangled up in the sheets.
“Oh! Uh—Haru, sweetie—” She clears her throat, trying and failing to sound normal. “Why don’t we head downstairs? Your parents will be down soon!”
Satoru audibly chokes on air, and you feel his body tense beside you. But Haru, ever persistent, pouts.
“But I wanna—”
“I’ll make waffles! Extra syrup! Maybe even some whipped cream—doesn’t that sound fun?” Remi is already halfway out the door, all but dragging Haru with her.
Haru hesitates for a split second, then gasps. “Whipped cream?!”
“Yep! Let’s go!”
And just like that, they’re gone. The door clicks shut, leaving a suffocating silence in its wake. You and Satoru remain frozen, your bodies still tangled beneath the sheets, wide-eyed and horrified.
Your entire soul leaves your body.
“Oh. My. God.” you whisper, hands flying to your face as if you can somehow will yourself out of existence. “I am never showing my face outside this room again.”
Beside you, Satoru exhales deeply, stretching out like he doesn’t have a single care in the world.
“Well,” he grins, tilting his head toward you, “that was fun.”
You gape at him, your mortification reaching new levels. “Are you—are you fucking kidding me?”
He just blinks, completely unbothered. “What?”
Groaning, you curl onto your side, burying your face into a pillow. “This is the worst day of my life.”
Satoru’s chuckle rumbles through his chest as he shifts onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. His other hand reaches over, tugging at the pillow you’re desperately clinging to.
“Oh, c’mon, princess,” he hums, infuriatingly smug. “Worst day of your life? Pretty sure five minutes ago you were having the time of your life.”
Your entire body burns hotter than the sun. “Quiet. Do not start—”
“What? Just saying,” his grin widens as his fingers trace lazy patterns down your arm. “One second you were cuming on my tongue, and the next—”
You slap a hand over his mouth before he can finish that sentence. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
The smirk beneath your palm only deepens, and you shriek, jerking your hand back as his warm tongue flicks out against your skin.
“Satoru!?”
He bursts into laughter, utterly shameless, before effortlessly pulling you into his arms. His grip is warm, steady, and one hand slides up, smoothing down your messy hair as he tucks a stray strand behind your ear.
“You’re always so cute when you’re flustered,” he murmurs, dropping into something softer.
“I am not flustered,” you huff, scowling as you bury you face into his chest, grumbling “I am humiliated.”
A quiet, amused sigh rumbles through him as his fingers begin to trace slow, lazy circles over your hip, featherlight, absentminded. Neither of you move, neither of you rush to untangle from each other—it’s a rare moment of stillness.
“Hey,” he murmurs gently, nudging his nose against your temple. “It’s okay.”
You pout, cheeks still burning, as you peek up at him through your lashes. “How am I ever gonna look Remi in the eye again?”
His lips twitch, amusement flickering behind his bright eyes before he rolls them with exaggerated ease. “Baby, you don’t have to,” he says. “Just stare at her forehead.”
You groan, swatting at his chest as you roll onto your back. “You are so not helpful.”
Satoru laughs, deep and unbothered, before tugging you right back against him. His arms wrap around you easily, pressing you close, his nose nudging against your hair. You feel yourself melting into him as his lips brush a lingering kiss against your temple, soothing the heat burning under your skin.
All you want to do is remain here—tangled up in him, forever. But of course, he reminds you of your reality.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your hair, fingers tracing delicate lines down your spine. “We’re gonna have to go downstairs at some point.”
You let out a quiet whine, curling in on yourself. “No. We absolutely do not.”
He chuckles, nosing at your temple again. “Why don’t you go ahead and clean up, hm? We’ve got a big day ahead of us. Suguru is expecting us.”
You mumble something unintelligible against his collarbone before sighing, reluctantly peeling yourself away from him, the cool air replacing his warmth making you shiver. As you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, reality crashes back down on you.
"You know, I should’ve known this would happen," you grumble, trudging towards to bathroom. "You never lock the damn door. It’s like the whole fucking bathroom fiasco all over again.”
Satoru grins, plopping back onto the bed lazily. "I didn’t see you complaining when I had my face between your—"
A pillow smacks him square in the face before he can finish. He yelps, half laughing as he dodges your second attempt.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle the damage control,” he says smugly.
You pause at the bathroom door, squinting at him in pure suspicion. “…What exactly does ‘damage control’ mean?”
That wicked grin stretches across his lips, slow and self-satisfied, his bright eyes gleaming with mischief. “It means I’ll flash Remi a dazzling smile, crack a joke, and act like nothing happened. Works every time.”
You groan, shaking your head as you shuffle through the doorway. “Great… I am so screwed.”
The door clicks shut behind you, and Satoru smirks, settling back into the pillows with a sigh. He can hear the water running, but it barely registers, his mind still clouded with the remnants of you—your warmth, your scent, the way you had unraveled beneath him just minutes ago.
And then his gaze flickers downward.
Your panties—still damp, tangled in the mess of bedding, glistening with your arousal—catch his eye.
His throat tightens. His cock twitches, still painfully hard, still aching with need.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. But he’s already reaching for them.
The fabric is still warm, still sticky, and the moment he hooks a finger around the waistband, lifting them to his face, your scent floods his senses. A violent shudder rips through his spine. It’s obscene. It’s filthy. And it makes him impossibly harder.
A deep, guttural groan rumbles in his chest as his hips press into the mattress, instinct taking over. Rolling onto his back, his free hand shoves down his sweats just enough to free his aching cock. Precum smears against his abs, and the first tight stroke around the thick base has his head falling back against the pillows, lips parting on a sharp gasp.
“Haaa—baby…” he grunts, pressing your panties to his face as he his hips buck into his fist.
His mind is still clouded with the way you came apart for him—the way you rode his face, rolling your hips, thighs trembling, voice breaking as you cried his name. His jaw clenches, fingers twisting in the damp lace, pressing it harder against his nose, drowning in the sweet, intoxicating scent of you.
God, he’s obsessed.
His breath turns ragged, his wrist flicking faster as heat coils deep in his gut. He pictures you—perched on top of him, sinking down onto his cock, stretching around him, taking him so perfectly. His body reacts on instinct, rutting up into his palm, fucking into his tight grip with reckless abandon.
“Nnngh… oh yes… fuuuck just like that,” he whimpers, thick with need. “Baby… haaa… gonna have you dripping down my cock next time—ahhh, fuck—"
His rhythm stutters, muscles seizing, toes curling as pleasure crashes over him like a tidal wave. His stomach clenches, his breath catches, and then—
A strangled moan tears from his throat as he spills over his fist, thick, sticky ropes of cum painting his stomach. His body trembles, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession as the last waves of his orgasm rip through him. His eyes squeeze shut as he milks himself dry, accentuating each pulse of release with a shuddering whine, muffled against your panties.
For a few moments, the only sound in the room is his ragged breathing, his limbs lax and boneless against the bed.
Then his eyes flick toward the bathroom door.
The water is still running.
A lazy, satisfied smirk tugs at his lips as he reaches for a tissue from the nightstand, cleaning himself up at an unhurried pace, basking in the post-orgasm haze. His muscles are still tingling, pleasure simmering warm and slow in his veins.
And then he sees them—your panties, still resting on the bed beside him.
He hesitates for only a second before smirking, reaching for the nightstand. The drawer slides open, and with a flick of his wrist, he tucks them inside.
His dirty little secret—maybe for later.
Anyways. Right.
Time to handle damage control.
“Oh! Good morning, sweetheart,” Remi chirps, voice light, easy. “I was wondering when you’d come down.”
She sets a fresh cup of coffee at your usual seat, so natural, so routine, that it momentarily soothes the buzzing in your chest. Oh. She’s being nice. And not weird about it at all.
But then—
“Did you sleep well?”
You freeze mid-step while heat creeps up your neck, blooming across your cheeks before you can smother it. Satoru pauses too, his coffee cup halfway to his lips, but unlike you, he just smirks. That infuriating look flashing in his eyes as he watches you with far too much amusement—scrambling into your seat.
“Oh—uh…” your throat bobs as you swallow hard. “Yeah. I did. Thanks.”
Awkward…
As your throat clears, you internally will yourself to sound as normal as possible, while Satoru—little shit that he is—just keeps watching, just keeps smirking, like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say something that will make you wish for the sweet release of death.
But thankfully, Remi either doesn’t notice or chooses not to comment.
“Are you hungry?” she asks, already moving toward the counter. “Satoru made you a plate.”
Satoru hums, lazily swirling his coffee.
“She worked up an appetite, m’sure…”
Your foot connects with his shin under the table, and he yelps, nearly spilling his coffee while Haru giggles at his suffering.
With a huff, he rubs his leg, muttering “Violence before breakfast. Unbelievable…” His lips drop into a petulant pout. “Tch… I even slaved over the stove this mornin, all for you…”
Your brow lifts, unimpressed, as Remi giggles—setting the dish down in front of you with an easy flourish. The moment you look down at your plate, you immediately know he’s full of shit.
Waffles. Golden brown. Crisp edges. Beside them… flower-shaped eggs? Yeah, right. Satoru doesn’t make flower-shaped anything.
Slowly, your gaze drags back up to meet his, eyes narrowing. He’s grinning at you far too suspiciously.
“You didn’t make these,” you say matter-of-factly.
His smile falters, just for a second, before he dramatically slumps back in his chair, pouting like a scolded child. “Wow. You didn’t even try to believe it… not even for a second.”
You arch a brow. “Did you expect me to believe it? You—making flower shaped eggs?”
“I tried,” he sighs, slouching forward as he cradles his chin in his palm, looking thoroughly betrayed. “But Remi threatened my life.”
“No, I saved you,” she corrects with a small chuckle.
Satoru groans while Remi shakes her head, muttering quietly to you, “Trust me, sweetheart… you wouldn’t have wanted the eggs he made.”
Haru nods enthusiastically, mouth stuffed full. “’toru’s eggs were crunchy.”
Satoru scoffs, scandalized. “Excuse me. They were caramelized.”
“They were burnt,” Remi supplies sweetly.
“They were enhanced,” Satoru insists, crossing his arms.
You stifle a laugh, finally cutting into your waffles. And just like that, your worries melt away. The morning falls into an easy rhythm—the air humming with warmth, filled with the quiet clatter of silverware, Haru’s happy little kicks against the chair legs. It’s simple. It’s comfortable.
Remi moves through the kitchen with practiced ease, topping off Satoru’s coffee without needing to ask, pausing to wipe a stray smudge of syrup from Haru’s cheek with a fond shake of her head. Everything about her is effortless, warm. Kind.
She takes a seat across from you, cradling her tea in both hands—posture relaxed as she blows gently over the rim.
“So,” she muses, tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Any plans for today?”
You glance at Satoru before answering, catching the way he leans back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head with an exaggerated groan.
“We’re heading into Gojo Corp for a bit,” you say, slicing another piece of waffle. “Got some things to take care of.”
“Ah, work, huh?” Remi hums, taking a slow sip of tea. “Must be nice, working together like that. I imagine it makes things easier… or harder?” Her eyes flick between you and Satoru, a teasing lilt curling at the edges of her voice. “Do you ever get sick of each other?”
Satoru snorts, setting down his coffee with a smirk. “She wishes she got sick of me.”
You roll your eyes, lips twitching despite yourself. “Oh, constantly.”
Remi laughs lightly, shaking her head. “Mmm, I doubt that.”
The conversation drifts easily—small talk about work, about how Haru had insisted on watching the same cartoon three times in a row yesterday. But then, after a comfortable lull, Remi shifts slightly in her seat, her fingers curling gently around the rim of her cup as her voice turns more measured.
“You’re meeting with Suguru Geto today?”
Your head lifts slightly—the shift in her tone catching your attention. Across the table, Satoru’s eyes flick toward her, just barely. So quick, so subtle, you almost miss it.
“Mhm...” you nod, hesitating slightly. “That’s right.”
Remi exhales, shaking her head.
“That’s gotta be tough…” she swirls her tea absentmindedly, watching the liquid move. “The custody case, I mean… he’s got his work cut out for him.”
Your grip tightens slightly around your fork—there’s nothing inherently off about what she’s saying, but still… the reminder sends a ripple of unease through your chest. Maybe it’s the weight of the case itself, or maybe it’s just the exhaustion that comes with constantly thinking about it. You’re not sure.
“He’s exceptional,” Satoru says smoothly, matter-of-factly. He takes a slow sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of his mug. “There’s no one else I’d trust more than him with this case.”
Remi hums, nodding, but she doesn’t quite meet your gaze right away. “Of course,” she murmurs, offering a small, reassuring smile. “I just mean—it must be a lot for you to deal with. I hope things go smoothly. It’s good that you have someone like him in your corner.”
The warmth in her voice should be comforting, right? Why aren’t you comforted? You find yourself nodding, but the weight of her words begins to bury you. Satoru eyes flick to you as he catches onto your unease. Tilting his head slightly, he studies Remi before immediately shifting gears.
“Remi,” he says, tapping a finger against his plate. “Could you grab some more syrup? Pretty sure I saw it in the cabinet earlier.”
“Oh! Of course,” she chirps, setting her tea down and rising to her feet as she moves toward the pantry.
The moment her back is turned, Satoru leans slightly toward you, his voice dropping just above a whisper. “Don’t let it get to you,” he murmurs, warmth curling around the shell of your ear. “Remember? I got you… always.”
His fingers ghost over your knee beneath the table, brief but grounding, and as you blink up at him, something in the way he’s looking at you—steady, certain—eases the tightness in your chest.
“Yeah…” you whisper, returning his soft smile while your hand settles over his, offering a reassuring squeeze.
But from the corner of your eye, you catch it—Remi, standing by the counter, fingers lingering over the syrup bottle.
…a pause?
Then, so seamlessly it’s almost unnoticeable, she picks it up and turns back around—expression easy, light, slipping back into place like nothing happened.
"So,” she says cheerfully, placing the syrup in front of Satoru before settling back into her seat. “What time do you think you’ll be back? Just wondering if Haru will need dinner before you get home."
The question is innocent. Logical, even. It makes perfect sense for her to ask. And yet—
Something about it feels… off?
No. Perhaps you’re imagining it. Maybe you’re just on edge. Overthinking things.
After all, Remi is kind.
“Every time I walk in here, I think it can’t possibly get worse,” Suguru mutters, loosening his tie as he sinks into one of the chairs opposite Satoru’s desk. “And yet, you continue to outdo yourself.”
Your gaze sweeps over the office, and you find yourself reluctantly agreeing. The space is massive, floor-to-ceiling windows offering a sprawling, ridiculous view of the Tokyo skyline. It looks professional, should feel professional—but the illusion is broken the second you take in the state of the room.
Satoru’s desk is buried under a chaotic mess of papers, some crumpled, others half-stacked, as if he had started to organize them before giving up halfway. A small dish of candy sits beside the keyboard, its contents long gone, save for the sea of discarded wrappers. Against the far wall, an obnoxiously comfortable-looking leather couch sits, one you know has seen more of Satoru’s midday naps than actual work.
And then, there’s the final touch—Suguru gestures toward the golf club leaning against the bookshelf, his brow arching.
“You don’t even play golf.”
Satoru barely glances up from where he’s lazily spinning in his chair, a smug grin curling his lips.
“It’s for decoration.”
Suguru groans, rolling his eyes as he tries to make room for his documents on the desk. You sigh, already moving to help, straightening the mess with quick, practiced hands.
"Everything in this office is for decoration,” you mutter, stacking papers into an organized pile before flicking your gaze to Satoru. “Including you.”
Satoru is pleased—gasping dramatically as he places a hand over his heart.
“Oh? So you admit I enhance the ambiance?” His smirk is all teeth. “Always knew I was a statement piece. Finally, my wife admits I’m nice to look at.”
You roll your eyes, heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah… that’s not what I said.”
Leaning forward, Satoru props his elbows on the desk, vivid blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Mmm, no, but it’s what you meant.”
Suguru doesn’t even look up from his folder. “I know what she meant.” Then, flipping a page, he glances at you. “Lemme guess. He makes you do all the work?”
“Yup.”
Suguru clicks his tongue, unimpressed, before turning his unimpressed stare on Satoru. The man, unbothered as ever, leans back in his chair, throwing his hands up in an exaggerated shrug.
“What?” Satoru says, unabashed. “I’ve always loved her work ethic. It’s inspiring, really. Besides, delegation is the mark of true corporate genius. You wouldn’t understand, Suguru.”
Suguru levels him with a flat stare, then tilts his head toward the far end of the office.
“Oh yeah? And tell me, how exactly does a gumball machine contribute to your corporate genius? Or is that also for decoration.”
You follow his gaze toward the bright red gumball machine standing proudly in the corner, positioned beside a sleek espresso maker.
“Oh, that?” Satoru grins like he’s just been waiting for someone to ask. “That’s for morale.”
You scoff, cutting Suguru a knowing look before shaking your head. “I hate that I kind of believe that…” you mutter under your breath.
Suguru exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose before dragging a hand down his face. There’s a tired sort of patience in his movements, like he’s been through this song and dance too many times before.
“Right…” he mutters, shaking his head. “I swear you designed this office specifically to avoid working.”
Satoru’s grin only stretches wider, unabashed. “Exactly.” He props his feet up on the desk, reclining with the ease of a man without a single real responsibility.
Suguru gives him a flat look. Then, with a quiet thud, he slides a thick folder onto the desk.
“Well… not today.”
The energy in the room shifts. Satoru’s gaze flicks to you, the teasing glint in his eyes softening as he drops his feet back to the floor. You straighten slightly in your seat as Suguru clicks his pen, tone all business now.
“Alright. Custody battles always boil down to one thing—what’s in the best interest of the child.” His eyes flick between you and Satoru as he flips through his notes. “The court isn’t concerned with what either parent wants. They’re focused on stability, consistency, and overall well-being for Haru.”
You nod, but there’s a pressure settling in your chest. You already know what’s best for Haru—being here, with you, with Satoru. She barely even knows Naoya. The idea of a judge, a complete stranger, making that decision for her makes your stomach twist.
Suguru’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “First things first,” he says, flipping to another section of his notes. “We need to establish parental involvement. Has Naoya been active in Haru’s life at all?”
“No,” you don’t hesitate.
Suguru doesn’t look surprised, but his gaze lifts slightly, assessing. “Never?”
You shake your head, pressing your lips together.
"He didn’t want to be involved," you say quietly. "I tried… but it was like pulling teeth just to get him to acknowledge her, especially before we separated. It wasn’t until I filed for child support that he started using her as a tool, and he kept delaying the court date, always coming up with some excuse.”
“Oh?” Suguru’s brows lift slightly. “You filed for child support? When was that?”
“Um… about a year ago.” Your fingers fidget in your lap. “Shortly after I left him.”
There’s a pause as Suguru jots something down. His expression remains neutral, but there’s a sharpness to his eyes, a calculating edge as he pieces together the information.
Then, as casually as ever, he asks, “And how did he react? When you left him?”
Dinner was plated, still steaming.
You had made his favorite—teriyaki salmon, perfectly seared, a side of rice, miso soup. You had set the table, poured him a drink. Everything was in its place, arranged to look as normal as possible.
But it wasn’t normal. The packed bags by the door gave everything away.
The apartment was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that made your ears ring. Haru sat on the floor, cross-legged, focused on her blocks. Her little hands moved diligently, stacking each one with careful precision, humming to herself—untouched by the weight pressing down on your chest. When the tower inevitably toppled, the wooden blocks clattered against the floor, breaking the silence for only a moment before fading back into stillness.
Your palms pressed flat against the kitchen counter; fingers splayed against the cool surface as you tried to steady yourself. Any minute now. Any minute now.
Then—
The door creaked open.
Your breath hitched, your body going rigid as Naoya stepped inside. The keys in his hand clinked as he set them on the entry table. Exhaling, he rustled his hair as his gaze swept across the apartment, moving from the dinner waiting on the carefully set table until suddenly, he froze—eyes narrowing as they landed on the bags.
For a second, there was nothing. No words. No movement. Just a long, unnerving silence. And then—
“The fuck is this?”
His voice was quiet. Too quiet—the kind of quiet that had always meant danger. Your stomach curled in on itself, your muscles locking as if bracing for impact. You opened your mouth, trying to summon the words you had rehearsed in your head over and over and over again—but they lodged in your throat.
Instead, all you could manage was—
“I… made your favorite.”
You gestured toward the table—toward the salmon. As if that was the thing that needed explaining. As if that was the thing that mattered. He rolled his eyes, kicking off his shoes before striding toward the bags.
“You know that’s not what I fucking asked.”
Grabbing the zipper of your bag, a scoff ripped from his throat as he yanked it open, revealing its contents. Clothes. Toiletries. Haru’s favorite stuffed Pikachu. The things people pack when they don’t plan on coming back.
“You goin’ somewhere, sweets?”
Every instinct was screaming at you to run, run, run. But your feet stayed planted, rooted to the spot as if the very air had turned thick and unmovable. Your fingers curled against your palms as you forced the words out quietly.
“I… I think we need time apart.”
The moment the words left your lips, Naoya barked out a laugh—loud, sharp, mocking. He actually doubled over, hands on his knees, shaking his head as if you had just told the funniest joke in the world.
“That’s cute,” he mused, catching his breath between laughs, his voice dropping into something almost patronizing. When he straightened, his eyes pinned you in place, something unreadable flickering behind them. Something dangerous.
“And tell me, sweetheart—where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Your breath caught, and he saw it—your hesitation, the way your lips pressed together, how your fingers twitched by your sides. A slow, cruel smirk curled at his lips, dripping in amusement.
“Oh,” he breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So, you don’t even have a plan?”
Another sharp laugh pushed past his lips—low, cruel, unforgiving. But just as quickly as it came, it vanished. His expression hardened, eyes darkening as his jaw clenched. The shift was so sudden, so jarring, you felt the air leave your lungs.
Holding your breath, your gaze followed him as he began slowly pacing, like he was working himself up. “Jesus fucking Christ…” he muttered, fingers pressing against his temples. His next exhale came out shaky, forced. “You’re so fucking stupid sometimes, you know that?”
“Naoya… please—”
“Stupid BITCH!”
The explosion came out of nowhere.
The sheer force of his voice rattled through your chest, slammed against the walls, reverberated through the floor beneath your feet.
A brief silence followed—Haru’s humming stopped. As you stood there—eyes wide, Naoya glaring at you—in the corner of your eye, you saw your daughter stilling, suddenly silent in the middle of stacking her blocks.
Shit.
Swallowing hard, you forced your voice to steady, lowering it, softening it, as if that would keep things from spiraling further.
“Naoya… let’s just talk, okay? I—”
The next thing you knew, a ceramic plate shattered at your feet.
The impact was violent—shards splintering across the floor, cutting through the quiet like a gunshot. You flinched so hard your entire body jerked back while Haru let out a sharp breath from across the room.
Chest heaving, pulse thundering, your eyes zeroed in on the scattered debris, glinting under the kitchen light—sharp, jagged edges that could have easily torn through skin if you had been just one step closer.
“Fuck… see what you fucking make me do?” he muttered, shaking his head as he paced across the kitchen. “You always push me, always fucking nagging, like some goddamn broken record. I give you everything, and you still bitch like an ungrateful little—”
His voice blurred. You were barely hearing him anymore. Your pulse was too loud, roaring in your head as a ringing sound began to drown him out—drown everything out.
"Shit, baby…"
The shift was instantaneous.
You blinked, refocusing, and suddenly—he was in front of you.
Close. Too close. His fingers curled around your wrist—not harshly, but firmly.
“Look, I…” He exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face before raking it through his hair. When his eyes met yours, something in them was different. Softer. More open, more human.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said, quieter now. “You know I—” He let out a heavy breath, like he was the one suffering. “I love you, baby. So much. You just make me crazy sometimes, you know that?”
The whiplash sent your thoughts into a tailspin. The heat of his palm against your wrist. The gentleness in his voice. Your body screamed at you to pull away, to resist.
But your heart—your stupid, aching heart—
“You don’t have to do this, baby.” Naoya’s thumb brushed over the inside of your wrist, slow, soothing. Tethering. “I get it. Things have been… rough lately. I’ve been stressed, work’s been a fucking nightmare, and I know I take that out on you sometimes.”
You swallowed hard, breath hitching, vision blurring as you blinked back the sting behind your eyes. This is what he did. This was how he made you stay.
He spun words into silk, wove apologies into something tender, something careful.
A beautiful lie.
"I'll fix it," he promised, his lips curling into something almost boyish, like he already knew he'd won. "I'll take better care of you, yeah? You and Haru. We can fix this. Just… stay. Stay right where you belong."
For a second—just a second—your mind whispered the possibility.
Maybe it could be different this time. Maybe he meant it. This is fixable…right? Things could be okay if you just—
No.
No.
This was the cycle. The same fucking cycle that had been spinning over and over and over again.
Rage. Apology. Empty promises. Repeat.
You had seen this moment before. Felt this warmth, heard this regret, let these pretty little words lull you into submission. And every single time—every single time—you had fallen for it.
But not this time.
Naoya’s grip tightened the longer you stayed quiet, making your breathing quicken now—shallow, panicked. His gaze flicked across your face, calculating, searching for an answer he wanted—needed—to hear.
"Baby?" His voice was still soft, but there was something sharp underneath. "You wanna sit down with me?"
You swallowed hard. And then, somehow—somehow—you found your voice.
"I… can’t," you whispered.
For a second, nothing moved. Not the air, not the world, not even him.
His fingers curled tighter around your wrist—just long enough to send ice shooting through your veins—before loosening again.
"You can’t what?"
“I’m leaving Naoya. And I’m taking Haru.”
His lips parted for a moment, but nothing came out, until finally, those wicked lips curled into something cruel—amused.
"C’mon now… you don’t mean that," he said, like it was a joke, like you were saying something ridiculous. "You’re just upset."
His hand lifted, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Too soft. Too gentle. Your skin burned under a touch you once leaned into, once believed in.
"You don’t really wanna do this, baby," his thumb ghosts over your cheek. "I get it. Things have been stressful, I haven’t been at my best, but you’re being ridiculous. You don’t have to go and make a scene."
As his fingers skimmed the curve of your jaw, cradling it like something fragile, you held your breath. It’s the very same caress he’d always use after losing his temper—after breaking something—brushing the tear trailing down your cheek, like he was trying to rewrite reality, trying to pull you back into the script.
"Let’s just sit down and eat, hm?" he coaxed, smooth as silk. "You made my favorite, didn’t you? It smells incredible. We should eat before it gets cold."
He was smiling now, gentle, reassuring—like none of this had happened. Like if you just sat down, everything would go back to normal. Like you wouldn’t still feel the tremble in your hands, the stinging heat of his words.
As you opened your mouth to speak, he pulled you close.
"Don’t do this, baby," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours for just a moment. His breath was warm against your lips. "Just… be good for me, okay?"
Be good for me.
The words settled over you like oil, thick and suffocating. And suddenly, blinking through your own empty haze, everything became too clear.
The shards of ceramic scattered at your feet. The tiny splinters of glass catching the light. The dining table still set, untouched. Waiting for someone to sit down. As if there wasn’t a shattered plate on the floor.
As if he hadn’t just thrown it. As if he wasn’t capable of so much worse.
Rage. Apology. Empty promises. Repeat.
"I’m leaving," you repeated.
His fingers twitched, then released you altogether. Exhaling through his nose, he shook his head, disappointed—as if you were being unreasonable.
"You’re nothing without me," he muttered.
The words settled like a weight in your stomach, but you remained silent.
His lips curled as his head tilted slightly, scanning you like he was recalibrating, assessing—trying to find a new way to break you down.
"N o t h i n g," he repeated, slower this time, dragging the word out like it was something filthy.
The first tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. A quiet, shaky sob caught in your throat, but you swallowed it back.
Naoya wasn’t finished.
"Look at you," he scoffed, shaking his head. "Pathetic. You wouldn’t last a fucking week without my money. You’re a failure. A desperate little bitch who got knocked up and thought she could trap me with a useless kid."
A sharp breath punched from your lungs, a gasp—small, broken. He could degrade you all he wanted. He had done it before, and he would do it again. But Haru?
Something inside you splintered, something that had been held together by fear and exhaustion and the faintest hope that maybe—maybe he could change.
"Haru is not useless."
The words left your mouth before you even realized you had spoken them, and Naoya stilled—brow arching slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to speak at all.
Your pulse thrummed; your hands curled into fists at your sides. You could feel the wetness in your lashes, the tremor in your shoulders. But you didn’t stop.
"And… I’d rather be miserable than be stuck with you."
Silence.
For once, Naoya was stunned into stillness. His lips parted, but nothing came out. You had never spoken back like that before. And for a fleeting, reckless moment—you felt something close to power.
But then, his expression twisted. Something ugly. Something furious. And you knew.
Fuck. You had just made a mistake.
"YOU—"
Closing your eyes, the drywall beside your head shook, caving in under his fist while dust and plaster rained onto your shoulder.
The ringing in your ears swallowed everything—your own heartbeat, the distant hum of the light, the sharp inhale you barely managed to take as your body locked up.
For the first time, you thought—really, truly thought—he was going to kill you.
You didn’t dare move.
He was yelling now, screaming in your face, his words pouring out in a torrent of unfiltered venom. But his voice was just noise now. A violent storm battering against you, word after word, crashing like waves, over and over and over.
You couldn’t hear him.
Your mind had detached, floating somewhere far away, just outside your own body. Your vision blurred at the edges; your limbs trembled so violently you thought your knees might give out.
Then—through the haze, you saw him move.
A sharp pivot. Footsteps, heavy, stomping toward the bedroom. The door slammed so hard the walls shook. And then—
Silence.
Your body didn’t move. Couldn’t move. The seconds ticked by, stretching into something unbearable, something suffocating. Your chest was so tight it ached, but your lungs kept shuddering, gasping for air.
Then, like a puppet whose strings had been severed, you crumpled. Your back hit the wall, legs giving out beneath you as you collapsed onto the floor—a sob ripping through you before you could stop it.
It tore out of your chest, raw, unrestrained. It wrecked through your entire body, like something primal, something beyond your control. Your fingers curled against your arms, clutching at your own skin, trying to hold yourself together—trying to keep from unraveling completely.
Choked gasps echoed into the emptiness of the apartment, your sobs reverberating against the walls. You sucked in a shuddering breath—trying, desperate to regain control—
And that’s when you heard it.
A whimper.
Your entire body jerked. Your head snapped up so fast your vision swam. The air in your lungs froze.
Haru.
You turned—where she had been sitting, where her tiny hands had been stacking blocks—
Empty. She’s gone.
Panic surged through your veins, crashing into you like ice. You scrambled onto your feet, nearly stumbling in your haste, your vision tunneling as your breath came fast, sharp—
"Haru?"
Silence.
Dread curled around your ribs, sinking its claws deep. You turned frantically, scanning the apartment, searching, praying.
"Haru?!"
Nothing.
Your heartbeat was deafening as you staggered forward, checking behind the couch, peering around the kitchen island. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.
Then—
Another small, muffled whimper.
You spun, pulse hammering against your ribs as you followed the sound, eyes landing on a cupboard. A small, low cabinet beneath the sink. The one that had never really locked properly. The one just big enough to—
Your breath hitched, and dropping to your knees, your fingers shook as you reached for the handle. You pulled the door open, and there she was—curled up inside, her knees drawn to her chest, tiny hands covering her ears, her small body trembling.
Tears streaked her round cheeks, her lower lip wobbled, and when her wide, terrified eyes met yours, something inside you shattered.
She had hidden herself away.
From him.
From you.
A choked sob tore from your throat as you reached for her, arms wrapping around her small frame, pulling her against your chest. She melted into you instantly, her little hands fisting into your shirt, burying her face into your shoulder as soft, hiccupped cries wracked through her tiny body.
You rocked her gently, whispering her name like a prayer, your voice breaking as your lips pressed against the crown of her head.
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
Over and over, you murmured it into her hair, against her temple, into the delicate curve of her ear, as if sheer repetition could make it true.
"I'm so sorry, Haru. I'm so, so sorry."
And that was the day you swore—you would never, never fall back into Naoya’s grasp again.
“y/n?”
The sound of your name pulled you back.
The past dissolved like mist burned away by the sun, fading into the recesses of your mind. The dim, suffocating glow of your old apartment vanished, replaced by the cool, sterile overhead lights of Satoru’s office. The warmth of Haru’s small body against yours was gone, replaced by the unyielding leather of the chair beneath you.
You blink, the weight of memory still lingering in your chest.
Across the desk, Suguru was watching you carefully, his brows furrowed slightly, his pen poised between his fingers. Beside him, Satoru had straightened in his seat, his usual playful smirk nowhere in sight. His bright eyes—always so full of mischief—were sharp now. Piercing. Concerned.
Swallowing hard, you realized your hands had curled into fists in your lap. Slowly, deliberately, you forced yourself to breath—loosening your fingers, unclenching one joint at a time.
"Sorry," you murmur hoarsely. "I was just—" exhaling, you shake your head. "I was remembering."
Satoru doesn’t speak, but his gaze lingers, tracking every subtle shift in your expression, every flicker of emotion. He’s perceptive—too perceptive. Suguru, too, holds your stare, though something in his expression softens.
"I asked how he reacted," he prompts, gentler than before.
Wetting your lips, the words tangle in your throat.
"Not well," you finally admit.
Suguru’s pen barely moved, his focus entirely on you.
"Did he put his hands on you?"
As you hesitate, Satoru’s jaw clenches—hands curling into fists under the desk, knuckles going white.
"He didn’t—" you pause, pressing your fingers into your temples. "He threw things. Punched the wall. Screamed in my face until I couldn’t even understand what he was saying anymore."
Silence.
Satoru exhales sharply through his nose, his fingers twitching before he folds his arms tightly across his chest. His lips press into a thin line, tension radiating from every part of him as Suguru sets his pen down.
"That’s important," he says carefully. "If there were witnesses, records of damage, anything like that, it could help.”
"I… didn’t call the police," you murmur. "No reports, no records. Just… me."
Suguru nods, as if he had already expected that answer.
"And the child support case?” he continues, voice even. “Do you still have the documentation for that? Any filings, court dates, official correspondence?"
You stiffen, and something flickers across your face—guilt, unease, something you can’t quite name. Satoru’s eyes flick toward you, catching the slight shift in your posture.
"I…" your fingers curl against the fabric of your blouse. "I never went through with it."
Suguru tilts his head. "You never went through with it?"
You swallow; throat suddenly dry.
"I filed," you admit, barely above a whisper. "I started the process. I needed the financial support… he shut down all our joint credit cards, stopped paying the rent… kept delaying, making excuses, pushing back the court date. And then…"
Your gaze drifts toward Satoru, your expression softening despite yourself. A wry smile tugs at your lips.
"And then I married Satoru."
Satoru reaches out without hesitation, his hand finding yours, fingers curling around it with a reassuring squeeze. His thumb strokes the back of your hand—gentle, steady, grounding.
"And you no longer needed the financial support," he murmurs, piecing it together.
You nod. "Yes. So… I stopped responding to his messages."
“Can I see those messages?”
Suguru’s voice pulls your attention back to him—something unreadable flickering across his face.
"Oh… um, sure. Why?"
"Because the way you stopped responding could make a difference," he says evenly, holding out a hand. "We need to see how this will be interpreted in court."
A small knot tightens in your stomach, but you don’t hesitate for long. Pulling away from Satoru’s grasp, you reach into your bag, fingers unsteady as you unlock your phone. Scrolling through the old message thread, you hand it over.
Suguru takes the phone, his expression unreadable as he starts scrolling. The room feels eerily quiet. His brows furrow slightly, his thumb pausing at certain messages, and the longer he reads, the more apparent his concern becomes. His jaw tightens. The pen he had been twirling between his fingers stills completely.
Satoru notices. His easy, lazy demeanor shifts, shoulders straightening, his eyes flicking between Suguru’s face and the phone. Your fingers press into your lap, anxiety twisting in your gut.
“What’s up Suguru?” Satoru says. “I know that face.”
Suguru doesn’t respond immediately. His thumb halts on the screen, and when he finally speaks, his voice is careful.
“y/n… did you ever explicitly tell Naoya you got married?”
Your stomach knots. “Um… no…”
A pause.
“Did you tell him you no longer needed financial support?”
Dread coils around your ribs, squeezing. You already know where this is going.
“No…”
Suguru exhales slowly, setting the phone down on the table before meeting your gaze head-on. His expression is unreadable, but the weight behind it makes your pulse pick up.
“Did you ever tell him that both you and Haru moved in with Satoru?”
You hesitate, glancing at Satoru before answering.
“No… um, he… kept contacting me, but I never picked up his calls. I just… ignored him.”
Suguru leans back slightly, his fingers steepled together as he releases a slow breath through his nose. You can see him choosing his next words carefully, and somehow, his silence feels heavier than anything he could say.
Your pulse hammers against your ribs, unease crawling up your spine. "What?" Your voice comes out shakier than you’d like.
Suguru’s eyes flick between you and Satoru before he finally says it.
“That’s not going to look good on our behalf.”
Your stomach drops. “What do you mean?”
“It paints the picture that you up and left without informing him of Haru’s whereabouts. Legally, he had parental rights—even if he wasn’t actively involved. If the court sees this as you cutting off access to his child, it could be a problem.”
The words hit like a slap.
Nausea rises in your chest as the weight of it settles over you—heavy, suffocating. You had been so focused on escaping, on surviving, that you hadn’t thought of how it would look on paper. You hadn’t considered what it meant legally, hadn’t realized that in the court’s eyes, your silence might be seen as something calculated, something deliberate.
You had unknowingly made this harder.
You just wanted to be free. To disappear from him. To never hear his voice again, never flinch at the sound of his footsteps, never have to wonder which version of him you’d be facing that day.
"Hey.”
Satoru’s voice cuts through the fog in your mind, gentle but firm. You blink, grounding yourself as his warm palm finds yours beneath the table, fingers wrapping around your own.
"You're spiraling," he murmurs, grip reassuring, anchoring you. "Breathe, sweetheart."
Realizing only now how tight your chest has become, you suck in a shuddering breath. Across from you, Suguru watches silently, but he doesn’t interrupt—letting Satoru handle it.
"You didn’t do anything wrong," Satoru continues, voice low and steady. "You didn’t owe that bastard anything. And you did what you thought was best at the time."
His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a slow, comforting motion.
"You’re not the one who abandoned Haru," he murmurs, tone firm. "He did."
“Exactly,” Suguru chimes in, measured but sure. “And now we know what he’ll latch onto, how he’ll try to twist things in his favor. And we’ll be prepared for it.”
Satoru gives your hand one last squeeze before finally letting go, leaning back in his chair. He tilts his head at Suguru, lips curling into something sharp.
"Good thing we have a damn good lawyer then, huh?"
Suguru sighs, shaking his head, but there’s the faintest trace of a smirk at the corner of his lips.
"You mean the best lawyer. Keep up."
Satoru scoffs, stretching lazily as he folds his arms behind his head. "If you're the best, then why does my name bring in the bigger checks?"
"Because people like looking at you, not listening to you."
Satoru gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "Wow. That hurts, Suguru. That hurts."
"Good. Feel it.”
A breath escapes you—something close to a laugh. Small, but real. Satoru catches it immediately. His eyes flick to you, and for a brief moment, the teasing glint softens, just slightly.
Like he’s cataloging it. The way your shoulders have eased, the way a bit of color has returned to your face.
"See, sweetheart? He’s so mean to me," he whines, nudging your arm. "Did you hear that? Just, like, zero respect."
Rolling your eyes, your smile grows—the weight in your chest lifting, if only for a moment.
"You act like I haven’t been carrying you since we were kids," Suguru drawls, flipping a page in his folder.
Satoru straightens immediately. "Excuse me? That is blatant slander."
"Is it?" Suguru quirks an eyebrow. "Who was the one who got you through high school? Barely, might I add.”
"Hey now," Satoru objects, leaning forward. "I was a bright and capable student."
"Sure. When you weren’t slacking off and being a goddamn menace."
You shake your head, amused as their bickering continues—like muscle memory, like second nature. It’s effortless, this constant push and pull between them, a rhythm so ingrained it feels like breathing.
And for a brief moment, you let yourself sink into it, warmth curling in your chest. Like nothing has changed. Like you aren’t in the middle of preparing for a custody battle. Like there isn’t a pit of anxiety still gnawing at your ribs.
Satoru and Suguru make it easy.
Then your phone buzzes against the table where Suguru placed it, face down—a tiny vibration against the polished wood, so quiet it barely cuts through the noise of their conversation.
It’s nothing. Just a text. A notification.
Without much thought, you reach for it while the boys go at it—Satoru gesturing wildly, his voice dramatic, animated. Suguru flipping a page in his folder, unimpressed, already prepared to dismantle whatever ridiculous argument Satoru is making.
Unlocking the screen, your eyes flick to the message.
Naoya: We need to talk. When can I see you? Just… be good for me.
The words register slowly, their meaning sinking in like ink bleeding through paper.
The air turns thin—the office warping at the edges, colors leaching into something muted, distant. Your pulse spikes, hammering wildly in your chest, and your fingers slacken—the phone slipping from your grasp, clattering onto the table.
“Sweetheart?”
Satoru’s voice is muted, and you barely register the scrape of his chair against the floor because all you can see, all you can hear, are his words—echoing in your head.
Just be good for me.
The words crawl over your skin, wrapping tight around your throat. They coil around your ribs, squeezing, constricting, suffocating—
You don’t really want to do this, baby. Let’s just sit down and eat.
The edges of your vision blur, warping, swallowing color and sound. You’re not here. You’re there—the dim apartment, the sickly glow of streetlights bleeding through half-closed blinds, the remnants of shattered ceramic at your feet, a voice too soft, too calm—too dangerous.
Be good for me, okay?
Your body won’t move. Your ribs won’t expand.
“Baby, what is it?”
A different voice. Familiar. Safe.
As you blink, light and color slowly bleed back into your vision, and something warm presses against you—solid, steady. Satoru. His careful grip finds yours, anchoring you, pulling you back, back, back.
His other hand reaches for the phone, and his expression darkens the moment he sees the message—a muscle jumping in his jaw, his fingers clenching before he wordlessly hands the device to Suguru.
Then, he’s turning back to you.
"Hey, sweetheart…" his voice is soft, coaxing, and he cradles your face tenderly. "I need you to breathe for me."
Oh, are you not breathing?
The realization hits all at once. Your lungs are locked. Your breaths are too shallow, too fast, too panicked. The walls are still closing in, the weight still crushing your ribs. Your fingers clutch at Satoru’s sleeve, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered.
"You’re okay," pulling you in, his arms wrap around you completely. "He’s not here. He can’t touch you. I’ve got you."
The scent of him—clean linen, something crisp and warm—fills your senses. The thump-thump of his heartbeat echoes against your ear, a steady rhythm cutting through the chaos while his thumb brushes slow, deliberate circles against your back.
"Breathe with me."
You inhale, slow and shaky, then exhale.
You’re not there. You’re here.
Satoru feels the moment your body starts to ease. The moment your fingers loosen from their iron grip on his sleeve, the moment your breath finally evens out—but he doesn’t pull away, cradling you in his warmth.
Finally, you find your voice.
“I’m… okay,” you whisper, dragging your head up, meeting Satoru’s concerned gaze. His thumb brushes against your cheek—just once, fleeting, and his eyes search yours, not convinced.
A beat passes. Then, Suguru clears his throat.
"I’ll respond."
His voice is even, but there’s an edge beneath it. Cold. Measured. And you don’t protest. You can’t. Because the thought of speaking—of addressing him—sends another wave of nausea rolling through your gut.
Your body instinctively tenses again, and Satoru doesn’t let go. His fingers continue tracing slow, steady circles along your back as Suguru stares at the phone, jaw tightening just slightly before his fingers move over the screen.
The soft tap-tap-tap of his fingers against the glass is the only sound in the room. Then, a pause.
A slow, deep inhale drags through his nose, his thumb hovering over the screen for a brief second before he presses send. And the silence that follows feels heavy, expectant.
“He’s going to respond,” you murmur, barely above a whisper.
Suguru leans back slightly, watching the screen. Waiting.
“He will,” he confirms, voice unreadable. “But that doesn’t matter.” His eyes lift, meeting yours with something unshakable. “Because we’re meeting him tomorrow.”
The words settle like a weight in your chest.
You stiffen. “We are?”
“You don’t have to see him, sweetheart.”
Satoru’s voice is gentle but firm, his fingers tilting your chin up just enough to guide your gaze back to his. There’s something quietly resolute in the way he’s looking at you—something absolute.
“Me and Suguru will go,” his voice is unwavering, a promise wrapped in steel. “You don’t have to do a damn thing. Let us handle him.”
The finality in his tone settles over you like armor.
You inhale—slow, deep. The tension still lingers, an ache sitting heavy in your ribs, but it no longer feels crushing. It no longer feels insurmountable. Because you don’t have to do this alone.
You have them.
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a/n. ahhh, i hope you guys liked this chapter. it was very, very tough for me to write. i can't tell you how much i despise naoya—fucking gaslighting asshole, lol. i hope this gave you a glimpse of what y/n actually lived through. this is the reason she has a lot of issues—the difficulty trusting, reluctance to open up. with naoya, y/n had no voice—she was powerless. but satoru brings out the spark in her, rather than diminishing her flame, satoru nurtures it. i feel like i didn't even get to accomplish everything i wanted in this chapter 😅 but oh jeez, i couldn't do another 20k chapter. just know that there's still a lot i'm setting up for. i'm so excited for what's to come 🥹 also, y/n and satoru finally shared some intimacy, hehe. hope it was worth the wait for ya'll 🤭 remember, SLOW BURN. thanks so much for reading, and as always, i would really love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! the support with this fic floors me, every single time. i appreciate each and every one of my readers—THANK YOUUU💕 -aly → onto the next chapter ꨄ
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jeonginsleftcheek · 5 months ago
Text
Safe embrace
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pairing: lee felix x afab!reader
genre: fluff, smut, best friends to lovers
wc: 16k
synopsis: your toxic boyfriend leaves you just as you find out you're carrying his child, making your worst nightmare come true. thinking you have no one and you'll have to care for the baby alone, you're pleasantly surprised when your best friend swoops in to help you out.
warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of abuse and cheating, mentions of abortion (all in the beginning), pregnancy symptoms, crying, brief description of birth (nothing graphic)
nsfw warnings: multiple sex scenes, pregnant sex, nipple play, breeding kink, breastfeeding kink, oral (f and m), fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, felix is soft and obsessed
a/n: this was kind of inspired by this drabble i wrote! hope you enjoy the full fic💙 i never wrote pregnant reader and i wanted to write something mostly sweet🫶🏻
~ divider by @strangergraphics
~ masterlist
You were standing in front of your bathroom mirror shaking, the two little lines indicating that you were pregnant.
Your eyes welled up with tears, your worst fear had come true.
You were so close to getting out of your toxic relationship and now you were bound forever to the person who abused you and treated you like crap.
Anxiety took over your body as you started sobbing, he was going to come home from work soon and you had no idea how he'd react to the news.
Around 8pm he walked in, late as usual, you knew he was cheating on you but any time you tried to start a conversation with him, he'd find a way to spin it and make it seem like everything was your fault.
In the back of your mind, you knew it wasn't but three years of verbal abuse can do a lot to a person's way of thinking, and you were used to being figuratively smacked around by your boyfriend, always making excuses for him in your mind; he's exhausted from work, he didn't mean it, someone irritated him, he'll be better next time.
He never got physical, but sometimes you thought it was just a matter of time before he starts slapping you around.
It's not like you never tried to leave, you did.
But, he always found a way to manipulate you into coming back to him and like a fool you always fell for his empty promises.
This time, you decided it was the last time and you finally gathered all of the courage you had.
You were going to leave his sorry ass and never come back again, never fall for his lies again, never feel this miserable but now you felt you had no way out of this.
"What did you make for dinner?" he asked, not even sparing you a glance as he took his tie off.
"Chicken and rice." you answered.
"Good." he said as he continued to strip and you stood there nervously, playing with your fingers.
He lifted his head up and frowned at you.
"What are you waiting for? Serve me dinner, I'm hungry." he looked at you as if you were just a maid in his house and even though you wanted to tell him to put his own damn food on his plate, your tongue was twisted like always and your legs had a mind of their own.
You did what he asked, serving him dinner, before you sat on the other side.
He sat down and started eating. Your heart was beating fast as you kept looking at him.
"There's something I have to tell you." you decided to break the ice.
"What?" he asked, an unimpressed look on his face.
"I- I'm pregnant." you said quietly and he froze before his fork fell out of his hand, clattering against the plate.
Suddenly, he started laughing.
"You're shitting me, right?"
"No, I took a few tests and they're all positive."
He continued laughing and it was not the reaction you expected.
"Whatever. Get rid of it." he said, picking his fork back up and continuing to eat.
"What?" you looked at him in shock, your heart skipping a beat.
"You heard me. I'll pay for the abortion. I don't want to have a child with you." he said like you were the most disgusting thing he's ever seen.
"I'm- I don't want to get an abortion." you swallowed and he looked up at you.
"Well, I don't give a fuck about what you want. You will do as I say."
"No, I won't!" you stood up suddenly and he looked up at you before letting out a chuckle.
"Great, I was looking for a reason to do this." he said before standing up.
"D-do what?" you stuttered, taking a step back as fear washed over you.
"Get the hell out of my house." he crossed his arms and your lips parted.
"You're throwing me out?" your eyes widened.
"Yes, if you don't get rid of that thing, I want you out."
"But I have nowhere to go." your eyes filled up with tears, you had nothing of your own, your asshole boyfriend made sure he was the one to provide you with everything so you had to depend on him.
"Do I look like I care? You're good for nothing anyways. Can't even cook a decent meal and now you wanna have a baby? Ridiculous. The only thing you're good for is spending my money."
His words stung and everything around you started spinning, your head hurt and you had trouble breathing as you started panicking.
"You didn't let me work!" your voice raised as your eyes filled with tears.
He scoffed, coming closer to you as he grabbed your wrist and you yelled for him to let you go but he started dragging you towards the front door.
"I said get out bitch! I don't want anything to do with you and whatever is inside you. If you ever come near me again I'll fucking kill you!" he yelled as he opened the door, literally throwing you out before slamming the door in your face.
You couldn't believe he reacted this way, you thought he'd use your pregnancy to manipulate you even more but he did the opposite.
You really had nothing except your phone in your pocket, not even a jacket as you shivered in the cold night air. Tears kept sliding down your cheeks as you turned and started walking down the street. Your mind was blank for some time while you were trying to process everything that happened.
You reached for your phone and saw you had texts from Felix, your best friend. A smile spread on your face instantly, he was the only good thing in your life, the only light that shined on you in your darkest moments. You decided to call him and he picked up almost immediately.
"Oh, hey bubby! I was just about to text you." he answered cheerfully, as always.
"Lix." you sniffled. "Are you home?" you almost didn't recognize your voice, you sounded broken.
"Y/n, what's wrong?" Felix was worried instantly.
"Can you pick me up? Please?" you couldn't stop crying.
"Of course, tell me where you are and I will be there as soon as I can." he said, already getting up and grabbing his jacket.
You told him where you were and waited as you picked on your jeans.
Felix drove fast, finding you in less than ten minutes. His heart broke when he saw you hugging yourself and shivering without a jacket.
He ran out of his car fast and you looked up at him, fresh tears forming in your eyes. Felix took his jacket off without a word, wrapping you up in it before enveloping you in a hug.
"Shh, it's okay bubby. I'm here now." he soothed you with his warm deep voice, his hand moving in circles on your upper back.
"Let's get you warmed up, hm?" he leaned back to look at you and you nodded.
Felix turned up the heating in the car for you and the ride was silent as he drove you back to his apartment. Your mind started spinning as you stared out the window, all the possible scenarios passed you by and none of them seemed positive.
Felix led you to the couch, wrapping you up in a blanket and running to the kitchen to make you a cup of hot cocoa as you melted into the warm and soft fabric that was hugging you.
It smelled like Felix and it was comforting just like he always was.
"Careful, it's still hot." he smiled as he brought two cups of steaming hot cocoa, before sitting down next to you carefully.
"Was it him?" Felix asked with a serious expression on his face, referring to your, well now ex-boyfriend.
Felix never liked the guy, he could see right through his fake smiles and fake words. You never told him the extent of the abuse but he knew something was wrong.
"He threw me out of his house." you said, clutching onto the blanket and Felix's eyes widened.
"What? What the hell is wrong with him?!" Felix looked angry at that moment, his face becoming red and his hands clenching into fists.
"Because I'm pregnant." you finished, suddenly finding the white rug under the coffee table in Felix's living room interesting.
It was quiet for a while before you felt his hand on yours so you looked up at him and he wore the softest expression you've ever seen on your best friend's face.
"I'm so sorry, y/n."
"Well, it's not your fault. It's mine. I was dumb and let him control me, I should've left him sooner and now he dumped me and said he doesn't want me or the baby. Actually, he threatened me, telling me if I don't abort he will throw me out. And I told him that I'm keeping the baby..."
"First of all, you're not dumb, he is. I knew he was an asshole but I had no idea he was this sick. I can't believe he told you to abort, that's your decision to make anyways." Felix said and you sat quietly as he squeezed your hand.
Your eyes welled up with tears again.
"What am I gonna do now? I have nowhere to go."
Felix scooted closer to you.
"Wrong." he said with a smile and you looked at him. "You can stay here, with me."
"B-but I don't wanna impose on your privacy. And with a baby too..." you felt like a burden at that moment, like you were asking too much of Felix even though he was the one to offer it first.
"Nonsense. You're my best friend, you think I would leave you out on the street? You and your baby are more than welcome here. I will help you with everything you need and you can focus on growing a life." he smiled at you and you burst into tears.
"Y-you're an angel, Lixie." you sobbed as you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest. "Are you sure this is okay?"
"More than sure, bubs. You know I love you a lot?" he said, his eyes full of warmness as he smiled at you sweetly, caressing your head.
"I love you too, Lixie." you held him tightly.
"Now, drink your cocoa before it gets cold." he chuckled, handing you the cup.
You felt so blessed to have someone like him as a best friend and the horrible feelings that filled you up earlier were now in the back of your mind.
"You must be exhausted." Felix noticed as you kept sinking into the couch while you drank the cocoa and he yapped about his favorite games to get your mind off of everything.
"Actually, I am." you nodded.
"Are you hungry? I'll make dinner and you can take a nice hot shower." Felix smiled.
"I don't even have any clothes." your eyes welled up with tears again.
"You can wear mine. Don't worry about anything." he quickly shook his head and you nodded as he reached to touch your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb.
When you stepped into the shower, you were left with your thoughts again.
You thought about your life, your now ex boyfriend and how you let yourself get into this situation where you couldn't even help yourself and had to depend on someone else helping you.
And now you had a life growing inside you, your ex's words ringing in your head; how you're not capable of doing anything properly, not even cleaning or cooking let alone anything else, how are you going to take care of another human being?
You couldn't stop crying but you didn't want to worry Felix and stay in the shower for too long so you tried to dry your tears and look normal as you got dressed in the clothes he gave you.
Felix turned to look at you as you walked in and his heart hurt when he saw the redness in your eyes and your sad face, you've never looked this down before.
"I made some ramen. That was the fastest thing I could whip up but tomorrow we can go shopping for some groceries because you need to eat healthy from now on. Oh and you're gonna need to make a doctor's appointment. Don't worry, I'll go with you." he talked as he served dinner and you sat with your hands in your lap, crying quietly as your tears soaked the fabric of the shirt you were wearing.
"Y/n?" he leaned down to look at your face.
"I'm sorry, Felix. I just feel so bad." you sniffled.
"Hey, it's okay, really. I told you I don't mind taking care of you, in fact it makes me happy."
"It's not just that." you hiccuped as he sat next to you, grabbing your hands and rubbing circles with his thumbs.
"What is it?" he tilted his head at you.
"I don't think I will be any good at this." your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.
"What? Being a mom?" Felix frowned and you nodded.
"You're gonna be an amazing mom, y/n. I've known you almost my whole life and you're the most caring and responsible person I know. Look, I know everything seems terrifying right now, you just found out you're pregnant and your ex acted like an asshole so you're pretty shaken up. What you need is food and sleep. And to stop thinking about things that haven't even happened yet, hm?" Felix played with your fingers and you nodded, wiping your tears away.
"You're right, I can't even think straight right now. There is so many emotions inside me that I don't know where to start."
"Let's start with dinner." Felix smiled and you were amazed at how calm he seemed.
But on the inside, Felix was seething. He couldn't believe that your ex really had no heart, throwing you away like he did, especially when you're pregnant.
Felix was mad at himself in a way, he felt like he could've done something more to help you get out of the toxic relationship earlier and you wouldn't be as hurt as you are now.
He wished you chose him instead of your ex. Things would've been different then, Felix would treat you like a queen, the way you deserve it.
To you, Felix looked absolutely calm as he smiled at you but rage was bubbling up inside him along with the need to smash in your ex's face. But he held all that down for your sake, his top priority was to make you feel safe, not upset.
"I would give you the guest room to sleep in but it kind of became a storage room. So I'll have to get everything out and clean it up but in the meantime you can sleep in my room and I'll take the couch." Felix said after you got ready for bed.
"Oh, I can sleep on the couch, I don't wanna take your room too." you said, your face burning.
"No way, the couch is not comfortable." he shook his head.
"But isn't that gonna be bad for your back?" you worried instantly, knowing that your friend had back problems.
"I'll be okay for one night." he smiled.
"If you're sure." you chewed on your lip nervously.
"Of course."
Felix changed the sheets and prepared the couch as you barely stood on your feet, the exhaustion from the turmoil you felt washing over your body.
"Everything's gonna be okay, bubby." Felix said soothingly as he gave you a warm hug.
You didn't know what to say to thank him for everything he's doing, instead you just squeezed him tightly making him squeal and chuckle.
"Good night, y/n."
"Good night, Lixie."
As soon as your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep, drowning in the soft sheets and blankets.
Felix tossed and turned on his couch, mind racing with thoughts.
He thought about how much you meant to him, how much he had always loved you and wanted to be with you, but it was like you were blind to his love and instead kept running to your asshole ex.
He thought about how scared you must be, a protective feeling waking up inside him along with all the other feelings he had for you that he needed to learn how to suppress because you had a boyfriend.
Felix decided he was going to do his best to show you that love is supposed to be soft, comforting and sweet, not whatever your asshole ex made you believe.
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The next morning when you woke up, you were confused for a second until you rubbed your eyes and looked around.
Seeing you were in Felix's room, everything that happened last night came flooding back, some kind of fear washing over you but the fact that you were surrounded by Felix's comforting scent and his things managed to calm you down.
He always had this effect on you, that's why you kept one of his hoodies for years even though it didn't even smell like him anymore; it belonged to him and that was enough to comfort you.
Shit! Your things!, you remembered, your ex threw you out without giving you any of your clothes, your knick-knacks and most importantly your laptop.
You slowly got up, following the sounds of utensils that were coming from the kitchen.
As soon as you entered, you saw a very disheveled Felix running around the stove like a busy-bee.
The smell of eggs hit you and your stomach started rising up to your throat.
"Oh, good morning y/n." Felix turned to look at you just as you covered your mouth with your hand. His eyes widened as you turned around, running to the bathroom.
"Shit." Felix cursed under his breath, turning the stove off and running after you just in time as you leaned over the toilet.
He quickly gathered your hair in his hand as you threw up, his other hand moving in soothing circles on your upper back.
"Ew." you whimpered as your eyes teared up.
"Are you okay?" Felix asked cautiously when you flushed the toilet.
"The smell of eggs was too much. I didn't think this would start already." you groaned and Felix chuckled.
"Damn, my cooking sucks that bad, huh?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood and you giggled.
"We can work on that." you winked as he smiled at you.
"You know what? I will look up what's good for you to eat right now with the sickness and all, and I'll make it for you." he said.
"That's sweet, Lixie but I can make it myself, don't worry about it." you quickly shook your head.
Felix pouted at you before grabbing your face. Your heart skipped a beat.
"Listen to me. I enjoy taking care of you so let me do this for you."
"Fine." you sighed as you made your way back to the kitchen.
"Remember that time in high school when you got shitfaced?" Felix smirked at you, throwing the half-burnt eggs in the trash.
"Oh my god, please don't talk about that." embarrassment washed over you.
"Come on, we can laugh at it now. You were so funny, you couldn't even talk properly. And you tried to climb on the table and dance. I think if I didn't catch you, you'd probably break a bone or something." Felix snickered as he searched up some breakfast ideas on his phone.
"Ha ha, very funny that I almost got a concussion by being a lightweight." you rolled your eyes with a smile.
"Nah, I would've caught you before you hit the floor anyways." Felix smiled, making your stomach flutter.
"Hey, I have some of these things in my kitchen. Oats and almonds and such." he showed you a recipe he found and you nodded.
"I can make that too, it's no biggie." you started getting up but Felix shook his head.
"I know you can. But I want to do it for you."
You couldn't argue with him and he seemed genuinely happy about making you breakfast so you sat down and waited, playing with your fingers.
"You know, I remembered that I never had the chance to get all my stuff from my ex. My laptop is still at his place." you chewed on your lip.
"I'll get them." Felix said nonchalantly as the two of you ate.
"A-are you sure? He can be... an uncomfortable person." you grimaced and Felix chuckled.
"Bubby, I have a 3rd degree black belt in taekwondo. I could break him in half if I wanted to." he smirked, making you giggle.
"You're right, I forgot with how innocent you look." you teased and Felix laughed.
"All the better. He won't know what hit him." he sat up straight then made a few moves with his arms acting like he was cutting the air into pieces.
"Okay, just don't get in trouble, killer."
-
When Felix left to get your things, you decided to clean up the kitchen. You didn't want to feel like you were just waiting for him to do everything for you, you wanted to do your part and help him out when he took you in without even thinking twice.
Felix must be an angel, that's what you thought as you smiled to yourself while washing the dishes.
Your angel was currently parked in front of your ex's house, his hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the way he held onto it.
He was trying to calm his anger down, the one that surfaced as he thought about your disgusting boyfriend yelling at you and throwing you out into the cold night.
Felix had to walk in there with a cool demeanor, otherwise he would end up letting his anger get the best of him and he'd show the guy just who he had crossed.
After taking a few deep breaths, Felix finally made his way to the door and knocked. Shuffling could be heard from the other side before your ex opened the door, giving Felix the elevator eyes.
"Oh, you." the guy scrunched his nose up.
"I'm here to pick up y/n's things." Felix said calmly.
"Whatever, just do it quickly. It's junk anyways, you saved me the time I would lose throwing it out." he shrugged and Felix could feel the anger course through his veins but he had to bite his tongue.
He tried to gather all your stuff as quickly as he could, putting it in a bag he brought, making sure to take your laptop too. A small smile danced on his lips when he saw you still had his favorite hoodie. He grabbed it and put it in the bag too before turning around to leave the room.
"I'm assuming y/n ran to you immediately." your ex scoffed. "Makes sense, she's not capable of taking care of herself anyways."
Felix's eyes darkened.
"You better watch what you say." his voice dipped low.
"Or what?" your ex folded his arms on his chest, staring at Felix.
"Or you'll regret it."
"Ooh, I'm so scared!" he mocked as Felix made his way out of the house.
"Don't even think of coming near y/n again or trying to contact her. Matter of fact, I don't wanna hear you say her name ever again." Felix said and turned on his heel, not giving your ex time to respond as he frowned on the porch.
-
"I had no idea you kept my hoodie." Felix smiled as you rummaged through your things and your face heated up.
"Oh... Of course I did. It was a gift." you smiled back.
"Yeah, I remember that day like it was yesterday. We were at Jeongin's birthday party."
2 years ago
You had been invited to yours and Felix's mutual friend's party for his birthday. Getting your boyfriend to go with you was another story.
"Why do I have to go? I don't even know Jeongin well. And why would you want to go there alone? We should stay at home." he said.
"But Jeongin is my friend! He invited me and I already bought a gift."
"So what? You can just give it to him some other day. I was hoping we could stay in tonight." he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.
"B-but I really want to go." you said.
"Fine. Go. But there will be consequences."
"What?" your eyebrow lifted in shock. "What are you talking about?"
"If you want to find out, just go to the party." he smirked at you.
"I- Just... just come with me? Please?"
He looked at you, pursing his lips as he thought about it. There would be so many guys there, is what ran through his mind. He didn't think you were that pretty but a horny drunk guy would fuck anything that walks so he decided it would be best if he went just so he could keep an eye on you.
"Fine."
Unaware of his thougths, you squealed happily, giving him a hug.
But everything went wrong at the party. Your boyfriend thought you had lingered too much while hugging Jeongin, making his delusional mind come up with all sorts of scenarios of you cheating on him.
He got drunk and made a scene, calling you a cheap slut before he left the party, leaving you behind. You cried as you ran to the back porch, wanting to catch some fresh night air in hopes of calming down.
"Hey, you okay?" it was Felix, who followed after you.
"Not really." you sighed, wiping your tears away as you shivered.
He noticed you were cold so he took off his hoodie.
"Here, you can have it." he smiled sweetly at you, making you melt instantly as you thanked him.
"You know you can do so much better than him, right?" Felix asked as you drowned in the warmth his hoodie provided.
"We all have our flaws, Lix. He's not that bad. He'll realize he was wrong and apologize to me once he's sober." you shrugged.
"Are you sure? Because if he-"
"Lix, it's fine really. You don't have to worry."
Of course it wasn't fine, the whole relationship kept spiralling downwards after that, bringing you to your current situation.
"Y/n?" Felix brought you out of your thoughts as you clutched onto his hoodie.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I got distracted." you smiled and he smiled back at you. "Lixie, thanks for being there for me always. I know I kind of ignored you lately but my ex didn't like me talking to other guys."
"What an insecure pig." Felix said and you chuckled. "But of course, I told you I'd always be there for you. Now, I'm gonna clean out the guest room and then we can call to make a doctor's appointment, does that sound good?"
"Yeah, sounds perfect. Do you need me to help?"
"No, it's all heavy stuff i have to move." Felix shook his head so you offered to make lunch.
While you were making it, you remembered what your ex said.
'Can't even cook a decent meal and now you wanna have a baby? Ridiculous.'
Your eyes watered instantly and you quickly wiped off the falling tears, continuing to cut veggies. You heard Felix moving around stuff and grunting as you cooked, humming to yourself.
"All done." he came into the kitchen with his hair messy and a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.
Something stirred in your gut for a moment but you ignored it.
"I'm almost done too. The smell of the meat is bothering me a little." you said and Felix gasped.
"Oh, let me finish up then." he quickly made his way to you.
"Maybe you should shower first." you took a step back from him and he pouted.
"Are you calling me stinky?"
"Mhm." you grimaced and he laughed.
"Fine, I get it. Be back in 5 minutes." he practically ran out of the kitchen and you let out a breath you were holding.
It wasn't that the scent of him made your stomach rise, quite the opposite, he suddenly smelled even nicer to you than before and once he came closer you felt it in your core. You scolded yourself for thinking about Felix like that and tried to ignore it as you finished up lunch.
When Felix came back, his hair still damp from the shower you looked at him in anticipation as he sat down to eat. Anxiety washed over you as you expected to be chastised for being a lousy cook even though you know in your heart Felix would never say something like that.
"Mm, this is delicious. I must say, I don't eat very healthily since I work a lot and this is refreshing." he smiled at you and relief took over.
"Thank you, I'm glad you like it." you smiled back at him.
After lunch, you called to make a doctor's appointment and Felix had some work to do on his computer, luckily he was mostly working from home as a programmer, only going to the office twice a week or more if needed for a project.
"I hope the bed is comfy enough." Felix said as you were getting ready to sleep in the guest room, which was now your room.
"Lixie, please, I'm grateful to have a bed at all." you sighed and he grabbed your hand.
"We'll get through this." he whispered and you nodded.
"I know."
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A few days later, Felix and you walked out of the hospital with news that you were 6 weeks pregnant and that thankfully the baby was doing well.
"See, you had nothing to worry about." Felix smiled at you as the two of you got in his car.
But your emotions got the better of you immediately as you started crying.
"Oh, y/n?! What's wrong?" he leaned towards you, worry evident in his voice.
"I don't know, I- I think I'm crying from relief." you sniffled and Felix smiled at you fondly. "Let's just go home." you added, not even realizing that you called his apartment 'home'.
But Felix did, and his stomach filled up with butterflies that wouldn't stop flying around his insides until he parked in front of the building.
"I'm not feeling the best." you clutched at your stomach as you walked in, the feeling of nausea taking over your body. It was exhausting but you kept trying to remind yourself that this was just a phase, the worst part of it and that it will get better with time.
Some days it worked, other days it was unbearable. Today seemed to be one of those other days as your emotions were all over the place.
"Okay, go lay down and I will make some lunch."
Felix took it all so seriously, stepping up immediately as if it was his baby which made your heart clench in your chest. He made sure you were comfortable, brought you some tea and crackers for nausea, even pressed his lips on your forehead as he tucked you in.
When he left the room, tears started sliding down your cheeks and soaking your pillow.
You felt like you didn't do anything to deserve someone like Felix taking you in, and the burden of a baby that had nothing to do with him and you had no idea why he would go to such lengths to make you feel good. Yes, of course you knew that he cared about you but you felt beyond grateful and humble, trying to think of a way to give back.
But, Felix saw this as a second chance with you. A chance he would not let go to waste like he did before, when he held his tongue and his feelings back, never even hinting to you how much he loves you. It was enough for him that you were there and that everything was fine with you and the baby, the rest was not as important.
"I can't believe you're actually pregnant." Felix chuckled as the two of you chilled on the couch after dinner, some romantic comedy playing on tv.
"I can't believe it either." you chuckled with him. "I think it'll be more believeable when I start looking the part." you added and Felix froze for a moment.
How could he forget?
He'd already noticed your breasts getting bigger and he felt bad for the way he kept stealing glances at them all the time, but at the end of the day he's just a man.
It wasn't his fault that they looked rounder, and that you didn't care to wear a bra next to him, your nipples poking under the material of your shirt constantly, the way they swayed or jiggled with any movement you made.
Felix felt his dick twitch and he started beating himself up immediately. It's barely been two weeks since you were at his place, and he knew you were vulnerable and the last thing he would want to do was to make you feel like he was pouncing on you instantly.
God, he got so used to keeping his feelings and urges about you to himself, why was that so hard all of a sudden?
"Excuse me." Felix stood up rather quickly and you looked up at him shortly, watching him scramble to get to the bathroom.
You shrugged, continuing to watch the movie as you snuggled closer to the spot he was lounging in, the couch still warm and smelling like the body wash he used earlier. For some reason, you wanted to roll in it but you settled on stealing his spot and taking deep breaths.
Felix was trying to exercise deep breathing too, as he stood in the bathroom, willing his cock to soften up. Just the thought of you being all round and cute had him so worked up. How is he supposed to survive this?
Somehow, he managed to calm down and when he came back to the living room, his heart fluttered when he saw you dozing off in his spot.
"Bubby? You wanna sleep?" he said quietly, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear gently.
"Mm." you mumbled, half asleep.
"Cutie." Felix chuckled fondly before he gently lifted you up and carried you to your room.
"Lixie." you reached out for him blindly as he laid you down.
"It's okay, I'm here. Get some rest." he caressed your head before going back to the living room.
Your dreams were filled with images of your best friend that night, fleeting pictures of a relationship that never happened appeared in your mind, ending with the two of you holding a baby in your arms.
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Couple of weeks later, you and Felix fell into a nice rhythm. He was mostly home, only having to go to the office twice a week, sometimes four days if he was working on a bigger project. You were glad he was there because your nausea has gotten worse and Felix didn't mind helping you out as always, cooking and cleaning together with the work he was doing.
You felt bad for that again, crying to him how you feel like you're not doing anything in the house and Felix was quick to shut all those thoughts down.
"Y/n, you are growing a literal human being. That's exhausting, your body is changing rapidly and you're scared. And that's normal and it's okay." Felix held you in his arms.
"How are you so understanding?" you hiccuped as you gripped his shirt, soaking it with your tears.
Because I love you.
Because I wanna make you happy.
Because you deserve this and more.
"I've been reading some books." Felix smirked playfully instead of saying all the other thoughts that crossed his mind at first.
You looked up at him before bursting into laughter, smacking his chest as he giggled at you.
It was getting harder for him every day, living with you and being together 24/7 felt so domestic, especially with you being pregnant and Felix kept daydreaming that the baby inside you was his baby too.
It didn't help that your tits just kept getting bigger and that you finally had a little bump to indicate the precious life growing inside you and Felix was obsessed with the way it looked on you.
You were slowly coming to terms with it, everything felt so surreal because it was happening so fast and you knew that even though it seems hard and exhausting right now, the baby would come very soon and then the real work will begin.
You spent a lot of time looking at your body in the mirror, checking it out and trying to accept that you were changing forever. It was hard but Felix was there for you, taking care of you, never missing a doctor's appointment, cooking for you, his arms always open to take you into his embrace where you felt the safest.
You had no idea how you'd get through all this if it wasn't for him, so when he left to work at the end of the week, you decided to make him a chocolate cake as a thank you even though you knew the pastry wasn't enough for what he was doing for you and your baby.
You were glad you woke up feeling somewhat less nauseous that day so you could function normally. Baking the cake proved to be fun as you blasted some music and enjoyed making something sweet for Felix.
"Bubby, I'm home!" he yelled out as he walked in around 4pm, while you were cleaning up in the kitchen.
"Hey, Lixie." you smiled at him as he came into the kitchen.
"How are you feeling?" he made his way to you, his arms wrapping around you automatically.
"Good, actually." you melted in his embrace as he held you from behind, his hand sliding down to caress your tummy. It was comforting when he touched you like that.
"Something smells nice." Felix chuckled, burying his face in your hair and you could feel the tip of his nose brushing against your neck. Goosebumps appeared on your skin as you pressed your body back into his without even realizing it.
"I baked you a cake." you said, not noticing the way Felix's breath hitched when your backside pressed into his middle.
"You did?" he asked happily, moving away from you because he was moments away from losing his mind.
"Mhm, chocolate, your favorite." you said as you walked over to the fridge to take it out.
"You spoil me, bubby." he grabbed your face, kissing the tip of your nose.
You were so close to grabbing his shirt, pulling him into you and kissing his sweet, inviting lips.
"You should eat lunch first. Dessert later." you said and Felix chuckled.
"I ate at work. I want my treat." he pouted, acting all sulky and you couldn't resist his adorable face.
You cut two pieces and the two of you sat down.
Felix dug in immediately, you knew he always had the biggest sweet tooth and he baked you his brownies hundreds of times so you wanted to show your appreciation.
"Mm, I love it!" he smiled happily and your heart fluttered as he munched on the cake cutely.
"Really? Is it better than your brownies?" you smirked, teasing him and he coughed a little before smirking back at you.
"Let's not go that far." he teased back and you smacked his arm playfully as he chuckled.
Fridays were always reserved for movie night and cuddles so later that evening Felix and you were settled on the couch together.
You noticed he looked tired and kept touching his neck, grunting under his breath quietly.
"Are you in pain?" you asked and his eyes widened a little before he looked at you.
"Oh, it's nothing. I just didn't have any time to stretch today because we had this big project to finish up before weekend. Basically, my neck and shoulders are on fire but it'll pass, it always does." Felix shrugged, waving it away with his hand like it was nothing.
"Lixie, let me give you a massage. I wanna help." you offered, having no idea that the thought of your hands on him like that had Felix twitching.
"No, it's fine really. You don't need to do that, I'll just sleep it off."
"Nonsense, come on." you motioned with your hands and Felix nodded, not wanting to upset you as he turned around.
He took a deep breath in, trying to calm down as you gathered his hair out of the way, your fingertips brushing against his sensitive neck and ears, making him shiver.
A blush appeared on his freckled cheeks, spreading to the tips of his ears and down to his neck as you sat closer to him, your legs around his frame as you put your hands on his shoulders.
"You're so tense." you snickered quietly, your breath hitting his skin.
"Ha... yeah, well I was sitting at my desk all day." Felix bit his lip, shutting his eyes tightly as you started to massage him.
"Jeez, relax. You're so stiff." your gripped his shoulders, trying to roll them back a little and he laughed nervously.
"Oh you have no idea." he said and you furrowed your brows, shaking your head as you continued giving him a massage.
He managed to relax after some time as you worked your magic on his neck and shoulders. It was so quiet around you that the action felt so intimate and you found yourself scooting closer to Felix. His neck looked pretty and inviting and suddenly you just wanted to press your lips on his skin.
And that's exactly what you did as you leaned in, mindlessly pressing your lips on the back of his neck.
Felix nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to look at you, his face red as a tomato.
"What was that for?" he swallowed and you chuckled embarrassingly, playing with your hands.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I- I just leaned in and-"
"No, it's fine." Felix saw that you were getting upset immediately, your mood swings getting the better of you lately. "Just wasn't expecting it."
"Is you neck better?" you asked, ignoring the way your face burned.
"Oh yes, definitely. Thank you for that, bubby." he smiled at you and you felt warmness spreading inside your chest.
-
Felix laid in his bed restless. He couldn't stop thinking about your touches and the way you kissed his neck. He couldn't help it as his hand wandered down to his boxers, gripping his bulge before he started palming himself.
"Fuck." he grunted quietly, biting down on his arm as he pushed his underwear down just enough to take his leaking cock out and wrap his fingers around it.
He felt dirty for it but his mind swam with thoughts of you as he sped up, trying to finish as quickly as he could. He checked up on you earlier and you looked so sweet while sleeping soundly, he knew you felt safe with him and that was his number one goal.
He wanted nothing more than to make you feel comfortable and relaxed, to make you feel good. He wished he could cross the line and bring you pleasure the way you deserve it. With how selfish your ex was, Felix doubted he ever made any effort around you in that area too.
His mind wandered to your body then, specifically to your chest and he imagined himself sucking on your sweet nipples and that was enough to make Felix snap as he twitched and came all over his hand and abs.
He gasped, riding his high, his eyes teary.
After cleaning up quickly, he laid back in bed and fell asleep fast, trying not to think about the fact that he just touched himself to the thought of you.
-
"Lixie?" you gently knocked on his door before opening it, tears sliding down your cheeks.
"Felix?" you slowly made your way to his bed and he groaned in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open.
"Y/n?" his voice was deep and scratchy as he squinted at you. "What's wrong?" he sat up when he noticed you were crying.
"I had a nightmare." you sniffled and his expression softened as he lifted up his blanket.
"Come here, bubby." he invited you in and you plopped down in his bed, settling your back against him. It wasn't the first time you cuddled like that but you haven't shared a bed in so long, not since you started dating your ex.
Felix wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his body gently, nuzzling his face in your hair and the back of your neck.
Goosebumps rose on your skin as he caressed you gently, his hand landing on your tummy.
"Wanna talk about it?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin.
"N-no. It was about my ex and I don't wanna give him any more attention that he doesn't deserve."
"He's not gonna hurt you or your baby. And if he tries I will fucking kill him, so don't worry about him sweetheart." Felix held you a bit more tightly, but was still careful with your tummy.
"Lixie. I love you." you kissed his hand as your fingers entwined and he smiled.
"I love you too, bubby. More than you know."
And with that you fell asleep in Felix's safe embrace.
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After that night, you had a hard time falling asleep alone; Felix's body warmth and his comforting presence lulled you to sleep so you sneaked into his bed.
Eventually, Felix told you that you can just sleep in his bed freely every night and you were more than happy to do that.
He loved having you close, but there was a battle inside him, having to resist the craving he had for you was harder than he thought it'd be. Especially when he'd wake up in the morning and watch you sleep so soundly.
It was one of those morning where he woke up first and watched you. Your belly was bigger now along with your breasts and Felix thought you looked adorable. He was admiring you, how strong you are, after everything your ex put you through and left you alone with a baby you were taking it so well. You never complained about anything, even if you were in pain but Felix knew you too well so you couldn't hide it from him.
He wanted to make your pregnancy as comfortable as he could, the thought of you suffering made his chest hurt. Felix caressed you gently as he thought about you and how much he loves you. He couldn't help himself, the emotions that have been building up even more now that you were here and so vulnerable with him started overflowing his heart, traveling through his veins and spreading through his body.
Warmness enveloped him as his cheeks burned and he leaned in, pressing gentle kisses on your cheek, down to your jaw and neck.
You stirred a little but didn't wake up as his lips touched your skin, his hand caressing your belly.
"L-Lixie?" you muttered, still half asleep.
"Bubby." Felix grabbed your face as you turned to look at him, your eyes fluttering open just in time when he leaned down and pressed his lips on yours. You gasped a little, but still kissed back as he moved his plump lips against yours.
Your heart picked up speed and you were shocked that he was kissing you out of nowhere but at the same time it was so comforting and sweet to feel his lips against yours. Felix started letting go of everything he held back, his hands slowly sliding on your arms down to your waist and belly before resting on your hips.
He licked at your lips with his tongue and you let him in, your entire body burning up. You haven't been touched passionately since forever and being pregnant meant you were extra sensitive plus it was Felix. He was your everything.
He overwhelmed you with his scent, his warmth, his touch and you melted into the sheets as his tongue massaged yours, his hands grabbing at your plushy thighs.
You gasped for air once he leaned away, looking at you with hooded eyes.
"Lixie, w-what..."
"Shh, bubby. Will you let me worship you?" he licked at his lips as his darkened eyes ran all over your body, lingering on your breasts.
"B-but... My body doesn't look the best right now. Pregnancy did things to me like stretchmarks a-and-"
"Y/n, you look fucking beautiful. Let me show it to you." he persisted and you nodded, your heart skipping a beat in excitement.
Felix leaned down to kiss you again before his lips traveled to your jaw and neck. He licked at your sensitive spot, biting the skin and sucking on it, eliciting a small moan out of your lips.
His hands slid up to cup your breasts and you whimpered as he squeezed gently, running his thumbs on your sensitive nipples.
"Wow." he lifted up and stared at them, pressing them together and you chuckled. Felix's face became red as you looked at him intently while he played with your nipples.
He gripped the end of your shirt and you nodded so he took it off, his mouth practically watering at the sight of your body. You were left only in your panties and he could already see a wet patch appearing on them.
Felix stared at you making you feel self-conscious for a moment, your arms coming up in an attempt to hide yourself.
"Don't hide, bubby. You look perfect." he gave you a small smile, his hands on your breasts again.
"Lixie." you whispered as your breath got caught in your throat.
"Mm, they're so big." he leaned in closer to your chest. "Please." he whimpered as he massaged them gently.
"Okay. Just be gentle." you said quietly.
"Of course." he said before running his tongue over your sensitive bud.
You whimpered, instantly feeling a wave of hotness run through your body, your pussy dripping and soaking your already damp panties. Felix wrapped his pretty lips around your nipple and started sucking, his eyes fluttering shut in delight as he moaned around you.
You were getting incredibly wet, probably because of your hormones, you were more turned on than ever, your pussy throbbing for to be touched.
"L-Lix." you whined as he gently kissed your breasts, alternating between massaging them and sucking on them.
His hands slid over your belly and he smiled at you.
"You're so beautiful. And strong. You know that?" he said and your eyes watered.
"Stop praising me, I'm gonna cry." you answered, feeling sensitive everywhere.
"If it's happy tears then they're welcome." Felix pressed a kiss on your belly as he rubbed your thighs, his fingers tracing your stretchmarks.
"Is this okay?" he asked and you nodded.
He looked at your bump, almost going cross-eyed from the closeness of it and you stifled a laugh.
"Sorry baby, close your eyes and ears now." he grimaced and you let out a chuckle.
"Gotta make mommy feel good." Felix smirked at you, his hand coming closer to you panties.
He ran his middle finger on your folds and you whimpered, shivering instantly.
"So wet for me, hm?" he looked smug and your legs shook for a moment as you nodded.
"Take them off, please." you whined quietly.
"Anything you want, my sweetheart." Felix said before hooking his fingers in your underwear and sliding it down. He threw it somewhere behind him, his eyes fixed on your pretty pussy.
His brows furrowed as he brought his finger between your folds, going up and down slowly, spreading the wetness on your clit and pressing into it in circular motions. You were so sensitive that you couldn't contain your moans or your middle chasing his touch and Felix observed you, how quickly you were unraveling because of his touch.
"Can I taste you, bubby?" he gave you his puppy eyes and you giggled.
"Sure." you could never say no to that face.
Felix leaned in, the tip of his tongue licking at your clit immediately and you moaned loudly, your hand flying to his hair. He groaned when you gripped the blonde strands, encouraging him to taste you further. He let his tongue slip between your folds as he closed his eyes, enjoying your pussy like it was his last meal ever.
Your legs were shaking, automatically trying to close around his head which you couldn't even see properly because of your bump. You gripped his hair harder as you lifted up a little to see his face, his eyes closed as he kept moaning into you, looking all blissed out giving you pleasure like that.
It made you even more wet to see him enjoying it, his nose brushing against your clit perfectly as he made out with your pussy, pushing his tongue as deep as it can go, fucking you with it while he gripped your thighs.
"I'm- I'm close!" you whimpered, pulling on his hair harshly and making his eyes roll back in his head.
"Cum for me, bubby." Felix groaned, his deep voice even deeper in his arousal as he kept devouring you.
"L-Lix! Lixie!" you almost pulled all his hair out as you gripped hard, your legs closing around his head while you painted his face in your release.
Felix loved it, loved that he made you feel so good that you fell apart against him.
"Mm..." he lapped you up as you shook from your intense orgasm.
"Need more." you whispered, feeling like you were out of your mind in that moment.
"Of course, beautiful. Tell me what you need." Felix hovered over you, ready to make any wish you have come true.
"Y-your fingers." you moaned and he smirked, bringing the tips of his fingers on your folds.
"My fingers? How many?"
"Two." you answered quietly as he kept smirking.
"As you wish." Felix ran them on your wetness before slowly pushing them in. You moaned, gripping at the sheets instantly as you took in the way he looked, all disheveled and worked up from tasting you. A shiver ran down your spine as he pushed in, your pussy taking his fingers with no resistance.
"Fuck, what a good girl you are." Felix groaned as he started moving his fingers inside you, the wet sounds made your ears red in embarrassment.
"Oh you like that?" he smirked as you clenched around him. "You like being called a good girl?"
"Yes." you moaned out, pushing up into his hand as he started fucking you faster, the tips of his fingers finding that special spot quickly.
"What about my good girl?" he emphasized, making you clench around him yet again so he sped up, the force of his arm making you shake.
"Y-yes! Oh my god!" your legs shook as he started quickly flicking his fingertips over your clit while pounding into your sweet spot.
You were starting to see stars as you moaned loudly, and Felix leaned in to suck on your nipple, making it the last straw before you clenched around him and squirted all over his hand.
"Oh." you gasped as Felix looked at you.
"That's so hot." he groaned.
"Lixie, please." you felt like your mind was gone and all you could think about was his cock filling you up.
"Mm?"
"Please, fuck me." you gripped at his arm and he chuckled.
"Never thought I'd hear my sweet bubby say something so dirty." he chuckled and you smacked his arm, feeling annoyed and needy.
"Never thought this could happen but here we are." you said, pulling him closer with your legs.
Felix chuckled as he took off his underwear, now completely naked and you looked down, mouth watering at the sight of his pretty dick, all hard and leaking just for you.
He saw the way you were looking at it so he pressed his tip on your folds, massaging them a little before slowly pushing his tip in.
"Ah!" you moaned, gripping at the sheets as Felix stretched you, slowly filling you up until he bottomed out.
"You feel perfect around me, bubby." Felix groaned as he leaned down to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.
Your legs wrapped around him and you brought him as close to you as you could.
"Just be careful." you whispered and he smiled, caressing you face as he looked at you lovingly.
"Always." his hands slid down to your hips as he leaned up and started moving inside you slowly, dragging his cock against your velvety walls and making you feel every inch of him claiming you.
Felix hated the fact that your ex had you like this when he didn't deserve to have you at all. He hated that it was your asshole ex who gave you a baby instead of him, the ultimate connection between two lovers.
But when Felix looked down at your face, the way you stared up at him like he hung the stars in the sky, little moans escaping your lips as you gripped at his arms, your tits jiggling with every movement of his hips and your cute baby bump, his heart softened.
He was going to love this baby as if it was his own.
Felix continued fucking you, making you cum three more times as you shook from overstimulation, begging him to just cum inside you.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his cock twitching at the thought.
"Well, I'm already pregnant, we're clean and it's not harmful so yes." you said as he slowed down, trying to keep himself sane.
"Fuck, you really want my cum inside you, hm?" he gripped your hips as he fucked you faster and your pussy clenched around his length.
"Yes- please!" you almost screamed out, your legs holding him in a death grip as he drilled his cock into your fucked out pussy.
"You're so cute like this. But I still wish I could breed this sweet little pussy." he groaned and you gasped.
"Felix!" you couldn't hold it in, squirting around his length as he grunted and fucked you harder.
"Fuck, you like that, huh?" he grabbed your breasts, both of you losing your minds completely.
"Ah yes, please breed me Lixie!" you begged and that was enough to push Felix over the edge as he spilled his hot seed inside you.
You dug your nails into his arms as the two of you rode your high together. Felix slowly pulled out of you, the sight of you laid out under him with his cum dripping out of your spent pussy made him grunt.
"So pretty." he ran his fingers on your folds, gathering his cum and pushing it back in.
"S-sensitive." you whimpered and he pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his lips as he licked at them.
"Wait a sec." Felix then got up as you stared at him, your entire body tingling in bliss. He came back with a warm wet cloth to clean you up, smiling at you the entire time as he kept caressing your soft skin.
"W-what now?" nervousness washed over you and Felix giggled as he tossed the cloth aside before leaning over you, his hands cupping your cheeks.
"I love you, that's what." he said, rubbing his nose against yours.
"I love you too, Lixie but... the baby, I don't wanna be a burden to you." suddenly your eyes teared up as sadness washed over you. "It's not even your responsibility to care about my baby."
He quickly shook his head, running his thumbs on your cheeks and catching your tears.
"You and your baby will never be a burden, because I love them as if they were mine. Maybe it's not my responsibility, but it's my pleasure." he said as he pressed gentle kisses on your lips.
"R-really? You wanna help me raise my baby?" your lips trembled as more tears raced down your cheeks.
"Of course, I wanna be here for you and the baby one hundred percent. I- I've always loved you, y/n. I beat myself up every day for not stepping in when your ex was basically holding you captive and abusing you."
"It's not your fault, Lix. I was dumb and naive, I was blind. He fed me sweet lies and I believed him, there was nothing you could say back then that would make me leave. I was stuck." you sat up, grabbing his hands in yours.
"I still feel like I should've protected you." he sighed.
"You're here now." you reassured him with a genuine smile and he searched your eyes for a moment before his face broke into the signature smile that reaches his eyes and warms up your soul.
"I am. And I don't plan on going anywhere." Felix leaned in to kiss you lovingly before pulling you into a hug, his hand caressing your head soothingly.
"I'm scared, Lixie." you whispered as you held onto him.
"Of what?" he asked as he kissed your temple.
"All of this. The baby, I'm almost half-way through my pregnancy and they're coming soon. I'm actually gonna be someone's mom."
"You're gonna be a wonderful mom, bubby. And you won't be doing any of it alone, I'm with you every step of the way." Felix said and the dam broke as you started crying again.
"I love you so much, Lixie." you held onto him like he was your lifeline.
"I love you more." Felix said as he kissed you and though you couldn't know exactly how he felt on the inside, you believed him.
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Sitting at the doctor's office as Felix squeezed your hand, you anticipated the news you've been waiting to hear for some time now.
"Congratulations, you have a perfectly healthy baby girl." the doctor smiled at you as you gasped.
"Oh." your heart swelled, now you could start making a list of names and imagine yourself with your daughter.
"That's wonderful news! Thank you, doctor." Felix smiled as you sat there speechless, thinking about the precious life growing inside you.
"Are you okay, bubby?" Felix asked as you were silent while walking to his car.
"Just realized this is becoming more real every day. Now I can imagine myself with her, I can give her a name. I'm happy." you concluded and Felix chuckled as he caressed your cheek.
"I'm happy too." he pecked your lips. "How about we go on a date to celebrate tonight?"
"Sure, I'd love that." you nodded with a smile.
Felix and you have been officially dating for a few weeks now, and you felt so safe and relaxed with him, craving his presence more and more every day.
Of course he took you out on dates, the two of you took romantic strolls in the park, bringing some food to have a picnic there, you went to the movies and sat in the love seat, cuddling the entire time and hit the best cafés in town but you never went on a fancy date.
You had one pretty dress you were saving up for a nice occasion, it hung in the back of your closet in the guest room. You had no idea if you could even put it on now but you were willing to try.
Luckily the material was stretchy and you only filled it up more, your breasts almost spilling out of it and you chuckled to yourself, knowing Felix will definitely appreciate the sight.
"Bubby, are you ready?" you heard him yell from the living room.
"Be right there!" you yelled back, looking at your reflection one more time. You were satisfied with the way you looked, pregnancy glow was a real thing and Felix kept reminding you how beautiful everything about you is every single day, adding on to the smile on your face.
"Oh, sweetheart." Felix's eyes widened when you walked into the living room.
"Is it okay?" you asked, fidgeting with your bag.
"Okay?" he chuckled. "You're absolutely breathtaking." he came closer to you, his hands sliding on your hips to your waist and belly as he caressed it gently.
He smirked suddenly, his hands cupping your breasts.
"Lixie." you chuckled, smacking his arm with your little bag and he laughed.
"Sorry, I just wanna rub my face there." he bit on his lip. "One squeeze?" Felix pouted at you cutely, batting his long eyelashes, the little menace.
"Just one." you warned and he nodded, gripping your breasts as he leaned in to kiss you roughly, his tongue swirling around yours hungrily.
When he leaned back you were breathless.
"Let's go or we will never leave." you chuckled.
"Fine." he whined playfully as the two of you made your way out.
-
Dinner was fun, finally sharing a nice meal out with Felix felt so rewarding as the two of you reminisced of high school and college days.
You realized he was there with you the entire time, he never insulted you, never yelled at you, never made you feel less than, he always made you feel so truly happy, always thinking of your needs and preferences. You've never met a man like Felix and you were thankful to have him in your life.
You wanted to show him how thankful you were as soon as you got home, your hormones were raging lately and you were constantly horny which was fun for the both of you (maybe not for the baby).
Felix was so cute to you, always hovering over you with his adorable smile and silly antics, he was like a little kitten rubbing against you whenever he could.
That was the case as soon as you sat down on the couch, he nuzzled his face between your breasts immediately.
"Mm." he sighed happily, rubbing his cheek against you as he placed his hand on your tummy.
"Having a good time?" you chuckled, caressing his head and he nodded.
"Let me make it even better."
You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours as you kissed him. Felix melted into you instantly, his hands on your breasts like always as he squeezed them and played with your nipples gently.
You gripped his hair, leaning his head back as you started kissing his neck and Felix whined deeply, the sound creating vibrations against your lips.
You kept kissing him, your hands roaming on his abs as you pushed them under his shirt, before sliding your hand down and gripping his bulge.
"Y/n." Felix moaned against your lips.
You smirked, leaning back as you unbuckled his pants and slowly slid down to your knees between his legs.
Felix gasped in shock, hands flying to grab your shoulders instantly.
"What are you doing?!"
"Showing you my appreciation." you kept smirking.
"Bubby please, you don't have to do that. I don't want you to kneel if it's uncomfortable or painful."
"Felix. I'm pregnant, not made of glass." you chuckled as you palmed him and you could see him losing his resolve as he melted under your touch.
"F-fine but if it's too much, stop any time. Don't think you have to do that to appreciate me." he gave you a small smirk as he cupped your chin. "It's enough when you lay all pretty for me and let me worship you." he added and you almost moaned out loud as your pussy clenched, slick gathering on your already soaked panties.
"I know but I wanna worship you too." you said, your voice becoming raspy from arousal.
"I won't stop you." he snickered as he lifted his hips so you could strip him.
You licked your lips at the sight of his cock, hooking your arms under his thighs as you brought him closer to the edge of the couch. Felix squealed from the strength you pulled him with, his cock twitching when your breath hit the leaky tip.
You leaned in closer as you wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, your tongue on his slit, catching the beads of precum and savoring the salty taste of him. Felix held onto the the edge of the couch, nails digging into the material as you swirled your tongue around his tip before wrapping your lips around him. He groaned, his eyes full of lust as he looked down at you and you kept your eyes on him, taking more of his length in and enjoying the feeling of his hardness on your tongue.
Felix was holding back, you saw the way he was biting on his lip, his breaths ragged as he fisted at the couch cover. You slid down more, bobbing your head up and down slowly as you reached out to grab his hand. You placed his hand on your head as you moaned around him, encouraging him to relax and enjoy.
He let out a moan as he gripped your hair, your eyes fluttering shut as you sped up on his cock, fondling his sensitive balls with your hand.
"Mm, y/n." Felix groaned and you looked up at him. His was was flushed, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, his lips swollen because he was biting on them the entire time. Your pussy clenched at the sight of him as you continued sucking on him, determinded to make him cum in your mouth.
"Oh my god, bubby!" Felix exclaimed, his hips moving up on their own accord, his legs shaking as you bobbed your head up and down faster. He pulled on your hair making you moan around him and you gripped his balls, massaging them while your tongue swiped over the vein on his pretty cock.
"I-I'm gonna cum!" he tried to pry you off but you swatted his hand away, your brows furrowed as you whined, sliding down until your nose was buried in his pubes, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.
"Shit!" Felix twitched, groaning loudly as he spilled his hot seed down your throat and you swallowed every single drop.
You leaned back, releasing his dick with a pop and pressing a little kiss on the tip as you caressed his thighs.
"Give me a sec." he leaned back on the couch, breathing hard and squeezing his eyes shut a few times in an attempt to come to his senses.
"You okay?" you giggled.
"Ruined. But perfect. Thank you for that." he sat up, grabbing your face and caressing your cheeks.
"You're amazing, you know that?" he added and you chuckled.
"I know. Now help me get up." you said and he gasped, quickly scrambling to stand up.
"Are your knees okay?" Felix panicked immediately and you smiled at him.
"They're fine, the rug is soft." you answered and he let out a breath.
"Good. Now, let's go to our room so I can return the favor." he smirked.
-
"We should buy some baby stuff soon." Felix said as he caressed you. You were lying on your side, the only comfortable position now, a pillow between your knees as Felix spooned you.
"Mhm. Maybe we could go shopping tomorrow."
"Yes. I was thinking... We can make the guest room into a baby room." he said, pressing a kiss to your neck.
You turned slightly to look at him, your heart fluttering.
"Really? You would do that?" you asked, your eyes teary instantly.
"I would do anything for you and your baby." he whispered with a sweet smile on his face.
"Our baby." you whispered back and his eyes widened for a moment before he chuckled happily.
"I love you so much, y/n." he kissed you gently.
"And I love you, baby." he added, sliding down to kiss your belly as you giggled.
"We love you too, Lixie."
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Entering your third trimester, you were a mess. The mood swings were strong and you felt so emotional all of the time and that coupled with the pain in your body made you cry one afternoon while Felix was at work.
You kept thinking about him and how sweet he was to you, how much he loved you and how he always put you and your baby first. You thought about your daughter and how she will be in your arms soon, your mind spinning with negative thoughts of what could go wrong an if you'll even be able to handle this.
"I'm home!" you heard Felix come in after some time but you didn't want to move.
"Bubby?" Felix searched for you, he heard sniffles coming from your room and his heart squeezed inside his chest.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he approached you cautiously as you looked up at him all teary-eyed.
"I'm scared." you whispered and he was by your side instantly. You sat up and he wrapped his arms around you, soothing you as he caressed your hair.
"I don't know if I will be able to do this. If I'm fit to be a mom. Like what if she doesn't love me?" you whimpered and Felix looked at you, softly wiping your tears away.
"Of course she will love you, you're her mommy. And you will be the best mommy ever, I'm not just saying that because I love you, it's a fact."
"I don't deserve you." you cried harder and Felix shushed you immediately.
"Yes you do, bubby. We were made for each other. I don't even want to imagine my life without you. I've wanted this for so long, to be with you and to be able to call you mine. I've always dreamed of having a family with you and maybe this isn't the most regular way to start one but you know I love her like she is my own daughter." Felix said, his hands on your belly. "Oh, she's kicking."
"Yes, into my ribs." you said, both of you chuckling then. "You really mean all that?"
Felix smiled suddenly, sliding down to his knee and you gasped as your eyes widened.
"Lixie, what are you doing?" your heart started beating fast.
"This is not how I wanted to do it, I wanted to make it romantic with a ring and all." he started. "But, I can't wait anymore. I know we started dating only a few months ago but I've loved you since the day I laid eyes on you and maybe even before, in some other life. So, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?"
Your heart skipped a beat as fresh tears slid down your cheeks.
"Oh, Lixie." you grabbed at him. "Yes, a million times yes!" you said and he laughed happily, his eyes filled with tears too.
"I love you." you said in between the sweet kisses he showered you with.
"I love you, bubby."
"I just feel bad sometimes, you're doing all this for me and I'm not even working or doing anything to help out." you said and Felix scoffed.
"Working while pregnant? Not on my watch, bubby. You need to rest and focus on our baby. I will do everything else, I enjoy it so don't worry about not helping because the only thing I need is your love. As cheesy as this sounds, it gives me wings and nothing is hard to do when I know you appreciate it." Felix pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"I'm going to cry again." you sniffled, grabbing at his shirt.
"If it's happy tears, I've done well."
-
You decided not to wait anymore and get married as soon as possible, you had no doubts whatsoever in your mind, you knew that Felix was your person just how he was sure that the two of you were soulmates. You had a small wedding with just your family and close friends, keeping it simple due to your pregnancy.
"You look beautiful today." Felix said as soon as you got home after a little celebratory dinner.
"You tell me that every day." you chuckled, plopping down on the couch, making Felix laugh at your cuteness.
He kneeled to help you take your shoes off.
"Are your feet in pain?" he asked and you nodded with a pout. "Don't worry, bubby. I'll give you a massage."
"Come here for a sec." you waved your hand and he stood up before plopping down next to you.
"What's up?" Felix looked at you, a contemplative look on your face and a small smile spreading on your lips.
"I just need a minute to process that we are married now." you said and he chuckled, his hand finding yours, fingers entwined.
"Suits you well. To be Mrs Lee Felix." he smirked, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss into your skin.
"Don't say it like that." you whined.
"Why?" he chuckled.
"Because I'm already out of my head horny for you." you looked at him. "Hubby." you smirked and he sputtered.
"Let's just go to our room." he wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh.
"Help me up." you reached your hands towards him and he grabbed them, lifting you and leading you to your room.
Felix helped you strip before he laid you down, his eyes raking all over your body as he took you in.
"I'm gonna worship you for the rest of my life, wifey." he said as he stripped and kneeled between your legs.
"Me too." your breath hitched as soon as he put his hands on you, running them up and down your inner thighs, coaxing you to spread your legs more. His hand slid up to your core, thumb brushing against your puffy clit, making you whimper.
He slid his fingertips on your wet pussy, leaning down to kiss and lick at your nipples.
"Felix." you moaned, hands tangling in his hair, gripping him to ground yourself.
He grunted around your nipple and started sucking on it harder, slowly pushing his fingers iniside you.
"L-Lixie. Can we change the position?" you stopped him and he lifted up immediately with a smile.
"Anything to make you more comfortable, bubby."
You slowly turned on all fours, the only position that was pleasant lately and Felix ran his hands on your back.
"You okay, love?" he asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.
"Mhm." you leaned back into him, his cock brushing against your skin and twitching.
"Someone's eager." Felix smirked behind you, grabbing handfuls of your ass.
"Stop messing around, I'm horny." you whined, your pussy dripping with arousal. He never answered so you were about to turn around but then you felt the tip of his cock on your wet lips.
"Mm." you melted into the bed as he filled you up slowly.
"Like this, bubby?" Felix teased, dragging his cock inside you slowly, one hand on your hip and the other on your back.
"Harder." you said breathlessly.
"Harder, hm?" he gripped your ass, but continued moving his hips slowly.
"Please!" you cried out and he leaned over you to whisper in your ear.
"As you wish." his breath tickled and before you could gather your senses Felix gripped your hips and set a relentless pace, shaking your entire body as his hips slapped into you.
"Oh my god." you gasped, grabbing at the bedsheets while he fucked you into tomorrow.
"My sweet wife." Felix grunted, giving you a little slap on your ass and making your pussy clench.
"I'll give you another baby, you know?" he leaned in to whisper in your ear again, the tone of his voice even lower than usually.
"Ah, yes!" you groaned as he tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled.
"You want that?" his other hand grabbed at your breast, squeezing it harshly.
"Y-yes! Yes!" your mind was foggy and all you could do was agree as you came around him, your pussy gripping his cock.
"You'll be mine forever." Felix practically growled while he gripped at you, fucking you even harder as he chased his high.
"Forever. My husband." you moaned and Felix snapped, whimpering in your ear as he pushed deep inside you, filling you up with his warm cum.
He continued fucking into your slowly as he rode his orgasm, making you cum once again.
When he pulled out you laid on your side with him behind you, and he propped himself on his elbow, peering down at you.
"Are you okay?" he caressed you face as you smiled at him.
"Perfect." Felix kissed you and the two of you cuddled for some time before you decided to clean up.
"You're really thinking about another baby already?" you chuckled when you laid back in bed to sleep and Felix's face became red as he sputtered.
"W-well I want to have a family with you." he said sheepishly and you melted. "Plus, you're so cute when your pregnant." he added with a smirk and you smacked his arm.
"Shut up."
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Your baby's arrival was nearing and Felix was doting on you until the end. He cooked for you, gave you massages, prepared you baths, he did everything he could to make this exhausting time as comfortable as it can be.
You had fun together, watching movies and playing videogames from the comfort of your home. Felix wanted you to be happy and feel good about yourself.
He even painted and built the baby's room together with some friends who helped him out and when it was done he proudly showed off his handiwork. You started crying immediately as you were touched and Felix was there to comfort you.
"This is wonderful, Lixie. I love you." you sobbed.
"Love you the most, bubby." he kissed your tears away, like he always did.
-
"God, I want this baby out of me. I can't do this anymore." you whined one day, close to your due date. Everything was ready, your overnight bag, the baby's room and of course Felix, who was buzzing constantly.
"You know sex can induce labor." he smirked at you while you laid on bed together and you threw a pillow at him.
"Anything to get into my panties, hm?"
"What? I just wanna love on my beautiful wife." he looked at you with a smug smile.
"Beautiful?" you scoffed. "I look like a whale."
"A very sexy and alluring whale." Felix said with a serious face and you gasped before bursting out into laughter.
"You're dumb." you nudged him with your foot and he slid closer to you.
"Dumb in love." he smirked as you rolled your eyes at him.
He grabbed your hands in his gently, staring at you adoringly.
The vibe in the room shifted as Felix started kissing your knuckles slowly, while keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.
"You were serious about fucking?" you chuckled.
"Not fucking. Making love to my wife." he smirked as he leaned up to kiss you.
"Cheesy." you chuckled against his lips.
"Only if you're okay with it. If not I will leave you alone. Might cry a little but I'll be fine." he pouted and you giggled.
"I'm okay with it. Just be quick, I wanna nap soon." you said, making Felix laugh.
It was cute, every day spent with you in a domestic setting made his heart overflow with happiness. He had fantasized about being yours for the longest time, never knowing just how happy he would be.
You were happy too, happiest you've ever been. Even though you still had doubts and fears about being a mom, everything was easier with Felix by your side. He gave you the right amount of comfort and support, he loved you more than anyone ever had before.
All the shitty things you went through, your strained relationship with your parents, your horrible ex, the sadness that existed inside you was now exchanged for a happiness you couldn't express in words.
-
Felix was sitting in your room, right in the middle of a game with his friends when you appeared on the doorstep.
"Felix." you said.
"Yeah, bubby? I'll be done in a minute." he didn't turn around, too concentrated on his screen.
"You gotta be done now. My water just broke."
With that, Felix's head snapped in your direction, his eyes widened as he scrambled to get up.
"Guys, gotta go. About to become a daddy." he quickly said into the mic before running to you.
"I'll grab your bag." he said, his voice shaking in panic as you started to feel the pain.
Felix drove to the hospital quickly, probably running over a few red lights.
"I can't do this!" you screamed as soon as you were situated in the hospital.
"Yes, you can bubby! Just hold my hand, okay? Break my fingers if you need to." Felix tried to be encouraging but you gave him a look.
"I'll break more than just your fingers." you threatened before screaming in agony.
Felix screamed with you, mostly because you were actually crushing his hand.
When it was time to push, Felix nearly fainted multiple times, especially when he leaned in to see the baby's head coming out.
"Oh my god." he squealed, the nurses giving him a look as you almost pulled his arm off by yanking him away from the sight.
"Stop looking." you groaned, not wanting him to pass out for real.
Felix concentrated on encouraging you as much as he could and before long, the nurse finally placed your daughter in your arms.
The feelings swirling within you couldn't be explained in mere words as you stared at the life you had created.
"Wow, she's beautiful. She looks just like you." Felix's eyes were wide as he stared at her, his heart swelling inside his chest.
"You wanna hold her?" you asked and Felix swallowed before nodding a little.
"She's so tiny, I'm afraid I'll break her." he gasped when he took her in his arms.
"You won't." you smiled at the sight, Felix holding your daughter and looking at her with so much adoration in his eyes.
You couldn't wait to go home and start your new life, just the three of you, your own little family.
-
The adjusment was hard at first, everything felt surreal and the time was going by too quickly. Your daughter was already almost 5 months old and you were wondering how the hell did all that time pass.
Felix was the most helpful husband you could ask for, everything he promised he'd do weren't just empty words and you were eternally grateful to have him.
One afternoon as you put your daughter into her crib for a nap, a knock came on the door.
Felix was in the living room and he stood up to open it just as you walked in. Both you and Felix were shocked to see your ex boyfriend standing there. You weren't expecting to see him ever again, an uneasy feeling spreading all over your body as your feet got stuck in the floor.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Felix was fuming immediately.
"I- I realized I was wrong. I want to have a family with you, y/n. I've been miserable since you left." he craned his neck trying to look at you but Felix stepped in, standing straight in front of your ex.
"It's a little late for that, buddy." Felix showed the guy his wedding ring with a smirk on his face and your ex gasped.
"You got married? To him?" he scoffed suddenly.
"I suggest you leave now." Felix ignored him as you stood there, still unsure of what to do or say.
"What a slut you are." your ex smirked and Felix snapped, quickly manhandling the bastard down to his knees as he twisted his arm back and placed his foot on your ex's back.
He yelped as you gasped, never seeing Felix this mad.
"Don't talk about her like that, scum. You never deserved her. If I ever see you anywhere near my wife or my baby I will fucking kill you." Felix growled, pressing his foot harder into his back.
"Do you understand?" he pulled on his arm, almost popping it out of place as your ex moaned in pain.
"I understand." he said through gritted teeth.
"Do you really?"
"Felix, it's okay." you intervened, not wanting him to go too far.
"I understand, alright!" your ex yelled annoyingly and Felix finally let him go as he scrambled to get up.
"Fuck the both of you." he spat before leaving and Felix watched him drive away before he turned to you, his expression softening.
"You okay?" he asked after closing and locking the door.
"God, that was so hot." you threw your arms around his neck and Felix's eyes widened as he chuckled.
"Really?" he asked and you let out a laugh as he circled his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body.
"Mhm. My sexy husband." you wiggled your eyebrows as he blushed.
"Does the sexy husband get a reward from his beautiful wife?" he smirked.
"Why of course." you chuckled, leading him to your room.
"Are you sure? We haven't since- you know. I don't wanna hurt you." Felix shook his head quickly.
"I know you'll be gentle." you said, caressing his face and tracing his pretty freckles with your fingertips.
Felix smiled softly at you, leaning in to kiss you sweetly.
"We have only while she naps though." you said as the both of your started stripping.
"Okay quick but gentle." Felix nodded, making you laugh.
You were about to strip completely, when you stopped, biting on your lip.
"What's wrong?" your husband came up to you, his hands running up and down soothingly on your arms.
"My body is completely changed. And well, it could get messy."
"I like messy." Felix smirked and you shook your head with a smile. "You have no reason to be insecure with me. I love you even more than I did before. I admire you so much, you're my everything y/n. And you'll always be sexy to me."
"Felix." your lips trembled as your eyes filled with tears but he was quick to kiss them away. "I love you so much." you breathed out between kisses as his hands traveled under your shirt before he pulled it off.
The way he looked at you erased any insecurity in your mind, Felix was mesmerized, his eyes full of love and lust.
"Lay down for me." he said quietly and you smirked.
"No, I wanna be on top."
"Oh." Felix's cock twitched, straining against his boxers painfully. "Whatever you want, bubby." he licked his lips, no thoughts behind his eyes whatsoever as he kept staring at your full tits.
You pushed him down on the bed, stripping him out of his underwear so you could have all of him on display for you to play with.
You crashed your lips into his before kissing his jaw and his neck, your lips traveling on his skin, touching every precious freckle. Your nipples kept brushing against him and Felix whined, pushing his cock up towards you.
His hand flew to the back of your neck as he brought your face to his, kissing you again.
"Ah!" he groaned when your fingers wrapped around his length, giving him a few pumps as you observed his face, twisted in pleasure.
You hovered over him and he gasped.
"You're so good to me, bubby. I'm so lucky to have you." he whimpered as you ran his tip on your wet cunt.
"I'm the one who's lucky. I get to use this cock whenever I want." you smirked as you pushed the tip between your folds.
"Oh my god." Felix groaned, pushing up towards your heat. "Yes, yes, use me whenever you want!"
You slowly slid down on him and sat still, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you after some time. Felix kept staring at your tits and you smirked.
"You want these?" you grabbed them gently, jiggling them a little and you felt him twitch inside you.
"P-please. Can I- can I taste it?" he gave you his puppy eyes and you clenched at the thought.
"You wanna taste my milk?" you asked and Felix panicked.
"N-no, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that! I'm sorry if that's weird, you totally don't have to." he sat up a little, his cock brushing against your sweet spot.
"I want you to." you said and he stared at you, his eyes wide.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Come on. Wrap your lips around it." you leaned over him, your breasts in his face and he whined as you dripped around his cock, slowly moving your hips in circles.
"Y/n." Felix moaned before giving your nipple a few kitten licks then wrapping his lips around it.
You gasped as he started sucking greedily, the taste of your sweet milk making him become rock hard inside you. Felix moaned as he swallowed, grabbing at your breast and squeezing it.
"L-Lixie!" you moaned loudly as he flipped you over, fucking into you, his hands on your breasts and lips around your nipple, drinking from you.
He couldn't get enough, fucking you with a semi-fast pace as he kept sucking on your tits. You felt so aroused, your body sensitive and you came, squirting around his cock.
"Fuck, bubby!" Felix licked at his lips, his eyes rolling back as he pulled out, jerking his cock until he came, ropes of white cum landing on your tummy and chest. You pouted at him, grabbing at his arm.
"Why didn't you finish inside?"
"I had to pull out or I'd get you pregnant again." he groaned and you giggled, biting on your lip.
"So what?"
"Baby, don't tempt me." Felix whined and you chuckled. "You should take some time to heal."
"I love that you're so caring but sometimes I wish you were just a little bit inconsiderate." you teased as he brought you into his chest, cuddling with you.
Felix laughed, the sound shaking your body as he held you close.
"Okay, I'll be a bad boy next time and forget to pull out." he smirked.
"Mhm." you smirked back and leaned in to kiss just as your daughter started crying.
"She's awake and hungry." you sat up and Felix kissed your shoulder before leaning his chin on it.
"I might be hungry for something sweet later too." he smirked and you smacked him as he laughed.
"I'm sure you will be."
-
Fall came around and with it all of the pretty colors had painted the leaves, it was your and Felix's favorite sight to see so you decided to go on a little stroll to the park with your daughter.
Felix pushed the stroller as you held onto his arm, taking in the scenery around you and the fresh air smelling of rain about to fall.
"What are you thinking about?" Felix asked.
"You. How happy we are." you smiled as you looked at him.
"I'm so happy." he smiled back sweetly and your daughter fussed a little.
"She's growing so quickly." you sighed wistfully and Felix nodded.
"She is. We can always make another baby." he added and you chuckled.
"I'd love that."
Later that afternoon, the rain poured outside as you sat under a warm cozy blanket with your loving husband and your sweet daughter, safe from any harm. You couldn't imagine a better life than this.
And it was all thanks to Felix loving you and making you love yourself again as the scars on your heart healed one by one.
~taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @halfwinterhalfuniverse
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hoonieyun · 5 months ago
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sleepover ⊹˚. ♡
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a prank where you tell your boyfriend you no longer want to spend the night heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon genre: fluff, romance, drabble warnings: profanity, kissing, suggestive, 18+
hoonieyun notes: ive seen this as a tiktok trend for a while now and i just imagine how they'd react so i had to write it lol not proofread lol
heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ
"i dont feel like sleeping over anymore..." after those words left your mouth, heeseung was instantly off of his phone and looking at you with his big doe eyes.
"w- what?" he asks, eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to understand if he heard you correctly. "you don't wanna sleep over?? why.." he asks so softly and you couldn't help but feel bad. of course you wanted to sleep over but you just wanted to see how your boyfriend would react.
"i just wanna sleep in my bed." you say, trying not to break character, although it was hard not to when heeseung was looking at you so endearingly with his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.
"bu-but you said you'd spend the weekend with me! we haven't seen each other in so long because we're working so much- what about we spend the night at yours instead if you want to sleep in your own bed?
i can pack my bags really quick, i promise. i'll be super fast- let me go do it right now so we can head out..." heeseung says. it was so cute to see him want to just spend the night with you, sleeping in his arms and having your warmth blend into one another.
heeseung was now getting up to go pack a weekend bag and just before his hands slip away from yours, your tightening your grip around his hands and pulling him back.
"im just kidding, babe. its just a prank on tiktok, of course i'm gonna sleepover." you say with a chuckle and heeseung rolls his eyes with a sigh of relief. his hand flying to his chest to console himself as you laugh at him.
suddenly he gently tackles you onto his bed, both arms wrapping around you into a warm embrace.
"it better just be a joke because no i'm never letting you leave me!" he says, placing several kisses on your cheek.
"good, i wouldn't want to be anywhere but in your arms anyway."
jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ
"babe, i think im gonna go home soon." you told jay as the two of you sat on his bed. you were scrolling on tiktok when you came across the prank while jay was playing his guitar. the beautiful melody filling his bedroom.
"did you forget something at home?" he asks, fingers still skillfully strumming the guitar as he asks his question. "no, i just wanna go home." you say, trying your best to stay serious so he doesn't notice you're trying to prank him.
suddenly, his strumming stops and the beautiful melodic sound of his guitar is gone- the room filled with awkward air.
"you wanna go home? but i thought you were spending the night?" he says, turning towards you after he's carefully set his guitar on the stand next to him on the floor.
"yeah but- i don't know... i just don't want to anymore." you explain without much explanation and he furrows his eyebrows at you with a pout on his lips.
"did i do something? are you feeling ok? you know you can tell me anything right? am i not paying enough attention to you? sorry, we can watch that movie you wanted to-" jay was now rambling as he tries to wrap his head around why you suddenly want to leave even though you promised you spend the night over at his place. '
"baby, i'm just joking, it's a tiktok prank!" you interrupt him with a laugh; his eyes drop into a narrow gaze and his pout intensifies.
"wow... fine go home then..." he says teasingly, turning around and crossing his arms.
"hey... i was just joking!!" you say, crawling over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck; placing a kiss on his cheek.
"you can't resist me... you love me too much." he says with a smile, placing a kiss onto your lips.
"you're right but you're the one who begged me to sleepover sooo..." you tease and he turns to look at you, mouth agape.
"hey!!" he says as your laughter fills his room.
jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ
"jake... i'm gonna go home, ok?" you say, getting up from his bed and pretending like you're going home. in an instant, jake's hand is grabbing yours and he's twirling you onto his lap. "you're going where??" he asks, pouting and staring intensely into yours eyes.
"h- home..?" your response wasn't meant to come out as a question but his gaze was so piercing that you couldn't fully focus on the prank that you were trying to pull on your boyfriend.
"what happened to the sleepover? we were supposed to binge a bunch of movies, eat snacks, and play mario kart?? remember that?" he says, trying to remind you why you were there in the first place and although you didn't forget, for the sake of the prank you had to play along.
"yeah... well i don't really wanna do that anymore." you say, looking away from his eyes and onto your lap where you fiddled with your fingers.
"baby, look at me-" jake says, gently grabbing your chin to make your eyes meet again. "did something happen? did i do something?" he asks so lovingly that you couldn't continue pranking him any longer.
"ok, sorry! it was a prank i saw on tiktok, but you're too sweet to prank- i feel bad." you say while your hands gently cup his face as you pepper kisses all over.
"thank god, i thought you were suddenly mad at me." he says, relieved that you weren't leaving and that you weren't upset.
"so you're staying?" he asks and you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to which jake respond by picking you up bridal style and standing up onto his feet.
"splendid! now we will commence movie night, princess what movie shall we begin with?" he asks and his cute actions make you laugh.
"my prince, might i suggest 50 first dates?" you say, playing along with his sillyness.
"splendid choice my love. onward to the living room!" he says as he carefully runs the two of you to his living room with layla in toe; barking in excitement at the random surge of energy between the two of you.
jake carefully places you onto his couch as you set up the movie while he puts together the snacks.
"i'm glad you weren't actually leaving..." he whispers to you during the movie. "i'd never leave, even if i forgot you like in this movie- i'd find a way to remember and come back to you... always." you respond, placing a kiss onto his lips.
sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ
"babe, i'm gonna head out in a bit." you tell sunghoon in such a chill manner that he almost doesn't fully process what you said. he almost just nods and hums in response until his head snaps upwards from his phone and he turns to you with a head tilt.
"wait, where are you going? it's like 2am." he asks and you tell him that you wanted to go home despite telling him prior that you would sleepover because you missed him so much to which he responded with a wide smile and said how much he missed you too.
"home?? what happened to missing me so much you wanted to sleep over? do you not miss me anymore..." he asks, voice low as he tries his best to not show that he was clearly sad you wanted to leave.
"i do miss you... but i also miss my bed." you say and he looks at you like you're crazy.
"your bed... over me?? you're hot and loving boyfriend??" he asks, now he's sitting right next to you, face hovering over yours with both his hands trapping you between them.
"uh- well.." you try to respond but you couldn't muster up any response as you stared at him. he just looked so handsome that you lost your train of thought as broken sentences and stutters left your lips.
"if you miss you bed so much why don't you just move in?" sunghoon suddenly says and this catches you off guard. your eyes widen at his statement and although you've been dating for a little over a year now, neither of you have brought up the idea of moving in together.
"re- really??" your question coming out as a whisper.
sunghoon nods and tells you that it's probably better that way anyways since your job was closer to his place and his rent was more affordable than yours.
"um.. okay!" you say and sunghoon smiles at your response, placing a kiss on your lips. "perfect, i'll help you break your lease tomorrow and we can start planning your move right away!" he says eagerly, pulling out his laptop to start planning out your move.
you're left laying next to him a bit dumbfounded as your prank took an unexpected turn. "y'know this was supposed to be a prank..." you confess and he once again looks at you with a head tilt, "prank?" he asks.
"yeah, i was supposed to act like i didn't want to sleep over anymore to see your reaction..." you explain and he closes his eyes with a chuckle.
"well, good thing you decided to do that because now you're with me forever!" he says teasingly while sticking his tongue out at you. "plus, i've been wanting to ask you to move in for awhile, i just never knew when to do it." sunghoon says in a warm tone and your heart melts at him.
"i'm glad to be moving in, that way i'll never have to leave again." you say while snuggling closer to him so you could both work on planning your move together, wrapping your arms around his bicep while resting your head on his shoulder. a position that you could get used to.
copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3
𐐪♡𐑂 @pagedmiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13
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dokyumms · 2 months ago
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operation: hug me
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pairing: woozi x reader
genre: fluff
word count: 2.3k
cw: none? reader staying on that only-sleeping-with-a-stuffed-animal agenda, way too much backstory bc i yap
a/n: hey kings, writing this instead of a request as a late bday gift to my moot @lavoilee!! not sure who ur svt bias is so i chose randomly lolol, hope you enjoy!! getting back to doing requests in shorter amounts of time, i just had a hard time thinking of smth good for this haha
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jihoon is a weird guy.
okay, let's rephrase that: he's been acting like a weird guy. you can't tell if he's mad at you or in love with you, and you're determined to find out what's up.
it all started one afternoon at a café with your friend. you were both chatting around, just catching up. as both of you sipped on your coffees, the topic had gone from work, to gossip, to... medical check ups?
"how've you been sleeping? 'cause i sure have not been sleeping well," she'd asked randomly, widening her eyes in exasperation and taking another sip of her drink.
"hasn't been that great for me either," you sighed truthfully, recalling the sleepless nights you'd been having since jihoon had been on tour and started promotions for his comeback right after. you were truly proud of him, but it sure did suck not having him to hold onto when he would stay at the studio for the night.
your friend giggled, "why? because your 'jihoonie' hasn't been home?" she teased, mocking the name you accidentally called him while she was over at your place a couple months ago. "oh my god, stop it." you slapped her on the shoulder.
"you know i'm right, though." she teased again, wavering when you glared at her. "okay, okay, but i'm being serious. i remember when my boyfriend went on a business trip i was up all night," she exaggerated, rolling her eyes when you raised an eyebrow at her "up all night as in tossing and turning till my alarm went off. anyways, i ended up buying a stuffed animal to replace him, and it worked! maybe i should start using that again..."
"hm, maybe that'll help," you pondered, writing a reminder to search for one before another conversation began to sprout out of your friend.
that evening, you spent yet another restless night looking through the internet, finally settling on a moderately sized stuffed animal of a black cat after a couple hours of searching. after typing down your (jihoon's) credit card number, your phone vibrated with a call from your boyfriend.
you set your laptop aside and accepted the call, "hoon?"
"hey, babe. um, na pd just kidnapped us again- i'm going to be in france for a week. i'm really sorry, i promise you i didn't know about it till today..."
it took everything in your power not to let out a sigh, but he seemed to tell.
"i understand if you're mad or suspicious, hell, i'd be too. let me facetime you so i can show you that i'm really being kidnapped."
you hummed in response, accepting the facetime call that popped up on your phone not a second later. it was laggy for sure, but you could tell he was at an airport and that hoshi and wonwoo were seated next to him. they both waved happily.
"sorry he couldn't be home y/n! don't get too mad at him- hey!" hoshi called, yelping when wonwoo slapped him.
"ignore him, you should be as mad as you please." wonwoo smiled before hoshi pounced on him. jihoon turned the camera back to him.
"yeah, that's how it's been going. i'll call you as often as i can, okay? i'll make it up to you somehow."
ugh, you couldn't be mad at that, so holding back a sigh, you put on the most undisappointed smile you could muster. "it's okay jihoon, have fun okay? send me lots of photos."
he smiled back, "okay, i love you. and it's late, go to sleep soon, please." he finally said, waiting for you to say it back before he waved a goodbye and hung up.
you flopped back on the couch in disappointment- another week of this? could you even take more of it? "at least i could put that thing to use," you thought as sleep finally began to take over.
two days later, you opened a brown box to reveal a vacuum sealed black blob. you wondered if you got scammed after cutting the plastic off to reveal a slightly less smushed black blob with cat ears. nonetheless, it was too late to return it now, so you just went on with your day, abandoning it in your room.
when you came back that evening, however, you were greeted by the cat you were promised in all of its stuffed glory. now that it was inflated, you could see that the money paid had been worth it. happy with your purchase, you quickly took a shower and got ready for bed.
by 11pm, you were in bed, wrapping up a facetime call with jihoon as the stuffed animal laid besides you. you were both saying your goodbyes when he noticed it next to you.
"did you get a cat?"
you let out a confused noise before looking around you to find the cat he was referring to.
"this? no, it's just a stuffed animal," you explained, holding up the cat plush and waving it in the camera.
"ah, i see. why'd you get it?"
"oh, you know... just to help..." you answered sheepishly in embarrassment. he raised an eyebrow at your answer then simply nodded.
"hm, well.. enjoy it while it lasts. goodnight to you, love you." he said quickly, hanging up right after, leaving you confused with a hand still on the cat.
"enjoy it while it lasts? how weird." you mumbled, sending a quick message in confusion before laying down. it was weird; with the stuffed animal underneath your arms, the bed all of the sudden seemed more comfortable, and a sudden feeling of coziness filled you. you felt less alone.
and before you were able to silence your phone, turn on white noise, everything you normally did to help you sleep, you were passed out.
so, with the success of that night, you began to sleep with it everyday. it really did seem to work, and you made a mental note to thank your friend when you saw her again.
before you knew it, it was the night before jihoon was said to return to korea. you sent him a message, telling him you were going to sleep and laid down with your newfound cuddle buddy. you wrapped your arms around the cat, and fell sound asleep within minutes.
this is where the weirdness began.
you woke up, stirring to the sound of your door opening to find jihoon in the room, suitcase in one hand and wearing a weird expression. it was weirdly neutral, yet still made you uneasy. he looked... mad?
"hoon? you said you weren't coming back till tomorrow.." you murmured. "why do you look like that?"
"look like what?"
"you look mad" you said truthfully, rubbing your eye to get a better look at him.
"i'm not mad? i think you're still sleepy." he said, walking over and joining you on the bed. he tried to get closer to you but was blocked by something. "what's this?"
"i told you, i got a stuffed animal." you answered sleepily holding it up in front of him. "hm, well you don't need it." he said, grabbing it and tossing it across the room.
"hey, be nice to juni."
"you named it??"
"yeah, so what. meanie." you told him, turning away from him. you weren't actually mad, about 5 seconds away from turning back around to hug him, but he sighed before you could do anything. he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around you and somehow getting (more like manhandling) you to turn around.
"babe, i'm sorry. i missed you a lot. i don't know why i threw the cat- i mean juni." he apologized sincerely before nuzzling into your neck, throwing you completely off guard.
you had not meant for him to take your 'sulking' seriously, and also, you two had never cuddled like this, with him being the little spoon. it wasn't that you minded, but jihoon was never big on physical affection in the first place, so it was odd, but nonetheless, you accepted it.
"hoonie, it's fine. i don't care about it that much," you giggled, stroking his hair. "i'm just glad you're home, you came earlier than i thought." you commented. he nodded in response. "just wanted to surprise you." is all he said, snuggling into you further before knocking out.
the only problem was that after about a week of sleeping with the cat, it sort of became a habit, so the same thing happened for the next 3 days. you would fall asleep with the cat, wake up to jihoon looking mad at you, and then he would start cuddling with you as if he was a whole different person.
which leads you to now.
instead of consulting with him like a normal person, you decide to go to your friend, the same one who suggested getting the stuffed animal in the first place.
"isn't it obvious?" she says after hearing your story. you're both at the same café, sipping the same drinks and everything. you look at her in confusion. "if it was obvious, i don't think i'd be asking? come on, just tell me." you plead, desperate to get your boyfriend to stop scaring you in the middle of the night.
"fine, fine. i'll tell you... he obviously wants you to cuddle with him!"
"yeah, that's what we've been doing. for the past 4 years we've been dating" you deadpan, but she just rolls her eyes at you. "okay yeah, but not like that." she explains, rolling her eyes again when you're dumbfounded.
"he wants you to cuddle with him like how you cuddle that cat! duh! is that not how you hug it or what?" she exaggerates, nearly standing up at how oblivious you are. you take a minute to think back to the last couple nights.
huh, maybe she's right (again? seriously, you got to stop boosting her ego). you normally slept with the stuffed animal with it tucked under your head, was jihoon really jealous of that? come to think of it, he'd always been the big spoon, but it's not like you two had assigned roles to each other or anything, so why would he wait so long just for you to cuddle with him like that? must be some weird double standard bullshit.
anyways, now you have a plan. the goal? to get jihoon to admit his fears once and for all (and partially for him to stop looking at you weirdly in the middle of the night).
when you get home, jihoon's passed out on the couch. not a problem. you go along with your day, finish some coursework, and then get ready for bed. essentially, you do everything you'd do on a normal day, but when it's time for bed, you call out for your boyfriend.
"jihoon! shouldn't you go shower?" you ask. he groans from the living room, shuffling around before entering the bedroom, opening some drawers and pulling out random clothes from it. "i'll be back soon," he says, entering the bathroom. "i'll wait for you~" you sing song back.
only 15 minutes later, he's walking out of the bathroom in his usual sleep wear, no shirt and black shorts. if this had been around 4 years ago when you started living together, you would've gawked at the sight, but by now you were used to it (more like, you learned how to control your reaction).
you put down your phone and watch intently as he walks over. "why are you looking at me like that-" he's cut off mid-question when you drag him onto the bed as soon as he's close enough.
he lands with an 'oomph' and you use all your strength to pull him so he's tucked into you. you honestly think he's going to pop straight back up, but he doesn't, simply complying and cuddling closer to you.
"do you like this?" you ask, holding him close. he seems taken aback; his breath hitches against your neck, and there's a long silence before he answers. "um..."
"i knew it! why didn't you just say so baby?" you say, almost teasingly. he groans, but doesn't push back. if anything, he gets closer, trying to hide the obvious flush that starts to spread across his face. you don't tease him any further, deciding he's embarrassed enough, and simply continue to hold him in a comfortable silence.
"but seriously, why didn't you tell me? i have no problem with it." you ask after a while, looking down to check if he's even awake when a minute passes without an answer. he looks up at you shyly before explaining.
"i didn't even know i liked it until i came home and saw you hugging that thing, really. i guess i was jealous of it? i couldn't tell until i was in that position and realized that i enjoyed it. it felt weird to ask for it, so i just waited till you were.. dazed? god, that sounds bad." he says, putting his head down at the last sentence.
you laugh, "what?? i didn't know you were so evil my hoonie." you tease, letting him break free from your grasp and use juni to smack you in the face. and you decide you're not taking that, so a pillow fight breaks out, except he's still clutching onto the cat with his life, not letting it go as he swings at you. before long, you both give up, landing on the bed, sweating and hearts pounding.
you're both laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. "wow, it's really been awhile since i did that." he comments, turning his head at you. maybe that's only something you hear in movies, but you don't care. "come over here, you sappy guy."
he listens, rolling over and letting you tuck him into your chest. "your sappy guy, right?" he asks, voice vibrating against you.
"my sappy guy? maybe i should've been doing this from the start-" and he's hitting you again.
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airybcby · 7 months ago
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Did You See Me On TV?
( bllk boys and being in a long distance relationship )
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a/n — thought about this and just HAD to write. no long distance relationship experience, but def some long distance friendship experience. rather short, but i had to get it out.
content — fem! reader, set in the ' Neo Egoist ' era, some characters repeated, all characters 18+, angst, fluff, maybe some ooc for some people??, nicknames 'love' , 'babe' , 'baby' , ' my girl ' , and 'sweetheart' used
synopsis — yes, he's a world famous soccer player, but he's also your boyfriend. how does this effect your relationship?
⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you tell yourself it's fine, ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' radio silence '
it's been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play for the soccer team he'd been assigned to, and what had you heard from him?
...complete and utter silence.
you understood he was busy now, you really did, but he hadn't even called while he'd been gone. any text he sent was no more than 3 words.
you were still in love with him, but was he in love with you anymore? had he forgotten all about you? was there another girl that was better than you?
the promise the two of you had made before he left sat on your tongue like lead now.
" you'll come back whenever you can, right? " you'd asked him. " for you? always. i couldn't imagine a life without you. i promise i'll call every chance i get. "
you stared at your phone, the text you'd sent him before his game started staring back at you...mocking you.
you: good luck, love!! i'm rooting for you from home! i love you, have fun, don't get hurt. call me when you can <3
it was almost pitiful. three almost exact texts sat above that one, and he hadn't even bothered to read them until after the game, simply replying with a...
him <3 : thanks
and no, if you were wondering, he hadn't ever called you.
and here you were, like a fool, curled up in your bed watching his game on live TV, watching as he made his second goal of the day.
maybe, just maybe, he'd call you after this one.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RIN ITOSHI, oliver aiku, OTOYA EITA, rensuke kunigami
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' a complete mess '
he'd been gone a month, and you can't count a single day he hasn't called you three times at minimum. you'd been together for a while, but you never realized how much he relied on you to do basic everyday tasks for him.
"babe? do you know where i usually keep my long socks?" you heard come from your phone speaker as you were trying to do your own homework, mind you.
" usually in the middle of your top drawer next to your underwear. unless you've changed it. " you stated, he'd asked you this question every single time he had a game since he had left, but you wouldn't dare expect him to remember that.
" you're the best, baby. what would i do without you? " your boyfriend asked as he pulled socks out of his drawer, propping his phone up on the bedside lamp as he slid the socks onto his feet.
" lose your head, probably. " you joked, looking up from your work to admire him.
yes, everyone got to see him as the big, bad soccer player on TV, but with you? he seemed like a completely different person, not someone who could get a hat trick and also simultaneously asking where their phone is while it's in their hand.
" your games soon, love. you gotta get going. " you helpfully reminded him, as if you were his personal alarm ( you were but that's besides the point )
" ah crap, thank you baby. i'll call you after i win," he said cheekily. " i'll score a goal just for you, so make sure you watch!"
" you know i will. call you later, i love you. " you reflected his smile through the phone. " i love you too! " he repeated. and just as you were about to press the 'end call' button...
"oh, baby? do you remember where i put my jersey?"
yeah, without you he'd be a train wreck.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, bachira meguru, HIORI YO, gin gagamaru, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, ranze kurona
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' basically married '
it'd been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play professional soccer, and out of the four games he had played, you'd been flown out for three of them.
" do you like it? " he asked giddily, as if he was a child on christmas morning waiting to open presents. but instead of a gift, it was him showing you the hotel room he'd gotten you so you could watch his game this week too.
" you're too sweet to me, love. i would've been happy just sitting at home and cheering you on from there. " you told him. " nope! you're no longer allowed to watch the games from home," he said as if it was a fact.
oh, soccer players and their superstitions.
" even the whole team agrees! my girl is our lucky charm! "
the one game you missed, because you had a big test may i add, they lost. it wasn't a horrible loss, no, they went into additional time and lost 5-4.
your shock and confusion must have been written all of your face, because he just laughed. " c'mon sweetheart, why don't you just come live with me here ? "
many reasons, actually. you still had school, it was across the world (not really but it felt like it ), your family, your friends.
he knew all of this, of course. there usually wasn't a day that you seriously considered it. considered being here, with him, instead of having to facetime and miss him.
one day, you would, but not now...you think.
"oh, hush. you gotta get going, you have a game to win." you huffed, pushing at his shoulder to hopefully get him going out the door.
"alright, alright. i'll come back with you after the game, sweetheart. i love you, see you after my win! "
and win he would, because he swore to himself that if he won this game the velvet box that was hiding in his dresser would finally be able to come out.
but, hey, even if he didn't win, would you say no to the ring he had custom made for you?
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, YUKIMIYA KENYU, chigiri hyoma, nijiro nanase, BARO SHOEI
⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you're just in love ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
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this was really written on a whim, but i hope yall liked it!
likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!
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httpsserene · 8 months ago
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hobby hopper — 𝐟𝐚. 𝟏𝟒 fernando alonso x brazilian!fem!reader requested! by @loomiscorpse. smau. fluff and humor.
synopsis: nobody can keep up with your growing list of hobbies, except fernando.
༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. written for @loomiscorpse 🤍 i promised that i would write this for you in july and i finally found the time to fulfill it! this is how i learned fernando has a back tat. what rock have i been living under? happy reading, babes xxx
(in case i'm m.i.a., there's a category 5 hurricane that's looks pretty serious. i'm probably going to have a power outage. prayers to anyone else in the path of the storm, evacuate if you're on the west coast, and stay safe.)
⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻
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igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!
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[caption1; sip and paint with the ladies 👩🏽‍🎨🎨 carmenmmundt kellypiquet][caption2; for my first painting, this is good right?]
alexandrasaintmleux: i'll put it in a gallery 🤩 alexandrasaintmleux: i can't believe i'm friends with the best artist of our time 😌 yourinstagram: alex pleaseee omg 😳🤭 yourinstagram: you realize that means you think i'm better than claude monet right ? alexandrasaintmleux: ,,,second best artist of our time yourinstagram: 😆😆😆
fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful 😍 yourinstagram: you really think so??? fernandoalo_official: yes i like what you did with the colors and brush strokes of course yourinstagram: what detailed compliments meu bem 😂
carmenmmundt: i still don't believe that you've never painted before 🤨 carmenmmundt: you did so well !!!!!! yourinstagram: thank you my love 🥰 yourinstagram: i think i am going to keep painting. it was very fun! carmenmmundt: you should! you're quite good at it :)
instagram • yourinstagram
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liked by heidiberger_, fernandoalo_official, francisca.cgomes and 101,723 others
yourinstagram encontro noturno em cores 🖼️
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user1: ptbr to eng translation "date night in color 🖼️"
user2: wow!!! you improved so much already! have you been taking lessons?
➥ yourinstagram: thank you! the only lessons i'm learning are from youtube haha ➥ yourinstagram: and i have painted every day since i started! ➥ user3: you definitely have a natural talent for this! and a lot of potential!!! ➥ user4: it's taken me years to develop a minimal understanding of color theory and shadows. she's done it in two weeks 😕
user5: i know leonardo hates that he didn't paint this 😩😩😩
➥ user6: he's rolling in his grave for sureeee 🙂‍↕️ ➥ user7: bitch why tf would a ninja turtle be mad about this ☠️ ➥ user8: leonardo DA VINCI YOU UNEDUCATED CUR ➥ user7: my fault forgot the turtle wasn't the only person named leo 🫣🫠 ➥ user8: HOW DO YOU FORGET THE MAN WHO PAINTED THE MONA LISA ⁉️⁉️⁉️
pepemartiofficial: i loved doing art in school! i can teach you a few things if you want 😁😁😁
➥ yourinstagram: you mean primary school? which was like last year for you? i think i'll pass garoto 🥴 ➥ fernandoalo_official: josep maria marti sobrepepa don't piss me off. ➥ fernandoalo_official: test me and you can say goodbye to a formula one seat. ➥ user9: ain't no way pepe just tried to step to fernando's girl who's TEN !!! years older than him ➥ pepemartiofficial: shhh i can be mature for her 🤤 ➥ fernandoalo_official: count your days 🥱
carlossainz55: the painting is really good, you made the water look so realistic!
➥ yourinstagram: obrigada carlitos! ➥ carlossainz55: where's fernando's painting 😈 ➥ yourinstagram: it was very good! but he did not want me to post a photo of it :((( ➥ fernandoalo_official: it was very ugly carlos 🙄 ➥ yourinstagram: it was not that bad i just could not tell that it was supposed to be a tiger and not a house cat that was struck by lightning 😅 ➥ carlossainz55: i will pay to see this painting 🤣🤣🤣
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igstory • astonmartinf1 just uploaded!
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[caption1; admin was just forcibly handed bear coasters ??? she said they remind her of lance 🐻][caption2; the crochet culprit is on to her next project!]
user: lance bear agenda still going strong 💪
lance_stroll: i want bear coasters 😞 astonmartinf1: meet me downstairs, she gave me extras to hand out to the team lance_stroll: she's the best 🤩🤩🤩 lance_stroll: see you in 5?
user: DUDE she's onto clothes already??? how?!!!
user: admin i need you to send me photos of that sketchbook 👺🤲🏻 user: i need her patterns admin i'm not playing around astonmartinf1: lol get blocked loser 💀
instagram • fernandoalo_official
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liked by carlossainz55, lance_stroll, yourinstagram and 234,586 others
fernandoalo_official there is yarn and hooks in my car. this has gone too far.
view comments
yourinstagram: you make a man a shirt with the materials HE bought for you and it's a problem. ungrateful behavior nano 😤
➥ fernandoalo_official: the shirt is very nice i even posed for a picture. all i ask is for no hooks to be left in the cupholders? ➥ yourinstagram: can we compromise and i leave them in the glove box 🥺
user10: let me get this straight: you crochet for a month and suddenly you become a fashion designer?
➥ yourinstagram: not a month, three weeks* i have been crocheting ➥ user11: oh fuck off- how are you good at everything 😩😩😩 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not! and i still cannot make a granny square no matter how hard i try to ☹️ ➥ user12: you don't need to know how to make a granny square when you can make actual pieces of clothing!!!
landonorris: may i have something crocheted too?
➥ yourinstagram: what would you like landinho 😊 ➥ landonorris: may i have a beanie? or a sweater?? ➥ georgerussell: ooooh i'd like a beanie too! ➥ francisca.cgomes: i want that top you're wearing! or something similar!!!! ➥ lance_stroll: what about earmuffs? ➥ lilymhe: a cardigan would be so nice ➥ charlesleclerc: i want a sweater!!! ➥ fernandoalo_official: leave her alone you greedy children 👹 ➥ yourinstagram: ignore him! text me what you all want with inspiration photos and i will let you know!!!
messages • sebastian -> fernando
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igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!
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[caption1; hobby update >>>][caption2; to the woman at the craft store who put me onto oil paints...you saved my life][caption3; the wag crochet requests are almost finished!][caption4; first pottery class! had a really fun time :)]
user: i-i need to sit down👄 user: how do you even have time to do all of this?
user: i feel like i've never taken my hobbies seriously after seeing this
user: ffs how long have you been doing pottery? user: it's hard to learn at first but it's worth it if you stay committed 🫶🏽
instagram • yourinstagram
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liked by charlesleclerc, lilymhe, francolapinto, and 192,037 others
yourinstagram que divertido! thrown, painted, and fired by me 🌸
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user13: this is a reminder that there's always somebody out there doing what you love better than you 😒
➥ user14: wasn't she JUST at her first pottery class? and she already has a set of dishware 😨
user15: i feel like i have to apologize for even attempting pottery
user16: i would hate to give my gift after her on birthdays and christmas 😬😬😬
➥ user17: valid take. she can make custom clothes, paintings, and ceramics??? i might as well not even show up 🤦🏻‍♀️
kellypiquet: where do you even find the time to do this?
➥ yourinstagram: i have not slept for more than five hours in a very long time. it also distracts me when nano is away so, i keep myself busy. ➥ kellypiquet: please take better care of yourself! the clay will be there after you sleep and i'm sure fernando would like you to sleep too. ➥ fernandoalo_official: 8 hours at least mi amor ❤️ ➥ yourinstagram: fiiiiine 😞
lance_stroll: bring the domino set next time! i want to learn how to play!!!
➥ yourinstagram: i will make you cry if we play dominoes 🤫
user18: you need to start an etsy shop or smth? i think anybody would buy something from you!
➥ yourinstagram: if i do that, i'm afraid it would stop being a hobby and become a job. i don't want to lose the love i have for them :) user19: you could do limited releases? or just list a few items at a time? yourinstagram: i guess that's true. i don't think i will though, i didn't start my hobbies to make money. it's just fun for me 😁
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igstory • fernandoalo_official just uploaded!
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[caption; onto the next obsession]
user: damn you didn't lie about the entire botantical collection 😧 user: she's crazy user: i respect her grind though
user: and she made them look like actual boquets 😍 user: why didn't i think of that???
yourinstagram: they are not obsessions. yourinstagram: the proper term is hobby, we have talked about this nano 😒 fernandoalo_official: do you want the vespa or the bonsai…🤨 yourinstagram: both por favor! and get the porsche 911 kit while you are there 😚😚😚😚😚😚
user: she crocheted her own cover up dress user: i love women 🙂‍↕️
instagram • yourinstagram
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liked by fernandoalo_official, kellypiquet, landonorris, and 317,940 others
yourinstagram um hobby? ok. quatro hobbies ao mesmo tempo? não repita meus erros 🤕
view comments
user20: ptbr to eng translation "one hobby? ok. four hobbies at the same time/once? do not repeat my mistakes 🤕"
➥ user21: thank u translator woman ➥ user22: thank u translator woman ➥ gabrielbortoleto_: thank u translator woman ➥ user24: one of these things is not like the others 🧐
landonorris: can't wait till it gets chilly in monaco 😌
➥ landonorris: the only thing i'm going to be photographed in is my crochet beanie and sweater ➥oscarpiastri: i'm surprised you're not wearing it now since you're perpetually cold ➥ landonorris: i didn't want to bring it in my luggage in case it's the time i lose my luggage 🤓 ➥ oscarpiastri: wow…that's smart ➥ landonorris: why do you sound so surprised 🤨
lilymhe: i see you learned how to make granny squares 😆
➥ yourinstagram: it took me three whole days to make one 🤧 ➥ lilymhe: damn 💀 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not lying when i say making that first granny square was harder than making your cardigan 😮‍💨
fernandoalo_official: is it weird if i feel proud of you?
➥ yourinstagram: i think it is something to be proud of :) ➥ fernandoalo_official: well i am very proud of you mi amor 😘 ➥ yourinstagram: 🥰😚😚❤️❤️❤️
user25: those paintings!!!! woah, you're like a serious artist now 😨😳😱
➥ user26: fr! you can see her own unique style clearly in these! ➥ yourinstagram: you all are too sweet! it took me a while to switch from reference painting into creating my own art pieces! ➥ alexandrasaintmleux: i wasn't joking when i said i want to put your work in a gallery 🤭🥱 ➥ yourinstagram: alex pleaseee 😖
user28: what are you going to do next? book binding LMAO
➥ yourinstagram: you are right! nano is out buying the supplies for me now 😁 ➥ user28: i was joking 😟 ➥ yourinstagram: and after that i think i am going to learn how to make a cute scrapbook!
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© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos used are from pinterest. divider from @cafekitsune.
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mimimui · 5 months ago
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how they spend nights with you
includes: bakugo, midoriya, todoroki, kaminari, shinso, monoma
tags: gn!reader, you're in the same class as them, established relationship, fluff, i used to strictly be a bnha author (??!) and i just missed them so much
a/n: it's been over a year i think (ᵕ—ᴗ—) my writing might be ass rn but i promise i'll lock in soon!!!!!!!! i genuinely miss writing, but as soon as i entered a higher level of education, i lost all free time and couldn't continue writing. but ur fav hc writer is back!
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katsuki will not stay up later than 8pm on a school day because he cares a lot about his rest, but if it's a weekend or you're on break, he'd be willing to stay up later with you.
he doesn't care much for the dorm rules, especially since you're his partner anyway, so he will definitely stay in your room past curfew. curse those who catch him in your dorm late at night. what are they going to do?
he's up for whatever you want to do, honestly. movie marathon? self-care night? cleaning your room? he'll do it all. he might jokingly complain here and there, but he's truly relaxed around you. he'll spend nights however you'd like.
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everyone knows that izuku isn't one for sleeping early. your nights consist of watching him train outside the dorm building, or sitting on the floor of your room exchanging notes.
if you wanted to do something fun, he wouldn't refuse, but he'd be going back to his own room at the end of the night. not because he doesn't want to sleep with you, he just does it out of respect. your rooms' beds can only accomodate one person comfortably, and he doesn't want to disturb you!
he's more of a morning person, really. so if you'd like a jogging partner or a breakfast buddy, he's up bright and early with you.
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he knew that getting into a relationship meant spending a lot of time together, but shoto hasn't received much affection before, so he wasn't quite sure where to start.
when you first suggested spending nights in either of your rooms, he didn't see any problems in it. he quickly got used to this routine, and he always expects to see you at his door after dinner time. you mostly only talk about the happenings of the day and your plans for tomorrow.
neither of you initiate sleeping together at the end of the night, but he isn't opposed to it. he's thought about it, of course, but he won't say anything until you say something first.
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denki will match your energy in anything. if you want a quiet night, he'll just be by your side as you both scroll through your phones. if you want a more fun night and do something, he'll be up and at 'em as much as you are.
he is the best person to try new things with because he's just as curious as you. if you want to sneak around the kitchen to make up a new snack, he would be your little flashlight to help you out.
he definitely glows a little in the dark, so if you want to sleep with him, you have to cover him completely with a blanket. he jokes that it's because he's the light of your life, and even if that's true to you, you'd never let him know it. he might glow even brighter.
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hitoshi has a hard time falling asleep, so he's grateful for your company every night. he usually asks you to come to his room, but if he feels especially awake, he'd go to your room. you mostly just watch movies together until both of you feel sleepy enough to lie down on bed.
the first time you asked to sleep in the same bed, you didn't think it'd be the last time you'd ever have to. sleeping together is a must now. you have no choice, he loves sharing a bed with you. he thinks it's a good thing to have someone warm next to him as he tries to sleep. it's comforting.
fyi, he has one pillow on his bed. just a single one. so... good luck!
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neito needs to see you every night. every time, without fail, he will always end up at your door. you don't even need to do anything together, he just wants to be in the same room as you.
he won't sleep with you if you don't want to, but he's always excited when you ask him to. not because he's planning anything malicious, he's just really happy to be so close to you. to hell with the rules, he will stay in your room if it's the last thing he'll do.
he will probably get in trouble for staying in your room more than in his own, but he wouldn't care much for it. you're his partner, so it's worth getting into a little trouble.
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thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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belxveds · 1 year ago
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Could you write a fic where the reader is Stark’s daughter and he catches her and Peter fooling around in her room/main room whilst they think he is out?
caught in a web of kisses
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pairings: peter parker x f!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader
brief: (requested!) misunderstandings and compromising situations with peter lead to a whole of cackling and screaming throughout the stark tower compound. a brief look into the life of y/n stark and your struggles with your stupidly overprotective dad and chaotically cute boyfriend.
tags: humour. fluff. borderline crack fic. "enemies" to lover. established relationship.
a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i appreciate it :) it always makes fills me with so much joy to know someone seeks out my writing <3
requests are open!
wc: 1.4k
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Perhaps it wasn't your smartest idea to pretend to absolutely despise your father's intern in front of your parents and the Avengers but . . . well- how could you possibly resist yourself when it was so much fun sharing sneaky, mischievous smiles with Peter as you both shot teasing glares across the room to maintain your appearance as rivals?
Plus, it was just a little prank to keep your relationship with Peter, as well as the days spent at the compound, more interesting. If anything, you and Peter were single handedly entertaining the entirety of Avengers with your debates and arguments. You were fairly sure they had bets going on about the two of you. It was harmless, really.
And it wasn't like you were going to keep it from them forever! You would tell them . . . eventually. You just- hadn't thought anyone would find out like this. With you and Peter in such a . . . compromising situation?
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You almost let out a small groan of exhaustion as you sunk into the unnecessarily large couch your dad had purchased for the lounge, melting into Peter's side as you fiddled with the remote to lower the lights and dim the windows. Pouting at the sliver of light that still managed to peek through the sunroof, you let out the smallest huff as you closed that as well before turning to take a glance at your boyfriend.
He let out a small yawn before shifting with your attention on him, cuddling into you tighter as he murmured, "You sure no one will be back for another 2 hours? 'Cause I swear if we get caught because you wanted to take a nap on the couch, I will never let you live this down."
Snuggling deeper into the blanket you'd draped over the two of you, you couldn't help but let out the smallest breathless laugh as you responded, "That's if they don't kill you first."
"Hey!" Peter quipped, voice growing the tiniest bit slurred as the nap you promised him began to look awfully tempting, "I'll have you know that I think your dad and also everyone else is quite fond of me, alright?"
You couldn't help but let out a snort as you mocked, pretending to push up fake glasses on the bridge of your nose as you raised the pitch of your voice, "I'll have you know-"
The gentle whack you got on your arm made you stop mid-sentence as you giggled, answering your boyfriend more seriously, "Everyone's schedule says they have stuff going on until at least 6:00, unless they were all just to magically-"
"What happened to, "God dad, if I have to see your stupid intern's face one more time, you're going to have to hold me back from stealing your repulsors and pulverizing the shit out of him?""
You're entire body pauses as you feel Peter tense in your arms, the both of you wincing in sync as you slowly, cautiously, turn your head around to face your dad, voice dragging out as you say nervously, "Uhm...so you see-".
Peter's bewilderment is audible as his head snaps to you, eyes furrowed in confused amusement as he hisses, "Why the fuck are you starting to quote Dhar Mann right now?"
"Peter", your dad interrupts, tone much too pleasant for the situation at hand and consequently sending both your spines into automatically locking up straight as you await his next move, fight or flight instincts activated, "You have 3 seconds to run."
"Mr. Stark, we can talk about this-"
"3 . . ."
"Oh shit!", your boyfriend scrambles, legs tangling into themselves and the blanket in his attempts to get free and run as he presses a ragged kiss to your forehead while declaring muffled through his panicked breath, "If I don't make it out of this alive, just know I wanted you to have my babies and be Y/N Parker-Stark."
The confession sends a surprised wheeze to rack through your body as you see him begin to take down the hallway, sparing a glance over his shoulder at you and your dad before maneuvering himself onto the ceiling and into the vents.
Your eyes tearing up from laughter, you try to speak through your immobilizing giggles as you address your dad, "Dad, father dearest, please- come on- spare him-" "2 . . ." "Dad! C'mon- you have to admit . . . from a completely scientific and objective lens with zero romantic emotions taken into account, considering all the teenage boys out there, Peter is definitely one of the better choices", you tried to level, summoning the critically-acclaimed award winning Y/N Stark inside of you and not the moderately concerned girlfriend worried that her boyfriend's cause of death may in fact be the same repulsors Peter had helped your father tweak in the lab earlier today. How unfortunately ironic. Shuffling over, albeit a bit awkwardly, to where your dad stood, you cautiously peered closer at his profile, trying your best to assess exactly how much trouble you were in. You knew deep down, he truly wasn't all that upset, though, maybe a bit grumpy about having been kept out of the loop for this long. In fact, you were positively confident he was quite happy with who you had chosen. Despite all of his teasing and successfully accomplished fatherly duties of bullying the both of you, it was stupidly evident how much he cared for Peter like a son. Not just anyone was allowed to intern for the Tony Stark, after all.
Lost in thought, you couldn't help but yelp slightly and flinch into your father's side as a muffled voice echoed down from the ceiling, cooing, "Aww Y/N, you really mean that?"
Cursing at your boyfriend's surprising lack of self preservation skills taking into consideration his literal job and particular set of talents, you glared upwards. Hoping your disappointment at his lack of distance somehow radiated through the insulated plaster, you deadpanned, "No, I was just playing. I wish I'd gotten with Harley."
"What?!" squeaked Peter, like a little vent rat, his offended gasp echoing in time with your dad's final countdown.
Giggling once again at Peter's frightened scuttling at the realization that he was out of time, you quickly reached to grip at your dad's suit clad bicep before he could make a motion to call at the Iron Man suit, your voice taking on a more serious tone as you asked softly, his opinion and approval still highly valuable to you, "You're ok with me and Peter dating though? Genuinely?"
The twitch of his signature smirk on the corner of his lips and the nodding glint in his eyes sent a happy thrill through your heart, instinctively grinning wide as you squealed and rushed to give him a tight hug, speaking through a stifled smile into his chest, "Ok, you have my consent to go squish my little spider now. Please don't bring him back to me flattened or burnt- I quite like how he is now." Your father's wrinkled nose and vocal sound of disgust at how you'd addressed his intern sent you into another fit of laughter as he spoke, "Ground rules since I know the kid's out of his freaky super-hearing range. One, ew. Never address him like that again, I might vomit. Two, if I see the two of you touch, I am immediately invoking a 50 year social-distancing ban between the two of you. 6 feet and everything. I'll throw in permanent masks if I ever catch you two kissing. Three, . . . no promises."
"In response- One, . . . no promises. Two, you don't want spider grandbabies crawling up the walls? All I'm hearing is that we can't get caught. Three, I'll tell mom", you grinned pulling back, your gaze filled with amusement and the look of humoured adoration you often had reserved specifically for your dad as he let out a little whine in complaint at your threat of telling Pepper.
It would just be a little rough up. You know, the classic "hurt my daughter and you're dead" speech. And Peter was Spider-Man! He'd be fine . . . probably.
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mailbox ༶•┈ peter parker's mailbox! ┈•༶ send letter
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2K notes · View notes
zorostitties · 1 month ago
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Intertwined; 1
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⤕ Luffy and you were like two sides of the same coin: opposites in every way, but similar in what mattered the most. Tied by a vow made with the purity of a child's heart, life keeps trying to tear you apart - but the vow that intertwined your destinies would not be broken so easily. Or, Luffy promised to marry you someday when you were kids. This is how he keeps his promise.
pairing: monkey d. luffy x (f) reader
genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, eventual smut
warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, toxic family relationships, death/grief, when i say slow burn i mean it
rating: 18+
word count: 6k
A/N: I've had this fic in mind for ages but finally managed to squeeze the words out of my brain thanks to the encouragement of my followers 🥹 This fic is an attempt to write Luffy in love in the most beliavable/close to canon way possible. Let's hope I'll succeed :D - This is a afab!reader insert, so no physical traits will be described EXCEPT that I'm giving you reading glasses because Luffy needs to give you a silly nickname based on your appearance like he does to everybody. - If you like the fic, PLEASE interact with it so I can keep motivated to write the next parts 🥹 And per usual, English is not my first language. Enjoy!!
⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!
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- PART 1 -
"A secret shared by us alone, a smile the wind would carry. In the yard, just you and I knew how the world was merry."
- Cecilia Meireles
➛ 8
Heavy rain fell over the Goa Kingdom the night you killed that man.
Alex Husquid was his name. A small nobleman, heir to the Husquid fortune and businesses. Born and raised at the Dawn Island, probably never left the East Blue and probably never would have wanted to, since his source of power and prestige was located here. Married to a woman called Frida. Father of three healthy boys, all around your age.
Just a common, law-abiding citizen in this god forsaken corner of the world.
But his successful whiskey business pissed someone bigger than him, which meant he had to die.
You didn’t know who your contractors were – you never did. They hid behind Den Den Mushis with voice distortion or faceless messengers. Discretion and secrecy was the soul of the business; that went both ways. The contractors didn’t know who you were either. Didn’t know your face, or your brothers’ faces, or your mother’s, or your father’s, or your grandfather’s…
No one should see the face of a Scarpia family member and live to tell the next day.
Your breathing echoed inside the mask made especially to hide your small face. Your grandfather threw the runes made of bones the day you were born, and the runes said that your animal – the one that would represent your soul the most – was the wolf. And so, your mask was the image of a wolf’s face. Eerily white, contrasting with the black raincoat you wore.
The wolf is an auspicious animal, your grandfather said. Lone. Smart. Ferocious. Good to business.
The entire family expected you to honor this mask that night.
It was your first trial – the first time an assassination was assigned to you, the first time you’d have to take a commission on your own. Up until then, you’d only assist your brothers or watch them work from far. But you were eight years old now, and that was the right age to be initiated. You had trained enough. You were ready.
Just a small commission. Alex Husquid was a nobleman, but not that noble. This little and humid archipelago in the East Blue was far from being important. Not a death that would cause a stir. It honestly even felt that your father was belittling your capabilities with this commission. Why were you assigned to kill a short ugly nobleman at the end of the world, while Crowley who was only one year older got commissioned with Marines or troublesome pirates in the New World?
Because I’m the girl, you thought with resigned anger.
Well. Whatever.
It’s not like you wanted to impress them anyway. This was boring. The travel to the East Blue was boring, this commission was boring, having to stare at Landon’s ugly mustache the entire travel was boring. The only good thing that came from this initiation is that it also happened to be your birthday. The only day in the year where you had permission to do whatever you wanted.
So you just had to get this over with.
Alex Husquid was alone in his office, scribbling something on his desk. You watched him intently from the roof of the nearest house. Heavy rain fell over your head, lightnings illuminated the night sky from time to time, thunders roared. This storm would be your perfect ally.
Alex had left a breach on his window, probably to let some fresh air enter the room despite the rain.
That mistake would cost his life.
It wasn’t hard to jump from the roof into his room. Your feet made no noise when they touched the carpet. Your presence, barely a breeze from outside. But despite your best efforts, it called Alex’s attention.
Your father and grandfather had talked about it many times – and you had seen it from far, too, observing your brothers work. Humans have a weird sixth sense. They somehow always know death is near.
And death, to him, came in the form of a child.
Alex got a bit startled, but sat down again on his leather chair. All he saw was a kid wearing a white wolf mask. All he thought was that one of his sons put a funny costume to spook him.
A smile was beginning to take form on his chapped lips.
He didn’t have time to complete it.
You focused on your right hand. Your nails grew, sharpened like blades. When you launched yourself towards him, you made no noise – no disturbance in the room despite your inhumane speed, no wrinkles on the carpet. Silent. Fast. Unnoticeable. Like it should be.
Your nails slit his throat faster than his mind could comprehend. A deep cut, deep enough so he wouldn’t be able to scream. His eyes widened. He gagged in silent despair. He looked at the figure of a child standing over his desk, their face hidden behind a white wolf mask, and tears welled up his eyes.
He would be dead in a minute.
You knew it’d take a long time for anyone to find his body. The entire house was asleep. So you decided to stand there and watch until life completely left his body – until he stopped trembling, until he was soaked with his own blood, until his eyes were empty.
Just an uninhabited corpse.
Boring.
You flew out the same window you used to enter.
While landing on the nearest roof, you looked down at your right hand. Your nails were back to normal; your fingertips were bloody. You frowned. That wasn’t a clean cut. You’d have to work on that.
“Congratulations on your first solo commission, Young Mistress.”
An instinctive huff emerged from your chest. Of course, you knew he’d be around – he was always around, this boring old man. You turned around to face Landon and his annoying mustache.
The butler wore his usual boring black suit and boring white gloves and boring umbrella to protect him from the rain. Despite his words, he had the same blank expression over his features. Hell, was he boring.
“I should note, however, that you were sloppy. Your target noticed your presence. You also caused unnecessary mass bleeding. A good assassin is always–“
“Clean.” You concluded for him with annoyance.
Landon didn’t seem to care. He never seemed to care about anything.
“It’s past midnight. It is now your birthday. What do you wish to do?”
“I wish to be left alone.” You didn’t bother looking back at him as you took off your mask and shoved it inside the bag crossed around your chest. “Do not follow me.”
Landon wasn’t surprised. You spent most of your time trying to run away from him, his lessons, his unstoppable and overwhelming watch. Sometimes you managed to get some time alone. Most times you didn’t.
But it was your birthday, so today he had to obey.
Not that you’d have much to do in this boring island at this boring kingdom at the least interesting part of the ocean.
At least, you’d be truly alone for the next 24 hours.
You jumped from roof to roof away from Landon, satisfied to know that he wasn’t following you for once – and wondering if this island could entertain you in the only day of freedom you had.
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The town was boring. As expected.
Small. The buildings weren’t very tall, there weren’t many nice stores or restaurants. It was even funny how the people living at this part of the island walked around with high chins and chests full of pride… their city, their properties and titles were nothing compared to the magnificent islands of the New World. But they were just simple minded creatures, you knew; they never planned to leave this place. They would never understand that the world was vast and that they didn’t matter on the grand scheme of things.
So you didn’t waste much time there.
Then there was the giant junkyard at the other side of the city, separated from it by a high wall. Mountains and mountains of trash, rubble and junk extended for maybe two or three kilometers. It smelled as bad as you’d expect and a strange gray fog hovered in the air. Gray Terminal was a suitable name, indeed.
Surprisingly, that place was a bit more interesting than the town.
Poor people gathered like vermin over meat around the junk mountains. Scavengers looking for anything valuable. In the span of maybe thirty minutes, you saw a few fights popping here and there. It was a bit entertaining to sit and watch how normal people fought. But you decided to leave not only because the place really smelled bad, but because your good clothes and your neat pigtails would probably draw unwanted attention.
So you walked into the woods nearby – and finally, things got interesting.
One or two hours of walking took you deep into the forest. It was very obviously a rainforest with the heat and humidity expected from it, which made you take your raincoat and jacket off, shoving them inside your backpack. You quickly realized you were, in fact, climbing a mountain. The human sounds were replaced with the sounds of nature – leaves shuffling, birds chirping, and the noises of many other unknown animals.
What caught your attention at first was the sheer size of the trees – the deeper you got into the mountain, the bigger they got. Some seemed to be taller than thirty meters. Some branches were thicker than actual tree trunks.
But you soon found out that the trees weren’t the only giant things there.
The floor shook beneath your feet in regular intervals. Steps of something extremely heavy.
You expanded your perception to a wider radius than what your eyes could see and your ears could hear – and came to a conclusion. Immediate danger.
You swiftly jumped up to the nearest tree, standing on its lower branch – which was still pretty high, probably eight meters away from the ground, and waited in complete silence.
What came from between the trees made your eyes widen.
A bear. But not just any brown bear. That thing was colossal. Ridiculously big. Its claws seemed to be as tall as you.
And finally, you were excited about something.
You immediately took the small notebook from your backpack and started sketching the beast, silently regretting not bringing a Den Den Mushi to take a picture of it (you knew Landon would put a tracking device on it if you brought one with you, so you decided not to). You sketched the creature as fast as you could before it could disappear inside the forest again, making quick annotations around the drawing.
You knew that many islands had strange and unique fauna and flora, though you’d only read about it in books. You’d never seen abnormal animals like that, and honestly didn’t expect to find anything like this out of the Grand Line.
A small smile grew on your lips.
Your birthday wouldn’t be that boring, after all.
You looked down at the notebook and tightened your eyes. Oh… the bear came and went so quickly that you didn’t have time to put your round reading glasses on. After taking them from the backpack, you could see with clarity that you missed many details. You sat down on the branch and made the finishing touches.
It was time to move on.
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You began to feel a little hungry past noon.
Not that you weren’t used to not eating for long periods of time. A good assassin must be in control of all of their physiological necessities at all times. What if a commission takes place at a critical environment? What if you need to be undercover for long periods of time to study your target? Things like hunger should be brushed aside. You’d only eat when your body begged for it.
But you were so entertained that your rumbling belly was just an afterthought.
Only a day wouldn’t be enough to catalog all of what you’ve found. Who would’ve thought this insignificant island would have so much to offer?
Going deeper into the mountain, you saw even more strange animals. Giant tigers and more bears and alligators in a river nearby. Why did the fauna at this island became so gigantic? What must’ve happened in their evolutionary process? In the span of only a few hours, you filled more than twenty pages with sketches and notes.
Morpho menelaus, you scribbled at the top of the page while checking your Insect Encyclopedia to be completely sure. It was pretty unmistakable: the beautiful blue wings of the butterfly resting in front of your eyes couldn’t be replicated by any other species. You held your breath, made sure to not produce any sound as to not scare the butterfly away. Why didn’t I bring a Den Den Mushi?, you scolded yourself for the hundredth time. It would’ve made your life so much easier.
You were almost finishing the sketch. This butterfly had a very specific black pattern at the tip of its wings and you wanted to convey it perfectly. You rushed to catch its details before it would go away–
“What are you doing?”
You gasped and turned around in a jump.
Of course, you knew there was something approaching – but it didn’t exude immediate danger, so you assumed it was just a squirrel or something.
It definitely wasn’t a squirrel.
It was a… boy.
The stranger looked at you with round, curious dark brown eyes – so dark that they almost looked completely black. A bit shorter than you, but definitely your age; his hair was a mess of black, almost completely hidden under a straw hat that was too big for his head. His olive skin was covered with dirt, just like the rest of his clothes – a red tank top and battered jeans shorts. He had a thin curvy scar under his left eye and a bandaid over the bridge of his nose.
He blinked.
You blinked.
But slowly, your surprise dissipated. A frown set on your face.
...Boring.
You turned around. The butterfly had obviously flown away. An annoyed sigh went past your lips.
You started to walk away.
“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He whined. His voice was annoyingly high pitched. You heard the tap tap of his sandals fast approaching. “What are you doing here? Are you lost?”
“Do I look lost?” You groaned between gritted teeth. Why did you even answer him?
“Well, then, are you stupid?”
This made you turn to look at him.
He didn’t seem bothered by your angry face.
“Why the hell would you want to climb Mt. Colubo alone?” The boy continued. “Never seen you ‘round Foosha or downtown. You’re from High Town, aren’t you? With those fancy clothes and all?”
You went back to walking.
He followed.
“This forest is pretty dangerous, did you know that? It’s not a place for the weak.” Then what are you doing here, too?, is what you wanted to ask, but you resigned to stay silent. “It’s full of monsters and poisonous snakes and bandits. They’ll want to steal you.” More silence. “By the way, my name is–“
“Shhhh!” You shushed him angrily before jumping to the branch of a tree.
You immediately opened your notebook again and started scribbling while crouching down.
To your distaste, you heard him jump after you. “What are you–?”
“Shhhh!” You shushed more aggressively this time. “You’ll scare it away!”
The boy tilted his head to the side and finally found what you were looking at while sketching rapidly.
“Ooooh,” he was surprisingly quiet this time.
Onychocerus albitarsis, you wrote at the top of the page. Commonly known as Scorpion Beetle. The brown, black and white insect moved slowly, its long antennae scooping the wood beneath it.
“This one’s pretty poisonous, did you know that?” He said. You didn’t need to turn your head to know he was looking from over your shoulder.
“Hmm.”
“I learned it the worst way.” He hissed as if remembering the pain of the sting. “You ain’t never seen one before? There are plenty of these here.” Silence. “None at the High Town, I guess? Yeah, I don’t think these stuck up people like insects.” More silence. “Is this why you’re here? To see insects?” He leaned away slightly. “Are you some sort of insect hunter?”
You paused for a second.
Shit. He definitely saw the family crest embroidered on the back of your shirt: the red symbol of a scorpion. You were sloppy once more. No one was supposed to see that family crest.
At the same time, there was no way this boy would know what it meant, so you decided to brush it aside.
“Well, I’m a pirate.” He seemed proud of himself, a sonorous smile in his voice. “Huh, not yet, but I’ll be one day. I’m gonna be the King of Pirates!” Silence. The boy hummed after a few seconds. “You’re pretty boring, did you know that, Four Eyes?”
You whipped your head at him for the first time.
“What did you just call me?”
“Four Eyes.” He was, once again, unbothered by your ferocious glare. His eyes fell over your notebook. “But you draw pretty well. Not better than me, though. Oh! It’s gone.”
You turned back in time to see the beetle flying away.
You sighed deeply and got up again while looking at him angrily. The boy got up, too. He either didn’t understand why you were angry or simply didn’t care.
“...I only wear glasses when I need to read,” you said between gritted teeth.
He blinked.
“And?”
You rolled your eyes and jumped to the floor again.
“Where are you going now?”
“Why are you following me?” You retorted. From the corner of your eye, you saw him rest both hands behind his head in a relaxed position.
“I got nothing better to do and I don’t see other kids here often.” Then, he opened a wide grin – you could probably see all his teeth with that smile. “Let’s be friends!”
You looked ahead again, feeling your stomach twirl.
Your father’s deep voice echoed inside your mind.
A Scarpia family member does not have friends.
Friends are weaknesses. A Scarpia only needs another Scarpia.
You tightened your fists.
No one should see the face of a Scarpia family member and live to tell the next day.
If you followed these rules to a ten, you’d have killed that boy already.
It’s what your father would have wanted. It’s what your brothers would have done. You’d seen them doing that before. This weird straw hat kid had already seen your face unmasked and the family crest on your back. If Landon were here, he would even have finished him for you.
It wouldn’t be hard to kill him. He wouldn’t even notice you slicing his throat with your nails.
But…
He wasn’t a commission. You didn’t want to dirt your fingertips with blood if you didn’t need to. There was no way this boy even knew what the Scarpia family was.
So you quickened your pace without looking back.
He followed.
You started running.
He followed.
You sprinted.
“Hey!” He yelled…
And followed.
You ran in zigzag in between the trees, climbing thick vines and jumping down cliffs, trying to mislead him – but damn, that boy actually seemed to know where he was going, differently from you. He was slower, but that was definitely an advantage. Shit, stop following me! Leave me alone! Why are you following me anyway?! How are you keeping up?!
Why– why are you laughing?!
Actually laughing. Not in a mocking way. He laughed at the top of his lungs, that huge grin never leaving his face.
“I’m gonna catch you!” He yelled.
“No, you won’t!” You yelled back. Why were you yelling?
“Just you wait!” And he laughed again.
That stirred something inside you.
You focused all of your strength in your legs; you visualized the energy in your body gathering there like white lines. The burst of adrenaline. A technique to be used in an escape situation.
When you got impulse to step forward, the floor cracked beneath your feet.
You sprinted away – so fast that it almost felt like flying. The world around you went by in a confusing blur, wind howled on your ears with the speed. As you didn’t know the area, you didn’t know exactly how many meters you ran – five hundred meters? Seven hundred? Your record was nine hundred meters, and you hoped to reach a kilometer soon, preferably before Crowley could do it.
It took a lot of effort to stop.
You rested both hands over your knees, panting. That was the disadvantage of this technique: it was too tiring. You couldn’t do it more than once a day and you still didn’t know how to take turns, always sprinting on a beeline. Your father could do it as many times as he wanted and change directions in the blink of an eye. You hoped to reach his level someday.
Well. That was enough to mislead that weirdo, at least.
You straightened your back and dried your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. You had aimed north, which meant you went higher into the mountain… you’d have to find your compass inside the backpack to be sure. Luckily, you had been marking the trees as to find the way out easily–
And that’s when someone slapped the back of your neck.
You turned around in a jump, already taking a fight stance–
It was that boy.
He grinned so wide that it looked like his cheeks would rip apart.
“Tag! You’re it!” He announced before turning around and– and–
And running away.
You stood there, completely shocked, following him with your eyes.
How… how…?
Did he reach you in a minute and half?
He ran over five hundred meters in a minute and half?
Who the hell was that boy?!
He realized you weren’t following after a while. He turned around, still smiling – but confusion covered his features.
“You’re it!” He yelled from there as if reminding you.
He was distancing himself from you. You should take that opportunity to run in the opposite direction and finally get rid of him. But something made you stop – something that completely silenced the voice of reason, the voice of your father.
Curiosity.
“How did you do that?” You asked. He frowned.
“Huhhhh??” He put his hand in a shell near his ear. Oh. He was quite far.
“How–“ You cleaned your throat. Screaming was not something you were used to do. “How did you do that?!”
“Do what?!”
“Reached me so fast?!”
“Oh!” He grinned again – but there was something a bit mischievous about it this time.
You watched, confused, as the boy spun his right arm around many times.
You watched, shocked, when he threw his arm after taking impulse and it stretched.
It stretched and stretched and stretched to a tree standing by your side. He entangled his stretched arm around the trunk; his arm distended as if it was a rubber band and he came flying towards you.
You watched, jaw dropped, when he landed in front of you. His arm untangled from around the trunk and went back to normal with a very sonorous snap.
He grinned proudly.
“Like that!”
It took you a few seconds to recover.
“...You ate a Devil Fruit.”
He nodded.
“The Gomu Gomu no Mi. I became the rubber man!” He pinched his own cheek and it stretched too, before releasing it with, again, a sonorous snap. As if he needed to demonstrate it even more.
That was definitely a surprise.
You didn’t even think someone from this small island, so far from the Grand Line, would even know what a Devil Fruit is – let alone eat one.
You frowned slightly.
“My father says Devil Fruits are for the weak. Someone should be strong based on their inherent body capabilities alone.” That was hammered into your head over and over again… and you noticed with some distaste that you kind of sounded like Landon.
The boy crossed his arms. The smile never left his lips.
“Well, your father’s an idiot!”
Your jaw dropped again.
That scrawny dirty looking boy just called Scarpia Drachen an idiot.
And at that moment – something very very strange and very very unusual happened inside of you, something you couldn’t control, and it was like you could hear Landon’s annoying husky voice echoing in your ears that you should always be in control of your body and your reactions–
But you couldn’t help it.
You laughed.
You covered your mouth and bent over slightly, the other hand gripping the fabric of the shirt over your stomach. I shouldn’t laugh! This is so so so disrespectful! I will be scolded for sure!
But– But Landon wasn’t there. Or your father. Or any of your brothers.
Just the weird stretchy boy.
And he thought that was funny, too. He giggled as if proud of himself.
“By the way, how did you do that?” He asked, crossing his arms. “You ran so fast that the ground cracked! That was faster than Ace! Is that an insect hunter ability or something?”
You didn’t know who the hell Ace was and you didn’t feel like asking. You straightened your back after swallowing the laughter. “Yeah. We… we train to be faster than everybody.”
Why were you talking to him? Why did you answer his question? Why hadn’t you mislead him yet? What was wrong with you? No no no– that was wrong. You needed to get away from him as fast as possible.
But, for some reason, you didn’t move.
The straw hat boy grinned mischievously again and rubbed his hands.
“But I bet you’re not faster than me! I already know your technique, it won’t surprise me anymore!” He started walking on his back at a fast pace while still grinning at you. “C’mon, you’re it!”
But you still didn’t move.
“Do you… want me to chase you?”
“Duuuuh, that’s how it works, Four Eyes!”
You still didn’t understand.
“Why? Is this some sort of training?”
He finally stopped running.
“How come, why?” Now he looked confused. “Because it’s fun!”
The boy grinned.
It… seemed so easy for him. So obvious. Like you were the stupid one there.
...Fun?
Fun was the opposite of boring.
You weren’t bored searching for animals and cataloging them. You liked to draw, you liked to be left alone. You knew that the right thing to do would be to distance yourself.
But he was jigging from side to side excitedly and that made your heart beat faster for some reason. The same way it was beating faster when you were trying to mislead him. Because of adrenaline, you knew – that was the obvious answer. But maybe… maybe…
It was because it was fun.
You started to walk towards him. He laughed excitedly and turned around.
Then you were running.
Then you were sprinting.
He changed directions either with his legs or gripping tree trunks with his abnormal ability to drastically take turns. You ran after him, unable to use that burst of adrenaline again, but that wasn’t necessary… if you did it, you’d reach him quicker and it would all be over too soon. It wouldn’t be fun.
So you caught him without cheating. But he wasn’t angry or disappointed when you did – he just laughed at the top of his lungs and yelled, my turn!
And then you were being chased.
And then you were laughing.
And then he caught you and it was your turn to yell you’re it!
And then you were breathless and your stomach hurt from laughing but you didn’t want to stop.
Because… because it was fun.
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“I wanted meat!” He whined unhappily.
You side eyed him while munching your slice of watermelon. Even though he kept complaining, he was eating his anyway – and it was a bit scary how fast he ate and how big his bites were. He was finishing his… second? Third watermelon? You weren’t counting.
When both of you got way too tired – and that took a lot: the sun was starting to set – you decided to rest for a bit and eat something. A clearing nearby had a plantation of watermelons. It was obviously cultivated by someone, but turns out he had no idea who it was or if they would mind if you’d take some. You certainly didn’t mind taking them.
You’d been sitting side by side, facing a cliff with a gorgeous view of the forest and sunset ever since.
“And how would you find meat?” You asked absentmindedly while munching.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’d hunt! There are tons of weird animals here!” He took another big bite and tilted his head at you. “You’re kind of slow, aren’t you, Four Eyes?”
“My name’s not Four Eyes,” you said between gritted teeth. You didn’t even realize you were still wearing the glasses… you took them off and shoved them inside the backpack.
“What’s your name, then?”
You froze.
You hadn’t given him a name. He hadn’t told his either, even though you’d been playing for the past few hours.
But you couldn’t give him your real name. That was a basic rule: no one should see your face. No one should know your name. Every interaction with an outsider had to be calculated and well-thought out for the safety of the family.
The straw hat boy had already seen your face and the family crest.
But… it’s not like he had any idea what the Scarpia family was, right? So giving him a fake name would suffice.
“...Wolfie,” you lied after the first thing that came to mind. You immediately regretted it, realizing how silly it sounded after the made up name left your mouth, but it was too late to correct it now.
He nodded and swallowed a big bite before grinning. His mouth was all dirty with watermelon juice. “My name’s Monkey D. Luffy and I’m gonna be the King of Pirates!”
He didn’t seem to notice how stupid your “name” sounded… great. “...You already said that.” You looked ahead again. The sky had pretty hues of pink and orange as the sun disappeared slowly behind the horizon line. The treetops swayed softly with the wind, resembling sea waves of green. “Why do you wanna be a pirate?”
Why were you asking?
You had no idea. You weren’t supposed to find more about this Luffy boy. You weren’t supposed to be interested. But at the same time – you’d never see him again anyway, so what was wrong with making a question?
Right?
“Is it for the treasures?” It should be, you remarked, given how ragged his clothes were. Well, there was nothing wrong with wanting a fortune.
Luffy’s eyes gleamed with excitement.
“Pirates are the coolest people in the world!” He declared, gesticulating widely and setting the half eaten watermelon aside for the first time. “They go anywhere they want, do whatever they want and take what they want! They are free!” The more he talked, the more excited he looked. “My friend Shanks– he’s a pirate, too, and he goes on all sorts of adventures. He told me about it, all the islands and people and enemies he faced!” Luffy held the brim of his straw hat softly. “I made a promise that I’d become a great pirate like him so we can meet again in the sea someday!”
You hummed quietly.
The watermelon tasted sweet, way too sweet. You took another bite and munched it slowly.
“Freedom, huh?” Your voice was just a little bit louder than the wind. “Must be nice.”
“Right?” Luffy elbowed your arm excitedly. “The world is so much bigger than Mt. Colubo or Foosha Village or the Gray Terminal. There are so many islands out there! So many weird monsters and strong guys to fight!” He tightened his hands in fists and punched an invisible enemy. “That’s why me and Ace train everyday. To get even stronger!”
You side eyed Luffy again. He had an interesting ability, you had to admit, even though you were taught to despise Devil Fruit users. And yeah, he was definitely faster and stronger than the average kid your age. But… he was far from being strong. He was very killable, in fact. If he actually wanted to go to the seas someday, he had a long way to go.
Whatever. It was none of your business.
But even so – his speech about how vast the world is was kind of… touching, in a way. You knew about that, too. You’d been to many places, following your brothers in commissions or being taken to harsh environments to train. But you’d never… paid attention to anything. Everything was just training or business. Everything was boring.
But you thought Dawn Island was boring at first too – until you had the time and freedom to explore it and find all these giant animals and insects. Until you could look closely.
Maybe he had a point.
You swallowed another bite before speaking.
“There is an island I’d like to visit someday, you know.” You started slowly. Hesitantly. Luffy was paying attention, which somehow made you nervous. You weren’t used to that – someone actually listening to you. “I mean… an archipelago on the Grand Line. The islands are full of giant insects.”
“Giant insects?!” Luffy widened his eyes. “Do you think there are giant beetles there too?!”
“From what I’ve read, yeah. Beetles larger than houses. Spiders taller than giraffes. And carnivorous plants, too, big enough to eat a person.”
The straw hat boy giggled excitedly and bounced a bit while still sitting. He seemed unable to not move for a long time, you noticed. “You could fill entire notebooks with your drawings there!” Luffy eyed you up and down with somewhat of a smug expression. “Why haven’t you been there yet, though? You don’t look broke. I bet you have enough money to travel wherever you want.”
Your shoulder dropped a bit. “The Boin Islands are far. Very very far. And… I don’t think my parents would let me.”
Because it’d be useless. A waste of money and time. It wouldn’t make you a better assassin in their opinion… so what was the point?
Luffy filled his chest and pointed at himself with his thumb proudly. “No problem. I’ll take you there when I become a pirate! My ship will be huuuge with, like, two masts and a big crew. No storms will sink us. We’ll get there and see all the giant bugs!”
For the hundredth time that day, you had the strange, instinctive reaction to giggle. You had the even stranger thought that, yeah, traveling with him would be fun.
The straw hat boy stretched his arms and cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Hah… the sun’s setting, I should get back before Ace gets worried.” Luffy got up and looked down at you excitedly. “Come with me, Wolfie! The forest’s even more dangerous at night, but our place is safe. We got meat for dinner, too.”
It was a bit insane how he could think of eating more after chomping so many watermelons.
But… his reminder that the sun was setting filled you with sudden sadness.
It took you hours to get to the top of the mountain… it’d take more hours to get down. If you didn’t leave now, Landon would climb it to find you – he always found you somehow – and to see you with this boy would put you in serious trouble.
It would put him in serious trouble, actually. In danger.
So you sighed and got up, too, taking the backpack from the floor and putting it on your back.
“Sorry, I have to go now.”
Luffy quirked one eyebrow. “You sure? Ain’t you gonna get lost? Is someone coming to pick you up?” He put his hands on each side of his waist. “I’m serious, the forest is really dangerous at night! Not even us go around when it’s dark!”
“I’ll be fine.” It was a bit interesting how this boy, much weaker than you, seemed so worried for your safety. That was also unusual.
You stood there awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to do. You also weren’t used to goodbyes.
“Hm… I’ll… get going then.” You started to walk backwards while gripping the trap of the backpack nervously. “It was… it was nice meeting you.”
Luffy smiled and nodded. “See ya!”
You hesitated before turning around.
See ya. He probably thought he’d see you again soon. That was funny.
No. That was a bit sad.
Your eyes kept glued to the floor, shoulders dropped, as you made your way down the hill slowly. Maybe you could go back and spend a little more time with him… maybe meet this Ace he kept talking about. You could play a little more. Sketch a few more insects.
No no no. Landon was nearby. He’d kill Luffy on the spot. He had permission to kill anyone he deemed a threat to your safety or your education – and he’d do it without consulting your opinion.
It was better for Luffy to never see you again.
...Your steps slowed even more.
For the first time, you remember Alex Husquid – the man you killed as soon it turned midnight. How you stood there and watched as his eyes emptied. How it made you feel nothing but boredom. Just a commission, after all, like any other.
But why the idea of seeing that same thing happen to Luffy bothered you so much?
This… this weird short boy you met just a few hours ago?
Why did the fact that you’d never see him again made your heart tighten like that?
You suddenly stopped on your tracks.
Wait.
Maybe… maybe you could. Maybe you could see him again.
You turned around, ready to run up the hill again to find Luffy– but turns out he was still standing there, watching you go.
Your heart throbbed loudly. Your hands were sweating. That was wrong wrong wrong. But even so–
“Luffy!” You called. He smiled from far and waved. “Can I… Can I see you again next year?”
Luffy narrowed his eyes and put his hands over his knees. “Huuhhh?!”
Oh– right. You were already too far.
You tightened your hands into fists, feeling a mix of anxiety and embarrassment, before screaming:
“Can I see you again next year?!”
This time, your voice echoed through the woods.
Luffy widened his eyes in surprise. “Next year?! That’s too long!”
You were immediately taken aback. Was he brushing you aside?
“I… I live very far!” That wasn’t a lie. “Can I come or not?!”
Luffy straightened his back.
He grinned again – one of his big, big grins, so big that his eyes closed tight, so large that you felt your own lips curving up, too.
“Of course! I’ll be waiting for you!”
Why were you bouncing a bit? Why did a light weird squeal went past your lips?
“Okay! Let’s meet right here!”
“Okay!”
“Let’s play even more next time!”
“I’ll be even faster than you!” He giggled smugly.
“No, you won’t!” Oh no– you still had to leave. You turned around slowly and waved him a last goodbye. “Bye!”
Luffy waved back excitedly.
Finally, you turned completely and walked down the hill.
Then you were running.
Then you were laughing.
It was probably because of the adrenaline, you knew, but you also knew that it was because you had fun. Because you had something to look forward to – someone to look forward to.
And that was far from being boring.
No rain fell over the Goa Kingdom the day you made your first friend.
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