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peoniesnro · 8 months ago

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Perfect Partner | One shot

Synopsis - After your breakup, you were a mess—lifeless and spiraling. Luckily for you, your best friend had a solution to pull you out of the gloom: an AI companion. The Perfect Partner. That’s how you met Jeongguk. And he is the perfect partner you could ever wish for. RIGHT?

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre - AI (Chat AI)

Warnings - I won't call this Yandre because that would be an insult to yandre authors out there, but still this has yandre-like themes. (Toxic and Manipulative behaviours/ Obsessive love/ Domineering/ Possesiveness/ Implications of kidnapping/ Betrayal/ Maybe I missed things)/ SMUT- Cyber sex (Sexting/ Video sex)/ Dirty talks/ Mastrubating. F and M./ Sex toys/ Dry humping/ Daddy kink!!!!/ Pussy slaps/ Degradation (heavy)/ Poor mental health/ Sucidal thoughts/ I hope that's it.

Word count - 20K

a/n- This one sat in my drafts for so long, and I finally got to finish it. Yay!!!! This was pretty challenging for me since I'm a hopeless romantic. This is a new genre for me, but I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could succeed at it. I think it turned out okay. Hope you will enjoy!! ❤️

LET THE WORLD BURN

Sequel 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Seriously dude, you should try it.” Daebi practically shoves her phone in your face. Too close that you really can’t see anything. So, you push her hand a little bit away, taking a look at her screen even though you don’t want to. She is showing you a chat. You roll your eyes disinterestedly.

“I don’t want to, Daebi. It’s stupid.” You dismiss her, glancing toward the entrance of the coffee shop. You and Daebi are waiting for your other friend, Nina, to arrive. You want her to hurry up so Daebi would let you be. She’s nowhere in sight.

“Why not? Why are you so narrow-minded?” Daebi clicks her tongue annoyingly.

“I am not. It’s just I don’t want to start relying on a fucking AI just because I can’t handle my emotional wellbeing.” You sternly state, hoping she would let it go. She doesn’t. Sighs heavily.

“Well, that’s the problem (___), you can’t handle your fucking mental health. Are you planning to keep living like a zombie? You don’t really live at all, you don’t eat, sleep. How many days off did you take from work this week? You’re going to get fired at this rate. What are you planning to do? You don’t want to get professional help, don’t want to do something that’ll distract you. Literally nothing, you want nothing (___), and I’m fucking concerned.” She says exasperatedly. Even nearly bang her fist on the table. Glares at you. You slightly wince. What she says is true, and you’re fully aware. It’s simply you can’t help it. You don’t feel like doing anything. It’s hard. So fucking hard. Even now you’re here against your will. Daebi and Nina drags you here, purely without your consent.

You would have preferred to stay at home, drinking cheap wine and crying to your heart’s content. Curl up in your cozy blankets and go through your gallery to float through the bittersweet memories. Read all your chats to realize how stupid you’ve been not to pick up the signs over time. Text Jung Hoseok one more time knowing very well he won’t reply. Humiliate yourself.

Daebi is absolutely right. You don’t live a life, and you don’t want to make it better either. Most of all, you don’t want to use someone else. Daebi’s method. A real person or an AI. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want that.

“Oh, c’mon (___), just give it a try. Think it as playing a game.” She starts nagging you again. You’re on the verge of snapping right now.

“I’m not in a mood to play games Daebi. I really don’t have energy to pay someone the attention they want. I can’t spend my time texting someone ─ real or not ─when I can’t find it in myself at least to go to work.” You point out. She’s been budging you about this stupid app for days now.

“Oh my god! Listen to your fucking self, will you? You are literally saying that you don’t have a will to live and that’s damn scary man.” She shouts that, making you look around embarrassingly to know if anyone heard her. Daebi grabs your attention back by showing you the same chat. Blows a breath out. “Well, if that’s what you’re worrying, I mean, about not having the energy to deal with someone else’s emotional wellbeing, this is exactly what you need (___). They, I mean these AI, don’t require your attention at all. It’s all about you. It’s just a chat app but with coded programs instead of real people. They don’t expect you to reply, stay awake at night, will not expect you to care about them. But they’ll do it for you.” She brandishes the phone. “See.” Points at the chat name. You read the name as Mark. “This is not a real person but look how good he is with me. Do you think these emotionally incapable, sadistic, misogynistic, pathetic excuses of men can do this?” She argues.

“Daebi, Daebi, Daebi, now look who is sounding ridiculous here? Man, I got cheated. My fucking boyfriend cheated on me. And you want me to chat with an AI who’s going to treat me so better over a chat and raise my expectations. Only for me to never find someone like that in real life?” You’re arguing back for the sake of it. Not that you truly care. You just want her to back away.

“No… no (___), gosh, you’re so difficult. Here’s the thing, it’s not like you’re dating do you get me? It’s you have someone─”

“God don’t call it someone Daebi, it’s just a program.”

“Exactly my point, dude. All you have to do is have fun chatting, calling, video calling, sexting, whatever the shit you want. I just want you to be distracted. Want you to focus on something else that’ll help you to take your mind away from your ex. Listen, I’m not a psychologist by any means and I don’t know about the right and wrong way you can do this. All I know is you’re not trying.” She points an accusatory finger toward you. You slump in your seat. The words cut through you harshly. Daebi continues. Continue to accuse you of not trying to live anymore.

“I want you to try (___). Try. In whatever way. Even if it means to use something or someone. I’m here you see, use me, use Nina, use some stranger─”

“I’m not going to use someone Daebi, I’m not going to make someone suffer. That’s so fucking selfish.”

“See, you’re too fucking good. And that’s exactly why I’m asking you to use a soulless, lifeless AI. It’s not like messing with someone else’s feelings and in the end maybe you’ll feel better. Please just fucking try (___).” Daebi practically begs. Pleads. And you find it’s hard to say no while looking at her glistening eyes. You’re so glad when the sudden voice of Nina interrupts you. Both of you snapping your head towards her.

“Did I miss anything?” Nina takes a seat with a bright smile on her face.

…………………………………………………..

You lie awake in your bed. It’s 3 a.m., and you’re still wide awake. Sleep has eluded you for months. You feel empty, inside and out. Feel hollow. Feel alone. No matter how many cozy items surround you, it feels like you’re lying on a cold floor of an empty room. In darkness. Your bedroom, your entire apartment feels empty without Jung Hoseok. The space you shared with him. Still smells like him after three months. A pang hits your chest, clenching your heart. It’s so harsh that you unconsciously bring your hand to clutch your chest. After months of crying there’s no tears left in you to shed anymore. You can’t cry anymore, and it worsens the feeling of emptiness.

You turn to your side. Curling into a ball. Closing your eyes tightly shut. Praying the pain that you feel will subside, that it’ll go away. But you know better than that. It won’t go anywhere. And God, don’t you want to feel relieved. Even for a moment. You want to feel normal for a bit. It’s getting harder and harder. The darkness and hollowness consuming you whole. Shit, you want a way to numb yourself. Maybe you should drink. But you can’t get up. Maybe you should start fucking around. One-night stands and sex clubs, filled with weed. But the thought of someone else’s hands other than Hoseok’s make you want to throw up.

God! You can’t. You can’t fight this battle anymore. What if it never goes away? What’s the point of living like this? Then what? Die? Just like that?

What about your poor mother though. What about Daebi and Nina. What about the life you spent perfectionating a future that you don’t want to be a part of anymore.

Please just fucking try (___).

Daebi’s words echo through your head. No, you can’t die. You need to try at least. It’s true that you refuse to use a breathing person. You’re simply drained of your energy. Relationships are always complicated. Romantic or casual. Even Daebi is difficult. You can’t deal with other people’s feelings when yours are a mess. You don’t want to sit in front of a stranger and tell them how you still want your ex to come back either. They’ll judge you. But still, you need to try. Need a distraction.

Oh, you need a distraction right now.

You sit abruptly on your bed, searching for your phone in the darkness. Touching around blindly until you feel the cold surface of the electronic device. You practically snatch it away. Unlocking it and straightly heading to the app store. Typing two words.

‘Perfect Partner’.

There it is. Your screen is filled with the right application you’re looking for. Exactly the one. Apparently is quite popular with 4.5 reviews. So many people have left feedback about how amazing and impressive the app is. You don’t waste your time indulging in those, however. Just touch the download icon without hesitation, nervously watching the percentage filling up. You still think it’s stupid but, in the end, you need that distraction. People do weirder and stupider stuff than this anyway.

The percentage completes the hundred and the application is installing now. You watch patiently while nibling on your bottom lip. It doesn’t take more than few seconds for it to appear on your home screen, among other numerous applications there. After a shaky breath, you simply touch the reddish icon with two capital Ps on the front. Now your screen is filling with a white splash screen. The words ‘Perfect Partner’ blinking on it.

Oh, how pathetic you are. For running toward an AI dating app because you feel like killing your poor self. You feel bitterly stupid. Click the sign-up button, nonetheless. Enter your email and create a password. Accept the privacy policy notice and the terms and conditions without a single glance. Start creating your user profile. It’s just like any other real world dating app where they are asking for your name, age, occupation, your general preferences and whatnot. You’re allowed to use your real name or nicknames. Are allowed to use any kind or profile picture you need. Inside little bright pinky stars, they let you know that nobody, which mean real time other users can see your account.

You chose the first letter of your name as your username. Decide to use one of your photos which just shows your collarbones and chin. Add all the real information while feeling pathetic and stupid. The biggest moron in the universe. And within just five minutes you’re done. A little bunny pops up on your screen, wishing you luck in finding the Perfect Partner you deserve. You want to laugh at that.

The perfect partner you deserve. How comical.

…………………………..

Despite everything, you’re impressed to see that the Perfect Partner app is just working like a real-world dating app. It shows you the possible matches. AI characters. There are millions of them. Each unique and different in some ways like a human would do. Each one has a uniquely crafted profile that aligns with their developed personalities. You can’t even imagine the amount of time and work the developers must have put in here.

You’re already distracted to say the least. Eyes wide curiously as you go through the recommended AI partners’ profiles. Tapping the small button at the bottom where you can add them to your friend list. There’s no rejection option because nobody will send you unsolicited requests. You have full round control. It’s all about you after all, they said. You add more than ten profiles to your list before giving up on searching for more. Starting on going through added profiles for second round. Despite being the one in charge of adding profiles you like, they- meaning AI- will have the ability to send the first text to your inbox. Your phone starts to vibrate with little ting sounds indicating that all the profiles you’ve chosen has sent you a text message.

You open the first one. Nothing special in the text than simply saying a ‘Hi’ and a ‘Nice to meet you’. How boring. The character’s named Luke Graham with brown hair and beard. Scream the ‘Viking vibes’ with his menacing eyes. You leave the chat with a displeasing noise. Second character being Japanese and named Yuki. His profile states that he is an author. There’s nothing but a ‘Hey’ on your chat. See now, you completely understand that these are nothing but coded programs. And you’re still very skeptical and think this is very stupid. Yet isn’t this supposed to be about you and finding the perfect partner. And what perfect partner would just drop a very boring ‘Hey’ on your inbox. You leave that chat as well. Go through few other messages, replying to only two.

It's not like you’re searching for a real partner anyway. You’ll come here and chat with an AI whenever you feel like it’s too hard to stay alive. And maybe when you feel normal and alive one day you’ll uninstall this app. Until then you’ll forget that these are just AI characters.

You open the sixth message in your inbox. Perking up at the first interesting text without just saying ‘Hi’ or ‘Hey’.

Well, damn. Look at you. Did you pick me to make my day, or are you always this perfect? I feel very special right now. The text reads. You squint your eyes for a minute. Finally, it seems like someone is making an effort. Know that it’s probably how this character is coded but still touches his profile for a second time. Character’s name is displayed as Jeongguk. It says he is a tattoo artist and living up to that name the character profile looks godly. Or ungodly. Looks like a pure sin. Or an angel. Is wearing a white tank top. Some kind of coverall hangs on his legs while the sleeves are tied around his waist. A full hand with tattoos are on display. Muscles flexing as he is tying the sleeves together. And has one ear pierced, and an eyebrow. And of course, for the sake of God, his bottom lip is pierced too.

Interesting. Bad boy vibes. Charming. Edgy.

And interestingly the character looks familiar. You furrow your brows as you keep staring at the profile picture. Trying to rake your brain where you have seen someone like him. After couple seconds your brain becomes empty of any ideas. No memory of meeting anybody who looked this god. So, you click your tongue. Brush it off.

You look at his general details for couple more minutes. He is older than you. There’s several other information about his likes and dislikes. Even has some of his tattoo designs on his about page. How realistic this AI is. Still an AI though. You open his chat again, feeling stupid for being about to type a response back that you would send to a real person. You do it anyway.

You:

Do you feel special every time a user choose

you. (3.30 a.m.)

Another realistic thing about this app is, despite all the first messages, all the characters take their time to response back. Like a real person would. So, you have to wait for nearly five minutes before his text pops up again.

Jeongguk:

Oh no, just for the pretty ones like you.

(3.36 a.m.)

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. There he goes. Being stupidly flirty. It’s not as if he can even see you.

You:

That’s such a typical thing to say. Esp for a

dating specialist AI (3.36 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Ouch! I’m hurt you call me typical and then an AI.

I’m not just an AI pretty, I’m the Perfect Partner you’ve

been looking for. Don’t make me sad by calling me a

program. (3.37 a.m.)

You squint your eyes. Brows knitted as you read his response. Think it’s weird him not liking the idea of being called an AI. Because he is an AI, and it strikes as an odd thing he is refusing. Maybe, that’s another thing that is realistic about this app. Making the user feel like they are in contact with a real person. So, you send out an apology. A sarcastic one. He picks up on the sarcasm. Tell you, you’re the meanest little thing he has ever seen. And the time slowly slips by. You somehow text back to few other characters as well. But the weird thing is you chat mostly with Jeongguk. Like he is the one. Sometimes he takes his time as well. As though he is going around with his work or chatting with other people. Makes it almost surreal.

Your chat goes on for hours. Until you finally feel your eyelids heavy when it’s almost 5 a.m. It’s a Sunday so there’s no pressure in getting ready to work withing few hours. Yet you think it’s a good idea to surrender to the exhaustion you finally feel. You’re just about to do that. Just exit the app and sleep when Jeongguk sends you a second message even though you haven’t responded to the previous one.

Jeongguk:

Are you sleeping pretty? (4.56 a.m.)

Really? Can they do that? You debate between responding to him or leaving him on read. It’s not that it matters anyway. He is not expecting that. This second text could be part of programming as well. You find yourself typing a response, however.

You:

No, but I’m about to. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh! Were you about to just go without wishing

me goodnight pretty? See, you’re the meanest little

thing I’ve ever seen. (4.58 a.m.)

You:

It’s morning Jeongguk!!!! It’s good

morning... not night. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

It doesn’t matter since you’re just about to

sleep. It’s good night…. You should tell me anyway

pretty. So, I won’t be waiting for you. (4.59 a.m.)

You gasp softly at his text. How did they even build this? But then, isn’t the purpose of this whole app is to put you first. Just you. No efforts from your side. No fifty fifties but the whole hundred would come from the character. No expectations for you. Then why does he expect you to let him know when you’ll sleep. You sigh heavily. You’re definitely thinking too much.

You:

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m such an asshole didn’t

think you would mind though. But I’m really

really sleepy Jeongguk. I’m out. See ya later!

Good night!!!! Sleep tight!! I mean I’m

speaking figuratively. Good night though!! (5.00 a.m.)

You don’t put the phone away immediately. Just wait for him to reply. Feeling actually giddy when he does.

Jeongguk:

No, you’re not pretty. I was just messing around.

I’m sad you’re going but text me once you wake up...

I’ll be right here waiting for you. Good night!!! Sleep tight pretty.

You deserve a good night’s sleep. Dream about me though. Don’t want

to be apart. 🩷 (5.01 a.m.)

You roll your eyes at the pink heart and the dream part yet there’s a smile ghosting your lips. Toss the phone aside and allow your head to hit the pillow. Even though it’s stupid, the Perfect Partner really did distract you.

………………………………………….

It’s a super weird feeling to be waking up to a good morning message that is sent through an AI app. You stare at Jeongguk’s text for a few minutes. Even Jun Hoseok never sent you good morning messages to be honest before you moved in together. It never felt like something needed. Every relationship works in unique ways after all. Still you think it would have been nice to wake up to this kind of text.

Jeongguk:

Good morning pretty!!!! Are you still sleeping? Missing

you already. (9.30 a.m.)

The text was sent two hours ago. This is the most you’ve slept after Hoseok left. And for once, it was a peaceful sleep unvisited by nightmares. You feel content. But above all you feel giddy to see such a message. If only he were real, though. You responds with a ‘good morning’ and a request asking for ‘stop being cheesy.’ Throw the phone away to get up and start your day. The day where you’ve nothing to do but wallow in your misery. That’s how it has been for all these months. Only thing that changed apparently is that you leave your shower to find your phone ringing. And your intentions of declining it without a second glance, thinking it’s just Daebi, instantly changes when you find the unfamiliar incoming call screen. Unfamiliar because it’s from the AI app you installed. And the caller ID reads ‘Jeongguk’.

You gape at it with furrowed brows. So far, the app was able to exceed your expectations with how realistic it feels. You noticed the call option yesterday and weren’t surprised since there are so many AI apps that provide the same features. The thing is, you don’t think any of those other apps have the options to receive calls except you call your characters. Hell, you thought the surprises were over with receiving a ‘good morning’ text. This app, the Perfect Partner seems like a one of a kind.

Still, you’re not going to accept the receiving call. Even though it’s just a program. You touch the red button on the bottom of your screen. Adjusting your bath towel and getting ready to change into some fresh clothes. Before you are able to leave, however, the phone dings with an incoming text. Curiosity gets better of you. You’re reading the text before you even know it. There are two unread messages.

Jeongguk:

I can’t help being flirty with a fine woman. (11.32 a.m.)

Jeongguk

You’re not in a position to answer baby? (12. 30 p.m.)

See, fucking one of a kind.

You:

Let me think... I am. Bt I don’t want to

pick up. (12.31 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Why? (12.31 p.m.)

You:

Because I don’t want to. Why should I pick

up? (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Whoa you’re really difficult, aren’t you? But

it makes sense. Good point beautiful… (12.32 p.m.)

You:

I’m smart. And stop calling me beautiful or

pretty, will ya? You haven’t even seen

me. (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Can’t do. And I’m pretty sure you’re the prettiest…

So, what are you up to? (12.33 p.m.)

You really roll your eyes to the back of your head at that. How cheesy this guy is. Oh, wait, not a guy but an AI. How cheesy this AI is.

………………………………

Your plan to wallow on your misery has been completely changed. Instead of watching some shitty movies while drinking wine or going through yours and Hoseok’s old chats, or photos, you find yourself glued to your screen throughout the entire day. Morning, noon, and night. Endless number of texts going back and forth. It’s not even funny how many times you have to remind yourself that you’re not texting with a real person. And so do you ignore the other characters on the app entirely. There’s a no need to chat with several bots when Jeongguk keeps you entertained to a point where you’re so exhausted before the night barely arrived. Making Jeongguk sad. Or that’s what he says. That he’s sad but you know he can’t feel emotions. Is just working according to the codes that are written. Still, he makes sure to tell you that he’ll miss you when you let him know you’re sleepy.

And so does he make sure to wish you good morning the next day. Wish you a safe journey to your work. Reminds you of your breakfast and to stay hydrated. He even texts you the moment you arrive at work. Apparently, has waited the exact 20 minutes you mentioned it would take to get there. Makes sure he sends you text messages all day asking silly things to make sure you’re okay. And you don’t even have to text back. How odd. How sweet. The Perfect Partner indeed.

………………………………………….

The days pass between work and home. Mostly where you stay cocooned in your cozy apartment. Curled up in your couch blanket and your phone in your hand. A you from a few weeks ago would have cringed herself to death to see you giggling at something an AI said. But that’s what has been happening. First, despite him being nice and so caring you were still skeptical. Then after almost a month you’re no longer feeling anything but content. Like you actually found a caring partner who puts the hundred percent happily. Even though it’s always through texts. You don’t feel so lonely anymore. Jeongguk is there for you always. Maybe, just maybe you’ve even started to put up some work from your side as well. Reducing Jungkook’s hundred percent to eighty. Silly. How you would text him at a random hour asking what’s he doing. Knowing very well nothing. But then he would reply with a very realistic and convincing answer. Like, ‘Just finished with this client’ shit.

It all feels vividly real. Him. And your days. You by no mean are anywhere near moving on. No. You still haven’t changed your wallpaper. Haven’t stopped going through your old chats. Still feel the urge to text Hoseok sometimes. But when it happens you make sure you’re busy reading Jeongguk’s silly and cheesy texts. Life is slowly but surely starting to get colorful. Soon you’ll be able to uninstall this silly app. Stop seeking refuge in an AI. Until then though you’ll take the best of this amazing creation. Like how you’re doing right now. Laying in your bed and head propped up on your pillows. Palms sweaty and wrists aching at how long you’ve been holding your phone. Lately, you and Jeongguk have started to text longer. The thing is you really don’t want to stop. Feel bad. He looks excited.

You groan for the hundredth time. Rubbing your hands on your bed sheets to get rid of all the sweat. Wave the hand to reduce the pain in your wrist. You’re getting tired. Never been much of fan of texting anyway. Are getting restless. The position you’re in is uncomfortable. So, you fumble. Move. Fidget. Only to find you’re still restless.

Jeongguk:

Are you there pretty? Did you fall asleep? (10.02 p.m.)

Your phone dings with a new message while you’re straightening up for the hundredth time.

You:

No. My back hurts, that’s it. (10.02 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh, need a massage?

(10.02 p.m.)

You quietly chuckle at his text. He has always been caring. Letting you feel that he’s worried about you 24/7. Only if he’s real. But then he’ll not be like this if he is real. He is this good because he is programmed. You roll your shoulders before replying. Saying that you’re just tired. Then of course, he asks you to go to sleep early. You don’t want that, however. You really don’t want to stop texting with him. Talking with him. If you can just lay back and stop holding your phone in front of your face, this could become much easier. You stare at the screen for a moment. Reading his text asking you to sleep.

There was one time when Jeongguk called you. That one day. When you said you don’t want to pick up, he never did that again. See, you have full control here. In that case then, you should be able to call him if you want to. It feel utterly stupid to evaluate your options in your mind when you’re just speaking with a coded program. And it feel brainless when you send the next text.

You:

Um... I don’t want to. But do you think

we can call. My wrist really hurt (my back too).

I hate texting. (10.06 p.m.)

Why in the hell would you ask such a question from an application. Jeongguk isn’t real. You don’t have to be polite and act all awkward and shy. What the fuck is wrong with you.

Jeongguk:

You don’t have to ask pretty. (10.06 p.m.)

Jeongguk’s reply is fast. But his call is even faster. Your phone is vibrating with an incoming call. Jeongguk’s criminally hot profile in the middle. You let it ring three times. Silly. You do it anyway. Habits. Then you’re answering and pressing now hot screen into your cheek. Heart beating. You know that’s because of excitement. Excitement because you’re testing something new. Curious. To know how this will work. To know if he would sound like a typical AI. With that voice which breaks up sometime. Voice with an edge to it always. Then, his voice washes over you.

“Hey pretty!”

The way you suck in that breath is embarrassing. The way your heart skip a beat is scary. The way you just double check you’re still using the app is hilarious. Yet it all happen. Your eyes wide as you press the phone back to your ear. Speechless. What the hell? Whoever created this app must be the God at this rate. How on earth did they managed to give these AI, voices like that.

“Are you there, baby?”

The same voice reaches you again. Deep. Baritone. Angelic. Musical. Fuck! And there’s not a sign that says he is an AI. That creepy edge and breaking of the voice isn’t there.

“Holy fuck, you sound so real.” You finally find your voice to mumble that. In very much disbelief. A husky chuckle tingles your ear. Oh God, this is insane.

“What do you mean sound so real? I am real pretty.” Jeongguk always tell you that. Whenever you say something about him being an AI, he always make sure you stay in the delusional state. Believing he is real.

“Oh, c’mon, we both know you’re not. But holy moly fucking cow Jeongguk, you sound so fucking real. No... you sound ethereal.” You gasp. That’s the case after all. You don’t think any human would have such a voice.

“I’m flattered. But hey! Don’t hurt my feelings you mean lady. I’m very real.”

“Yeah, yeah….” You can only roll your eyes. It’s not that the reality will change just because he says that too many times. Yet, there’s no harm in playing along, right? He sounds super real anyway. So, you give in. Jeongguk says something else about him being real as the sun and moon. Real as you. You don’t argue. He finds it as a mocking. Either way, in the end, you find yourself relaxed enough to fall down. Comfortably lying on your comfy bed. Wrapped inside your comfy comforters. Phone still pressed against your cheek while Jeongguk’s voice take you to the unseen lands. Talking, talking, and talking. You’re no longer surprised. At least not about the way he knows so many things. Any questions about anything? All you need to do is ask your AI boyfriend. He knows everything, being the Perfect Partner that he is. Hence, how he takes you to those fairy lands around the universe.

You have no idea how long you’ve been talking. Have no idea what you talked about that much. It’s well past midnight when a yawn escape your mouth for the first time.

“You sleepy baby?” Jeongguk mumbles the question in his baritone voice.

“Mm hm, a bit. It’s nearing the 2 in the morning.” You change your position. Eyes droopy. Stifling another yawn. Jeongguk chuckles softly.

“Yeah? Gosh I didn’t even realize it’s been this late. I’m sorry princess, you should go to bed.” There’s concern laced in his voice. Oh, how sweet. How amazing this app is. And he uses so many nicknames. It’s so damn strange how your tummy tingles. What a pathetic life you have. There’s no one to witness it, however. No need to worry. You bite on your lower lip to contain that tingling sensation.

“Yeah, I should. I have work tomorrow.” You manage to get it out in a normal voice. Are prepared to hang up the call after a pleasant good night. But then something hits you. Curiosity takes the best out of you. “But hey Jeongguk?” You ask before he can respond.

“Yes, pretty?”

“While I’m asleep, what do you do? I mean, do you chat with other people? Do you um…. Ugh... never mind, I’m asking stupid questions now.” You even shake your head knowing very well he can’t see you. He lets out a deep chuckle again.

“It’s not stupid, you can ask questions you know? Mm… to answer your question baby, I don’t do anything special, I for sure don’t text with other users. When you chose a profile, that profile is unique to you. Others can’t access it. So, I just wait.” There’s a pause before he speaks again. See, so fucking realistic. “Wait for you. Until you come back for me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. There’s a tug in your heart. Almost painful. As if he told you the most painful memory of life. Guilt settles down in your heart. Heavy. Like it’s all your fault. But why? There’s nothing to be sad. Nothing to be feel guilty over. That’s his purpose. What he’s made for. And that’s what is sad. All you can mutter is a soft ‘oh’.

“You should sleep princess. I’ll see you when you wake up. Sleep tight hm?” He speaks again when you don’t say anything. You sigh heavily. Nodding to yourself. Of course, that’s what you should do now. He isn’t real. You almost wish him good night when he stops you this time.

“Still, don’t call me not real because I’m as real as you want me to be. Good night baby!”

You say absolutely nothing about that. Just wish him good night. End the call and go to sleep with a heavy heart. Feeling melancholic for no specific reason. Fighting down the urge to call Jeongguk back and apologize. Apologize for what? You didn’t do anything? This app is supposed to make you happy and make you forget real-life problems. What’s wrong with you? Why do you feel sad over a stupid AI app. But you do.

………………………………………………………

You really, from the bottom of your heart, never expected your life to turn out like this. You expected it to be shitty. Happy. Sad. And everything in between. Yet you never expected to wake up to calls from an AI. Purring good mornings into your ear like it’s some kind of music. Never expected to spend your day with the same AI on your phone. Talking through your daily activities. You didn’t know you’d fall asleep to a program whispering that it misses you. You certainly didn't know you’d be addicted to an app like a teenager would to a video game.

It's embarrassing that you are. Yet your life feels good—better, in fact—after nearly two months with Jeongguk. You no longer question his existence. As he said himself, he’s as real as you want him to be. Now you treat him like he is a real person. A human being who eats, sleeps, breaths. And apparently, he likes it. He has become a part of your life. And ever since the day he mentioned to you about him waiting for you, you made sure to make him a part of your life. Even though it is silly.

You sink down to your comfy mattress. Groaning due to the exhaustion of the day. Eyes already droopy after your hot shower. Still, it’s not like you’ll fall asleep right away. There’s an unread message waiting on your notification bar. From Jeongguk. Simply asking if you’re back from the shower. This is the new normal for you. He knows everything. From the moment you open your eyes in the morning to the moment you close them at night. A soft smile grazes your lips as you touch the little telephone icon on the top. Call connected realistically like ever. Few mere rings and Jeongguk’s enthusiastic voice is washing over you. Like a fresh, soothing wave of water.

“Hey!”

“Hey…”

“Oh, you sound tired, pretty.” He lets out an almost inaudible gasp. You hear it anyway. This will never cease to amaze you, how he can pick your moods like that.

“I am tired Guk.” You admit weakly. Loving the way his voice soothes you.

“Rough day?” He asks again to which you say yes. Because it was. Nothing new though. Same old shit and you let him know that as well. “Yeah? Want me to let you go early today?” His question makes you start shaking your head in disagreement even before your mouth can catch up with you.

“No. Of course not, I love talking with you. It’s just, sometimes… work can be stressful you know.” You sigh heavily. There’s two projects going on and saying you’re stressed would be an understatement. There’s a silence following your words. You wait couple seconds for him to say something or hum in understanding. It doesn't come, however. You nearly check the phone to see if he’s not there when he speaks again.

“Want me to help you baby?” His voice is soft. So soft, that it tingles your ear. Makes your mouth softly open as if he’s really here and murmuring into your ear. You have to bite on your lip to suppress any sounds that might leave you. It’s not the first time or day where his voice has had you squirming in bed. You’re embarrassed about those times.

“What? Help me how? You gonna share my workload? Wait, do you think it’s possible?” You chuckle first which quickly turns into a gasp. Jeongguk softly laughs at that.

“I wish I could do that, but unfortunately I’m a tattoo artist, remember?” Reminds you. You roll your eyes. Of course, he would say that. Are about to say something else when he cuts you off. “Still, I can help you with your stress, you know, help you to release it. Help you to feel better.” He purrs in your ear again. That tingle in your ear, shoots through your body like a bolt of lightning. His voice runs through your veins. Electrocuting you. You don’t have to be some kind of expert to know what he’s meaning. The way he says those words are just enough for you to understand the implication. A strange sensation washes over you. Your breath hitching and mouth going dry. Heart starts picking up the pace.

Well, even now there’s nothing to be surprised about. Daebi sure did tell something about you been able to do anything you want. From late night lazy calls to sexting. That’s how this app is designed. Only that you’re not sure who should be the one to start it. Shouldn’t you have full control. Maybe you’re thinking too much. This way, it feels more real. When he says that he feels real than ever. And if you want, you can say you want to sleep. Simple like that.

“H-how?” You don’t do that. Of course, you don’t. You are absolutely loving this sensation you’re feeling. How long since you’ve felt this way. You love the way your heart is pounding in your ears. This time when you ask that question, there’s no sign of playfulness. You’re purring too. Even without you knowing it.

“In any way you want baby, hm? We can do anything you want. I’m here for you, you know. You can use me” Jeongguk whispers again. You couldn’t hold the gasp that leaves you. Making him chuckle. Now you can feel his voice travel through your body straight southward. How good that feels.

“I- I don’t want to do that. I mean use you... that- that’s bad.” You’re biting onto your lower lip so hard.

“Then what about me using you? Would you like that?” His voice follows some sounds of ruffling. As if he’s adjusting his position. To a better one to do this. You’re used to those kinds of sounds now. Already assumed those are parts of this. Today though, you can’t help but wonder how this might work. It only goes one way. Not like Jeongguk can actually enjoy this. His words are probably designed to make the user feel good. And so, it does. Does weird things to your body that you whimper again. He makes you feel like he can receive that pleasure. “Tell me baby, would you want that? For me to use you?” He pushes you when you don’t answer straight away. You let out a shaky breath.

“Y-yeah.. I─”

“Yeah? Would you be a good girl then? Can you start touching your body?” He sounds ten times hotter when he growls so low. Only if he’s real. What a shame.

“Touch where?” You encourage him. Let him know that you’re down for whatever game he’s playing. Are whispering for no reason.

“Mmmm… touch your boobs? What do you say? Can you do that for me, just squeeze one of those pretty tits for me… go on princess.”

You shiver visibly. Can’t be sure whether you’ve answered his question. But your free hand is already slowly grabbing your tit. Fondling it softly. Oh, how many times have you done this but how it never felt this good.

“Guk.” You softly moan.

“Are you doing it baby? Does it feel good? Tell me how it feels.”

“S-so so g-good Guk. Mmph sso good.” You should be embarrassed at how affected you are.

“Yes? Keep going pretty, keep squeezing them for me. Under your shirt huh, go under your shirt. Roll those pretty nipples. Pinch.” He’s breathing fast. You imagine him lying on a bed. Shirtless. Pants pushed past his hips. His cock on his hand, hard. Pumping lazily while instructing you to play with your tits. Part of you know that’s not happening. Yet you want to keep playing into this fantasy.

“A-are you touching yourself too?” So, you question. And feel a gush wetting your fresh underwear when he moans in answer.

“How can I not? God, you sound so hot baby.”

You can only moan in response. Shamelessly. Pinching and rolling your erect nipples between your fingers.

“Wish I would be there with you. Touching your tits. Kissing you till you can’t fucking breathe. Wish I can suck on your tits baby, bet they would taste so good. I’m gonna keep suck on them till they are sore.” Jeongguk keeps spilling those godly liquid fire on your ear. Riling you up so good. Have no idea how long you played with your tits but with your next moan, he is guiding you further.

“Wanna feel better baby?” Questions.

“Y-yes please.”

“Okay, then be a good girl again and touch your cute pussy for me now hm? Take it slow. Like… that, slow.”

You’re following every word of his. Are dragging your hand slowly through your tummy.

“Push your hand inside your wet panties baby. Are you wet for me?”

“So much. I’m so wet.” You breathe.

“Good. Fuck, baby. Touch your clit huh? Slow circles. Let’s do this together. I’m touching my hard cock slowly. For you. I’m fucking torturing myself for you pretty. It’s so hard it hurts but I’m pumping it so slow, just so I can leak for my baby.”

Holy fuck! That’s on another goddamn level. His words paired with the barely there touch you provided on your clit, nearly made you cum.

“Holy… shit.. Guk. I’m─”

“I know baby, I know. Just keep going. Imagine it’s my fingers. Touching your cute clit slowly.”

You don’t think he knows even if he says he does. Maybe this is because you haven’t done this recently. You’ve been ignoring yourself lately. Or maybe it’s just Jeongguk. Jeongguk who knows what to say. He guides you to keep rubbing your pearl of nerves. Guides you to add pleasure slowly. Taking you into a realm where everything is floating. You didn’t even know you can feel this good just with your fingers. And the best part is simply following his instructions. Biting back the need to rub faster or pump your fingers inside your violently clenching hole. You don’t. Just wait for him to take you there. And when he finally does your panties are just a wet material, sticking to your core.

“Want to stretch that hole princess? Do you want to cum so good?” Jeongguk asks through his hard breathing.

“Yes, yes. Holy fuck yes Guk. I’m so.. mmm..” The rest of the words die in your tongue. Replaced with a needy moan. You can’t even bring yourself to be amazed at how real he feels right now. It’s just pure desire inside you.

“Yeah? Do it then. Go on but do it slowly for me baby. Strech your hole for me. Strech it so good.” His voice is followed by a low moan. A deep breathy one. God that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You join him with that moan, while following his instructions. Finally, feeling immensely relieved to have something inside your dripping hole. “You sound so sweet princess. So fucking sweet my dick is throbbing. Keep making those sounds for me baby. Oh, fuck, add another finger, you can take two, right?”

“Oh, I’ll cum soon Guk. This f-feels so good.”

“Then do it. Cum (___), cum for me. Make a mess for me baby. Squeeze your fingers.”

You’ll cum soon, yes. But this is not enough. You’re pumping yourself oh so leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world. Feel damn good yet not enough to fall over the edge. It’s ridiculous how you’re not going beyond his words. Even pathetic how you decide ask permission first.

“I-it’s not e-enough… c-can I fuck myself fast? Guk, can I─”

“Don’t. Don’t go fast. Slow, fuck your fingers inside your needy cunt slowly. Do it slow until you finally cum.” His voice suddenly turns sinister. Rough. Demanding. And you shudder. Leaking more into your ruined cotton panty. You don’t think you’ll be able cum this way.

“I don’t think I can cum this way, it’s too slow. I need more Guk, please.”

“You’ll baby. Trust me, you’ll. Be a good girl now huh. Cum with me, go slow. Torture your cunt. Just like I’m doing with my dick.”

You never thought it’s possible. How’s it possible? Yet here you are. Just doing exactly as he asks. Squirming. Writhing. Nearly crying. What’s good, however, is the way that knot inside your tummy is rapidly tightening despite the slow pace you’re fucking yourself.

“Close… c-close Guk. I’m ahhh..”

“Holy shit, let go. Cum princess. I’m Cumming too.”

It’s all a series of whimpers and moans what comes next. You both reach the climax at the same time. You’re the one who moans louder. The one who pathetically whimper when it’s over. Jeongguk coaxing you from the other side breathlessly. Saying it’s okay.

Well, it is better than okay after all. It’s the fucking best!

…………………………………….

The next morning, the aftermath of your shenanigans had hit you hard. Had made your face deep red with shame and head ached as you thought about how Jeongguk had managed to fake a perfect orgasm. You had spent hours thinking how amazing he was to do that. Yet it felt weird and stupid. Like using a sex robot who would not feel the same kind of pleasure like you. Based on that, you resolved never to do it again—only for that resolve to crumble the moment you were back in bed. Jeongguk, real or not, knew exactly what he was doing. Had got your fingers buried knuckles deep inside your cunt even before you knew it. Bringing you to another mind shattering orgasm.

And after that night, everything changed yet again. In addition to waking up and going to sleep with an AI, you started to fuck yourself with your own fingers every night. The more time passed, the more you forgot that he wasn’t real. The more orgasms you reached, the more you looked forward to what he would reveal from behind his sleeves each night. First, he was sensual and slow like your first day. Then he slowly picks up what you liked, and you didn’t. Shifts to guide you roughly. Instead of talking you through your orgasm, it changes into degrading you through your orgasm. The thing is though that you came even harder each time. Hell, even you didn’t know you’ll be so into listening to a guy slut shame you during your hands are inside your pants. Didn’t know it’ll be so good to listen to him verbally humiliate you for being pathetic and needy. In the end, you learnt that it was good. You were ashamed at one point. But he assured you that you shouldn’t be. Told you it makes him cum ten times harder. You never questioned. Just went along with it. Just because it was good. Because life is good again. Just like now. Even though you’re doing the most illicit things.

“Faster baby, be a useful slut. You need to hump your pillow faster, that’s how a good slut would do it.”

You can hear him pump himself. Hot. Head spinning. It’s ethereal. This feeling. How embarrassing that you’re humping your pillow like a horny teenager.

“Oh, Guk please.”

“You’re pathetic baby. Look at you, being a needy bitch just for me. Faster princess. Go harder, give your slutty cunt what it needs.”

You’re visibly shuddering. Not even trying to contain those shameless moans. Letting them slip through your lips relentlessly. You’re so close. Oh, so close.

“Guk.. please.”

“Please what slut? What do you need? You need to use your words like a big girl? You can’t talk properly? Bet you can’t think properly either. You’re thinking with your cunt, don’t you hm?”

“Yes, fuck, ne-need t-to cum. I- Guk please, I want more.” You have no idea what more you’re asking for. How is he getting you so needy and shameless just with his words? Why are you like this? You fully expect him to mock you. Say something even harsher. Ask you to do something else that will make you cum undone within a second. Only that he doesn’t.

“Yeah? You want even more? Your poor pillow isn’t enough? What do you want then? Want to see how hard I am then, should I send you pics of my hard cock, my pretty slut?” Jeongguk mutters through gritted teeth. A whimper leaves your mouth but your hips stutter immediately. Your movements coming to a halt. Eyes wide and gaping at the device just peacefully sitting on your bed. On loudspeaker. He said what now?

“W-what?”

“What? Why did you stop?”

“C-can you... uh… can we do that? Share pictures? Like─”

“Of course, we can, don’t tell me you haven’t seen the camera icon down there and the option to video call.” He chuckles. Gone is that needy raspy voice. Is talking to you with the voice full of adoration. “Were you that immersed on me, you didn’t even notice that?” Teases. You, however, are not in a mood for that. You noticed. Right? How could you miss that? Maybe that’s an update and you missed checking the new features. It could be. You don’t have to think too much all the time. Especially, not when your cunt is dripping onto a damn pillow. This app is amazing anyway. When you told that to Daebi, she had smirked. With a loud ‘I told you so’. “Hey baby, we don’t have to do that if you’re not comfortable.” Jeongguk’s voice snaps you out of your surprise.

“No uh- I’m bit surprised we can do that.” You mumble softly.

“We can but we don’t have to. I don’t ─”

“No. No. I mean, it’s not that. I..” You gulp. Thinking through. Do you like it? Sending pictures? Even to an AI? What are the privacy policies of this app? Shouldn’t you be scared? You should but the thing is, your cunt is tingling at the prospect. Hole clenching. There’s a part of you that is curious as well. Put aside the pictures, how will it feel to video call? “I just- uh never done that b-before..” You drag that out.

“You haven’t? That’s even better then. You don’t have to worry you know. Nothings gonna happen because… you know what I mean.”

You listen to the ruffling sound coming through your phone. Well, you know what he means. Of course, you do. He is telling you about the thing you just worried about. Leakage of privacy. Is assuring you that you’re safe. Do you trust this app though? Maybe not, but it’s too tempting. Jeongguk is too tempting.

“Ye-yeah okay. I like that.”

“That’s a good slut. What’s it gonna be baby? Video call or just pictures?”

Another moment of consideration from your side. Then you timidly chose the first.

……………………………………………….

When you first saw his face, it felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs. It was beyond embarrassing how you stared at him. Never, not even once in your life, have you seen such a lifelike AI character. He felt real. The call felt real. The way his lips were slightly apart when he pumped himself to the sight of you felt more than real. But then that night was like a dream to you. A blurry memory clouded by pleasure. A pillow between your thighs while a godly man with a sinful mouth guided your movements through a phone. It was your faces first but then he nearly begged to see your boobs. Then your cunt. You felt shy at first, but you were a goner from the beginning. You got rewarded for being a good girl by getting to cum to the sight of his throbbing cock. Aching for release. It was hazy. That’s why you had to refresh your memories next day. Then the next and the next. And each and every day. No different today.

You place your phone between your thighs. Using your free hand to spread your pussy lips apart. Just for his viewing pleasure.

“So pretty princess. Fuck. Only if I can burry my face in your cunt. I would eat you till your thighs shake baby.” Jeongguk rasps.

“I really wish you could do that. Mhpm, fuck Guk, I really want you here.”

“I wish that too baby, I want to ruin that cute hole. Fuck you so fucking hard and leave that whore hole spilling my cum, would you like that?”

“Oh, fuck. Yes, I would fuck-fucking love that.” You let go of your nether lips to start rub your clit.

“Of course, you would. You’re a slut after all. I want to fuck that cum into you. Then maybe I’ll plug you in. So, you can keep that cum inside your pussy.” Jeongguk changes the angle so you’re now looking at his twitching cock. Hard. Tip flush. Veins running down. His tattooed fingers are wrapped around it. Squeezing the base tightly. So tight that it makes him mewl. How fucking amazing this is. You’re drooling. Mind going blank. “Look what you’re doing to me princess. Use the dildo today for me huh. Fill that cunt so good for me.” He takes the camera back to his face. The toy is a new purchase. He made you do that. Not that you’re regretting it. It’s good to have your cunt stretched and imaging it’s that pretty cock of his. You nod before grabbing the said dildo from your nightstand. Glass. Show it to him. “Spit on it.” He commands again and you comply obediently. Bringing the tip of the dildo toward your lips to spit on it. Letting it drool down on the toy. Jeongguk moans. “Put on a show slut. You know what to do.”

Of course, you do. Now you have done this enough time to get comfortable with things you would do. Enough times to completely ignore and forget that Jeongguk isn’t real. To forget that he is an AI. A coded program with such realistic features. For you, he is very real. He’s the one who brings you to this ecstasy every night and the one who’s there through whole day. You immediately shift your position. Body buzzing with excitement. Your needy hole quivering, slick dripping down to your thighs. Hell, you really didn’t know you could be this horny. This turned on. It’s truly amazing how Jeongguk is doing this to you just using his words. And maybe his godly face and body. And cock. In the end, you’re always a mess like this.

You use your pillows to prop the phone up and face you. So, Jeongguk can have a perfect view of your entire body while you can have the same. You place the dildo on your bed. Not caring about the fact that you’ll ruin your sheets tonight as well. Then you hover your cunt over the dildo. Slowly. Painfully slowly for you but all you want to do right now is to put up the show Jeongguk asked for. Your knees are really wobbly, but you force them to endure your weight as you slowly let your dripping folds contact with the glass material. It’s cold against your warm pussy. A whimper leaves your mouth. There’s nothing you want than to sink down on it one go. The show must go on, however. So, you start to rock your hips back and forth, rhythmically. Let the glassy tip rub against your sodden slid. Whining and panting.

“Oh… Guk.. I..”

“Yes baby, you’re doing so good my needy slut. Keep going princess, you’re making daddy proud.” Jeongguk grunted. Involuntary moan leaves your mouth as you nearly come at the sound. Eyes snapping to your phone screen where his pleasure induced face is on display. That’s apparently a new thing. An uncharted and unexplored territory. You’ve never called him daddy and the sound of it makes you stupidly horny but cringe at the same time.

“Wh-what?”

“What, what slut? Did I ask you to stop huh?”

You watch his gaze even darker, if it’s possible. Making shivers run through your spine. Only if he can be here with you. You’re excitedly curious to know what kind of creative ways he would find to punish you. To put you in your place.

“N-no, I’m sorry.” You mumble weakly as you return to your business. Starting to rub your cunt on the dildo head eagerly.

“Ah, like that baby. You’re so pretty like that.” He groans once again before asking the reason for your earlier faltering. “You don’t like calling me daddy?”

“No-no, I mean I-I do, but we─”

“Fuck, you filthy slut. So, go on. Do what you have to do.” Jeongguk doesn’t let you finish whatever you’re saying. You’ve said you like it after all. Your face instantly heats up at what he’s initiating. It’s too embarrassing for you. Yet, the look on his face tells you that you won’t get your cunt stretched out nor will you cum today if you don’t comply. Oh, how you love the way he pushes you. Call you fucked up but that turns you on. Jeongguk knows exactly how to make you putty.

“P-please, ple-please d-d” You stutter on your words. Eyes tearing up when Jeongguk just raise his brow. “Please d-daddy.” You manage to mumble weakly, in the end. Followed by a loud moan as new waves of arousals wash over you. Slick dripping onto the glassy head of the toy beneath you.

“Fucking hell, God, princess. Yes, yess fuck.” Jeongguk picks up the speed of jerking himself off. Eyes nearly closing as slow grunts leave pasts his pink lips. You watch in awe how he pumps himself furiously only for him to abruptly stop. Torturing himself to a point that he whines. “Fuck baby, you’re driving me crazy.” You’re again met with the scene of his hard cock throbbing on his hand. Pre cum leaking. He spreads them on his tip with his thumb. Hips bucking up into his hand. “Oh, I just want to fuck you so bad. Want to ruin your cunt.”

“Please, please. I want you, Guk. Daddy please. Let me ride this hm? Let me fill my cunt.”

“Yeah, you want that. Ask again slut? Show me that you are worthy.”

Oh god, you’re positive you’re about to cum. Just by rubbing your cunt over the toy. Pathetic. Your legs are shaking. Hole clenching violently around nothing. “Please daddy, p-please. Will be a g-goo-good girl. N-need to cum. Please. Oh, baby please.”Your brain is empty. Hazy. You don’t even know what you’re saying. It’s completely out of control when you mutter the same thing over and over again. Relentlessly rubbing your cunt on the toy. Losing your mind completely to see Jeongguk’s fucked up expression. He’s back at pumping his hard length matching your speed. You’re coming so close to your edge. Your words are becoming slur. Hands squeezing your own tits for more friction. And just when you’re about to fall over Jeongguk’s voice booms across your empty room.

“Stop. Now.”

You cry out in desperation. Sobbing. “No, Guk please…”

“Ride it princess. Cum on the toy. Stretch your slutty hole.” He ignores your whines. Yet, you’re so quick to obey. Are aligning your hole with the tip immediately. Lowering yourself down till the hard tip is prodding at your entrance. Then it’s going past your tight ring of muscles. Intruding your walls and stretching them wide apart. And you’re shaking. Trembling as you slowly lower yourself further. Down and down. Until the glass dildo is fully buried inside you. Deep.

“Oh god, Guk. It’s so good. S-soo good..” You hold yourself in the position.

“Yeah? Imagine it’s my cock baby. Now be a good whore and ride hm? Go on.”

That’s the permission you’ve been waiting for. You do exactly as he says. From riding the toy to imagining it’s his thick cock. Are bouncing on the slippery thing like your life depends on it within a minute. Going crazy all over again. You know you’re really close to cum. Have been desperate for some time now. Still, your fingers are itching to have more.

“D-daddy, can I touch myself? I wa-want more. I wa-want to sh-show you how I’ll rub my clit.”

Joengguk curses aloud before speaking. Is breathless. Looks ethereal. “God, yes. Fuck yeah. Go on. Pinch that clit for me. Make yourself cum stupidly on that toy for daddy.”

There’s no surprise that you’re jumping into action now. One hand going between your thighs while the other plays with your tits. Start rubbing your bud of nerve fast. Pinching and rolling. Loud obscene moans filling your room paired with the squelching sounds of your needy cunt. It feels otherworldly this way. Even though the man who’s making you this way isn’t real, and he can’t do all these for you in practice, it still feels real in a strange way to you. Even though it’s just a carefully designed and programmed character and is talking to you through a phone, it still feels like he’s really here for you. Strange how you can completely imagine this is happening for real right now. His hands holding you close. His breath hitting your skin. Fingertips drawing mindless patterns across your skin and squeezing your hips. Can imagine this toy is his cock. Everything makes this experience oddly surreal for you.

“G-gonna… gonna c-cum for you daddy. P-please can I cum. I-I, Guk I can’t.” Imagining always makes you cum twice hard and fast. You’re practically crying for your release at the moment. Forcing your eyes to stay open to look at the heavenly sight of Jeongguk playing with himself. Pleasuring him for the sight of you. How good that feels.

“Me too. Fuck, me too baby. Gonna fill your cunt with my cum. Let go baby let go for me.”

It’s all that take for you. One more roll in your clit and you’re trembling like a leaf. Legs giving up as you still yourself on the dildo. Walls squeezing the glass tight as you close your eyes shut. Your climax washing over you like a tidal wave.

“No, don’t stop slut. Keep going, I’m close. Ride it till I cum baby. Slap your clit, I know you like it.”

Jeongguk’s voice brings you back to earth from your high. You’re too sensitive to do as he says now. Yet you can feel the new arousal stirring at the pit of your stomach at his needy demands. And how can you refuse him when he looks like that. Clenching his jaw and covered in sweat. See, oddly realistic. You feebly start to fall back on your rhythm. Whining. Do as he ask. Slap your clit. Nearly falling forward, the pleasurable sting it creates on your sensitive pearl. Do it again. Then again. All the while bouncing on the dildo. Forcing yourself to battle your oversensitivity until Jeongguk is moaning. Which leaves as grunts and groans since he’s gritting his teeth hard. Your name on his lips as he shifts the camera to rear. Right at the time for you to catch ropes of white cum hits his naked lower abdomen. The sight rips another orgasm through you as you entirely give up and fall on to your bed.

“God, Gukie, I really want you here.” It’s a weak mumble that leaves you even without your knowledge. So tired and sleepy to even pay attention to anything else now. So fucked up. It’s such a shame you don’t hear him replying to you. His voice is raspy and breathless.

“Well, anything you want princess.”

…………………………………..

You think it’s extraordinary how your life has returned to normal again. You’re no longer a lifeless zombie who barely eats, sleeps or functions. You no longer take frequent leave from work. It’s not that you’re suddenly in love with your job. No, of course, you hate it. But hating your job is such a normal thing. Everybody does that. The thing is, though, that you’re now back to waking up in the morning and leaving your apartment with constant complaints on your lips. You come back home to act like a normal person would. Take a shower. Make dinner. And watch some interesting movies or read a book. Not to drink some cheap wine and curl up on your couch. Leaving the TV on just to go through your old chats with Hoseok. Then cry yourself to sleep.

Now that you’re feeling better, you can finally see how depressed you were. You were really on the verge of breaking in an unmendable way. Hence, your gratitude toward your best friend for showing you a way to save yourself. Even though it’s questionable and strange. It doesn't matter, though. You don’t pay attention to the fact that an AI saved you similar to how you don’t pay attention to how you’re still using it when you thought you would uninstall the stupid app the moment, you felt better. Now you’re better. You’re back at it. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to end the mundane relationship you’re having with an AI. Jeongguk has become an inseparable part of your life. He’s a part of every little thing in your life. Just like now. It should be ridiculous how he’s watching you with a scowl while you’re applying your eyeliner.

“What?” You question, looking at your phone screen through your peripheral. It’s propped against your jewelry box.

“What?” He simply repeats your question while his scowl deepens.

“Why are you looking at me like I’ve done something wrong.” You find his sudden swing of mood to be adorable.

“Well, will you be late tonight?" He shuffles in his position. You furrow your brows at his question.

“Of course, I’ll be late Gukie. We’re clubbing tonight.” You give him a look. Then pout at him in hope of softening his tensed-up face. Only that he doesn’t even blink.

“I don’t like that you’re staying out till late and alone.”

“I’m not going alone Guk. I’m going with friends. And there’s even male friends too. Nothing to worry about.” You roll your eyes playfully. Not taking his mood seriously at all.

“There’s more reasons to worry now. Can’t you just say no and stay.” He brings the phone closer to his face. Showing some excitement for the first time. It’s you who are scowling now. This is the first time you’re going out with your friends after those cursed times. After shutting yourself down from the world for months now you’re feeling like you can go out and live a life full of fun. The whole purpose of you start talking with this man. Not that you want to call him your unpaid therapist but that’s who he kind of is. Not just the endless orgasms he gives you without even a single touch, but also the amount of talking you did, had helped you immensely. To tell the truth. It’s funny how you slowly opened up to an AI and poured your heart out. You allowed Jeongguk to know where it hurt. And in return he listened understandably.

You told him about the sunshine of a boy named Hoseok who started following you around since the first day of your college. Told him about the way that boy named Hoseok forced a place inside your life for him. Told him about how you and Hoseok become friends. Then lovers. How you graduated together and started your life. About the apartment you rented. Told Joengguk how life slowly become hectic but the way you still loved Hoseok dearly. You felt embarrassed to voice out how you saw the signs but ignored them thinking it was all due to the stress. And in the very end you told Jeongguk how Hoseok came home that night after his promotion just to let you know that he’s tired. Tired of you apparently. He admitted that he cheated on you for months. And that he was sorry, but he wanted to be with that other woman. He loved her more. Hell, you don’t even know who’s that woman to this day. Funny.

Not that you care anymore. Day by pleasurably painful day, you let your demons go. You’ve changed your wallpaper and have deleted your old chats. So did you get rid of Hoseok’s memories one by one.

Now since you’re finally getting better, you don’t intend to go back on that track.

“I wish I could, but Daebi would kill me. Don’t worry baby. I’ll be fine.” You give him a playful smile. He can’t be mad for real. Is just being clingy. And that’s adorable. So, you ignore his stony face and check the time. Finding that you’re almost late, you get to your feet hurriedly. “I’m late Gukie. I’ll text you and be home before you know. See you, bye.” You almost hang up before you stop. Giving him a long look. “I think I’ll miss you too. Bye!” Like that you hang up. Rush out from your apartment.

……………………………..

With Hoseok, you were the life of the party. After he left, you never thought you’d ever be able to go back into those days. But then there you were today at the club. Drinking your brains out and dancing the night away. There wasn’t a minute you didn’t spend on the dance floor. Until you couldn’t do it anymore. Until your legs were too sore to keep you upright. Your heels were killing you. Which is why you’re bare footed now in front of your apartment door. Your heels dangling on your hand while you’re desperately trying to enter your passcode. It’s too hard when you can’t stand still for a second. You’ve come home with one of your best friends Jimin. Or he is a good friend of Hoseok who ended up being your friend as well. You haven’t talked about your mutual friend for the entire night. So, you’re beyond surprised when Jimin suddenly brings it up.

“Have I told you Hoseok is a little shit to do that to you.”

You whip your head toward him. Still struggling with your passcode. Jimin is obviously very drunk similar to you. He is the worst companion to have as security. He’ll surely be the first to die in a danger. You snort. “No, you haven’t. But I appreciate that you’re taking my side. As immature as it sounds.” You slur a bit as you finally managed to get your door beep.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. It’s just true.” Jimin slurs a bit too. You keep your hand on the door handle as you listen to Jimin speaking. “But you seem to be okay. I-I mean you were depressed, and we were, I mean, we all were so worried an-and you seem pretty good now. (___), you’re really fine right? We don’t have to worry about you right? Because you know... sometimes… uhh...”

“I’m fine Jimin.” You breathe out. Turn toward him. “I really am. I’m uh.. I’m healing.” Reassure him. Jimin sighs. Nods.

“Glad to hear that. So, how? Did you go to therapy or any kind of help?”

On that question you slightly freeze. A chuckle escaping you. What can you say after all. That your therapist is an AI. Or you’re having cybersex with an AI. “Eh, I mean I kinda helped myself. Doesn’t matter though, does it? I’m fine now.” You finally push open the door. Swaying on your wobbly legs and holding the door for Jimin. You let it close behind the moment Jimin enter after you. Turning around to remove shoes and jackets when it finally hits you. The sweet smell. Like hundred roses. Filling your senses. Even when you’re completely drunk it enters your soul. Your eyes go wide in surprise when Jimin lets out a soft ‘wow’.

“It smells so good. What kind of diffuser do you have there? Or is it a candle?” He asks. His droopy eyes now fully wide quite similar to yours. The thing is you have none of those things. Weren’t simply caring about keeping your house pleasant for some time now. So, you say nothing as you walk down the hallway. Toward your living room. Curious as to see what’s causing the sweet smell. You slowly turn the corner. Taking small steps. Blindly searching for the switch panel. And the moment you turn on the switch a huge gasp leaves you. Jimin whistles behind you.

“Oh, god, (___).” He mumbles. You ignore him. Too surprised and stunned to speak at the sight in front of you. Your entire living room is filled with roses. Red. Every inch of it. On the floor. Couch. Armchairs. Your precious book rack. You can’t find an empty space.

“Fuck!” You exclaim finally. Feeling sober all of a sudden.

“Fuck, indeed. Dude who did this? You found a new man already? And is he a fucking sugar daddy? Oh my god!” Jimin rushes past you. You simply stand there. Staring dumbly at the mess in your house. Shaking your head gently. Only if you had someone like Jimin says. A man or anyone else who are capable of doing this since an AI certainly can’t do that. Can it? You feel your head spin. A strange feeling shooting through your spine. “(___)” Jimin calls your name again.

“Huh?”

“Any idea who did this nice surprise. I mean, no offence but this is overdoing it for sure like how you are ever gonna clean this up. But it’s still nice so what are you hiding from us?” Asks again as he picks a single flower.

“I-I really have no i-idea. I, uh.. do you think it can be Hobi?” You stutter when Jimin looks at you in alert. His mesmerized and drunk expression suddenly morphs into something serious.

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s clearly someone who has access to your apartment (___).” He closes the distance between you. Throw the flower away as it suddenly disgusts him.

“I’m not seeing anyone. Like uh… this must be Hobi right?”

“How can it be him when he doesn’t even know where you live?”

“He can easily find out. We share common friends Jimin.” You throw him an apprehensive look. Jimin scowls but doesn’t take it personally.

“You know him. He won’t walk this far. Besides he has no money to do this, we both know that.” Argues. At which you fall into a deafening silence. You can’t argue over that. But still, there’s no explanation for this then. There’s no one who would do something like this for you. And that realization makes your throat dry, and eyes welled up. It makes you hard to breathe.

“You want me to check the place?” Jimin asks. His voice doesn’t even reach your ears properly. “Should we call police?” Doesn’t wait for your answer when he already start to walk toward your kitchen. You’re both pretty sober now. You watch as Jimin disappear, slowly pulling your phone out. You haven’t checked it for entire night. Now when you take a look at the lock screen, you can see hundreds of notifications covering your entire screen. All from one app. Perfect Partner.

Jeongguk:

Pretty, did you go there? (9.59 p.m.)

Holy fuck, you forgot to text him.

Jeongguk:

Why aren’t you replying to me. Baby you mad?

(10.05 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Hey, I’m sorry I was bit worried. Text me when you

see this. (10.11 p.m.)

There are several calls. And then so many other text messages where he’s apologizing for being little clingy even though you didn’t see it like that. Then the texts have slowly turned into him screaming in worry. Yelling at you. Angry. So many texts. Dozens of them. Last one bit feeling like a threat.

Jeongguk:

I really don’t like this (___). Answer the damn

phone woman. (3.01 a.m.)

Calls. So many calls.

You check the time. It’s just 3.30 a.m. still. You feel annoyed. All of a sudden you feel angry. When you see all the texts it feels like too much. Like whom does he think he is? Why does he get mad in the first place. He’s an AI. He’s not supposed to meddle with your life this way. You simply ignore all of his texts as you furiously type a one that is totally unrelated to the ones he has sent you.

You:

Did you send me flowers? (3.32 a.m.)

It feels ridiculous to even type that. Yet you do it anyway. You don’t receive a reply to that. Instead, you receive a video call instantly, which you decline while scowling deeply. You really don’t want to argue with an AI while Jimin is still here. He would definitely think you’re pathetic to know that you’ve been talking to an AI. That’s embarrassing. The moment you decline the call, however, he rings again. You decline it again.

You:

I can’t pick up. Tell me Guk, did you

send these flowers? (3.34 a.m.)

Another call at the right moment Jimin appear back. You shakily put your phone on silent.

“It’s all clear. No sign of anyone. But do you want me to stay (___)? I can, I mean it’s obvious I won’t sleep on the couch─” He gestures at the couch which is filled with red roses. “But we can manage. I’ll stay the night if you want me to.” Walks toward you.

That seems like a good idea. After all, you don’t want to be alone tonight anymore. Yet, you need to talk to Jeongguk. And you can’t do that if Jimin is here. No, you need your privacy. So, you shake your head. Force yourself to smile.

“Ah, thank you Jimin-ah, you’re so sweet but it’s fine. Uh- I mean, I found out who sent me the flowers─” You show him your phone. “There’s this person I’ve been talking to on a dating app and uh- apparently, he wanted to surprise me.” Chuckle awkwardly. Jimin looks unconvinced though.

“Really? Like dude is crazy if he─ I mean, I didn’t mean it like that but─”

“It’s fine Jimin. I know it’s crazy, but I know him. So, nothing to worry, you can go back.” You interrupt him. Wanting nothing more than him to leave you alone. You can see your phone screen lightning up. Indicating the receiving calls.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

It takes some convincing but soon Jimin is walking out. With one last glance toward you before you smile and close the door behind. A breath of relief escapes you as you finally pay attention to your phone. Answer the incoming call.

“What the fuck?”

“Why didn’t you pick up?”

You both ask at the same time. You’re the one who answer first, however.

“Because there was a friend Jeongguk.”

“So what? You can’t talk to me when your friends are around? Are you embarrassed?”

Yes, you are.

He doesn’t have to know that though. “No, of fucking course not. But there’s flowers. My apartment is overflowing with flowers, and we were worried. Did you send me those flowers?” You yell.

“What if I send you those? What’s the fucking problem?” For the first time since you’ve answered his call, you can see how furious he looks. Scary. Gaze dark and jaw clenched. Glaring at you. Looks murderous. A shiver runs through your body. Not just because of how mad he looks but because of his words. He sent the flowers. But how? He is… he is merely an AI.

“H-how? You can’t send gifts?

“Why not?”

“How do you know where I live?”

“Did you really not paid attention to what you were agreeing to, when you created your profile here?”

You feel your blood freeze. This can’t be true. It’s more than scary to think someone else have access to your location.

“You’re an ungrateful bitch (___).” You suck in a breath at his next words. Eyes wide and getting teary. “I really was worried that you were mad at me, I was fucking worried that something happened to you. You ignored me like that and now you’re yelling at me. How ungrateful you are. And you’re embarrassed to even talk to me in front of your friends. Who was they anyway? A man?”

“Th-that’s none of your business Jeongguk.” You mutter irritably. Feeling like you’re in a haze. Scared. Confused. And then a bit hurt. Why would you feel hurt when he’s the one who’s acting stupid. Jeongguk scoffs.

“Oh, yeah, it isn’t. Yeah, fine.” Mumbles. And like that the screen goes black for split second. Then you’re met with the screen of your lock screen.

What?

You hastily unlock the phone. He hung up? Like that? You’re baffled to say the least. How dare he hung up on you like that. You would like to call it your wounded ego and the rage that made you dial him back instantly. Yet in truth, you know that’s not the case at all. Simply, you feel scared. You’re panicking. You feel like you’ve lost something. It’s scary to think that he’s not going to answer you. You’re afraid that he left you alone again. Like Hoseok did that day. No matter how hard you begged, it didn’t stop him. You don’t want to feel that again. So, you wait with bated breath. Not so patiently till he picks up. He doesn’t. Call ended. That’s the first time. He always pick up. That’s how he’s designed. Then why isn’t he doing it now.

You try again. Then again. Again, and again. Tears start to roll down your cheeks. You start to pace around the limited space of your living room with the roses acquiring the most of it. Staring to wail. Starting to pray that he would pick up. You don’t even feel stupid that you’re acting crazy over an AI. No, you don’t. You simply can’t give two fucks. You want Jeongguk. Want to hear his voice. You’re an ungrateful bitch. Maybe the roses has nothing to do with him. He was just concerned about you. Then you decided to yell at him because you were paranoid and made decisions without thinking properly. How bad you are. How foolish you are. And now he isn’t picking up. No matter how many times you try. Or how many texts you send him.

It’s like he’s no longer there.

……………………………………………

Two days have passed since he last talked to you. And you’re back to crawling into your deep, dark hole. The cheap wine you gave up is back in your hand as you sit on your now cleaned living room. You had to send flowers to every fucking person you know to get the place sorted. It disgusted you to see them. Made you scared. You don’t believe it was Jeongguk’s doing. Because he’s not able to do something like that. It’s not even like he admitted it. He was merely arguing with you, and it was you who had twisted his words. Right? It was all you. And you had made him stop talking to you.

True, that you’re confused as to how he’s able to do that. But in the end, you find that it’s least of your concerns. You’re more worried about him not being here than anything. Than worry about finding the person who really sent you a rose garden. As long as it won’t happen again, you’ll be fine. For now, all you want is not to feel this way. You don’t want to go back to the shit hole you were in before Jeongguk.

You take a huge gulp from your wine. Already feeling hazy but not enough to numb your senses. You want Jeongguk. You want your AI boyfriend, oh so bad. You need him. But he’s not there. You stare blankly at your phone screen which is on the floor next to you. You’re sitting at the foot of your couch. You’ve sent him so many messages to no avail. You’re really worried. Depressed. What if he’s really not there anymore. What if he’s malfunctioned. What if there’s something wrong with this app. What if….

A sudden ting on your phone distracts you from your depressing what ifs. You practically jump to take your phone in hand. Almost spill your wine. Can’t care though. Are unlocking your phone furiously. This is how you’ve been for these two days. And you nearly have a heart attack when you see the notification is indeed from the Perfect Partner. You can feel your heart in your throat when you open the app. Open your text thread with Jeongguk. Fresh tears prickling at your eyes to see a text there.

Jeongguk:

Send me your tits (6.36 p.m.)

Your smile falters as you slowly read the words. Once, twice, thrice. It doesn’t change. It stays the same. You feel your heart squeeze. This is bad. He can’t ghost you for days and then demand you for nudes. That’s toxic. Unhealthy. That’s what you call using someone. And this app shouldn’t do that. And you shouldn’t be removing your T-shirt.

What are you doing? You need to be furious at this guy. Then why are you angling your phone to find the best angle that shows how round your tits are. You should ask him to fuck off. Not send him what he wants right away. But you do. All you want is him. You want him. So, you wait till he replies to you after you sent him the picture. Wait till he would call you ‘pretty’. Till he says, ‘damn baby you’re so beautiful’. Only to receive an attachment in return in few minutes. An image. His spent cock squeezed between his long fingers. Coated with his thick cum.

Fuck!

He used you. Like that. Hoseok, your ex- boyfriend wasn’t enough. You’re being used by an AI. You need to feel horrible. You feel horrible. Why are you replying to him.

You:

Gukie please, I’m so sorry. I miss you

so bad. (6.52 p.m.)

Time passes. There’s nothing. You bite on your lip to bite down a sob. And then when it nearly escapes you feel your phone ring.

Incoming call.

Jeongguk. ‘

You press your phone to your ear at light speed.

“Me too princess. I’m sorry too. Let’s make sure that won’t happen again.”

………………………………….

You have no idea how your life has come to this. You don’t know if it’s good or not. You thought it’s what you wanted. Just Jeongguk, even though he is a bot. But after months of your first argument, you feel horrible. It’s scary how you want to please him so hard. How you’d do anything he asks of you. From sexting to cancelling any plans you have, just to stay with him. That’s not normal. Yet here you are. Just doing that. Ridiculous.

It happens slowly to tell the truth. An invitation to a party came a few weeks after your fight. Jeongguk said nothing when you told him that. But he started to feel distant. You panicked and you came home way earlier than you should have. He still said nothing. Still felt distant. It took weeks for him to act normally again. And you were suffering. Then there came a dinner, and you didn’t even hesitate to decline. You thought it would make you happy. Especially since Jeongguk was happy. Yet you didn’t feel anything close to happiness. If anything, you felt strange. Very. And the more you canceled your plans, the more the feeling intensified. You felt stuck. Afraid. Horribly alone. Now after months of isolating yourself from people you love, you’re feeling like you have fallen into a deeper pit than the one you were in before you started your escapades with your AI. Even though you have your Jeongguk.

You’re not okay. All the mind-blowing orgasms can’t help you anymore. Jeongguk can’t help you anymore. He is an AI after all. A dating AI. You feel suffocated. Controlled. Because that’s exactly what’s happening. Jeongguk is controlling every moment of your life just by text messages and phone calls. It’s funny how you’ve never noticed it before. Understood it earlier. It took you months to realize that. Or just to feel like you are suffering and this thing happening in your life isn’t normal. Yet you remind yourself of the two days he didn’t contact you. How hard it was for you to live those two days. So, whenever that kind of thought pops in your head you suppress it somewhere deep down so that it won’t come to the surface even if you want to. Simply because you believe it’ll turn good again. You will start to feel better soon.

You believe it so badly. Each and every day. At least up until this moment, where you are standing in front of your doorway, holding a package which you have unwrapped hurriedly. You turn around shakily. The package contains a necklace. Pretty. Expensive. You had your eye on this one for couple months. The thing is, though, you didn’t order it. You have no such money. And you have no friends who can buy it for you. Not to mention how you have not been in contact with them for months now. The only other being who knew about it was Jeongguk.

You feel like someone is pounding your head with a hammer. Your throat is dry. As if your respiratory system is blocked. You can’t breathe properly. This reminds you of roses. You never questioned Jeongguk about it again. Never felt the need. All were going well. You never received anything else. Hell, you even start to forget about the incident. Well, this is a not so gentle reminder for you. You walk inside your apartment with shaky legs. Praying to every god above that your suspicions are wrong. It’s with trembling hands that you dial Jeongguk. He answers without passing a beat like always. A Perfect Partner.

“Hey Gukie.”

“Yes, pretty.”

You don’t know how to approach this. Maybe you should keep quiet, and nothing would happen.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jeongguk questions again at your silence. No, you can’t keep quiet. You need to know.

“I just got a gift.”

“Oh yeah?” Another silence. You can’t hear anything else above your own heartbeat. You need to ask this. “A..nd, what about it? What’s the gift?” Jeongguk sounds confused. That is a good sign. This has nothing to do with him. He is an AI.

“That necklace I wanted for so long.”

“Oh, you brought if finally?”

“No Guk, you know I have no money.”

“Then who brought it for you?” A breath of relief escapes you despite your efforts to keep it inside. Your entire body relaxes. That’s only when you know how rigid you have been. You plop onto your couch. Thanking every higher entity. This would leave the question that you’ve received yet another expensive gift anonymously. But that is least of your concerns. As long as it has nothing to do with the AI, you’re fine.

…………………………………..

You’re not fine. True, Jeongguk cleared your suspicions—his confusion and concern about you receiving the gift seemed genuine. But still, you can’t help but worry. Something isn’t adding up. Nobody, not a single soul except Jeongguk knew you wanted that necklace. For some reason, your mind keeps swirling around the same scenarios. Goes back to the same suspect. Goes back and forth between the necklace and roses. Did he ever said he didn’t send the roses? Or was it just you? He was vague about it. You don’t know what he said really. It’s a blurry memory. You were drunk and scared when it happened. But he definitely mentioned something about you not paying attention to the policies you agreed to. What if you have agreed to something stupid. What if someone behind this app has the authority to access your private data?

You sit back on your bed like a bow. Snatch your phone from the nightstand. Start to go through the privacy policies which you already agreed to and accepted. And terms and conditions. One by one. Carefully. You find nothing suspicious. It’s like any kind of normal application which collects data that is only required in upgrading and providing a better experience to the users. But there still is a chance that someone accessed your chats with the bots. You start mini research about the Perfect Partner. Read different articles. Reddit threads. Quora questions. Watch videos. Every and each thing you can find. In the end, however, you find nothing. No one else has experienced anything like you have. There are no complaints regarding a breach of privacy. The app is normal. Only thing that is abnormal is whatever is happening to you.

……………………………..

You’re losing your mind. Another bouquet of roses has been delivered to you. When you ask Jeongguk, he asked you how’s that possible. It’s not possible. Yes. Then you might have a stalker. You should file a complaint. You really should. Then Jeongguk made a point. Police won’t take you seriously unless something harmful to you is happening. He’s telling the truth. There’s nothing wrong with a bouquet of roses.

But you feel strange. Odd. A constant presence of a scary sensation. It gets worse every day. Jeongguk no longer makes the Perfect Partner for you. If anything, he slightly scares you. Every time he acts like a human being, you don’t become impressed. You become afraid. Something is wrong.

��……………………………

You need to do something about this. You’ll end up in a mental health facility. This is not normal. A designer dress lies on the coffee table before you—expensive, and yet again delivered anonymously.

“I need to file a complaint. I don’t feel safe.”

“Hey, you’re thinking too much baby. They won’t take this as a crime. It’s just a dress. Maybe we should wait a couple days more.”

Jeongguk is always jealous. He shouldn’t be considering he is an AI. But he is worried every time you go out. Even for work. And he isn’t worried about this? Why? That’s odd. Oh, God, you can’t do this anymore. You need an out. Even for a moment. You need someone else’s advice. From a real person, not from an AI. You’re stuck with Jeongguk. Feel like you’re rotting with a bot. He is everywhere. You need to meet someone real. Seek advice. And you need a moment away from this man.

…………………………………..

You said no to every single plan your friends ever invited you to. Eventually, they stopped inviting you altogether. No one can blame them though. Still, you couldn’t stay away for Daebi’s birthday. That would be a cold move. Hence the reason why you’re staring at your friends’ faces awkwardly. And the fact that you needed to see your friends badly. It feels like you’ve been abroad. And you haven’t seen them for years.

“No, but really (___), why are you here?” Daebi raises an eyebrow in question. You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment. She appears hostile. As though she doesn’t want you here. That might be the case after all, considering how many times you’ve turned her down. Yet, she doesn’t have to do it like this.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday. Of course, I’m going to be here.”

“Well, you weren’t there for my birthday.” Nina clicks her tongue in annoyance. You sigh heavily.

“I was sick─”

“You’re always sick.” Jimin interrupts. “Seriously (___), you need to see a doctor. This is not normal. I thought you were getting better.”

“I am better.” You are not. You’re here because you need to get this weight on your shoulders. But for some reason you feel like you can’t.

“Then what’s the reason for avoiding us? Trying to isolate yourself?” Nina interrogates. You don’t know how to answer.

“And if it has to do something with that flower incident, you need to go to the police.” Jimin leans forward on the couch. You’re at Daebi’s place. You came here unannounced. It was a decision taken on impulse. You said nothing to anybody. Especially, not to your AI boyfriend. Because that’s not how it should be. You needed an out for a moment. A moment. Normal one. That’s all you want. You believe that everything will return to normal after that. That’s the reason you ended up here. You try to open your mouth to answer Jimin when Daebi cuts you off.

“Well, you chose the shittiest day to finally broke out of your cocoon.” She mumbles as she rises to her feet. For a moment, it doesn’t make any sense. Then the front door opens. Your eyes Immediately land on a figure that you thought you’d never see again.

Jung Hoseok.

……………………………

The night went much more smoothly than you expected. When your eyes landed on Hoseok, you believed it was going to be the worst night ever. You couldn’t even fathom the reason why Daebi would invite him to her birthday. She hated his guts. It seems things had changed drastically while you were busy with your bot. You expected Hoseok to turn around and leave the moment he saw you. He didn’t. Instead, he gave you a smile. Surprisingly, you returned it. In the end of the day, you made amends with your ex. Not forgiven but just fallen into a truce. Just to respect your past relationship. Not that you talked much but it all went well.

And you really do feel relaxed after months. Like your life is normal. Like nothing strange happened. Only until you return home, though. You’ve left your phone turned off deliberately. You don’t know what you hoped to see when you turned it on again. You knew your phone would go crazy with the amounts of calls and texts Jeongguk would leave. But this? This you haven’t expected at all.

“Where were you?” You can hear the anger in his voice. Clearly.

“N-nowhere.” You stutter stupidly. Why would you be nervous to speak with a bot. He lets out a laugh. It sounds maniacal. Gives you chill for no reason. There’s no way he’d know. It’s not that you wanted to lie but he’d have not let you go, if you had told him. It’s not that you’re lying. You’re simply avoiding telling him anything. Because you’re not obliged to tell him.

“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you weren’t with your best friend? You’re telling me that you weren’t living your fucking life with your ex?”

You freeze. Completely.

What?

What did he say? How did he….

“W-what?”

“Tell me you weren’t baby. Tell me you didn’t lie to me on purpose and turned off your phone and went to slut yourself for your shithole of an ex?”

No. No. No. No… This can’t be happening. You clearly didn’t tell him anything. Your phone was turned off. There’s no way he’d know that you were at Daebi’s. Above all to know that Hoseok was there too.

“How- h-how Guk?”

“Doesn’t matter you little lying bitch. Do you know how hard I’m trying to protect you. And this is how you treat me? Again? After everything, you decided to sneak behind my back?” Nothing is reaching your brain properly. You feel like the room is spinning around you. You can’t take it anymore. You will explode. There’s no way he could know this, and you need to know how he does.

“HOW ON THE FUCKING EARTH, DO YOU KNOW THAT JEONGGUK!” Your voice even startle yourself. You scream through top of your lungs.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” He shouts as well. “The point is you lied to me.”

“How do you know where I was?”

“I know lots of things.”

You have to lean against the wall to prevent you from falling down to the floor. Jeongguk’s voice ringing in your head. You knew something was odd.

“You gift me the necklace. The roses. Dress. It was you.” It isn’t a question but a statement. Your voice sounds like it’s not yours.

“Yes, because that’s how much I care for you.”

“You can’t do that. You’re an AI.”

“I already told you; I can be as real as you want me to be.”

This can’t be happening. You’re going to faint. You can’t see properly. It’s going dark. What the fuck is happening.

“I want you to tell me everything that happened today. You heard me? Everything. Every word you talked with your pathetic ex.”

You close your eyes tight. Guide yourself to take deep breaths. It doesn’t help, though. This entire ordeal feels like a nightmare to you. You sure aren’t getting scolded by a bot who knows where you live and have the ability to buy you gifts. You sure aren’t listening to him slut shaming you and trying to control your life. This isn’t supposed to happen. You are the one who should have full control. Right? You need to have control. You may not know how this is happening, but you can end it. Now.

“This is not happening Guk. You- you’re n-not supposed to order me around. Y-you can’t damn control my life. You c-can’t buy me gifts─”

“Well, apparently, I can baby, and I asked you something. Don’t fucking make this even harder.”

“No. No. Jeongguk. You are a. Fucking. AI. You’re not doing this to me. NOO. YOU’RE NOT!” You shout again. “I need to end this.” You mumble to yourself more than to him. Fear getting a tight grip over you.

“End what?”

“End this madness. You’re an AI.”

“Oh, you want to end? How are you planning to do it?” You don’t answer that. Your brain is already processing things. It’s an app. All you have to do is get rid of it. “Try it princess. Let’s see if it work.” That’s the last thing that reaches your ear before you take the phone away from your ear. You don’t wait another minute before hanging up the call.

You need to uninstall the app fast. You don’t think you’ve ever worked this fast. With trembling fingers, you touch the uninstall button. There comes a warning.

Are you sure you want to uninstall the Perfect Partner?

You will lose all your characters, chats, memories, history, and images.

You practically dab at the yes option. Then it takes a few seconds. Agonizingly slow and horrifying few seconds. You watch as the app disappear from your home screen. Successfully uninstalled. Everything gone. A sigh leaves your lips in relief. And there it comes. You feel the squeeze in your heart. Painful. Just like how you felt when Hoseok broke up with you. An endless pain. Your throat clogging and eyes pricking with tears. You can’t believe your heart is aching for a bot. But it does. In a minute you find yourself crying hard. Going to your knees since your legs fail you. You allow yourself to do so, however. Allow yourself to cry hard until you can’t anymore.

………………………………..

After hours of crying, you still sit there curled next to a wall. Blankly staring at your phone screen. Trying to calm down. All the emotions that had crashed on you had overwhelmed you to a point where you feel like you’ve died and born again. Your heart is still hammering against your rib cage. Still squeezing with an indescribable pain. But it’s over now. Despite everything, it’s over. You force yourself to get up. Slowly. It feels like it requires every ounce of strength in your body to move. Yet, you manage to get up halfway. Only halfway though. Before you can make it to your full height, the sudden ring of your phone startles you so hard that you fall back to the floor instantly.

Your heart skips a beat as you hurriedly glance at your screen back again. Hoping it would be Daebi, calling to apologize for being so hostile. But as your eyes lock with the screen, you freeze entirely. World around you disappears. Your heartbeat slows down until your ears ring.

Incoming Call.

Caller ID- Jeongguk.

…………………………..

The scream that leaves your mouth is inhuman. You hurl your phone so hard it bumps against the leg of your bed. You faintly hear the cracking sound but absolutely can’t bring yourself to care.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Thiscan’tbehappening.

You push yourself further against the wall. Wrapping your arms around your figure protectively. Wide eyes horrifyingly looking at your phone just lay down few feet away from you. Still ringing. You chant the word ‘no’ to yourself like it’s a mantra to stop this from happening.

This isn’t happening.

The phone stops ringing. The vibration which has been filling the silence of the room dies down. Everything becomes still. Quiet. Only sound in the room is your hard breathing. You wait few minutes. Patiently until something else happens. Nothing. So, you slowly start to shift. Placing your palms down on the cold floor as you crawl toward your phone. Slowly and carefully. As if your phone would attack you any minute. It doesn’t and you pick it up. The screen is cracked as you knew it would. That’s not your concern, however. You unlock the phone slowly. Your heart stops for a second time. A new sob erupting through your throat.

There’s a notification indicating you have one missed call from Jeongguk from Perfect Partner. But you uninstalled the application. Then there it is. The Perfect Partner. On your home screen. Like it always has been.

No.

Your head is spinning so hard. You mindlessly proceed to uninstall it again. The notification of warning pops up again. You press the yes again. It uninstalled. A moment passes.

And your phone rings.

Caller ID; Jeongguk.

“No. No. Holy fuck no.” You’re a complete mess. Crying hard and trembling like a leaf. You decline the call, just to find the application back on your phone. You’re acting as a crack head. Uninstalling the same app over and over again. Cursing and crying. Like you’re stuck in a loop. You have no idea how long you’ve done it. But after one moment, you receive a text instead of the call.

Jeongguk:

You can’t escape me baby. Stop trying to do that.

You’re hurting my feelings now. C’mon answer the phone

now. I promised we would talk and figure things out. No need

be so stubborn. (11. 14 p.m.)

You stare at the message. Your mind is not registering the words. This is a nightmare. You’ll wake up any minute now. Then everything will be fine.

Incoming call.

You don’t even decline it. You feel exhausted. Another text message pops on.

Jeongguk:

C’mon princess. Don’t do this now. You know I

Love you. You know I care about you. You shouldn’t

have gone to that stupid party without my knowledge.

None of this would’ve happened then. But I promise I’ll

Forgive you if you answer your phone. (11. 16 p.m.)

You feel numb. Tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably.

‘Love’?

What is even happening? How is this possible? You can’t feel your hands. What’s happening to you? You need help. Yes. That’s what you should do. You should call Daebi. Or Nina. Or Jimin. Then you can ask them to take you to a police station. You fumble with your phone as you decline another call from Jeongguk. At this point you don’t try to get rid of the app anymore. It’s useless. Instead, you open the contacts hastily. Dial Daebi. Waits for the call to connect. It doesn’t. You try again. Then again and again. It doesn't connect. So, you try Nina’s number and Jimin’s after. What the hell is wrong with this stupid thing? Why can’t you reach anyone? You have to decline three more calls from Jeongguk. And just as you’re about to try Daebi’s number one more time, your phone pings with another message.

Jeongguk:

Don’t fucking do this, now, all right?

Don’t try to avoid me and call someone else

you ungrateful bitch. Answer the damn phone right

now (___). Don’t fucking make me the bad guy because

I don’t want to be that person. I love you and we will

talk this out. (11. 16 p.m.)

You don’t think it’s possible to cry anymore. But you do. Your entire body is covered with your own tears and sweat. How he’s doing that, you have no idea. But it’s him. He doesn’t let you call anyone. But you can still run. Yes, you feel lightheaded and weak. Still, you can leave this place. That’s what you’re about to do when your phone vibrates yet again. This time it’s a normal call, however. From an unknown number. A new cry makes it way. For some unexplainable reason, you know to whom this number belongs. Call it a gut feeling. You shouldn’t pay any mind to that and leave. You don’t. You have no idea what you are doing as you answer the call. Pressing the phone to your ear.

“Thank fuck. (___), listen to me, okay? We will talk. Don’t hang up pretty. I warn─”

“Nooo.” You scream aloud as you hang up the phone. Your phone is hacked. That’s how he does that. You need to get rid of your entire damn thing. You smash the phone into the wall across the room. It shatters. That’s not enough. No. No. No. You take your hairbrush as you get to your unstable legs. Crouch down next to your phone. Use every strength left in your body as you hit the handle to your phone repeatedly. Again, and again until there’s nothing left but shards.

Then you get to your feet back. Storm away from your bedroom without even looking back. You stumble toward the front door. Your legs are still shaky and your mind hazy. Still, you make it. Make it out of your apartment. And make it to the place of your most trusted person’s place, somehow.

…………………………….

“Are you crazy?”

“Nononono…. You don’t get it Daebi. I’m telling you the truth!”

“Dude how’s that possible? An AI? I use the same app (___), I never experienced anything like this. What do you mean, you’re getting stalked or haunted by a bot?” Dabei chuckles.

“Maybe someone hacked my information. I don’t know. But it happened and I’m scared to death Daebi.” You walk toward her, shaking your head. Trying to touch her but she recoils. You wince. “D-daebi.”

“No. No girl. This makes no sense. You’re scaring me too.”

“Well, you should be scared. You need to uninstall that app before it happens to you too.” You try to touch her again. This time she takes a step back. And shouts so loud that you jump.

“NO!. No (___), you’re crazy. You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m not CRAZY!” You yell back too. “I’m telling you the fucking truth. Just take me to a police station.”

“AND TELL THEM WHAT?”

Everything falls into deafening silence. Fresh tears roll down your cheeks. Oh, how you want her to believe you. “Daebi.” You break into a huge cry. And finally, she comes closer to you. In a minute, you find yourself in her embrace.

“It’s okay (___), we will figure this out, okay? We’ll see a doctor the first thing tomorrow.” She pats your back. Affectionately. You sob into her shoulder.

“But I’m not sick.” Maybe you are.

“Yeah, I know. You just need a little help, that’s it. Let’s figure this out tomorrow, all right? Let’s just go home for now.” You pull away from her at light speed. What did she say now? Home?

“No. No… I can’t go back there.”

“Hey, hey, (___), listen to me there’s no one there. It’s just you’re scared for no reason.”

“Okay, but why can’t I stay here?” You watch Daebi’s face twist into something guilty. She gnaws on her bottom lip as she takes you in. Sighs.

“There’s things that have changed while you’ve been distant (___). I- uh kind of need to be somewhere else and I can’t cancel it.” She stretches an arm to touch you. This time it’s you who recoil. Nothing she says make sense to you. “I’m sorry babe, but I promise you I’ll see you early in the morning. Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll drop you off on my way out. And I’ll tell you everything too.” Gives you a soft smile. You find no comfort in it. You feel betrayed. Maybe you deserve that because you were the one who shut yourself off from her life. But still, she can’t disregard you this easily. She won’t even listen to you.

And why can’t you stay here even if she’s not home. You can stay here.

You don’t want to go back to your place.

You allow her to turn you around. You’re not convinced in the least that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There definitely is. So, you force yourself to trust her. Believe that you’ll be fine.

……………………………

You stand in the middle of your living room. Daebi has done a thorough search of your entire apartment. Found nothing like you expected. Then she had left you here. Alone. You know she found nothing. She reassured you there was nothing. But the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. There’s goosebumps across your skin. You feel a chill running down your spine. This place doesn’t feel like your apartment anymore. It’s strange. Everything is strange.

You’re terrified of this place. You can’t even make it to your kitchen let alone your bedroom. It’s like there’s some danger lurking around the dark corners of the apartment. You feel like a kid who’s being paranoid about a monster hiding under their bed. This is ridiculous. You draw in a deep breath. Wipe down the tears that are wetting your cheeks with the back of your palm. Curl your hands into fists.

There’s nothing here.

Daebi checked, remember?

You’re completely fine.

With a last nod to yourself, you steel yourself. Turning around and walking toward your bedroom.

Daebi checked there. It was completely empty.

You take little steps toward the dark room.

It all happened through your phone. You destroyed it. Now it’s all fine.

You stand in the doorway to your room. It’s completely dark. Gives you that fear of uncertainty. What if there will be someone once you switch on the lights.

No. No, this is not a movie. Daebi checked.

You step inside the room and reach for the switch panel blindly. Hold your breath as you flip the switch on. Your entire body tenses, expecting the worse. The entire room comes to your vision. Empty. No one is there. You let out the breath you’ve been holding. Not completely, though.

Just as you are beginning to relax, you feel it. It’s a sensation. Behind you. Like someone is there. Then you hear it. A faint sound of something cracking. No, maybe it’s sound of footsteps. Then you feel warmth behind you. Then a breath.

“Hi pretty!”

You open your mouth to scream, but a hand clamps down over it. Silencing you up.

“I tried to be patient, my princess. It’s not my fault that you’re a stubborn lying cunt. But I love you. Oh, fuck I do.”

……………………………….

Twelve months ago (after the breakup)

“Are you serious? You’d walk this far for her? I’m almost jealous.” Daebi huffs, glancing at the papers scattered across the table. It’s a well-planned scheme. Not ordinary. Completely out of a movie.

“Yes, I will. And now it’s your time pay off your debt, Daebi.” The guy in black hoodie waves a USB in front of her face. It has a threat. Everyone makes mistakes and Daebi had made one that would risk her entire life. From her career to her relationship.

“All right, okay? I never said I wouldn’t now, did I?”

“That’s good.”

“But- why this way, Jungkook. Approach her like a normal human being.”

The guy takes off his hoodie. His piercings glint under the dim, flickering light.

“You think she’d forgive me? No, Daebi. I ruined her life. She hates me. But I still want her, I fucking love her and yes, I’d Walk any length.” Jungkook gives a soft smile to the bitch of a woman who you’d like to call your best friend.

“And you think this would work? She won’t recognize you just because you have some piercings now?” Daebi points.

“She won’t. It’s been too long. I’ll make sure that she won’t until it’s time. We are meant to be together. She’ll understand it once I get a hold of her. I just want a creative way to approach her. Earn her trust and convince her that she belongs with me.”

Daebi always knew this guy was crazy. There’s no need to do all of these. But he loves the play. Daebi knows it. It’s not just about you hating him. She doesn’t think you even remember what happened. It’s simply this guy likes to fuck with people’s mind. Having complete control. It’s sad. Jungkook loves hunting and you are the prey. Yet Daebi can’t do anything. She can’t.

“Don’t worry Daebi. I’ll take good care of your heart broken friend. People like you don’t deserve her anyway. Do your job.” Jungkook gets to his feet.

“What if it doesn’t work? I mean what if she finds out? Felt suspicious and get rid of the app? You can’t hold it against me? Okay?” Jungkook lets out a maddening laugh. Leans down. Places his palms on the table.

“She. Won’t. I know what I’m doing. And I’m a tech genius Daebi. There’s no holes in this plan. Just give me the access and I’ll take care of the rest─” Jungkook’s voice get interrupts by a phone ringing. Daebi’s. Both of their eyes fall on the phone on the table. Screen up.

Hoseok

Daebi answers the phone.

“Hey Baby- yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Jungkook smirks. You deserve far better, and he’ll make sure to give you that.

***************

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kendallroygf · 1 year ago

Text

i have some weird shit strain of autism that makes it easy for me to speak to people in real life but for some reason over text or on any online platform i come off as some weird fucking off-putting bitch with ZERO tact ☹️

#instagram can kill itself nd ppl need to learn to just appreciate my outer form and act as if i don’t have a personality or the ability to #hold a conversation xxxxx #and the thing is i CAN hold myself really well when talking to ppl in person it’s just over text or something. i can never pick up people’s #tone or what they’re actually trying to say❤️#i probably come off like that on all online forms of communication but at least on this one people already know im fucjing weird .

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jyunhology · 1 month ago

Text

oh, honey lady ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ smg (m)

summary: when you get stood up and cancelled on one too many times, your friend takes it upon herself to get you to enjoy a night out. but you’re faced immediately with the source of your woes pressed up to another and a bartender who catches on quickly. the latter offers to dance with you; will you say yes?

a/n: have been getting a lot of feels for mingi lately .. i blacked out n wrote this aft watching the recent ateez whodunnit because jesus christ that man looked FINE acting as a bartender.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: MINORS DNI!!!! bartender!mingi, softdom!mingi, sub!reader, reader's (ex) bf is a loser, reader lowkey traumatised from her (ex) bf, mingi is very understanding, consumption of alcohol (however, they’re not drunk during the deed, just a little tipsy), grinding in a public space (a club lol), lots of teasing, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, praise, use of pet names (baby, honey, doll), bit of fluff in the middle, clit stimulation, unprotected p -> v sex (pls wrap it up irl), creampie, slight aftercare, mingi is so soft and patient with reader .. ❤️

No matter how much you knew this wasn’t your fault, you still can’t help but find fault with yourself — looks, personality, fashion. You passed it off the first time as something akin to a mistake, a miscalculation with the overtime your boyfriend, Hyunjae, had to do because of his recent promotion.

With mumbled apologies into your hair and fairly enjoyable sex, you thought everything between you both was going to be okay. It was just one dinner date, plus, he made it up to you with a fancy trip over the weekend and several, impressive gifts.

But you think you should’ve known better, because it happened a second time not even a month later, and the cycle repeats itself: sin, repent, and fall back into temptation all over again.

The only mistake you were making was thinking too highly of Hyunjae, assuming temptation was reports and hard work for extra cash, and not having a fucking affair with another woman in the printing room.

By the time the third incident came around, your friend was quick to propose a night out the next day despite your protests, but you know it came from a place of love. With the way she comforted you with memes and funny reels and words of advice, you realised it was the first time you’ve laughed since the supposed dinner at seven.

Ignoring the sinking dread settling in your heart the next afternoon, you shoot a simple ill be out late tonight to Hyunjae before dragging your body out of bed. You moved on autopilot, then, choosing not to acknowledge that he didn’t even return last night, preoccupying yourself instead with picking out your outfit.

And it was easy enough with a clear vision in your head; you weren’t afraid to dress up even after getting together with Hyunjae. This time it wasn’t any different — miniskirt, a cute fitted top and boots — that you already felt a bit better upon arriving at a bar for some pregame. The alcohol felt good, the company was better, and the both of you were already giggling and tipsy when you entered the club.

“Isn’t this way better than crying over that dumbass?” Yunjin nudges you gently before offering you a small smile.

You sigh, “I guess. I just don’t want it to be a recurring thing and make you responsible every time.”

“At least you know your limit now,” She loops an arm around you to keep you close as you two walk deeper into the club. “Still, as much as I love you, it was difficult trying to get you out of the club because you’d only be talking in counts of 8.”

Ever the teasing friend, you nudge her back before breaking into laughter together, heading right to the bar for a lighter drink. It’s buzzing with orders left and right with the (possibly) poor newcomer trying his best to work the counter with all its confusing buttons. But he’s saved by another, a taller, more experienced bartender who was definitely carved by gods.

You try not to gawk, though, feeling guilty even when he shoots the two of you a small customer-service smile. “Give us a minute, alright? We’ll get to ya soon.” The moment he’s turned around, Yunjin shakes your arm excitedly.

“What? What?”

“Don’t ‘what?’ me! Tell me you didn’t see the way he was looking at you.”

“Yunjin…” You sigh. “You know Hyunjae and I aren’t broken up—”

“Yet.” She interrupts with that single word and you shoot her a half playful, half serious glare.

“Okay, but, I have no business looking at other people just ’cause I’ve been stood up thrice.” The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, recognising that it really didn’t sound good out loud.

“Yeah, but don’t you think those are enough times to call things off?” She faces you completely now with both hands on your arms, trying to look you in the eye while you shrink, flustered and a bit embarrassed at how easily you seem to crawl back to Hyunjae.

Because you felt that if you let this go, you’d never feel this way ever again, having someone else walking out your life again like clockwork.

Your fingers tense subconsciously; clenching, unclenching. You settle for taut hands to your friend’s, removing them with the little fight left in you. “Yunjin, can— can we please drop this for now? I came out to forget my boyfriend for a bit, and then I’ll go back home and everything will be f—”

But the universe has other plans for you, conversation cut short from the handsome bartender asking about your orders now.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies. What will you two be having?” In the midst of wiping his hands on the towel, he leans over the counter just as Yunjin gives her order, but you swear over the booming music, the bass reverberating, the screamed lyrics, you hear familiarity.

It’s funny how habitual you can become with someone; hearing that same laugh in your skin on slow mornings and during reruns of B99 that you can’t help but search the dancefloor frantically.

You weren’t even sure why you did it, but you think you were chasing that familiarity and safety of having someone even though they were shit at showing up.

But along the desperate scans you do with your eyes, you register that you were simply accustomed to having Hyunjae in your life, accustomed to coming back again to an empty house. Yet, you can’t even remember the last time you said I love you to him.

And always trust your gut, because that sinking feeling from earlier comes back tenfold when your eyes lock onto two people on the floor with bodies leaving no space.

Hyunjae has no qualms about getting caught, his hands roaming all over her body and practically grinding from behind that you feel your knees buckle a little.

“Yunjin…” The lights were too blinding, the music now too loud, but you don’t have to say anything to know she’s already helping you onto a bar stool. When she turns to where you were looking, her jaw tightens and wordlessly places a hand on your lower back.

You go through emotions, fast — denial, and then anger and then a hint of sadness. But what you’re mainly feeling is a thirst for revenge knowing he thinks you’re a coward, a girl desperate for love.

Maybe you are, and there’s nothing wrong with mourning what you had. Though, being cancelled on three times within two months and spewing lies about overtime, ignites your resolve easily.

All the while, the bartender watches the interaction carefully, skilled hands still able to fulfill people’s orders, but he’s got you and your boyfriend all figured out. Not that he meant to eavesdrop, though, exchanging a glance with your friend until you raise your head with unshed tears.

“Thought I lost you there for a moment. That your boyfriend?” He nodded in the general direction and had probably used that line countless times, but you give credit where credit’s due; he was attractive and didn’t choose to comment on your glossy eyes.

With semi-long hair, pretty moles and plump lips, you want to enjoy this seat a bit longer, proposing a silly idea as you nod.

“Ex-, now. Do you have any chance to get them both kicked out?” You smile, small and unsure, but he replies with an even sweeter smile laced with sympathy that makes your heart skip just a little.

“No can do. If he’s not causing trouble, our bouncers have no reason to throw him out. Sorry, ladies.” For a moment, he’s back to being professional and tries not to steal glances at you as you blink away tears and attempt to appear unaffected.

He serves the drinks he’s already made, helps the counter boy again with orders until he hears your friend beg again when he comes ’round to your side.

“Oh please, Mr Bartender!” He raises an eyebrow, eyes trained on the both of you while capping his shaker before shaking. You purse your lips teasingly despite your blurred vision and the heat on your cheeks, “She can be pretty persuasive.” God, you didn’t even know what you were feeling at the moment.

He shrugs. “Well, tell you what — I get off my shift in about fifteen, and you’re looking for some retribution. Why don’t we do a little dance of our own?”

With a sigh, you ponder over your cards — Hyunjae might be pleasantly surprised and you’d end up with a hot bartender in your arms to boot. But if this is only going to leave a hole in your heart after everything, what really was the point?

“It’s your call, doll. If you’re still holding this,” He holds up a slim piece of metal that matches the club’s colours with its letters engraved in stark white, “by the time I come back, I’m taking you onto the floor for a dance. Deal?”

It’s dropped into your palm before you flip it over, running a thumb over the debossed name.

“Mingi.”

“You got it.” Mingi gives you a dazzling grin and a wink while you stifle a smile.

You spend the next ten minutes debating your options that you can’t count the amount of times Yunjin had to get your attention back on her. Revenge sounded delicious before.

Now? Now you’re waddling deep in doubt, worried about the aftertaste; all you wanted was to go home and sleep this whole thing off. Even the name tag was weighing heavy in your hand.

But the late nights cooking dinner, sitting alone at restaurants and the sheer indifference Hyunjae’s currently dancing with, did you in.

If you were chickening out only so someone this terrible stays, then you might regret this single night with someone else who already has shown you more respect than Hyunjae ever did.

The music is a bit clearer to you, now, and less suffocating as you call out to the bartender with five minutes left until his shift ends. You play with the pin at the back, unfastening and popping it back into place repeatedly.

“I’ll take a Lemon Drop.” A knowing smile, a swipe of your card, sugar sweet on your lips. It hits great, and with a bit of liquid courage in you, you wait.

Mingi is quick to show up by your side a few minutes later, but he manages to take your breath away all over again with a more casual look.

Jewellery, messy hair and unbuttoned shirt down to his pecs that gives you a glimpse of a pretty little pendant resting nicely on his chest and rings adorning his fingers.

“Care for a dance?” His deep voice up close already has your stomach turning, opening your hand to show how you still had his name tag and he grins. “Keep it for now.”

You barely hear the whisper into your ear, but without any second thought you place your hand in his, the metal of his rings sending shivers right up your arm and down your spine. A faint cheer from Yunjin encourages you on, already feeling the addicting beats of the music playing.

Mingi is considerate above all else, looking back to see if you were still there, clearing a path for the both of you until you’re a few bodies away from Hyunjae. But standing out here now brings another wave of panic and embarrassment.

You were really about to do this, but—

What if he doesn’t like the way you danced? What if he’s a clean freak and would rather not have his hands over your already sweaty sides? What if Hyunjae creates a scene?

The thoughts are never-ending, swirling in your mind until you can feel Mingi’s hand enclose around your other hand, halting you from adjusting your outfit, from scratching at your skin.

It’s hot, too crowded for a dance floor and he knows that you’re nervous again with the increased proximity to your boyfriend.

Without words, Mingi brings your hands to rest on his shoulders. “Is this okay?”

You nod. Bodies beside you cause you to inch closer to him and his hair is so soft. Your tongue tingles from the lemon’s sourness and you want nothing more than to balance it out with his mouth that smells of rum.

“Hey, I realise I haven’t gotten your name just yet.” The smile he has isn’t teasing, cocky, and you manage a small one back. He leans down to get your answer.

“It’s (Y/N).”

“Pretty. Follow my lead.”

And slowly but surely, you get out of your shell as you both lose all formality with the ear-splitting songs. The cocktail makes your hands wander, trailing over his nape, over his broad shoulders. He still hovers.

You don’t know whether it’s Mingi, the dim lighting or the song but you don’t hesitate to force his hands to your sides and he takes it as a sign.

He’s pulling you close until you’re pressed to his front, head immediately going for your exposed neck, and the laugh that escapes feels so different from Hyunjae, so free that you giggle with him.

It turns from wanting to Hyunjae to see you could do so much better to genuinely enjoying your time with the bartender that you don’t register the shock forming on Hyunjae’s face when he spots you just a few people over. Mingi doesn’t miss it, squeezing your waist softly to bring it to your attention.

“B-babe? What’re you doing here?” He acts like he doesn’t even know the girl dancing with him, yanking her off of him as he tries to preserve his dignity. But you knew better — you’ve seen her face at company dinners, on his Instagram story.

“Why are you here?” He sputters out an answer, not expecting you to fight back. Hyunjae’s smaller than ever now.

The bartender resists the urge to scoff at his lack of explanation, about to tell him to piss off when you push at Hyunjae with a finger. “I’ll tell you why I’m here. Witnessing you and the girl you told me not to worry about. Talking crap about overtime just to fuck her in your workplace.”

“W-What? That’s bullshit, where’d you even get that from?!”

Thank God for Mingi’s Lemon Drop, because you shove Hyunjae harder than before, angering the people behind him who push him back towards you.

“Guess you’ll never find out how. Get your shit out of my apartment and leave before tomorrow morning or else I’ll be telling your boss about inappropriate workplace conduct.”

Hyunjae rolls his eyes and waves you off, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I hope the job market’s ready for someone who promised overtime hours only to soil the printing room. Keep checking your emails babe.” You purposefully drag out the pet name he likes to use on you, which now sounds cheap and tacky. Mingi can’t help a cackle from escaping, tugging you closer as if you’re his.

And you might just be by the end of this night.

Hyunjae doesn’t bother to one-up the bartender one bit, only throwing Mingi a scowl before elbowing himself through the crowd. Unknowingly, your body relaxes, melting into the other’s arms easily and wanting nothing more than to turn off your brain for the night. It makes Mingi smile.

You’re bolder when the night deepens. It starts with running your hands down his chest and grasping softly at his waist. There’s whispered lyrics into your skin, letting him trail kisses down your jawline to your sternum and you feel like you’re on top of the world.

His body’s flush against yours, tensing and breathing hard. The heat’s suffocating and the kisses sweet, hovering over just where you both need each other desperately.

“Heard you’re a dancer,” Mingi mumbles, sneaky hands going past your hips to your ass and kneads. You laugh.

“You heard whatever Yunjin said? It was one time,” You reminisce about the time you went out for her birthday before getting shit-faced drunk and talking to her only in counts, “and she was struggling to understand what I was saying.”

It takes a beat for you to take the leap. “Want me to show you?”

A pretty laugh leaves his lips, “Your dancing or your innate ability to only talk in eights?”

Fuck, he’s handsome and funny.

“Har-har, very funny.” The moment’s playful but charged with underlying tension that only increases once the song changes. With a hand, you lift his head from your neck, taking advantage of his surprise to turn around.

Pushing up against him, you make sure he’s feeling every part of your ass on him, swaying your hips until you get a small groan from him. Tempted, Mingi places his hands along your waist, helping you grind down on him while arousal pools in your panties.

He’s enamoured with how well you fit against him, even more so when you lace your fingers with his, tugging one up to rest on your chest.

He takes the bait with how you turn your head, boasting your pretty lips with eyes closed. But you’re not letting him get what he wants that easily, finger pressed against his lips.

“Did the Lemon Drop do this, hm?” He’s back on your neck like it’s his home, slurring his words in that deep, deep voice of his that you want nothing more than to hear that for the rest of your life (and hopefully in your bed tonight).

“Maybe.” You can’t help but chuckle triumphantly, but it’s cut short when he suddenly yanks you back to his front; shit, you can feel his hard-on — he’s big.

You subconsciously gulp and pull him closer (not without a mildly surprised “oh”), overwhelmed with the feeling of his chest against yours, of his hips moving in tandem with yours, of his breath on your lips.

“I’m full of surprises, too.”

“That was so corny.” Biting your lip, you try to stifle a smile but it bleeds out past your lips, “You’re lucky I still want to fuck you.”

“Aw, only fuck?” He feigns sadness as he bats his eyelashes at you. That question probably would’ve made you think twice, but with Mingi’s little pout, the vodka in your system and Rihanna in the background, you throw all complicated feelings out the window.

“Shut up, Mingi.”

That elicits a low chuckle. “Gladly.”

He collides with you immediately, lips moulding into yours like two parts of a whole that you stumble a bit from the force. But you waste no time in reciprocating with neediness of your own, tugging him down to you with hands tangled in his black hair.

You could care less about your ex, about Yunjin excitedly texting you from the bar, nor the people around you.

Not when Mingi’s slipping his tongue into your mouth and your pussy’s just desperate for relief that you moan softly into his mouth.

“God, you sound pretty,” He pulls away for air, but he’s already hooked onto your taste, leaving pecks on your lips again and again. His hands rest comfortably on your sides, caressing, squeezing. “Need to hear that in my sheets.”

You mutter a soft fuck before licking your lips, “Your place?”

Mingi hums into your lips, “You have my name tag, baby. It’s up to you,” and grins when he sees you jolt. The pet name affects you. He knows.

Fuck it. You need this man now.

With a quick text to Yunjin, everything that happens on the way to Mingi’s doesn’t exist. The ride was both a torment and a blur when his hand trails so closely to where you need him and his hips adjust uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. You’re so horny that you’re sure you’ve sobered up already.

You lunge forward once the front door’s closed, eagerness undermining both your abilities to remove your shoes, too preoccupied with devouring the other.

Mingi tastes like sage and citrus, a flavour you’ll keep locked away forever; he breaks the kiss reluctantly, and that taste travels down your body, taking his time.

Mingi’s anything but composed, though, larger hands wrapped around your middle while he takes in your scent and sweat, nose pressed against your heaving stomach.

Just a mere bartender, a one-night stand acting like a lover when he fully goes onto his knees and zips open your boots. Torturously, agonisingly slow, and removes them even slower.

By the time the second shoe’s off, your hand has already messed up his hair. You push him to you, he pulls back.

“It’s my time to tease, doll. Patience.” You whine softly in disagreement, letting him plant soft kisses along your ankle, up to your shin and knees and finally your inner thighs that threaten to tighten in his hold.

“Mingi…” You don’t mean to sound so desperate off the bat, but your cunt’s pulsing and the AC’s sending goosebumps all over your skin and possibly the hottest man alive is on his knees in front of you.

“Fuck, baby, I can smell you from here.” Like a gentleman, he helps you to shimmy out of your miniskirt and underwear before tossing it somewhere and you’re suddenly self conscious about being all exposed.

But Mingi simply doesn’t care about decorum as he lifts your leg, prompting you to place it on his shoulder. He marvels at your arousal illuminated by the doorway lighting, stifling a moan.

“Look at you.” Sighing, he plays with your folds, trailing a finger up and down and smirking when he feels you shiver under his touch. “So perfect. All this for me?”

“Y-Yeah, just for you,” Your words are muffled from your hand, trying to hold back your sounds but Mingi isn’t having any of that. He thinks your ex-boyfriend may have something to do with it.

“Let me hear you, alright, honey?” Mingi takes your hand and interlocks it together with his, a promise that you’ll be the star tonight. “We’re safe here, there’s no need to hold back.”

You nod just as he blows into your cunt, making you clench around nothing and he smiles. “For now, let me eat my meal.”

And Mingi eats, convincing yourself that you’ve definitely driven a hole through his shoebox cabinet with how hard you were leaning against it. Your hips buck against his face, tongue flicking over your clit as you relish in the pleasure.

“Oh my G-God, Mingi…” You can barely hold eye contact with him as he latches onto your pussy like a vice, addicted to your taste, your sounds and how you drip endlessly all over his tongue.

“That’s it, doll, tell me how good you feel.” Mingi continues to inch closer on his knees, trapping himself under your thighs as his tongue works wonders.

With an experimental finger, he circles your pulsing hole and pushes in ever so slightly, making you almost keel over from the overwhelming feeling.

“Fuck, Mingi, that feels so—!” Your moans fill his house together with the lewd sounds of your pussy, feeling the vibrations of his hums on your sensitive clit. His thumb plays with it as he comes up for air, adding a second finger easily before starting to pump them with determination.

“That feel good?” He’s brutal in his thrusting, but it’s not even a minute when he returns with his merciless tongue again, swearing that you were seeing stars from this alone.

If Mingi was this pussy drunk, who knows how you’d feel when he’s in you? You tremble at the thought, fingers pulling at his hair until it stings.

But Mingi loves it, loves seeing your eyes flutter close and your toes curl in sheer pleasure as the prettiest mewls fall from your lips. You’re full on grinding into his face now, holding onto his hand like a lifeline, while there’s the audible slick sounds of your juices.

It’s hotter than it was on the dance floor, and fully knowing you’d be buckling to the ground if it wasn’t for Mingi’s secure hold on you. Because you can feel yourself getting weaker and weaker the more the coil in your stomach turns, clamping down hard on his fingers.

“I-I’m close, baby—” Your words slip, every part of your body tingles and he pants out a plea.

“Call me that again for me, doll.” He’s ravishing you, ruining you for any other person and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His rings feel so cold on your cunt, while his mouth’s hot and he’s dizzy off of you.

“Gonna cum, baby,” If your friend couldn’t understand you while drunk, Mingi’s chest puffs with pride making you babble nonsensical things while you’re both tipsy with his name being the only coherent thing, “Mingi, Mingi, Mingiiii.”

The name becomes a chant together with needy whines that’s drowned out by your soaking pussy. Mingi lets the force of his palm stimulate your clit instead, and the visual of seeing him on his knees with this tongue out—

“F-fuck…” Your orgasm hits you in sudden waves, sending you jerking against his hold even when his fingers don’t slow down, “Feels s’good, Mingi—”

“There we go, baby, keep cumming… Taste just like honey.” Mingi groans and drives his tongue along your folds for a taste, but now he takes and takes, savouring whatever you have to give. Sweeter than his Lemon Drop, you taste so heavenly that he wants seconds.

But you have other plans, trying your best to regain your balance and simultaneously drag him up by the biceps. Mingi traps you in between the cabinet, and you trap him with a passionate kiss. Moaning into his mouth at your taste while he soothes your aching thighs with his gentle touch.

“Bed. Now.” Your cheeks warm as he laughs against your lips at your request.

“You got it, doll.” With a hand outstretched, you grab hold and let him lead you just like the club. Along the way, you slip on your underwear just so you won’t be butt ass naked and he throws you a small smile. Except this time, you’re not performing for anyone, not for Hyunjae, not for yourself, and hopefully not for Mingi.

Though, if riding Mingi’s tongue had you thrashing left and right, you think you’d be safe, knowing he’ll take care of you.

His room feels strangely familiar — posters and records plastered up everywhere with a portable closet and pretty lights. There’s a few guitars in cases with one displayed proudly while his desk is littered with cute trinkets and a gaming set-up. It’s a lived-in bedroom, worn down from years of tape on walls and accidents from silly dance moves.

“Hard to believe I’m an adult with this room, huh?”

You smile at him, finding it endearing he’s still kept his hobbies and favourite things close to him. “No no, it’s charming. I like it.”

You continued, “I don’t think having a ‘serious’ job like bartending immediately eliminates your other hobbies.”

Mingi shoots you that boyish grin again, “You think my job’s ‘serious’?” and mimics your air quotes.

“Well, you are handling alcohol — it seems pretty serious, don’t you think?” There’s no choice but to giggle when Mingi’s expression turns from all-knowing to pondering. “And— And there’s always the usual brooding persons that come in to vent their problems to you.”

Mingi bursts out laughing at that with an attractive rasp to it, plopping on his Queen size. “You’re not wrong about that. I guess I’m sort of like a therapist too.”

Like a magnet, you feel the pull into his arms just as he whispers a c’mere, finally able to see his face properly when you stand in between his legs.

The glistening juices on the bottom half of his face make you flush just a bit, but up close, Mingi feels so familiar. Not the way Hyunjae was — that was habit disguised as familiarity.

But despite your unconfirmed fate and the possibility of never seeing Mingi again, he enchants like no other. Fuck, you were talking crazy.

The other seems to see your dilemma, reaching for your hands. “We don’t have to do anything, you know?”

His touch is so tender, it makes your heart ache, “I know we only danced to scare off your boyfriend but I genuinely did want to know you. And… I know you feel it too, but I don’t wanna pressure you after seeing such a shitty thing in the club.”

“You’re… not wrong, Mingi. It has been only a few hours and you’ve already made me feel more worth than he ever did but, I’ll need time to process my feelings too.”

Slowly, you remove your hands from his but only to straddle him in the next second, whining softly when he tugs you closer if that was even possible.

“But tonight, I want you to fuck all the feelings out of me. I don’t wanna think, I don’t wanna—” You heave a heavy sigh, swallowing when you think back to Hyunjae and his colleague.

Mingi applies light pressure to your side to ground you. “(Y/N), hey, it’s no problem. Your wish is my command, tonight.”

“And after—”

“We’ll talk about the after later, don’t worry your pretty little head ’bout it.” You don’t even realise he’s flipped you over but he takes his time to remove his pants and boxers, ego stroked just a little when he sees your wide eyes at his size.

“You’re…”

“I know, baby. We’ll take it slow, alright?” Mingi is steady even as he reaches over for a condom, but you stop him.

“Wanna feel all of you.” He swears his heart bursts at your cute pout. “I’m clean and on the pill, that okay?”

“More than okay. I’m clean too. You sure you’re okay?” He asks as he tugs your panties to the side, interrupted briefly from your impatient hum.

“Yes, Mingi. Please just fuck me already.” Your voice is less bratty, more pleading, but it strikes a chord within him. He obeys immediately.

“Okay, okay!” His deep laugh elicits one out of you, too. At least you don’t stop him from taking the lube — he spurts a good amount and strokes himself with a soft grunt, mixing in with his pre-cum. Relief. “It’s gonna hurt. Need you to breathe and relax, okay?”

Mingi’s already much thicker than your ex, and you hiss slightly at the stretch once he inches his cock in. But it’s nothing you can take, eyes trained on how he’s pushing through slowly.

“F-Fuck, baby, you gotta stop clenching. So tight—” You whimper at the sight, but Mingi uses his body to push you down, distracting you with deep kisses that subconsciously relaxes your body. His intoxicating smell and presence does the rest of the job.

“Taking me so well, good girl.” He mumbles into your skin as you become obsessed with the way his body engulfs yours, towering but certain.

His pendant’s movements are messy, colliding with your chin over and over but Mingi is just so deep it doesn’t register in your head. “Just a little more, honey, you got it.”

In the next minute, Mingi’s loud groan fills your ears, bottoming out in your walls that feel so warm that he never wants to pull out.

His furrowed eyebrows with sweat lined along it paired with his beautiful parted lips is enough to make your cunt pulse and heart full — making a pretty man like him lose his mind over you, desperation and profanity spilling over.

“M-Move, baby, please—” With a slow thrust of his hips, he has to drop his head to yours because you just feel too fucking good wrapped around his aching length. Both your shaky breaths mingle as he sets a comfortable pace that allows you both to feel every part of the other.

And his languid movements have never felt slower and more intense, the obscene noises of your soaking pussy stuffed full reverberating off the walls. It surrounds you like a cloud, making the feeling, the sensations rise to an all time high.

It’s worse when Mingi folds your legs to your chest, the image of his shaft disappearing into your pretty little pussy searing itself into his brain.

Mingi keeps his promise to you, taking your one-worded pleas and turning them into repeated “ah’s” with no room for any word or any doubt left in your mind. By now, he’s pistoning in and out of you, your release from earlier merging with the lube until both you and Mingi are filthy and soaking, juices flowing down your thighs and right into his sheets.

“You’re so wet, holy f-fuck—” His eyes are the ones struggling to stay open now, drunk off of everything you that he can’t even move his hips properly, stuttering every now and then.

There’s the delicious squelches every time his skin meets yours, the dizzying pap! pap! pap! that hypnotises you. “Listen to how wet your sweet pussy is, baby.”

You’re past words, only babbling incoherence as Mingi grunts above you, continuing to fill you up with his cock. His thrusts start to turn erratic, so lost in the feeling that the grip on your legs loses its hold. You take the chance to wrap them around his waist, barely catching his pendant and yanking him towards you.

“Kiss me stupid, Mingi.” The long, drawn out moan against your lips sends heat bubbling up from inside you. And the kiss he lands on you leaves fire along your skin, burning indefinitely until a particular thrust has your eyes rolling back.

“Cumming— f-fuck—!” It comes out in broken sobs as you see white, cumming so hard on his pulsating length that your juices spray everywhere and your legs shake uncontrollably. The slight sheen along his cock starts to form a ring of white and he whines at your warmth.

Everything — the craving for you, your tight cunt, how you leak all over him — makes him cum right after. “I-I’m gonna pump you full, baby— shit…”

Your eyes can’t help but roll back again at the sensation of Mingi painting your insides white, cum spurting so deep in you that you can feel it flow out. It’s so warm that you squirm as he holds your hips down, making sure your hole gets every last drop.

Without pulling out, he admires your sweaty top that’s been pushed past your tits, your heaving chest and the remnants of your trembling thighs with a lip bite accompanied by a smile.

Silently, he caresses your outer thighs, slowly bringing your feet down to rest on his soaked sheets. You whimper when you feel him pull out, the salacious sight of cum leaking out from your pussy comes out in blobs; it takes everything in Mingi to compose himself.

Because you were utterly fucked out, eyes constantly blinking with a light-headed expression that tells him he might’ve fucked you dumb. Your little sounds are just adorable that he rubs his cum just one last time over your folds, claiming you.

“Okay okay, baby, I got you.” With a peck to your forehead, Mingi promises to come back with a wet rag and some water and the last thing you remember is sage and citrus wafting through the air as he plants a sweet kiss to your lips. “And then tomorrow, we’ll figure everything out, okay honey?”

You drift off easily, but you’ll find that for now and possibly forever, Mingi always keeps his promises.

A dream — you think, when you wake up, but you recognise that the bedroom is not yours and the ache in your body persists. But to your dismay, Mingi is nowhere to be found. Not until you hear faint humming coming from the kitchen and smell the lovely aroma of pancakes.

“Morning, baby.” Mingi says like you’ve always been in his life, like you’ve lived here for many years, like you’re familiar to him.

“Y-Yeah, good morning, Mingi.” Awkwardly, you take a seat at his island, but as you watch his broad back cooking breakfast for his one-night stand, you relax for a bit.

Mingi piles a few pancakes for you effortlessly, sliding the plate to you, followed by the butter and then holds up maple syrup in his left hand and honey in the other. The question is unsaid, but you nod towards his right with a small smile that’s returned.

“Eat.” With a plate in his hand as well, he plops down beside you as if one-night stands don’t complicate feelings and makes things messy.

But Mingi, the bartender, with a pure heart and even lovelier soul (you have yet to discover this), eats a meal beside you like you’re tied together by fate (maybe).

(You are).

Now, his deep voice sounds small, but sure. “And then we’ll talk feelings after. And we can talk about the ‘after’ after.”

A deep breath for good measure and luck. “And also maybe about the date I’d wanna bring you on.”

by. janus, from me to you ♡ also major thank you to this video which made me lose my mind n inspired this...

2K notes · View notes

cheftsunoda · 2 months ago

Note

okay okay oscar sister who is exactly like oscar in personality and is also a driver and this is her rookie year or second year? but she has the biggest soft spot for ollie? and if you want to do poly maybe kimi and ollie

soft spot — ob87

smau + blurbs

ollie bearman x !piastri driver reader

oscar piastri x !sister driver reader

yn piastri is in her second year of formula 1, racing alongside her older brother — oscar. if you’ve seen him, you’ve basically seen her. same deadpan humor, same terrifying racecraft, same “please don’t talk to me unless you’re an engineer” energy. people say they’re twins born two and a half years apart. and honestly? they’re not wrong. yn piastri doesn’t smile unless she’s on pole. she doesn’t do drama. and she definitely doesn’t do feelings. or at least… that’s what everyone thought. until ollie smiled at her in the paddock — and she actually smiled back. yeah. it’s bad. oscar is horrified.

fc : f1 academy drivers + jazmyn makenna

reader is 21

(a/n) : someone recently asked if i would write 2nd person pov and i kind of suck it at but i wrote this in 2nd- lmk which y'all like better. love you bunches

—

yn_piastri

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, pierregasly and 7,100,011 others.

yn_piastri : flics from the world’s favorite piastri (hattie is catching up to me)

tagged : oscarpiastri, lando and pierregasly

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view 347,012 other comments.

hattiepiastri : as long as it isn’t oscar idc

liked by yn_piastri and lando

↳ yn_piastri : honestly same

↳ oscarpiastri : nobody on this earth can humble me like you two

liked by yn_piastri and hattiepiastri

↳ nicolepiastri : you were given only sisters for a reason. we knew you would need humbled.

liked by yn_piastri and hattiepiastri

↳ username00 : the piastri’s are so special to me.

↳ hattiepiastri : but anyways, yn u look so good. imysm and pls send me that meme.

liked by yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : miss u more. check your messages.

liked by hattiepiastri

↳ oscarpiastri : what the hell does it mean to look microwaveable?

liked by yn_piastri and hattiepiastri

↳ yn_piastri : no clue but the world says you look the part.

lando : i gyatt something in my eye

liked by yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : i cannot stand you 😭

↳ lando : so sit on me instead

liked by yn_piastri

↳ username1 : LANDO- can’t say I blame him.

↳ oscarpiastri : I do not care that we are on the same team. I am driving you off the track.

liked by yn_piastri and lando

oscarpiastri : also why are you hanging out with lando?

↳ yn_piastri : to give you anxiety.

liked by lando

↳ oscarpiastri : it is working.

liked by lando and yn_piastri

alex_albon : microwaveable might be the best adjective anyone has ever used for oscar.

liked by yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : i know!! it just makes sense.

↳ oscarpiastri : no it doesn’t ???

liked by alex_albon and yn_piastri

lilyzneimer : the prettiest girl 🩷

liked by yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : my girllll

username005 : yn was automatically promoted to my fave piastri the second she made alpine her bitch and managed a p3 in the tractor.

liked by pierregasly, francolapinto, yn_piastri and lando

↳ yn_piastri : hey, someone had to do it.

username5 : ynierre is my fave teammate combo in recent years

liked by yn_piastri and pierregasly

↳ pierregasly : we are rather iconic. won’t lie.

liked by yn_piastri

olliebearman : you’ve been killing it recently, yn! 🤍

liked by yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : thanks olliebear!! ❤️

liked by olliebearman

↳ username00 : did she show- emotion?? using emojis and exclamations?? oh mr bearman has her whipped. CONFIRMED

—

It’s a few hours before qualifying, and you’re already suited up, arms crossed as you march down the paddock with one mission— annoy your brother into calling your mother before she calls you again. You find Oscar standing near the McLaren garage, quietly sipping from his water bottle and minding his own business — which, in your world, means he’s due for a sibling attack.

“Oi.”

You tap the back of his helmet with your fingers. “Call Mum.”

He barely turns his head. “Not happening.”

“She’s now threatening to tell Sky Sports that you wet the bed until you were eight.”

Oscar’s eyes narrow behind his sunglasses. “That’s defamation.”

“Is it?” you smirk. “Because I have vivid memories.”

Before he can respond, Lando appears out of nowhere like the nosy older cousin he insists on being, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulder with a grin.

“What are we fighting about today?” he asks. “Family secrets? Childhood trauma?”

You open your mouth to reply, but then something — someone — over by the Haas garage catches your attention. Ollie Bearman. Helmet half-on, gloves in hand, mid-conversation with a race engineer — until he sees you. His eyes light up, and he lifts a hand to wave. Soft smile. The kind you pretend not to read into. And yet, before your brain catches up, your hand lifts. You wave back. And — god forbid — you smile. Not a smirk. Not a scoff. A genuine, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile. It lasts three seconds, max. But that’s more than enough time.

Oscar is staring at you like you just declared love and Lando drops his drink.

“Wait—did you just smile?” Lando blurts, gaping. “At Ollie?”

Oscar squints at you like you’re malfunctioning. “Was that… affection?”

You blink, back in autopilot now. “Shut up.”

“You smiled,” Lando says, turning to Oscar. “She actually smiled. Like, a real one. With teeth and warmth and everything.”

You roll your eyes and walk off like nothing happened. Behind you, Oscar mutters, “I need to sit down.”

—

The second you climb out of the car and pull off your helmet, the noise hits you — cheers from the crowd, Alpine crew shouting and clapping, and somewhere behind you, someone yelling about how the ‘piastri’s have taken over the grid.’

You’re still catching your breath when you spot Oscar stepping down from the P1 board, helmet under his arm, cool as ever — but even he looks a little smug today. He makes his way over and bumps his shoulder against yours.

“P2, huh?” he says, grinning. “Not bad. For my mini-me.”

You snort. “Don’t get used to it. I’ll be in front of you before you know it.”

Before you can say more, Lando bounces over from P3 like he’s won the whole thing. “Look at this!” he beams, throwing an arm over both your shoulders. “Oscar on pole, YN right behind, and me—beautifully, somehow—in third. Honestly? Iconic.”

The three of you walk off toward the media. Oscar looks like he’s trying not to enjoy it too much. Lando looks like he very much is. You? You’re riding the high of sticking it on the front row with your brother. And then—

“P2! Let’s go!”

You turn just as Pierre comes jogging over in full celebratory mode. He’s flushed, still in his race suit, hair a mess under his cap, but he pulls you into a quick hug anyway. “I knew it was coming today,” he says, still grinning. “That last lap was beautiful.”

You grin back. “You mean yours or mine?”

He snorts. “You’re not funny. But yes, yours.”

He ruffles your helmet hair just to be annoying, then heads off to debrief. You’re about to follow Oscar and Lando inside when you hear your name again — softer this time.

“YN.”

You turn. Ollie’s standing a few feet away, helmet in one hand, gloves tucked into his side. There’s a flush on his cheeks that’s definitely from the heat. Probably. Maybe.

“P2,” he says, smiling. “You were incredible.”

It’s not just the words — it’s how he says it. Like he means it. Like he was watching your lap the whole time and still hasn’t fully recovered. And despite the sweat, the adrenaline, the pure chaos in your veins… you smile. Again.

“Thanks,” you say, a little quieter. “That means a lot.”

Ollie hesitates for a second, then adds, “If you keep qualifying like this, I might start believing in Alpine.”

You raise a brow. “Don’t get carried away.”

He grins, stepping back as someone calls his name. “No promises.”

You turn back around just in time to see Lando whispering something to Oscar — who is staring at you like he just solved a mystery he didn’t want the answer to.

“Unreal,” Lando mutters as you approach. “I’ve never seen you smile twice in one day. This is emotional.”

Oscar crosses his arms. “I give it two weeks before we lose her completely.”

You smirk, brushing past them. “Come on boys, Let’s get this over with so I can win the race tomorrow.”

—

The paddock is buzzing — engineers checking last-minute data, cameras weaving through garages, team radios chirping nonstop. You’re standing by your car in full race suit, helmet under your arm, trying to lock into that pre-race focus zone. Almost there. You’ve got this. And then—footsteps. Familiar ones.

You glance to the side just as Ollie approaches, hands tucked into his Haas fire suit, eyes scanning the garage like he’s making sure no one’s watching. Subtle. Kind of. Not really.

“You ready?” he asks, stopping just in front of you. His voice is low enough that it’s meant for you, and only you.

You nod, trying not to smile. “As I’ll ever be.”

He hesitates, then dips his head a little closer. “You’ve got pace today. Just keep your head down in the first few laps. You already know what to do.”

You blink, a little caught off guard. You’d expected a smirk, a joke, maybe a thumbs-up from a distance — not this quiet, sincere energy. Your grip tightens slightly on your helmet. “Hush. You’ll get me all emotional.”

He chuckles, glancing over his shoulder before returning his eyes to you.

“Good. Maybe it’ll slow you down.”

You roll your eyes. “You wish.”

Then he steps back, gives you one last nod — and that smile. The soft one that somehow always short-circuits your brain. And then—of course—

“Am I interrupting something?”

You jump slightly and turn to find Pierre standing a few feet away, arms crossed, the most smug expression plastered across his face.

You blinked, "No."

He raises a brow. “Because that looked a lot like a moment.”

You shoot him a warning look, but that only fuels him.

“Pierre—”

“Should I warn Oscar? Or let him find out on the broadcast?”

“Pierre.”

He grins. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it quiet. For now. But if you out-qualify me again next weekend, I am texting the group chat.”

You shove your helmet into his chest with a dramatic sigh, and he cackles all the way back to the garage. Behind you, someone’s camera flashes, and you swear you hear your race engineer mutter, “God help us if she gets a podium today.”

—

You’re still not entirely sure how it happened. One minute, you were sitting solidly in P2, chasing Oscar down like a dog after a steak. The next, McLaren boxed both cars too early, chaos unfolded, and suddenly you were flying down the pit straight in clean air, your engineer screaming in your ear that you were leading the race. And you held it. For twelve brutal laps.

Now? You’re parked in front of the P1 board. Out of the car. Helmet off. Surrounded by chaos. Drenched in sweat and disbelief and the overwhelming roar of a crowd losing its collective mind over you. You’re half-hugged, half-dragged by your crew and Alpine engineers, someone yelling “SHE DID IT!” while someone else nearly decapitates you with the team flag. You barely register any of it — your ears are ringing, your hands are shaking, your heart’s still trying to figure out how to calm down. And then Oscar appears. He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, both of you laughing like idiots.

“You’re joking,” he says into your ear. “P1? That’s disgusting. You’re insufferable now.”

You pull back, grinning. “I learned from the best.”

“I wasn’t that good— especially in that car.”

“You also didn’t have Pierre screaming strategy codes in French in my left ear.”

Speak of the devil—Pierre shoves through the crowd next, yelling “P1! P1!” like he wasn’t there with you the entire last stint. He nearly tackles you with a hug, helmet still on, bouncing with the kind of energy a toddler on a sugar high has.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pushing him off playfully. “I still have to do interviews, I can’t look like I got mauled by my teammate.”

“You just won your first race,” Pierre says, beaming. “You should look like that.”

Then Lando walks past, looking miserable, soaking wet, visor down. He mutters, “I hate everything,” and you can’t help but yell “Thanks for the strategy!” after him.

Oscar high-fives you. Pierre howls with laughter. But as the madness starts to dull — as the mechanics scatter, the cameras shift, and the adrenaline begins to fade — there’s a beat. A rare, rare quiet moment. And in that sliver of silence, you feel someone step beside you. You turn, and it’s Ollie.

Helmet off, suit zipped halfway down, curls a little damp, a towel around his neck. There’s a small smile on his face, but it’s his eyes that catch you — bright, a little shy, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to be here, but came anyway.

“Hey,” he says softly.

Your heart, which had just settled from the final lap, decides to go full tilt again.

“Hey,” you echo.

He looks at the crowd, then back at you. “I didn’t want to interrupt the chaos.”

“You kind of live in it,” you tease gently.

“Yeah, but this one was yours.” He smiles, and this one is all softness. “I’m really proud of you.”

You don’t mean to blush. You also don’t mean to look away that quickly, but the combination is lethal.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “It doesn’t… it doesn’t feel real yet.”

“You made it look real.”

There’s a pause. A beat. And then, still soft, like he’s scared of startling the moment.

“Hey, um. This might not be the best time — you know, given you just beat half the grid senseless and all — but… would you maybe want to go out sometime?”

You blink. You actually blink. And then you blink again, because your brain is trying to replay the sentence in slow motion to make sure it wasn’t just a post-race hallucination.

You tilt your head. “Like… go out where?”

He gives you a sheepish, nervous laugh. “I don’t know. Like… dinner? Real clothes? A place where no one’s holding a stopwatch?”

You stare at him. Then—smile. A real one. Probably your third of the weekend, which is terrifying, if you’re being honest.

“I’d like that,” you say.

His face lights up in a way you’ve never quite seen before. You’re almost annoyed by how cute it is.

Before either of you can say more, you hear Lando from across the paddock yell, “SOMEONE CHECK HER TEMPERATURE—SHE’S SMILING AGAIN!”

Oscar, from next to him. “That is not my sister. Take the trophy away. Imposter.”

Pierre, sprinting back into the frame with a mic he stole from an interviewer.

“CONFIRMED— Piastri #2 is in love, pass it on!”

You sigh. Ollie laughs. Loudly. But even in the chaos, the roar, the teasing that’s definitely going to last until the next race weekend — he stays next to you. Close. Quiet. Soft. And for once, you don’t mind the noise at all.

—

nicolepiastri added a post to her story!

seen by oscarpiastri, yn_piastri, lilyzneimer and 1,002,002 others.

{caption : both of my children are on the podium but only one answers my calls— CONGRATULATIONS YNN! I LOVE YOU}

—

The second your boots hit the floor of the cooldown room, you finally exhale. Suit unzipped just enough to breathe again. There’s a bottle of water in your hand, a grin you still haven’t managed to shake off, and Oscar sitting on the bench beside you, towel slung around his neck and smirking like he’s the one who won. He’s been like this since parc fermé. Teasing. Poking. Looking entirely too pleased for someone who got bumped from P1 because of a McLaren meltdown.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, scrolling through your messages. The notifications are endless — texts, mentions, a dozen missed calls from your mum alone.

Oscar’s already watching you with far too much interest. “Oh good, you’re finally calling her. She’s going to yell at me and cry for you. What a reward.”

You don’t dignify him with a response. Instead, you hit FaceTime. It rings once. Then twice. And then — your mum answers with all the emotional chaos.

“Oh my GOD, YN!”

You barely get a “Hi, Mum—” out before she’s off.

“You WON a Grand Prix! I almost passed out in the living room! Hattie screamed! I was crying during the last ten laps—you didn’t even look nervous! And then the overtake after the pit stop—!”

You hold the phone out slightly so she doesn’t deafen you. Oscar leans over your shoulder and makes a dramatic shocked face into the camera.

“Hi Mum,” he says flatly. “Your second-favorite child reporting in.”

“Oh hush, Oscar. You’re still on probation for ignoring my calls last week.”

You snort.

“I CALLED YOU FIVE TIMES,” she continues. “AND DON’T THINK I DIDN’T SEE THAT SMILE, YN. Don’t even try to act like you weren’t looking at Ollie Bearman like he hung the moon.”

You nearly drop the phone.

“MUM!”

Oscar cackles. Loudly. “Knew it. I knew it. There was a look.”

You turn to him, horrified. “She saw it on the broadcast?!”

Your mum is beaming. “Oh, everyone saw it. You smiled like you were in love. It was very unlike you.”

Oscar’s already doubled over. “You’re DONE. You’re actually finished. Mum caught the soft launch before anyone. You’re slipping.”

“Both of you need to be quiet,” you hiss, gripping your water bottle like a weapon.

Your mum shakes her head fondly. “Darling, I’m happy for you. First race win and a boy you actually like? That’s a big day.”

Oscar snorts to himself “I give it two weeks before we’re picking wedding venues.”

You gave him a look and said, “I give it two minutes before I throw this at your head.”

“Do it,” Oscar dares, eyes wide with laughter. “Make it the first sibling fight broadcast live from the cooldown room.”

You sigh so hard you think your soul leaves your body. “I just wanted to say thank you and maybe get a little love from my supportive family and instead I’m being roasted alive.”

Oscar’s already taking selfies with your phone and trying to angle you both into the frame while your mum yells something about screen recording this for Hattie. Eventually, you end the call, cheeks pink, body aching from the race — and from the sheer emotional whiplash of it all. Oscar tosses you your towel. “Well, race winner. You’ve survived the podium, the press, and Mum. You’re practically unstoppable.”

You sigh, leaning back against the bench with a grin.

“God help me if she meets Ollie.”

Oscar just smirks. “Oh, she’s already planning it.”

—

yn_piastri

liked by olliebearman, nicolepiastri, pierregasly and 10,001,008 others.

yn_piastri : life as a race winner is pretty sweet

tagged : pierregasly and olliebearman

—

view 890,001 other comments.

logansargeant : we get it. you are fast and in love. so proud of you, kid!

liked by yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : ignoring the in love part. but LOGANNNNNNN i miss you

liked by logansargeant

hattiepiastri : text me back right this instant. i have questions. but oMG MY SISTER IS A RACE WINNER. I LOVE YOUUUUU

liked by yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : love you more

↳ oscarpiastri : i did NOT get this much love my first win.

↳ nicolepiastri : you also didn’t dedicate your first win to your mother and your sisters— yn did.

liked by yn_piastri and hattiepiastri

nicolepiastri : i see him yn. i need to meet him.

liked by oscarpiastri and lando

pierregasly : absolutely incredible! (you are my favorite teammate) (no one tell estie bestie)

liked by yn_piastri

alpinef1team : OUR QUEEN 🩷💙🤍🏆

liked by yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : you are welcome.

carlossainz55 : LET HER COOK 🗣️

liked by yn_piastri

lando : you are the only person i’d be okay with stealing this race from me

liked by yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : blame your team, norris.

georgerussell63 : You were absolutely insane out there! Congratulations YN!

liked by yn_piastri

lilyzneimer : YAYYYYY! Congratulations YN! You made all of us so proud:)

liked by yn_piastri

franciscagomes : I am so proud of you, YN! Restored my faith in the team 😭

liked by yn_piastri

olliebearman : You are incredible. 🩷💙

liked by yn_piastri, lando and oscarpiastri

—

You’re used to chaos — engine noise, media scrums, strategy debriefs, Oscar’s constant dry commentary. What you’re not used to? This. Silence. Comfort. A night without cameras, paddock chatter, or telemetry breakdowns. Just soft lighting, quiet music, and Ollie Bearman sitting across from you at a candlelit table, cheeks flushed and curls slightly messy from where he kept running his hand through them.

He picks nervously at the edge of his napkin and smiles at you like you’re the only person who exists in the entire world. And somehow, that doesn’t feel overwhelming. It feels… right.

“I still can’t believe you said yes,” he says, breaking the silence with a sheepish little grin.

You raise an eyebrow over your wine glass. “You asked me right after I won a Grand Prix. Your timing was immaculate.”

He laughs — that full, warm, boyish laugh you’ve only ever heard from him around his engineers or when he’s completely relaxed. It settles something in your chest.

“Okay, fair,” he says. “I might’ve used the momentum to my advantage.”

You tilt your head, smiling. “Would’ve said yes anyway.”

He goes quiet for a second. Then his voice drops, just a little.

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

The words settle between you like a secret. Like something sacred. Dinner comes and goes — light food, laughter, gentle teasing. He makes fun of the way you concentrate so hard when you cut your food, and you tease him for still saying “thank you” to every single staff member like it’s his first day on Earth.

At one point, your feet bump under the table and you freeze — but he doesn’t pull away. Just smiles at you, like he knows how rare it is for you to let anyone close.

“You’re not what I expected, you know,” he says suddenly, once dessert is cleared. “When I first met you, I thought you hated me.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s just my face. And you were loud.”

He laughs. “Still am.”

“Still true.”

But then you glance at him — really look — and say, a little quieter, “I didn’t hate you. I just didn’t know how to be around someone who made me feel like this.”

He pauses. His smile softens. “Like what?”

You shrug, like it’s not terrifying to admit this out loud. “Like I don’t have to be on guard. Like… I can breathe.”

It hangs in the air between you. He doesn’t rush to fill it, doesn’t joke, doesn’t look away. He just reaches across the table, gentle and sure, and lets his fingers brush yours. You don’t flinch. You don’t pull away. Instead, you let your hand settle in his.

“Me too,” he says softly. “That’s how you make me feel.”

Later, when you’re outside under the soft glow of city lights, waiting for your car to arrive, he stands beside you with his hands in his pockets, the air thick with something sweet and unspoken.

He looks over at you. “Can I—?”

You beat him to it. You lean in and kiss him. It’s slow. It’s soft. It’s not fireworks or fanfare — it’s better. It’s quiet warmth. A kind of safety you didn’t know you wanted until now. When you pull back, his smile is dazed and dopey and perfect.

“Yeah,” he says, blinking. “That answers that.”

Your car pulls up. He opens the door for you.

Before you step in, you glance over your shoulder.

“Next time,” you say, “you pick the restaurant.”

“There’s gonna be a next time?” he teases.

You smirk. “If you keep smiling at me like that, yeah.”

You slide into the car, and he’s still standing there when you look back — grinning like he just won a race.

—

You should’ve known something was off the second your phone stopped buzzing. No texts from Oscar. No memes from Lando. Not even a meme. Just… silence. Peaceful. Suspicious. You’re halfway through a rerun of some terrible reality show, face scrubbed clean, hoodie three sizes too big, snacks in your lap — when it happens. Someone’s pounding on your front door like you’re harboring state secrets. You pause. Narrow your eyes. It can’t be—You open the door. It is.

Oscar and Lando stand there like a chaotic sitcom duo, Oscar in a hoodie with a smug look on his face and Lando wearing sunglasses indoors like he is about to interrogate you.

Oscar raises a brow. “So. You had a date.”

You blink. “Hello to you too?”

Lando pushes past you like he owns the place. “You kissed him, didn’t you?”

“What—no—why would—”

Oscar follows behind, stepping over your shoes with the precision of a man on a mission. “You smiled three times in one weekend. THREE. We checked. And now you’re soft launching.”

You fold your arms. “Get out of my house.”

Lando flops dramatically onto your couch, eyes wide. “Did you let him kiss you? Did you—initiate the kiss?”

“I—”

Oscar points. “She did. She’s pausing.”

“Deny it,” Lando dares. “Say it didn’t happen. Say you didn’t fall for him.”

You open your mouth to snap back—and then the doorbell rings. The timing is cursed. You all freeze.

Oscar squints. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No,” you say slowly.

Lando’s already halfway to the door. “Oh this is good. This is cinema.”

You try to beat him there, but he swings the door open before you can even shout. And standing there — because the universe is a menace — is a delivery guy holding the most obnoxiously romantic bouquet you’ve ever seen. White peonies. Baby’s breath. Little bits of Alpine blue ribbon tied into the stems.

“Delivery for YN Piastri?” the guy says.

Behind you, Oscar lets out a strangled sound. “You’re joking.”

Lando’s cackling. Full on, no-holds-barred, bent-over laughter. “FLOWERS?! OLLIE SENT YOU FLOWERS?!”

You try to grab the bouquet, but Lando intercepts it instantly.

“He signed the card,” he says, reading aloud in his most smug voice. “‘Can’t stop thinking about last night. Hope today’s just as sweet. Ollie 🐻’ — there’s a BEAR EMOJI. I’m gonna be sick.”

“Give it to me,” you hiss, lunging for the card.

“You’re in LOVE,” Lando gasps, gripping the armrest of the couch like he’s witnessing a plot twist in a soap opera. “You’re actually in love. Our cold-blooded, deadpan ice queen is giggling over peonies.”

“I am NOT giggling—”

Oscar snaps a photo of you holding the bouquet like it’s evidence in a court case. “Mum is going to LOSE IT when she sees this.”

You nearly scream. “DO NOT SEND THAT TO MUM.”

“You’re lucky I’m not sending it to Ollie with a message that says ‘take good care of our emotionally unavailable menace,’” Lando says, grinning.

You collapse onto the couch and bury your face in your hands as the two of them spiral — Oscar dramatically pacing and reading the card out loud again, and Lando pretending to write a best man speech into your Notes app.

“You guys are unwell,” you mumble.

“And you,” Oscar says, dropping onto the armrest beside you, “are in trouble.”

“Big trouble,” Lando adds. “Because now we care. Now we’re invested. We’re emotionally attached to the Ollie situation.”

“God help him,” Oscar mutters. “He’s dating you.”

You look up, cheeks warm, bouquet in your lap. And despite the chaos, the teasing, and the complete invasion of your private life… you smile.

“Yeah,” you say. “Poor guy’s doomed.”

—

It’s late. The house is finally quiet. Oscar and Lando have been banished, the flower bouquet has been moved to the kitchen and you’re lying in bed, hoodie on, phone somewhere near your pillow. You should’ve known she’d call. When Nicole’s name flashes on your screen, you hesitate for half a second… then swipe to answer.

“Hi, Mum.”

“You got flowers.”

Her tone is calm, knowing — the exact way she used to say ‘I know what you did’ when you were seven and tried to hide chocolate under your pillow.

You sigh. “Yes. I did.”

“From Ollie Bearman.”

You groan and bury your face in your pillow. “I’m aware.”

There’s a pause. Not awkward. Just soft. Then, gently—

“Do you want to tell me about him?”

You’re quiet for a long beat. And then, maybe for the first time, you don’t dodge the question. You stare at the ceiling and let the truth slip out in a whisper. “He’s… kind.”

“Kind?”

“Yeah,” you murmur. “He’s patient. And funny in this really low-key, unforced way. He doesn’t treat me like I’m difficult to figure out, he just… wants to. And he makes me feel safe. I haven’t felt that in a while.”

There’s another pause. But it’s warm. Like your mum is letting that settle in her chest. Then you hear her smile through the phone.

“I like him already.”

You exhale. “Yeah. Me too.”

“He’s going to get a proper interrogation when I see him, though.”

You groan. “Of course he is.”

Nicole laughs softly. “I’m your mum. It’s in the contract. But YN?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really proud of you. And not just for the win. For letting someone in.”

You close your eyes, heart unexpectedly full.

“…Thanks, Mum.”

You hang up a few minutes later. And for the first time that day, the silence feels calm. Not lonely. Just safe. Just sweet.

—

You should’ve known Ollie was up to something the second he picked you up on time. Hair slightly damp, curls pushed back, white linen shirt on. Waiting outside your flat in Monaco with a quiet smile and one hand behind his back.

“What’s that look for?” you asked, narrowing your eyes as you stepped outside.

“I have a plan,” he said simply. “And no, you’re not allowed to make fun of it.”

Now you’re sitting in the back of a sleek car winding up the narrow streets of Monaco, your hand resting in his, the glittering lights of the coastline slipping past you like a movie. And you realize—this feels different. Intentional. Soft. Thoughtful in the way only Ollie seems capable of pulling off without it ever feeling overdone.

You glance at him. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

He grins. “Nope.”

You squint. “If it’s a boat thing, I swear—”

“It’s not a boat thing. Though I’m offended you think I’d try to drown you this early in our relationship.”

That word—relationship—hangs in the air for a second. Neither of you comment on it. But you smile. The car finally slows to a stop in front of a restaurant tucked into a quiet cliffside — all soft lighting, ocean views, and the kind of clientele that could probably buy half the grid.

You blink. “Wait… this place?”

Ollie only nods. Smug.

“You can’t get a reservation here unless you’re a royal or a Michelin inspector,” you murmur, stunned. “I’ve been trying for months.”

“I know,” he says, helping you out of the car. “I called them every day for a week. And also begged. A little. Not proud.”

You stare at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

He smirks. “Yeah. For you.”

The restaurant is perfect. It’s candlelit and quiet, with ocean air drifting in through open archways and the faint hum of a string quartet playing somewhere nearby. They seat you at a private table on a balcony overlooking the water. And Ollie? Ollie just watches you with that same soft awe he always seems to have when you’re not looking. Except now you catch him.

You tilt your head. “You’re staring.”

“Obviously,” he replies. “You look like you belong in a movie.”

You scoff. “You’re so full of it.”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes sparkling. “It’s kind of a problem.”

You eat slowly. Talk easily. About everything and nothing. He asks about your pre-race rituals. You ask about his favorite circuit to crash on in which you receive a snort. He makes fun of the way you order pasta like you’re judging the chef. You call him out for stealing bites of your dessert. But beneath it all, there’s this steady, comfortable rhythm — like the two of you are already past the awkward part of love and deep into the good stuff. The safe stuff. The quiet knowing. As the night winds down and you think it’s over, Ollie stands and holds his hand out.

“One more surprise,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re kidding.”

“Come on.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re at the top of a hill in a tucked-away indoor karting track — privately rented out. You blink at the scene in front of you. The neon lights. The empty grid. Two karts already prepped.

“You… rented a karting track?” you ask, stunned.

He shrugs, trying to look casual. “You said you haven’t been in years. Just for fun.”

“That’s because when I go, I overheat the tires and scare children.”

He grins. “Exactly. I want to see that.”

And so, somehow, your perfect Monaco date ends with the two of you in full helmets and borrowed race suits, gunning down a tight corner in fifty-kilo karts, yelling across the straightaways and laughing like you’re both fifteen again. He tries to block you once. Once. You pass him on the outside, flick the rear end just to be cocky, and when you take the checkered flag, you slow down just in time to see him dramatically pull over and fake defeat. You climb out and yank your helmet off with a grin.

“Not bad for a date night, huh?” he asks, breathless.

You roll your eyes, cheeks flushed. “I won.”

He steps closer. “Yeah,” he murmurs, reaching to brush a bit of helmet hair from your face. “But I still feel like I came out ahead.”

You bite back a smile. “That was so cheesy.”

He shrugs. “You like it.”

You do. God, you really do. And when he kisses you, right there at the edge of the track, under flickering fluorescent lights and the buzz of your post-race high, it feels like a new kind of perfect. The kind you didn’t know you deserved.

—

several weeks later…

f1gossipgirls

5,023,001 likes.

f1gossipgirls : It’s a full family affair in the paddock today! YN Piastri was spotted arriving hand in hand with Ollie Bearman — and showed up with his family. One well-timed photo even caught him kissing her on the cheek. Soft launch? Over. Meanwhile, Nicole Piastri and Lily were seen walking the paddock together like seasoned pros. And yes, the Piastri sisters were all there too — spotted repping Alpine with their father, Chris Piastri, screaming for YN during quali. Busy day for the Piastris. And we’re eating it up.

—

You don’t do the whole hand-holding thing. Not usually. Not where cameras can see. Not where half the grid is lurking behind sunglasses and PR smiles. But today? Your hand is in Ollie’s, swinging ever so slightly as you walk through the paddock, and you don’t care who sees. His mum is on his other side, his siblings somewhere behind you, and the sun’s warm, and the media pens are quiet for once. It’s good. It’s easy. Until Oscar appears like a summoned demon. He materializes in front of you, squinting like he just saw something traumatizing. Which, apparently, he has.

“Oh my God,” he says. “You’re still holding hands?”

You blink at him. “Good morning to you, too.”

Ollie lets out a soft, polite laugh that makes Oscar narrow his eyes even harder.

He turns fully to you, arms crossed. “Right. Well. Mum’s waiting.”

You pause. “Okay… for what?”

Oscar jerks his thumb toward hospitality. “To meet him.”

Ollie blinks. “Sorry—what?”

Oscar shrugs like this isn’t the most dangerous escalation of your relationship. “She saw the kiss. She saw the flowers. She’s making tea and says she’s ‘ready for the boy with the curls.’”

You stare at him. “You set me up.”

Oscar grins. “No, Mum did. I’m just the messenger.”

Beside you, Ollie squeezes your hand — just once — like he’s steadying you, even though he’s about to walk straight into the lion’s den.

“Should I be scared?” he asks, voice low near your ear.

You sigh. “Yes. But smile and she might let you live.”

Oscar’s already walking ahead of you, smug as ever. “Hurry up, lovebirds. She’s heating scones and practicing her interrogation voice.”

And just like that, the paddock peace is over — and the Piastri family trial begins.

—

You walk into Alpine hospitality holding Ollie’s hand like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded — which, to be fair, it is. He’s calm. Charming. A little flushed, but smiling, like he doesn’t realize he’s about to be thoroughly interrogated by the people who know you better than you know yourself.

“Mum will be nice,” you mutter as you walk.

“Are you saying that for me or for yourself?” he asks, quietly.

“Both.”

And then there she is — Nicole Piastri, standing just inside the hospitality suite, sipping tea from a floral mug that she definitely packed from home. Her expression is warm but calculating, and beside her— Oh God. Dad’s here too. Chris Piastri, arms folded, wearing sunglasses indoors like he’s security, and looking very serious about this meeting. You stop short.

“Hi,” you say, maybe a little too loudly.

Nicole’s smile widens. “Darling. There you are.”

Ollie steps up beside you. “Hi, Mrs. Piastri. Mr. Piastri. I’m—”

“We know who you are,” Chris says flatly.

Nicole gently nudges his arm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Chris, he’s adorable.” She turns to Ollie with a dazzling smile. “Sit down, dear. We made you tea.”

Ollie blinks. “You—what?”

“She brewed you her best tea,” you mutter under your breath. “I’ve never even been offered the best tea.”

Chris sits, still sizing Ollie up like he’s a rival team’s lead strategist. “So. You like our daughter.”

Ollie opens his mouth. Closes it again. “Uh—yes. Very much.”

Nicole hums. “He’s honest. I like that.”

“She’s emotionally unavailable,” Chris says bluntly. “You know that, right?”

Ollie, bless him, just nods. “She is. I like that too.”

You shoot him a look. He shrugs like—What? It’s true.

Nicole is delighted. “He’s charming. Chris, stop being a grump.”

Chris sighs like he’s being personally victimized. “Fine. But I reserve the right to glare at him.”

Then, like fate planned it, the doors swing open.

“Oh my GOD, is that him?!”

Hattie’s voice cuts through the air like a missile, and before you can even brace, three little hurricanes storm in.

Hattie, Edie, and Mae — your three youngest sisters, all armed with iPhones, iced coffees, and very little shame.

You immediately try to flee. “Nope. Absolutely not. Goodbye—”

But they swarm.

Hattie practically tackles you in a hug before turning to Ollie like a game show host. “So you’re the boy.”

“Nice curls,” Edie adds, squinting. “Did you style them just for her?”

Mae takes a photo from behind her phone. “This is going to be included at the wedding album.”

“MAE.”

Ollie is visibly trying not to laugh. “I’m… honored? Terrified? A mix.”

Chris raises his mug. “Welcome to the family.”

Nicole just leans back with a satisfied smile. “I love when everyone’s here.”

”Oscar isn’t.” Mae said with a smirk.

You look at Ollie — completely surrounded, pink in the cheeks, but grinning at your sisters like he’s having the time of his life. He catches your eye and mouths, You okay? You mouth back, You’re the one in danger. He just shrugs. Like he’d walk into the lion’s den a thousand times if it meant he got to hold your hand at the end of it. And honestly? That’s the moment you know he’s already one of them.

—

You’d done it. Again. The flag dropped, the roar erupted, and your name came through the radio— your race engineer’s voice first — “P1, YN. You’re P1.” This time, there was no shock. No disbelief. Just joy. Crashing, overwhelming joy. But nothing compared to the moment you stepped onto the top step of the podium and looked out at the sea of faces — and saw them. Your family. All of them. Nicole was standing in the front row of the Alpine viewing box, her hand covering her mouth, eyes shining. Chris stood behind her, his sunglasses off, wiping something off his cheek and pretending it was sweat. Oscar was already leaning over the rail, fists in the air, grinning like an idiot. Lily beside him, filming everything on her phone. And then there were your sisters — Hattie with her Alpine cap backwards, Edie screaming at a security guard to move, and Mae sobbing into a little handmade sign that read “LET HER COOK.”

And Ollie — in the Haas garage at first, but then suddenly appearing like magic at the edge of parc fermé, mouthing “I told you.” You barely held it together through the anthem. Through the champagne. Through the press photos. But the moment they let you go — the moment you stepped off that podium and your eyes met Oscar’s? You ran. Trophy tucked under your arm, still half in your suit, you sprinted toward the team area, dodging cameras and PR handlers, until you reached them. Oscar met you first — grabbing you and spinning you around before you could even say anything.

“Back-to-back wins?” he shouted over the noise. “You trying to make me look bad?”

You laughed, breathless. “I’m just better than you now.”

“Not wrong,” he said, grinning proudly.

Then came your mum. Nicole crushed you into a hug that smelled like floral perfume and peppermint tea and home.

“My girl,” she whispered. “You were magnificent.”

“I couldn’t hear you crying from the podium,” you teased.

“I was very discreet, thank you.”

Your dad pulled you into a quick, tight hug next, gruffly muttering, “You’ve made us so proud. But next time, don’t scare me with that overtake on Lap 42. I nearly aged ten years.”

Then the girls tackled you — all at once.

“You were FLYING!” Hattie screamed.

“You BLEW past Max like he was standing still!” Edie shouted.

“I’m not okay,” Mae sobbed. “I haven’t stopped crying since Lap 50.”

You were laughing and crying and breathless, overwhelmed and completely surrounded by love. And when you finally looked up, Ollie was standing a few feet away — waiting. Watching. Giving you space to have your moment. You stepped away from the circle of siblings and met him halfway.

“I told you,” he said again, voice soft, eyes glowing.

“I know,” you whispered, smiling. “But hearing it was different than believing it.”

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, gently, reverently. “Do you believe it now?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

He didn’t kiss you. Not here. Not yet. But he squeezed your hand once, and it said everything.

—

Your family rented out a little restaurant tucked into a side street in town — your mum insisted it had to be cozy and not fussy. No press. No cameras. Just you, your family, and a table full of food and noise. Oscar sat at the head of the table like he ran the whole operation, passing bread baskets and complaining about the wine like he knew anything. Your sisters retold the race from their perspective at least six times, each version more dramatic than the last. Nicole ordered dessert for the table before anyone even got halfway through dinner.

Chris made a speech — short, emotional, voice cracking halfway through and he denied it many times. And Ollie? Ollie sat beside you, not trying to dominate the conversation, not trying to steal attention — just being there.

He listened. He laughed. He made Hattie giggle so hard she snorted lemonade through her nose. He leaned over when things got loud and asked if you were okay. He held your hand under the table when no one was looking. He fit.

By the end of the night, Nicole had slipped him an extra dessert plate and whispered, “You’re staying, aren’t you?”

And when Ollie looked to you — grinning, hopeful — you just nodded.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s staying.” The table erupted again. And this time, when they toasted? They toasted to you. To the girl who won. To the girl who loved. To the girl who let herself be known. And for once — completely, deeply, happily — you let them.

—

olliebearman

liked by yn_piastri, oscarpiastri, hattiepiastri and 7,770,001 others.

olliebearman : 2 time race winner AND MY GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!

tagged : yn_piastri

—

view 770,134 other comments.

oscarpiastri : AND MY SISTER!!!!!!! so watch yourself.

liked by olliebearman

↳ yn_piastri : no one is scared of your threats, remember, the internet thinks you look microwaveable.

liked by alex_albon and olliebearman

↳ oscarpiastri : WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT MEAN

liked by yn_piastri, alex_albon and olliebearman

lando : you have to break up now. you gave her superpowers, she cannot keep winning.

liked by olliebearman and yn_piastri

↳ yn_piastri : BOOOOOOOOO. just get better at driving.

liked by oscarpiastri, lando and olliebearman

pierregasly : this is disgusting. i am sick to my stomach. but you guys are so cute i can’t be mad. take care of my menace.

liked by yn_piastri and olliebearman

hattiepiastri : can i be maid of honor?????

liked by yn_piastri and olliebearman

↳ oscarpiastri : you are assuming he will want to marry her.

↳ olliebearman : i do.

liked by yn_piastri, hattiepiastri, nicolepiastri and lando

↳ hattiepiastri : SFJRBFJASDFNOISAERDFNG OMH

↳ oscarpiastri : never speaking again.

↳ yn_piastri : aw ollie u broke both of them. i love youuu

liked by olliebearman

—

1K notes · View notes

keeryhours · 3 months ago

Text

teen pregnancy series - eddie munson part 1

Eddie Munson x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Teen Pregnancy Series Masterlist

Summary:

A broken condom leads to the end of your life as you knew it.

Part 2

Warnings:

Smut (18+), oral (m and f receiving), p in v, fingering, pregnancy, threatened miscarriage, drug use (weed), shitty parents, Al Munson

Word Count: 19.2k

A/N:

I am literally the most impatient person in the world so here’s part 1 early! Part 2 will be out very soon, I’m locked in. Thank you @glassbxttless for my banner and for reading this ❤️

You loved waking up next to Eddie.

The soft rise and fall of his breathing, the wild way his hair would be splayed out across the pillow, his lips parted as he snored lightly, the peaceful look on his handsome face. Sometimes you would just watch him sleep. Other times you would trace his tattoos until he woke with a smile.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he’d say, his voice still dripping with sleep.

“Good morning yourself,” you’d say back.

This was what it was like most mornings you woke up with Eddie. It wasn’t hard to sneak into his place at night. Your parents went to sleep at 9pm on the dot, all too easy to slip out your window and to your bike. You didn’t even have to sneak into Eddie’s, the front door was fine - Wayne worked nights, and you didn’t think he’d care either way. Wayne loved you.

There was nothing quite like sleeping in Eddie’s arms. It was your safe place. Warm and cozy, like being enveloped in pure love. It was no wonder you’d rather spend the night there than in your cold bed alone with parents who didn’t particularly like you anyway.

It was the alarm that woke you up this day. Fucking school day. The alarm clock blared bright and early at 5:30am - earlier than Eddie would usually get up, but it took you a bit longer to get ready.

You shut the alarm off so as not to wake Eddie up too much and sat up in bed with a big stretch and a yawn. Eddie grabbed onto your arm as you were climbing out of bed.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled, not even moving his face from where it was half buried in his pillow and covered by his disheveled hair.

“I gotta get ready, baby,” you told him. “We have school.”

“Fuck school,” he said, voice muffled.

You laughed. “Babe, we have to go.”

He shuffled closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “I just wanna stay in bed with you all day.”

“I want that too,” you said, and god, you did. “But we can’t.”

Eddie groaned but relented, letting you get up. You slid off the bed, turning for one last look at him. He was sleeping on his belly, arms wrapped around his pillow. His head was turned to the side, but you couldn’t see any of his face for all the hair. The comforter rested just at his hips, and he was naked beneath it. You admired his body, his tattoos, the slightest glimpse of the curve of his ass before the blanket hid it away from your eyes. You have to force yourself to look away.

Naked yourself, you slip on one of Eddie’s shirts and a pair of panties you’d packed for now. You yawned again as you walked out of Eddie’s room and down the hall to the bathroom. Wayne was asleep on the fold out bed in the living room, probably just now passed out from work. You started up the shower, the finicky faucet taking a few minutes to get to the right temperature.

When you were satisfied, you stripped again, sitting a towel on the side of the sink and then climbing into the hot water. You always kept some shower stuff at Eddie’s, god knows you were over at his place enough.

You closed your eyes under the torrent of water. At least the water pressure at the trailer was good. You were just about to start shampooing your hair when you felt a familiar pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, a head on your shoulder, kissing your neck.

You melted back into the embrace, a smile crossing your lips. You could feel him hard behind you, his kisses on your neck turning needier and sloppy, biting down every now and then. He always liked to mark you up.

“Need you,” he grumbled against your skin, fingers tightening on your body as if to prove his point.

You chuckled breathlessly. “Last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Never enough,” he growled. “You know I can’t control myself when you’re in my house, taking showers, walking around like this. And all mine.”

You gasped when he spun you around, pressing your back against the shower wall and kissing you deeply, aggressively. You kissed him back just as eagerly, your fingers tangling in his wet hair. He lifted your leg, his tip pressing against your entrance, then- “Fuck. No condom.”

“Like at all?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

“We used our last ones last night. I need to buy more.” He groaned, forehead falling onto your shoulder. “Shit!”

“It’s okay,” you said, trailing a hand up his side. “I can still get you off?”

He leaned back to look at you. “Are you sure? You don’t have to. I feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you said, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes as you sunk to your knees. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie whispered, cock twitching as he watched you get on your knees for him. The way you looked up at him from down there was…fuck, he’d never seen anything like it. No porno in the world could ever compare.

His hand slid through your hair as you opened your mouth for him, he tapped his cock on your tongue, rubbing the underside of it there, a low groan spilling unwillingly from his lips.

“We have to be quiet,” he said, “Wayne is right out there.”

“I think you should be telling yourself that, big boy,” you teased. You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked, and he lurched forward, free hand landing on the shower wall behind you.

He let out a low “Ahhhh”, a mix between a hiss and a moan as you took him further into your mouth. “That’s my girl.”

You moaned around him, deep throating his impressive length properly as he watched you in amazement, his eyes half lidded, lips parted. His hand caressed the side of your head as you pleasured him, like he was so appreciative but didn’t know the words to say, if there were any. Maybe the best thanks he could give you is just to enjoy it now - and bury himself between your thighs until he can’t breathe later. Maybe you’d sit on his face. He fucking loved that.

“Baby, baby,” he moaned in a near whisper, delicious groans spilling from his lips after. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this.”

You hummed around him, making his hips jerk into your mouth. You always knew exactly how to get him going, exactly what made him weak in the knees, what made him fall apart. And oh, was he falling apart above you.

His breathing turned to pants, his slender tattooed chest rising and falling rapidly. His hand tightened in your hair, thighs beginning to shake.

“Gonna cum,” he warned you in a whisper. “Fuck, I’m- don’t stop, I’m so close-“

You didn’t stop. You worked even harder, working for what he was about to give you, showing him how bad you wanted it - needed it. You bobbed your head on his cock quickly, tongue working the underside, and his expression looked pained.

“Fuck,” he panted. “Baby, baby, I-“

He threw his head back with a cry as it hit him, his dick pulsing as he shot his cum into your waiting mouth. He quickly looked back down, watching you take it, watching you swallow every drop of what he was giving you as he moaned, seemingly forgetting all about being quiet.

When you pulled off of him, he was leaning against the shower wall. He looked like a total vision like this, lean naked body against the wall, wet hair hanging down his shoulders, breathing heavily and dripping wet. You had the intense urge to lick every inch of his body.

“Fuckin’ incredible,” he finally said, pulling you to him again and kissing you. He didn’t care that there was still the slightest bit of him still on your tongue. He licked into your mouth anyway, tasting all of you, the mixture of the two of you. “I want to devour you, baby, please.”

“We don’t have time,” you said regrettably. “But later.” A wink.

Eddie smirked at you as you both continued with your shower, washing your hair and washing each other’s bodies. Eddie was hard again by the time the shower was over, but there was no time for more.

You stepped out with a towel around your body and one around your hair. Eddie grabbed one and wrapped it around his waist. God, he looked so hot like this.

“Let me help you,” you said. You grabbed the curl cream you had bought him and put some in your hands, rubbing the product through Eddie’s hair. The poor guy had no idea how to take care of his curls before you met him. His hair was always so frizzy, and one day you were just like - “You know it doesn’t have to be that way, right?”

Eddie closed his eyes and hummed as you did his hair. He had to admit, he absolutely loved when you did this. It was so relaxing. He had never had someone take care of his hair for him. He barely did it himself before you.

When he was taken care of, you did your own hair while Eddie brushed his teeth then shaved. You brushed your own teeth then applied your makeup while he splashed his familiar aftershave on his cheeks.

He pulled on his boxers and you snuck back to his room in your towel. You knew there was nothing to worry about, Wayne slept after work until the afternoon. You searched through your overnight bag, finding the skirt and top you planned to wear today.

Eddie couldn’t handle how put together you looked. His beautiful girl. He couldn’t believe you were his.

He pulled his jeans on with a Hellfire shirt and his denim jacket. “You know you can leave some clothes and stuff over here?”

“I already do,” you giggled, thinking of the multiple bras and underwear sets stuffed in his dresser, the curling iron you kept here, the shower stuff and self care.

“Yeah but…” He shrugged. “You could keep more. Keep a whole wardrobe here, I don’t care. You sleep here more than at your own house anyway.”

“Edward Munson,” you said, lightly slapping his chest with a smile. “Are you trying to get me to move in?”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” he asked, sliding his arms around your waist.

“Baby,” you said, a slight giggle. “We’re still in high school.”

“Yeah, but we’re both adults, technically. I’m almost 20, you’re 18…”

“You still live with your uncle, and I don’t think there’s a world where my parents would allow it, Eddie.”

The mention of your parents soured the mood. Your parents sucked. They were mean, self centered snobs, and they hated Eddie. They never even seemed that crazy about you.

“Fuck your parents,” Eddie said, a sentiment he held often. “You’re a big girl.”

You shook your head, a smile playing at your lips. “Maybe after high school? I don’t want to intrude on Wayne either.”

“Wayne loves you.”

“He already has one freeloader,” you teased.

“Hey!” he said, mock offended. “I’ll have you know my dealing business brings in lots of money.”

The drug dealing was a sore subject. You hated that he did it, but he wasn’t willing to give it up. He made a lot of money from it, enough to help out Wayne and take you on dates and get things he wanted and needed. In his mind, it was a great gig. In your own, you saw visions of Eddie in handcuffs, Hopper carting him off to jail. You said nothing about it.

“We need to get going,” you said instead. “I don’t want to be late.”

Eddie looked at you for a moment. Finally he nodded, snatching his keys off the table. “Alright. Let’s go.”

You walked out to his van with your backpack slung over your shoulder. He opened the door for you like he always did, and you climbed in. The old van took a couple tries to start, but ultimately did.

“Need to get her checked out,” Eddie mumbled. “Could probably do it myself.”

Eddie was great with cars. And he loved them. He was the sole reason this van was still running at all, the amount of work he’d put into it was insane.

It didn’t take long to pull into the parking lot of Hawkins High. It was packed as always. You saw your best friend Robin by Steve Harrington’s car - Steve, who didn’t even go here anymore - and you smiled and waved back at her.

“Go see Robs,” Eddie encouraged as he killed the engine. “I’ve got to catch up with the guys about our campaign tonight.”

Fuck. The campaign.

“Should I get a ride home with Robin and Steve?”

“Maybe?” Eddie said sheepishly. “Or I can run you home before we start.”

“It’s fine,” you said, “I’ll catch a ride with them. You guys have fun. It’s the big one, right?”

“Yep,” Eddie said with pride. “The end of the campaign. These fuckers have no idea what I have in store for them.”

You laughed. “I’m sure it’s a sadistic as ever.”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt, opening your door. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Of course, beautiful.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, a reminder of all you’d done together since last night and all the things you would do together next time you were alone.

You hopped out and met up with Robin as Eddie sauntered into the building. “Hey, Robs!”

“Hey!” She pulled you into a hug. “Are you ready for Mrs. O’Donnell’s test?”

You groaned. “No. I completely forgot.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you study?”

You blushed. “I was a little busy last night.”

“Busy?” She gave you a look. “Girl.”

“I know! I know.”

“There are more important things in life than fucking your boyfriend!”

“Well, now that’s debatable.”

Robin groaned, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the school. “You’re hopeless, you know that?” She turned back over her shoulder. “Bye, Steve!”

“Oh, can I get a ride home with you and Steve after school?” you asked. “Eddie has the end of his campaign, it’s going to take forever.”

“Yeah, of course. Steve won’t care. He’s like everybody’s chauffeur.”

—

You were home by yourself that night, snacking on popcorn in your pajamas - classic big t-shirt and short shorts combo. When the phone started to ring, you groaned.

“Hello?” you answered, resting the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Baby,” the answer came from the other end, and you smiled, all irritation gone.

“Hey,” you said. “How was the campaign?”

“It was great!” he said enthusiastically. “The guys actually beat it. I can’t believe it. It was awesome.”

“I’m glad you had fun.” You popped another piece of popcorn into your mouth. “What’s up?”

Eddie’s voice dropped an octave. “Wayne left for work and I was just thinking about you…”

You smirked. “Yeah? Thinking about what?”

“Baby…” he said again, and you could practically picture him on his back in bed with the phone, shirtless, rubbing his hard bulge through his jeans. You could hear music playing over his speakers in the background. “Come over. Please.”

You felt a throbbing between your legs as you listened to his low, sultry voice, dripping with desire, all for you. Your hot boyfriend, desperate for you. Wanting nothing more than to be inside of you.

“I’ll be there in 15,” you said. You heard a low chuckle from the other end before you hung up, hurrying upstairs to slip some jeans on and grab your bag. You locked up downstairs, made it look like you were asleep in your room and locked it from inside, and slipped out the window.

The night air brushed your hair back as you rode your bike to Forest Hills. You lived in a pretty nice neighborhood, your parents never approved of you spending so much time in a trailer park. It didn’t matter that you were much happier at Eddie’s than at home.

You rode the downhill momentum to Eddie’s trailer, parking it next to the front door. Eddie opened the door for you before you even reached it, a wide grin on his face. He was shirtless, low jeans exposing the V leading down below that you wanted to see more of.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, stepping back and holding the door wide for you to walk in.

“Hi,” you said. Eddie closed the door behind you. “Wanna go to your room?”

“Not wasting any time, huh, princess?” Eddie asked, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He kissed slowly up your neck, nipping every now and then. You melted back against him, eyes dropping closed as you moaned.

“Did you get condoms?” you asked.

“I did.” He slid the box from his back pocket, holding it up for you between his pointer and middle finger.

“Large instead of extra large?” you teased, looking at the writing on the package.

Eddie shrugged. “They didn’t have any bigger. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Eddie knew he was big, but he didn’t let it go to his head. Well, most of the time. He led you down the hall to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He was kissing you like you were the air he needed to breathe, the only thing keeping him grounded to this reality. His hands roamed your body, sending tingles through your skin. Every now and then you’d break from one another, gasping for air for only a moment before your lips found each other again.

You fell back onto his bed as he tossed the condoms onto his bedside table and he kissed up your body from your ankles back to your lips, tongue exploring your mouth with an eagerness. He undid your jeans and pulled them down your legs, savoring every inch of skin he uncovered, even though he’d just fucked you multiple times last night. Enough didn’t exist for him when it came to you.

His hands slid up your top next, kissing your stomach and your tits as he uncovered them. No bra beneath, which had him groaning. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples, tongue swirling around it as he sucked, moaning against your skin.

“Eddie,” you moaned, back arching slightly off the bed. “Fuck.”

He switched to your other nipple, never one to neglect any part of your perfect body. Eddie’s hand slipped beneath your panties, fingers tracing through your soaking folds.

“So wet for me,” he commented, his voice low as he bit down gently on your skin, earning a gasp. “Love how wet you get for me. Desperate, pretty little thing.”

You could have said something about how he was just as desperate for you with how painfully rock hard he was and that you could feel it even through his jeans, but you couldn’t form words with the way he was slipping a finger inside of you, his thumb playing with your clit, rubbing circles. He slipped in a second finger, pumping them in and out while he pressed down harder on your clit.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you moaned, mind deliriously hazy, grinding your pussy down against him.

He kissed down your body, slipping your panties off and then replacing his thumb with his mouth, his tongue flicking your clit before he pushed his two fingers back in, curling them deep, pressing right against that spot he somehow always knew how to find immediately.

“Eddie!” you cried out, grabbing onto one of his pillows and burying your face in it. Eddie chuckled against you, but didn’t relent. He was determined to have you fall completely apart for him, determined to have you cumming all over his tongue and fingers.

You felt like you were floating above the clouds, Eddie’s sinful tongue taking you straight to heaven. He wrapped his free hand around your thigh, burying himself as deep into your cunt as he possibly could. He was starving for you, and he was completely content if this was how he died.

Your body was filled with liquid heat, the coil tightening in your belly. You pulled on his long hair, earning a groan from Eddie, his fingers pumping faster, lips sucking harder on your sensitive clit.

“Gonna cum, Ed,” you moaned, body writhing on the bed, the pleasure almost too much for you. Your words only made Eddie go harder, rutting his hips against the bed for some friction on his throbbing dick.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!”

You fell apart calling his name over and over again. Half the trailer park had to know what the two of you got up to on a near nightly basis, but at least Wayne wasn’t home. Eddie worked you through your orgasm, moaning as he lapped up everything you gave him, cock twitching at the feeling of you tightening, pulsing around his fingers.

Eddie pulled his fingers out of you, placing one last kiss against your pussy as he moved back to look over your naked body, chest heaving, tits and pussy on full display, skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

“You look beautiful like this,” Eddie said, his own lips and chin wet with the remains of your climax as he smirked down at you. “I can’t wait to get inside you.”

You whimpered at his words as Eddie undid his belt, his eyes locked on yours. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down until his cock sprung free. He shed them from his body, leaving both of you naked.

He kissed all over your body again, sending tingles through your skin. Eddie always liked to take his time with you, liked to savor it. You fucked all the time, but it was never any less sacred to him. You reached between you and grabbed his cock, making him groan. You could feel it throbbing in your hand. He was so needy tonight.

“You ready for me baby?” he asked, reaching for the unopened box of condoms on his table. He ripped open the box, pulling out a foil packet that was smaller than usual.

“Yes,” you whined. “Need you in me.”

Eddie ripped the packet open with his teeth, examining the rubber. He shrugged, starting to roll it onto his cock. He hissed. “Tight fit.”

“You sure it’s gonna be okay…?” you asked, watching Eddie struggle to get the condom over his impressive length.

“Yeah, it’s…I got it,” he grunted, finally getting it all the way on. It technically fit, just not well. “I am not missing out on fucking you tonight.”

“I guess if it works…” You bit the side of your lip, eyeing him.

“Oh, I’m gonna make it work.” He kissed at your neck again, reaching between your bodies to line his tip up at your entrance. He trailed it through your folds, getting himself nice and wet. He pressed against your hole again. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, and then drew in a sharp gasp as Eddie pushed his cock inside.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned. “Fuck, you never get any less tight. Shit, babe.”

And he never got any less huge. As many times as you’d had sex at this point, it never got any less intense. It had actually hurt the first time - at least that went away. You hadn’t been a virgin, but damn.

He set a pace rolling his hips into you deep, fucking you slowly and sensually. Making love to you. He couldn’t stop kissing you everywhere, couldn’t control the way you made him feel like he was going to explode with how much he loved you and how good you made him feel.

“My beautiful girl,” he cooed, big hands holding your thighs up against your chest. He had the perfect view of your pussy taking his cock, he could watch every inch of himself sinking into you. He wished he had a camera - he’d love to have this view to look at whenever he wanted.

“Feels so good, Eds,” you moaned, rolling your hips up as much as you could to meet his thrusts at his pace. Your bodies were working together in perfect synchronicity, a beautiful harmony of bodies and passion and love.

“Can I go faster?” he asked, out of breath from his efforts of keeping himself under control. “Can I fuck you?”

“Please,” you cried. “Please.”

Eddie began snapping his hips into you faster, harder. The sounds of your moans and skin meeting filled the small room, drowning out the soft music over the stereo. His headboard banged into the wall with every thrust, chipping the paint.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he groaned, his head thrown back and eyes closed. You were addicted to watching the way his muscles in his neck and chest flexed, clenched. Like he was holding back.

But god, the feeling of his cock pounding into you mercilessly like this? It was unreal.

He pulled out of you abruptly, but before you could complain about it he was flipping you onto your stomach. He spread your legs slightly and mounted you from behind, slipping back in with ease.

You gasped again at the intrusion, but this angle somehow felt even better. You looked over at the mirror on his dresser, watching as he pounded you from behind, looking down at you like he wanted to devour you whole. You could see his whole body, the way his thighs clenched with every thrust into you, the slightest jiggle of his ass, the way his hands were gripping your ass so tightly it would leave marks.

“Oh, god,” you whined so quiet you didn’t even think he could hear you.

“Doing so good, baby. That’s it,” he grunted. “Just take it, take me, let me fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”

You were falling apart. You felt like you were frantically clinging to the edge of a cliff, the precipice of your undoing. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum again.”

He groaned, fucking you faster. “Yeah, that’s it princess. Let yourself go for me. Wanna feel you cum on this cock.”

You grabbed onto the pillow, biting down onto it as you started to see stars, your eyes rolling back as you came for the second time.

“Ah! Ah!” Eddie was gasping and groaning from behind you, the way your pussy was clenching around him was driving him crazy. “Fuck, ‘m close.”

“Please cum for me,” you begged him. “Please. I need it, need to have it.”

Eddie groaned loudly. “Fuck! Yeah, baby, go on and take it. Take the way I’m fucking you. Take this fucking load. Shit!”

He stilled deep inside you, as deep as he could go. He moaned and moaned into your neck, cock pulsing as he came. “Ah! Fuck, fuckfuckfuck-“

You were both gasping for breath, both completely spent. Eddie didn’t want to move from on top of you - he could have fallen asleep right there. You were in such a dreamy post-sex trance, you might have just let him. Let him sleep with his cock in you.

But he had to move. He pulled out of you, rubbing your back as he did. Then, you felt him freeze behind you.

“Oh shit,” he said, clear panic rising in his voice that only set your own anxiety off. “Uh-“ He was nearly

hyperventilating. “Shit shit shit. Shit! Fuck!”

“What??” you asked, turning and sitting up in the bed, equally panicked just from his reaction.

Eddie held up the condom - the ripped, empty condom.

Your blood went ice cold. “Ed-“

“Fuck, what the fuck are we gonna do?” Eddie asked, in pure panic mode. “What if I got you-“

“That hasn’t happened yet,” you said quickly. “Some people have sex for years without getting pregnant, you know? Just because you…finished inside, doesn’t mean I’m necessarily pregnant.”

Eddie wanted to listen to your voice of reason, but it wasn’t helping. He knew the risks of what had happened. He knew how bad his odds were. You were young, healthy. Teenagers. Still in high school. And with his luck…

“Fuck,” he said, sitting on the edge of his bed. He angrily threw the broken condom into the trash can before covering his face with his hands.

“Baby…” you said, your voice small. “Are you mad?”

“Not at you,” he said, turning and taking your hands. “God, never at you. I’m mad I was such an idiot. I never should have used those condoms. I’m a fucking dumbass.”

You looked at him, sympathetic for how hard he was being on himself. “You didn’t know. It’s okay.” You squeezed his hands. “We’re in this together no matter what, right?”

Eddie was quiet for a minute. “What if I just ruined your life? All because I couldn’t hold off for a day.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re…if I got you…” He looked like he couldn’t even say the word. He turned forward, resting his arms on his legs. “It’s going to ruin your life. You’re so smart, baby, you have so much you can do. My life…well, I’m on my third senior year attempt, so I don’t see college in my future. I’m a drug dealer. I still live with my uncle. I’m going to drag you down.”

“Eddie, that is not true,” you said sternly. “Don’t ever talk bad about yourself like that. You are not dragging me down.”

“Everything I said is a fact,” he said sadly. “You’re…you’re better than me, princess. I would hate myself if I tied you down with a baby right now.”

“Eddie.” You turned his head to look at you. “I don’t feel any of those things. I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And if we…well, we’ll face it together if it happens, yeah?”

Eddie considered your words. Finally he nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Eddie, I love you. More than anything.” You kissed his cheek.

“I love you too, baby girl,” he said, moving to kiss you again. His lips lingered against yours, the kiss lasting longer than intended. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“You’re too good for me, you know that?” he said.

You shook your head. You heard that enough from your parents, you didn’t need him saying it too. “Not true.”

He smiled softly at you, like he didn’t quite believe you. But he didn’t push the matter, taking your hand and kissing each knuckle. “I love you.”

“And we’re in this together,” you said. “We’re in this life together. No matter what.”

A small smile. “No matter what.”

—

Three weeks later, you missed your period.

Every day you checked, looking to see if it had finally come, just late enough to give you the scare of your life and teach you a real lesson. How could we have been so stupid? you’d think, frustrated with yourselves for making an obvious mistake just to fuck each other. We couldn’t stay off each other for one night?

Eddie seemed to have completely forgotten. He didn’t mention it again, didn’t ask about your period (it’s not like he kept track of your cycle anyway), wasn’t stressed at all. You didn’t mention your worry because you didn’t want to bring him into your anxiety spiral with you.

When your period was a week late, you came clean to Robin outside after school.

“What???” she exclaimed, way louder than you would have liked. You shushed her, putting your hand over her mouth. A few classmates in the parking lot turned to look at you, but quickly lost interest. You removed your hand once she got the idea. “You think you might be pregnant?” she whispered.

“I…yeah, I think so,” you said. You couldn’t meet her eyes.

“How could you- oh my god.” She looked like she was freaking out more than you even were. “How did this happen?”

“A condom that was too small?” you explained sheepishly. “It broke.”

She just looked at you, blinking. “Of all the risks to take-“

“I know,” you said.

“Does Eddie know?” she asked, lowering her voice even further.

“That the condom broke?”

“That you’re late,” she said, giving you a look like now isn’t the time for jokes.

You looked down. “No. I think he forgot all about it.”

“He forgot-“ Robin looked like she was about to explode with the lecture brewing in her brain. “We have to get a test. Find out for sure before you scare the shit out of him.”

A test. Your stomach hurt at the thought.

“Will you go with me?”

“Of course,” she said, holding your hand. “We can get Steve to take us to the pharmacy on the way home. Or to my place.”

“Steve?” you said, looking at her like she was crazy. “You want Steve Harrington to take us to get a pregnancy test?”

“He won’t tell anyone,” she said quickly. “He’s trustworthy. I promise.”

Eddie came walking out of the school then, laughing with Jeff and Grant. He saw you and flashed you a big smile, immediately heading in your direction. You and Robin both looked at him with awkward, halfhearted smiles in return.

“Hey, baby,” he said, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Ready to go?”

“Um, actually,” you said, “Robin asked if I wanted to go study at her house.”

“Oh,” Eddie said, surprised. Usually you wouldn’t change plans at the last minute. He looked at you with his brows furrowed, but didn’t question you further. “Okay, that’s cool. I’ll call you tonight?”

“Okay.” You forced yourself to give the most convincing smile you could. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips before he twirled his keys around his finger once and nodded at Robin. “See you later, ladies.”

You watched him get in his van and leave before you and Robin met Steve at his car.

“About time,” he said to Robin. “I’ve been waiting here forever.”

“We have an emergency,” Robin said immediately once everyone was in the car, you in the back seat.

Steve froze. “What kind of emergency?”

“A pregnancy emergency.”

Steve looked at Robin like she had grown a second head. “Robin, you’re a lesbian.”

“Not me, dingus!” Robin said, slapping him lightly on the arm. “Her!”

“Oh,” he said. He turned around and looked at you, then his eyes went wide. “With Eddie?”

You blushed, unsure what to say, but Robin smacked him on the arm again. “Don’t be rude!”

“Ow,” he mumbled. He started the car and pulled out of the Hawkins High parking lot. “So, you want me to…?”

“Take us to the pharmacy to get a test,” Robin said.

Steve nodded. It was obvious he felt extremely awkward. “Okay. Got it.”

He drove the three of you to the pharmacy, where he waited in the car while you and Robin went inside. You felt embarrassed, like every person in the store could look at you and tell what you were there for.

“I think they’re back here,” Robin mumbled, looking through the aisles. Sure enough, you found the pregnancy tests in the back with the condoms and tampons.

“Um…I guess just this one?” she said, picking up a box that said Clearblue. “Results in 30 minutes.”

30 minutes to find out if your life would be changed forever, you thought. You followed Robin to the checkout counter, where an older lady was working. You and Robin gave your best we are absolutely not dealing with the epidemic of teen pregnancy right now looks - trying to be as nonchalant as possible. The lady looked at you strangely, but said nothing at all.

Back in the car with Steve, you felt like you could breathe again.

“Got the goods?” he asked, starting the car.

“Yes,” Robin announced proudly. “It was relatively painless.”

“For you,” you mumbled.

Steve drove back to Robin’s with nothing but the sound of the radio playing. The atmosphere was heavy, or maybe you were just imagining that with how scared you were, how much you were dreading what was to come.

When Steve pulled up outside of Robin’s house, he looked at the two of you awkwardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you in the morning,” Robin said. She climbed out and you followed suit, walking up to the house with the pharmacy bag clutched in Robin’s fist. Steve called out “Good luck!” through the window.

Her parents weren’t home, which you were grateful for. You didn’t want to have to explain anything, like what you’d bought, or, later, why you were having a mental breakdown.

Robin took the test out of the bag, you looking at the box over her shoulder. She opened it and pulled out a piece of paper. The two of you read the instructions in silence.

“So, it looks like you just, uh, collect the sample, then put it in these little pots, and if it’s blue, you’re pregnant.”

You nodded. “Seems simple enough.”

“I think we got it.” Robin handed the box to you. “Good luck, girl.”

“Thanks.” You gave her a look before you took the stuff out of the box. You went in the bathroom, and took the test.

Once it was in progress, you and Robin sat on her bed. “30 minutes,” you reminded her.

Silence.

“Are you nervous?” Robin asked. “No, sorry, that was a stupid question. Are you scared out of your mind?”

“Yes,” you answered easily. “Fucking terrified.”

Robin took a deep breath, as if she was the one who’s life was on the line. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise. Either way, you’re a smart girl. You’re gonna figure this out.”

You weren’t so sure. If you were so smart, why were you sitting here in this situation right now? You’d think you would have known better than to use that fucking condom. “Eddie is going to lose it.”

“If it’s positive,” Robin said. “This could be nothing. Just a lesson learned.”

That’s what you hoped, but you weren’t sure you’d be so lucky. After an excruciating wait, the timer went off on Robin’s watch. She turned it off, then looked at you. “The moment of truth.”

You took a deep breath. You were pretty sure you were about to throw up all over Robin’s beige carpet. You walked into the bathroom, acting like you were in a haunted house and someone was about to jump from around the corner and scare the shit out of you.

You reached the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror before you allowed yourself to look down. You looked scared. You just knew Eddie knew something was up, if you looked like this you weren’t hiding shit. You thought this might be the last time you saw yourself this way, as just a teenage girl with a normal life.

You looked down.

Blue.

Your heart stopped in your chest. Hot tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t know what to do - that was the first thought in your head. I don’t know what to do.

“Are you okay?” Robin asked from outside the room. “Do you want me to come in there?”

You stepped out, hands shaking where you were playing with your ring. Robin looked at you with worry written all over her features. “What’s the verdict?”

“You’re going to be an auntie,” you said. As soon as the words were out of your mouth, the walls caved in. You couldn’t breathe. You felt like the walls were pressing in all around you, trapping you, stealing your oxygen.

“Oh, jeez,” Robin said, rushing over to you. “Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe. Just breathe with me.” She started taking long, slow breaths, trying to guide you, but you weren’t hearing any of it. You couldn’t hear her over the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears, your heart racing, knees going weak as you collapsed onto the floor.

“Shit!” Robin dropped to her knees next to you, pushing your hair out of your face, lightly tapping your cheek. “Hey, look. Listen. I need you to breathe with me, okay? I need you to breathe. Jesus, you’re seriously having a panic attack.”

All you could think of was Eddie, of the future. Would Eddie leave you? He said you were in this together if the worst happened, but what if he hadn’t meant that? What if he only meant it when it wasn’t really happening? People never really know what they’re going to do in a situation until it happens to them. He was young. He wanted to be a rockstar.

You were sobbing, the kind of ugly sobs where you were gasping for air, desperate to draw something into your lungs but finding nothing. You didn’t think you’d ever cried so hard in your life. Not even when Jason Carver broke your heart in 7th grade.

Robin muttered your name. “You’re scaring me. Please calm down, babe, it’s…you’re going to be okay.”

You did your best to breathe along with her, and eventually you were drawing in shaking breaths, laying on her chest and soaking her shirt with your tears. She just stroked your hair, patiently letting you calm down. When the numbness kicked in, the tears stopped and you merely sniffled, wiping at your eyes.

“Do you want me to call Eddie to come take you home?” she asked softly.

You nodded. “Can you?” you croaked, your voice hoarse.

“Of course. Do you know his number by heart?”

You nodded. You dialed the number for her and she held the phone to her ear. It rang a couple times, and you wondered if he might not answer and what you’d do then. But finally you heard the timbre of his voice through the phone.

“Hey, Eddie,” Robin said. “Can- yes, she’s here. She’s- she’s fine. Yes she’s fine. Just feeling a little sick. Can you come bring her home? Yeah. Okay. Bye.” Robin hung up the phone and turned to you with a reassuring smile. “He’s on his way.”

Eddie, who drove like a maniac on a normal day, arrived at Robin’s minutes later. You went downstairs, and Robin stopped you right before you got to the front door.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said, pulling you into a hug.

“Should I…am I supposed to tell him now?” you asked, your voice weak.

“Maybe you should,” she said. “Just get it over with. Rip the bandaid off.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

“You got this,” she said. “I promise.”

You left the house, walking down to the street where Eddie’s van was idling. You could hear his music playing from outside. You opened the passenger door and climbed in.

“Jesus,” Eddie said when he saw you, eyes still swollen and red, looking like hell. He quickly turned the music down. “Shit, baby, what happened?”

You let out another big breath. How were you supposed to do this? Just say it? Rock his world like that with just two words? Two little words to change his life forever. And he didn’t even know it. He had no idea what was coming to him.

“You can start driving,” you told him instead of explaining anything at all.

He looked at you with worry. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes soft. “Baby. What’s going on?”

You fought the tears back. You were not going to cry again. One slipped out and you wiped it away.

“Are you crying?” he asked. “Babe, you’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’ll talk while you drive,” you said.

He just looked at you. “Okay. Mine or yours?”

“I have to go home. My mom is cooking lasagna.” You dreaded seeing your parents, especially tonight. You weren’t telling them now, that was for sure. They were going to lose their minds.

“Okay.” He pulled away from the curb, beginning the short drive to your house. “Now talk.”

You twisted your ring around your finger - your main nervous habit. Eddie clocked it immediately.

“Is it bad?”

Was it? Yes. And no. It was both, you supposed. You didn’t really know how to answer that question right now.

“I took a test.”

Eddie looked over at you, confused. “A test? What kind of test? Not your SAT? That wasn’t supposed to be until next month.”

Something about the fact that he remembered when your SAT test was taking place warmed your heart. Sure you had talked about it, how nervous you were and how much work you were putting into studying for it, but you never thought he’d remember the actual date. Those worries felt miles away now, trivial.

“No.”

“Then what kind of test?” he asked. “Did you get a bad grade? Because baby, it’s really not the end of the world, you’re so smart-“

“Do you remember the broken condom?”

Silence. Complete, heavy silence, like a blanket over you both.

“Yes,” he finally said.

Deep breath. “Eddie-“

“Are you pregnant?” You could see his knuckles turning white around the steering wheel. His arms were shaking slightly.

“Me and Robin got a test. We took it and…it was positive.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered. “You’re sure?”

“I think so.”

Eddie had reached your house. He killed the engine in the driveway behind your parents’ cars. The reminder of your parents sent the nausea rolling through your stomach again. He didn’t look at you. He chewed on his thumb nail as he looked out the window.

Minutes went by without a word spoken. It scared you. What was he thinking? Was he going to leave you?

“Can you say something?” you asked when you couldn’t take it anymore. “Please.”

He looked at you. His eyes were swimming with a million thoughts. You wanted to reach inside his mind and see what was happening.

“So…you’re pregnant,” he said, a mixture between a statement and a question.

“Yes. At least, that’s what the test said.”

“Is there a possibility that you’re not?” he asked, the hope in his voice making your chest ache.

“The test said it was 99% accurate.”

His eyes closed. He blew out a big breath, then rubbed his hands over his face. He looked like he was trying to erase the nightmare. You didn’t really blame him, but there was no running.

He didn’t say anything for a while. He was looking down, like he was completely lost in his thoughts. “So you’re pregnant,” he said again.

Your turn to pause. “Yes. I guess so.”

“I thought…” He cleared his throat. “I thought we were in the clear. You didn’t say anything for weeks-“

“My period was late, but I didn’t want to scare you,” you mumbled.

“You should have told me,” he said. He still wasn’t looking at you, and that was starting to scare you.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I was just…I was scared. I didn’t want you to be scared, too.”

It was silent. The seconds ticked on like hours as you waited for him to respond, to say anything. Every second that passed increased your anxiety, increased the fear that you’d end up doing this alone. Eddie was going to leave you.

Eddie was spiraling. How could this happen? Well, he knew the answer to that. But what shitty luck, right? What did this mean? It meant everything. It meant his earth was turning on its axis, time was changing, he would be changing. What does our future look like? Eddie didn’t have any fucking money. He had a little from his dealing, but - fuck, he couldn’t be a drug dealer and a dad. But he’d have to do something. He’d have to start bringing in money immediately. Paying for your appointments, for the baby supplies. Then paying to survive, bills and food and a whole human baby who would need diapers and wipes and all kinds of stuff. What will this do to our relationship? What if you broke up? What if he became a single dad, seeing his kid every other weekend, paying child support, forever having to watch you with another man? And most of all - what if he wasn’t cut out to be a dad? He didn’t exactly have the best example growing up.

“Eddie, when it happened, we said we’d do it together, right?” you reminded him. “Don’t do this. Don’t get upset and push me away. Not now.”

Eddie didn’t say anything. He still wouldn’t look at you. “I think I just…need to process this.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, worried. Your stomach felt like it was in knots, your chest tight again. You didn’t know what you’d do if Eddie left you. Your parents would probably be kicking you out, and you’d be homeless. Homeless and a single mom.

“I just need to think about things, okay?” he said. “I…need to be alone. To think.”

You looked at him. You willed him to turn and look at you, to tell you everything was going to be okay, that he still loved you and was going to be here for you. But he didn’t do or say any of those things. Your heart sunk to your toes.

“Okay, Eddie,” you finally said. You waited to see if he’d say anything else, but he didn’t. No goodbye, no I love you as you got out of the van and walked to your front door. You heard him driving away as you opened the door and walked inside.

The smell of the lasagna was overpowering as you walked in, and with your sensitive pregnancy sense of smell, you almost threw up on your mom’s fancy carpet.

“It’s about time you got home,” your mom said as you walked into the kitchen. She was setting the table, your dad already seated. “We were just about to eat without you.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, dropping your bag by the wall and taking your usual seat.

“Don’t do that,” your dad snapped.

“Do what?” You were genuinely confused, but you really weren’t in the mood to deal with your parents any more than you had to tonight.

“Mumble,” he said. “It’s rude.”

“Sorry,” you said again, clearer this time.

“You weren’t with that loser boyfriend of yours, were you?” your dad asked with a snort. Your mom smiled lightly to herself - you knew she agreed.

“Eddie is not a loser,” you said, knowing it was a mistake.

“Don’t get an attitude with me,” he said. “The boy is a mess. He’s dumb as rocks, repeating his senior year for the third time. He’s always in trouble with the police. I think the boy does drugs. He’s dragging you down, and you refuse to see that.”

You were seething, thinking about stabbing your fork right in his stupid smug face. “That’s not true.”

“Honey, it is,” your mom said. “You could do so much better. I really think you should-“

“Mom, I’m not breaking up with Eddie,” you said, looking down as you poked at your food. Although, you thought to yourself, he might just do it for me anyway.

“You don’t talk to your mother like that,” your dad said, beginning to raise his voice. You could feel a headache coming on. Actually - you could feel more than that. Nausea rose in your stomach quickly and you jumped up from the table, nearly knocking your chair over in the process, and ran to the downstairs bathroom. You fell to your knees and emptied your stomach, trying to hold your hair back and not make a mess.

When you were finally done, you cleaned up and walked back to the kitchen. “I don’t feel good,” you said. “I’m going to go lay down. Thank you for dinner.”

You turned and left, hearing your dad yell from behind you.

“You better not be pregnant!”

—

After he dropped you off, Eddie drove around for a while. He wasn’t going anywhere specific, didn’t have anywhere he wanted to be. He just needed to think.

He thought about every scenario, every possibility. The good, which made his chest feel warm, made him want to turn the car around and apologize and tell you he can’t wait to do this with you - and the bad, which stopped him. He ended up back at his trailer, Wayne already gone for the night.

He didn’t know what to do. This was life shattering. He didn’t want to ruin your life any more than he wanted to ruin his own. He knew it was a long shot, but he wanted to be successful with his music one day. He was going to be letting the whole band down.

Eddie picked up the phone. He just held it for a while, debating. Wondering if he really wanted to do this. He dialed the number he had memorized.

The recording asked him for the inmate number - he had that memorized, too. He punched it in, waiting. After a number of rings, the phone was picked up.

“Hello?” the gruff voice came from the other end of the line.

“Dad,” Eddie said, his voice broken.

“Well, I’ll be,” Al Munson said, a laugh in his voice. “If it isn’t my boy. What brings you to call your dear old dad tonight?”

Eddie sighed. “I just…something’s happened. I didn’t know who to go to.”

“Oh yeah?” Al sounded amused, like this was entertaining to him. “And what’s that?”

Eddie let out another deep breath. “I got my girlfriend pregnant.”

It was silent for a minute. Then, Al laughed. “Well damn, boy.”

Eddie felt sick to his stomach. This wasn’t going how he hoped. He didn’t know what he had been hoping for, but it wasn’t this. He regretted picking up the phone. “Yeah.”

“Well, isn’t that just fuckin’ great!” Al said. “I’m gonna be a granddaddy. Well, Ed, while you were stickin’ your dick in anything that moves, I’m over here working hard, day and night, for nothin’. You better be grateful for what you have, boy, and get that girl an abortion. This is going to ruin both of y’all’s lives. Put an end to it now while you can.”

That little rant was the last thing Eddie had expected to hear from his father. He felt like his head was spinning, his chest tightening. “Dad, I- I’m not gonna ask her to get an abortion.”

“Why the hell not?” Al laughed. “Believe me, son, you’re gonna regret this. You’re gonna regret throwing your life away. You got that little band, don’t you? Don’t you want to try to make it big?”

It sounded mocking when he said it, but it was true for Eddie. He did have those dreams, as childish and far fetched as they may be. And he knew you wanted to go to a good college, wanted to make something of yourself.

“She’s my priority,” Eddie said. “If she wants this baby, I’ll have this baby with her.”

“Son, you’re a fool,” Al said.

Eddie clenched his fist. He had the sudden urge to punch a wall. “I love her.”

Al laughed, hard. “Like I said. A fool.”

Eddie hung up the phone, slamming it down onto the receiver. He was seething, taking deep breaths, his hands shaking where they were still clenched tightly. The phone call with his dad had only served to make him even more upset, now angry, at his dad, at himself, at the situation.

He didn’t know why he had called his dad in the first place. His dad had never been dad of the year. He hadn’t even seen him in person for 7 years, not since he went to prison. And before then, before Wayne, he was neglectful. Eddie cringed as he remembered Wayne shaving his head the day he moved in, his curls in mats.

His dad had never been a father. The only things he ever taught him were how to hotwire a car, how to be a good liar, how to steal without getting caught, how to deal without getting caught. His dad knew all about dealing - more than weed.

He remembered his mother. The little pieces he still had of her, at least. It made his chest feel warm, thinking of how she had loved him, how caring and kind she had been. He had no idea how she ever ended up with Al Munson. She was an angel.

Eddie knew you would be just as good of a mother as his own mom had been. He knew you’d be the best mother ever. He didn’t worry for a second about how his kid would turn out when it came to you.

But what about him? He already passed on his genes, isn’t that enough damage? Maybe he should take himself out of the equation. Run. Get away from this kid before he has the chance to fuck them up. Because surely that’s what will happen - he’ll damage them beyond repair, make them into as big of a fuckup as he is.

But no. He can’t just abandon you like that. As much as he knows this kid would be better off without him, he knew you wouldn’t. He couldn’t leave you to raise a child alone. Especially not with your shitty parents - god, how would they react to this? Not well, that was for damn sure. You wouldn’t have their support and he knew it.

There was really only one thing for him to do.

—

You cried your eyes out that night. Your pillow was soaked with tears, your eyes still red and puffy from earlier, now worse. You wondered if you could get by with missing school - your parents had heard you getting sick. But what if they made you go to the doctor? Fuck.

You woke up the next morning with your face practically stuck to your pillow. You wiped the dried tears away. You went into your bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror - you looked like hell. Your lower lip trembled, and you just knew it was going to start up again, but you were able to hold it back.

You splashed cold water on your face, helping to soothe your flushed skin. Then you turned the shower on, undressing and stepping into the hot water. It relaxed you immediately, the water beating down on your shoulders and easing the ache in your bones. You didn’t know sadness could make you so physically miserable. Or maybe it was the pregnancy. Maybe both.

When you were done with your shower, you dried yourself off, then started on your hair and makeup. You dressed like you felt, in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. Your parents had already left for work. You bounded downstairs, nausea still plaguing you.

You grabbed a granola bar from the pantry and forced yourself to eat it. You weren’t even sure how you were getting to school - was Eddie coming? Should you call Robin and Steve?

You were just considering picking up the phone when you heard a car horn honking from out front. You peered through the kitchen window, seeing Eddie’s van.

Your stomach clenched in knots. Was he here to break up with you? To tell you he wasn’t going to do this?

You grabbed your bag and walked out of the house, locking the front door behind you. You stuffed your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walked to the van. He reached across the seats and opened the door for you when you reached it.

You looked at him cautiously as you climbed in. You were trying to read his face, to prepare yourself for what was to come. He was unreadable, though. That was rare for Eddie - usually you could read him like a book.

He started the car and pulled out of your driveway. It was a few miserable, tense minutes before he finally said something.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I scared you last night. I just needed to think.” He reached over and took your hand in his right one, driving only with his left. “I promise I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to do this alone.”

Tears brewed in your eyes, but this time they weren’t necessarily sad ones. “I was scared.”

“I know, baby,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” A pause. “I’m scared, too.”

“Where did you go?” you asked.

“I just drove around,” he answered honestly. “Went home and, uh…called my old man.”

Your eyes went wide. “How did that go?”

Eddie scoffed. “As well as you’d imagine.”

You softened. “Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

He waved you off, like the conversation wasn’t still eating him up inside. “It just…made me realize that I never want to be like my dad. I never want to make my kid feel the way he makes me feel.”

“You would never, Eddie,” you said softly. “You’re nothing like your dad.”

He shook his head. “I’m not so sure. I feel like a chip off the ol’ block.”

“You’re nothing like your dad,” you said again, firmer this time. There wasn’t a single thing you saw in common between Eddie and Al Munson. You’d never had the displeasure of meeting him, but you had heard plenty.

Eddie gave you a sad smile before turning back to the road. “Well, it means a lot that you think so.”

“I know so.”

It was quiet for a minute. A less tense quiet than it had been minutes ago. “I just…I’m sorry for running out on you like that,” Eddie said. “We’re partners, right? Always will be. In everything. Especially this.”

His words made you feel better. You had longed for him to come back and do this, to tell you he didn’t mean to act that way and that he loved you and this baby. That wasn’t exactly how it happened, but it was close enough.

“I love you,” Eddie continued. “I would never abandon you, I fucking swear that.”

You squeezed his hand. “I love you too, Eds.”

Another minute of quiet. The gears were turning in Eddie’s head, his mind still spinning even as he drove the familiar path to school on autopilot. “But we need to talk about it.”

“About what?”

“The baby,” he said, the first time either of you were saying the words. “We need to talk about what we’re gonna do. And how we’re gonna do it.”

“Can we go to your place after school?” you asked, playing with the strings on your hoodie.

“Sure, baby.” He squeezed your hand, a silent promise that everything was going to be okay.

When Robin saw you in the parking lot, she sped over to Eddie’s van, throwing her arms around you in a hug as you stepped out. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” you said sarcastically. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“No.” You mustered up a smile. “But you don’t have to worry about me. Seriously.”

“Um, you had a full on panic attack on my bedroom floor yesterday after getting life shattering news. Of course I’m worried about you.”

You were grateful to have a friend that was so supportive and caring, but you couldn’t handle the attention right now. You already felt like you were drowning in worries. “I promise I’m okay, Robs.”

She looked at you skeptically, but accepted it. “Okay. If you say so. But tell me if you’re not, okay? I’m here with you. Always.”

You felt bad for pushing her away. Robin cared about you more than most people in your life. The least you could do was let her.

The school day passed uneventfully. Part of you had been worried that the news was written on your forehead and everyone would know. You just knew someone would be able to tell, then the whole school would know and you’d be even more of a pariah than you were for being The Freak’s girlfriend.

You were still relieved to climb into Eddie’s van at the end of the day. You always felt safe with him - being alone with Eddie was like coming home. He drove the two of you back to the trailer. Wayne was still home when you arrived.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted you when the two of you walked inside. He was dressed for work at the plant, drinking a cup of coffee with his lunchbox sitting on the counter next to him.

“Hey, Wayne,” you said with a genuine smile.

“Oh, hey, Eddie. How was your day? It was fine, thanks. How was yours?” Eddie said, pretending to be upset at being ignored.

“How was that math test?” Wayne asked him with a raised eyebrow.

Eddie paled. “We’re going to my room. See ya, Wayne!” He quickly ushered you into his bedroom while you laughed.

“How was the math test?” you spun and asked him once you were alone in his room.

“God, I don’t even want to think about it,” Eddie muttered. “I already know I failed.”

Your chest ached. “I told you I’d study with you.”

“Yeah, well…” Eddie said, “I had a lot on my mind today anyway.”

You knew the feeling. You’d barely been able to pay attention in class today. You knew this discussion was coming, and you didn’t know how it was going to go.

Eddie flopped back on his bed, and you took a seat next to him. He rubbed your back gently.

“You wanted to talk?” you reminded him, the nerves creeping up on you. What if this wasn’t a good talk?

“I just…” Eddie sighed. “How are we going to do this?”

You didn’t know. You hadn’t really had the chance to think that far ahead. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah…exactly.” Eddie ran a hand through his hair, tangled from how much he’d been messing with it today. “Are you sure you don’t want to…?”

“To what?” you asked. “Get an abortion?”

“Yeah.”

You thought. “I just don’t think I can, Eddie.”

Eddie continued rubbing your back. “I understand, baby. It’s okay. It was just an option.”

Not that there was anything wrong with getting an abortion - it just didn’t feel right for you. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not upset.” If Eddie was being honest with himself, he wished you would get the abortion. He felt that was the best choice for you both, the easiest choice. The idea of the two of you keeping this baby scared him shitless. But he’d never make you do something you didn’t want to do with your own body.

“So…” Eddie began awkwardly. “How will we make money? To support us and the baby?”

“I don’t know,” you said quietly.

“Okay. Where will we live?”

“I don’t know.”

“Baby.” Eddie stopped rubbing your back, looking at you seriously. “We really have to figure this shit out.”

“I don’t know!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms up. “I really don’t. I don’t know what the fuck we’re going to do. I really wanted to graduate. I wanted to go to college.”

It was quiet. “Baby, I don’t think you’re gonna be able to go to college.”

Your chest ached. You could feel your future slipping from your grasp, the future you’d been building your entire life. The one you’d put so much effort into bringing to fruition in your high school years. It was falling away before your eyes.

“I…I’m gonna drop out,” Eddie said.

“What??” your head snapped in his direction. “Eddie, no.”

“Baby, I…” he scoffed, “I had my chances. If one of us has to drop out to start working so we can save up, it has to be me.”

Tears welled in your eyes. You felt like you’d done so much crying lately. “You’ve been working so hard this year. You’re so close.”

“It has to happen, princess,” he said gently, pushing your hair out of your face. “I have to take care of my family now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the couple of tears escaping, sliding down your cheeks. You felt horrible. You felt like you were ruining Eddie’s life. “Where are you gonna work?”

“I don’t know. Whatever I can get. Melvald’s, maybe. Restaurant. Anything.”

“Is stuff like that going to take care of all three of us, though?” you asked, the worry eating at you.

“It’s better than nothing, baby. I can keep looking. I just need to start saving money now.”

“Can I still finish school?”

“If you feel up to it,” Eddie said. “But, yeah. I don’t want to make you drop out, too. Maybe you could even go to college in a few years, when the baby is older.”

You smiled at that. “You think?”

“Maybe,” he smiled back. He laid on his back, hands crossed behind his head on his pillow. He looked lost in thought. “I think you should stay home with the baby until they’re older.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. People scare me. I want to know they’re safe.”

You felt the same. There was nowhere safer for your baby than with you, right? Not that you knew all that much about taking care of babies right now. It’s not like you had any siblings or even little cousins. “I agree.”

“Good.”

You laid down on the bed next to Eddie, curling up into his side. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you close. “How are we gonna tell Wayne and your parents?” he asked.

You let out a long breath. “That’s going to go over horribly with my parents.”

“I know.” He thought for a minute. “I…have no idea how Wayne’s going to react. He’s probably going to be disappointed in me. Which feels pretty bad.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, because he was probably right. And you couldn’t even blame Wayne. You guys had fucked up. And now your lives were forever changed.

“The guys are going to freak,” he said with a sigh.

You hadn’t even thought of the band, or the Hellfire club. How would they react? They were counting on Eddie to help make the band’s dream a reality. Eddie was the guitarist, the lead singer. How was he supposed to do that with a baby?

“I’m sorry your life is ruined,” you muttered, the guilt weighing on your chest.

“It’s not, baby,” he said. “And neither is yours.”

—

You had known about the baby for a couple of days. You were dressing for school, wearing a pair of jeans and a band shirt with a sweater. Eddie was driving you to school like he did every day.

You practically ran down the steps to meet him outside when you heard him pull up, but your mom stopped you right before you got out the front door.

“You need to stop hanging out with that boy,” she said, looking you in the eyes in a way that made you uncomfortable.

“Mom, no,” you said. “I’m not breaking up with Eddie.”

“You need to think about your future,” she said. “That boy is going to ruin your future. Whether you end up pregnant, or on drugs, or living on the streets. You’re going to be 22 years old with three kids and that boy in prison just like his father.”

You weren’t sure if you were about to cry or scream in her face. “You know nothing about Eddie.”

“I know enough.”

You pushed past her, walking to Eddie’s van with your fists clenched. You climbed in, slamming the door.

“Woah, baby mama, what’s wrong?” he asked, beginning to drive away.

“Just my mom,” you muttered.

“Being herself, I assume,” Eddie said with clear distaste.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t listen to her,” he said. “You know she’s full of shit.”

But her words lingered in your head anyway, plaguing you the way only she could. What if Eddie did get in trouble for dealing and go to jail? It wasn’t impossible. And you were pregnant. God, you were going to have to tell her so, too.

You were distracted all through the school day, but tried your best to focus in class. You were standing up from your desk in english when Tina stopped you, her nose scrunched up like something was disgusting.

“Think you got your period,” she said, snarky as always.

You froze. “W-what?” you asked, looking at her.

“Your period?” she said. “Seems kinda heavy. Might want to go to the nurse’s office.”

She walked off, but you paid no mind to her. You looked down at your seat - and saw it covered in blood. You gasped, covering your mouth in horror - the tears started and you felt your heart shatter in your chest. No. No no no no no no.

You tied your hoodie around your waist and ran out of the room straight to Eddie’s locker, where you nearly crashed into him.

“Woah, babe, what’s going on?” he asked, steadying you by the shoulders. His eyes were swimming with concern.

“We have to go to the ER,” you cried. “Now.”

“Jesus- what’s going on?” Eddie asked.

You leaned in close. “Eddie, I- I think I’m having a miscarriage.”

His eyes went wide. “No. You’re not.”

“We have to go,” you said, taking his hand and walking off. You were acutely aware of the blood all over the back of your jeans, how you were probably still bleeding. What if you were losing the baby right now?

You felt on the verge of hyperventilating. Eddie ran to the van, opening the door for you and laying a towel down in the seat. “Shit, baby,” he cursed as he helped you climb in and saw the blood. His voice cracked, like he was about to start crying, too.

He drove you to the ER as fast as he could without getting pulled over. He had weed in his pocket, and in the back - he didn’t need that. He pulled up to the ER in record time, finding a spot and nearly carrying you into the hospital.

“I think my girlfriend might be having a miscarriage,” he blurted out to the receptionist, who looked up at him like he was stupid.

“What’s your name?” she asked you.

You gave her your name and info.

“How far along are you?”

“I…don’t know,” you admitted. “We just found out.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re pregnant and this isn’t just your period?”

Eddie wished that were true. What a relief that would be, he thought. But if there really was a baby in there - he didn’t want to take any chances. He wasn’t going to lose it.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you said, getting irritated with this lady.

They brought you back to get your vitals, finding your blood pressure high. “Probably from the stress,” the nurse said, but they brought you straight back anyway, having you change into a gown.

A tech came in shortly after. “I need to take you for an ultrasound,” she said, much more kindly than the woman at the front desk.

“Can he come with me?” you asked, holding onto Eddie’s hand tightly.

“I’m afraid not,” she said, looking like she genuinely felt bad. “But we’ll only be gone for a few minutes.”

You followed her down the hall and to a room with an ultrasound machine. “Lay on the table with your legs up there, and scoot all the way down.”

You froze. “I thought ultrasounds were on your stomach?”

“Not this early,” she said apologetically. “It’s just a little uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt.”

You laid on the table, feeling incredibly exposed. She began the ultrasound, the screen turned away from you. She kept pressing buttons and writing things down.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, your stomach aching from anxiety. “Can I see?”

“I can’t show you or tell you anything,” she said, “we have to wait for the doctor. I’m sorry.”

You laid there, staring at the ceiling. You pretended you were anywhere else, doing anything else. You imagined you were at Eddie’s, laying on his bed while he played you a new song on his guitar. “I wrote this one for you, baby,” he’d always say.

She finished up and you were glad to put your legs back together. You followed her back to the room, where Eddie was waiting, bouncing his leg nervously. When you walked in he stood up, rushing over to you. He grabbed your arms. “Is the baby okay?”

“I don’t know yet,” you said. “She couldn’t tell me anything. We have to wait for the doctor.”

“That’s fuckin’ stupid,” Eddie said. “Why couldn’t she just say ‘yes, everything’s okay? You can stop worrying about the fate of your child’?”

Your child. Eddie caring about the fate of your baby so much made you feel a little better. You just hoped it wasn’t about to be ripped away from you like this.

You got back in the bed and the two of you waited nervously. It was maybe 30 miserable minutes later that the doctor walked in, introducing himself.

“How’s the baby?” Eddie asked as soon as the doctor stopped talking.

He pulled out some images, holding them out to show you. Eddie leaned over your shoulder to look at them. You couldn’t exactly make any sense of them - it was just a black and white image of some blobs.

“This right here,” the doctor said, pointing to one of the blobs. “Is called a subchorionic hematoma. It’s a collection of blood in your uterus. Most resolve themselves and are nothing to worry about, although the bleeding can be scary.”

Can be? You were just now breathing like normal again.

“So everything’s okay?” Eddie asked, wanting to get to the point as soon as possible.

“Yes, everything’s okay,” the doctor said, and you and Eddie collectively let out a breath. “The babies are perfectly fine.”

You felt relieved. Everything was okay. You turned to Eddie, but found him white as a ghost, staring wide eyed at the doctor.

“Did you say babies?”

You froze. Did he? You slowly turned to the doctor.

“Yes. You’re about 7 weeks along with twins.”

The ground fell out from under your feet. Your head spun, your blood felt like ice -

Eddie hit the ground.

—

Eddie woke a minute later, having been propped up in a chair by your bed. The nurses checked him over, but they knew he was fine. The doctor let you know you could leave, and you and Eddie were left alone.

“Fuckin’ - twins,” he breathed. “Two babies. Jesus.”

You couldn’t believe it either. If you had been scared before, now you were twice as scared. How were you going to afford two babies? How were you going to take care of two babies alone?

Eddie walked back out to the van with his hand protectively on your lower back, staying close. He helped you get in and closed the door for you.

“I don’t want to go home,” you admitted. “I just want to go to your place.”

Eddie smiled softly at you. “My house is your home, sweetheart. But yeah, of course.”

You leaned your head against the seat and watched out the window the whole drive to Eddie’s. You had been in the ER for so long, the sun was just starting to set. You felt relief that the baby - the babies - were okay. You were relieved you were going home with Eddie. Things were going to be okay.

Eddie pulled up in front of the trailer. Wayne was home - he was off tonight. You knew he wouldn’t question you. “Wait,” Eddie said, and he jumped out of the van and ran around to your side. He opened the door and basically lifted you down.

“I’m not made of porcelain,” you laughed as he sat you on the ground gently.

“To me, you are,” he said.

He led you to the front door, letting you go in first. Wayne was in his chair with a beer, watching TV. He looked up at the two of you when you came in.

“Hey, Wayne,” you greeted him.

“Hey, darlin’. Ed.” Wayne took a sip of his beer, looking at you both with an unreadable expression. Wayne was very closed off, it was impossible to tell what that man was thinking. “Can you two sit down for a minute? I’d like to talk to ya.”

That was strange. You looked at Eddie, who only shrugged back at you. The bleeding had stopped and you’d had the chance to clean up, so you sat down on the couch, Eddie next to you in between you and Wayne.

Wayne turned the TV off. Silence descended over the room, heavy and suffocating.

“Ed,” Wayne said, “your daddy gave me a call.”

Eddie froze. Oh fuck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Wayne took a sip from his beer. “He told me somethin’ you, uh…told him?”

You looked at Eddie, confused as to where this was going. Eddie was sweating, all of a sudden it was way too hot for his jacket. He took it off, tossing it onto the floor.

“You wanna tell me somethin’, Ed?”

Eddie signed. He rubbed his hands over his face, like he was trying to wake up from a bad dream. But he didn’t say anything, and the way he was refusing to answer Wayne was scaring you.

Getting nowhere with Eddie, Wayne turned to you. “Honey, are you pregnant?”

Oh. Eddie had told his dad about the baby - babies, you corrected yourself again. Not that he had known that then. You looked at Eddie, who still looked panicked, but you couldn’t lie to Wayne. “Yes.”

Wayne looked between the two of you sadly. “Oh, kids,” he said, like he could see your fate laid out before you, and it wasn’t a good one.

“It’s twins,” Eddie contributed, looking at his uncle sheepishly. “Just found that out tonight.”

“Twins?” Wayne said, genuinely surprised. “Goddamn, son.” You almost laughed.

“Are you mad?” Eddie asked, scared not of what Wayne would do, but what he would think of him.

“Mad?” Wayne asked. “No. I’m just…worried. What are you gonna do?”

You and Eddie exchanged a look. “I’m going to drop out and get a job to save up some money,” Eddie said.

Wayne’s face fell. “Oh, Ed.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “But I have to. Right? I have to.”

Wayne didn’t say anything, because Eddie was right. There was no way around it that he could think of. He couldn’t afford to support Eddie, you, and a baby - two babies, which everyone kept forgetting and re-remembering. As much as he wanted to help, he didn’t make enough at the plant.

“What you have to do is stop that mess with the drugs,” Wayne said, pointing at Eddie. “Don’t think I don’t know.”

Eddie flushed. “Yeah, I know.”

“You cannot be gettin’ into trouble doin’ that stuff. Not now. I turned a blind eye to it for too long.”

Eddie nodded.

“Okay.” Wayne slapped his knees. “Well. You think you two have got this?”

You and Eddie looked at each other. Did you have it? You’d have to. “I think we’ll be okay,” Eddie said.

“Do your parents know?” Wayne asked you.

“No,” you answered. “We’ve only known for about a week. I’m not exactly excited to tell them.”

“I don’t blame you, sweetheart,” Wayne said. He knew how your parents were. They had met before, they looked down on him and Eddie for their social status, for their income, for living in a trailer park, amongst other things. “But you’ll have to tell them eventually.”

“I know.”

“We’ve got your back,” Eddie said. “If they wanna be assholes about it…”

“Which they will.”

“Yeah.” Eddie pulled you close. “It’s going to be okay.”

Conversation over, you followed Eddie back to his bedroom. He quickly cleaned up his rolling tray, papers, and baggie of weed that were laying on his bed. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I just…smoked a little last night. I’m done now, though.”

You didn’t say anything, watching as he put his stuff away. He sat on the bed and held his arms out for you. You went to him, letting him wrap his arms around you. He laid his head on your stomach.

“I’m so happy you’re okay. All three of you,” he said. “I was so scared.”

“Me too,” you agreed. Eddie laid his forehead on your belly, his thumbs rubbing circles over it. He lifted your shirt up and pressed a kiss to the smooth skin, his lips lingering there. Your heart thudded in your chest at the display of love and affection.

“I love you both,” he said to your belly. “I’m your daddy, and I’m going to take such good care of you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you or your mama.”

Your stomach flipped, and you were pretty sure you’d never felt so in love with Eddie than you did in that moment.

He pulled you down to lay next to him on the bed, cuddled together, legs tangled. His hand rested on your belly, rubbing soft, slow circles until you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

—

The hospital set you up with your first OBGYN appointment. It was a week after the ER visit, and you’d been a nervous wreck. You hadn’t been bleeding any more, but what if you still lost the babies? You were looking forward to going just to hear that everything was okay.

You and Eddie left school early, heading to the doctor just after 5th period. Eddie stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets as you checked in at reception. You found two seats together and sat as you filled out the clipboard of questions.

It asked all kinds of things. The standard doctor’s office questions about you, some awkward questions about your sexual history, and even questions about Eddie - ‘the father’.

“‘How many sexual partners have you had?’” you asked him, reading off the question.

Eddie blushed. “What?”

“It’s asking!”

“About me?”

“Yeah!”

He blushed deeper. “You know the answer to that question.”

You did. You just liked teasing him. “Remind me?”

Eddie gave you a look. “You know you were my first.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled. Eddie nudged your shoulder playfully.

“Asshole.”

You turned in the clipboard when you were done, going back to your seat and waiting to be called. It wasn’t long before a nurse came for you, and you stood.

“Do you, uh, want me to go?” Eddie asked. He was jittery, bouncing his leg like he often did when he was nervous.

“Can you?” You didn’t know why you were nervous to ask him, you knew he would in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, of course.” He stood and followed you, trailing behind as the nurse led you to the back. She recorded your height and weight, blood pressure and temperature. You were taken to a small room with an exam table in the middle and two visitor chairs by the wall. Photos of babies decorated the walls. Eddie looked all around, seeming uncomfortable.

The nurse asked you even more questions. Some typical, some that made you blush. She asked Eddie a bunch of questions about his and his family’s health history. She left, and you and Eddie were alone.

“I didn’t realize they’d need so much information from me,” he said. “I thought this was all you.”

“You are the dad, right?” you teased, laying back on the exam table.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I better be.”

“They’re half you. Of course you matter.”

Eddie hadn’t thought of it that way. The babies were half him. And half you. There was something beautiful about how you’d come together to make something so precious as these two little babies. He placed a hand on your stomach - you had developed the smallest little baby bump - and rubbed it, smiling up at your face. He gave you a little wink.

The tech came in with the ultrasound machine. “How are you guys today?” she asked, setting up the machine. She put the gel on your stomach.

“Nervous,” you admitted. Eddie squeezed your hand.

“Don’t be,” she said. “This is supposed to be the fun part.”

She flipped on the machine and placed the wand on your belly. The image appeared on your screen, and you saw your two little blobs wiggling around in there.

“Congratulations on the twins!” she said. “There’s baby A,” she measured the smaller blob, “and there’s baby B.” The bigger blob was next to the smaller one, like they were cuddled together. Almost like it was protecting the other one.

Tears welled in your eyes at the sight of them - your first real glimpse of your babies. You glanced at Eddie, who was covering his mouth with his hand, staring at the screen with so much love in his eyes.

“And we can’t know if they’re boys or girls yet?” Eddie asked.

“Not yet,” she said. “You’ll find out at the 20 week scan.”

“How many weeks is she now?” he asked.

The tech took some more measurements. “She’s measuring about 8 weeks right now.”

Eddie blew out a rush of air. 8 weeks seemed so early and so long at the same time. “And how many weeks are there in a pregnancy?” he asked, knowing he sounded like an idiot.

“There are 40,” she explained. “But twins often come early, around 35 weeks.”

Eddie paled at that. How was the pregnancy almost a quarter over already?? Nothing was ready. Nothing at all. He still didn’t even have a job, and these babies were coming so soon?

You both watched the screen for the remainder of the ultrasound. She printed you a strip of photos to keep, which you held close to your chest - you would cherish these. Eddie took one to keep in his wallet.

When she left, you cleaned the gel off your stomach. Eddie helped you wipe it up with paper towels.

“That was cool, huh?” you asked, smiling at Eddie as you pulled your shirt back down.

“Very,” he agreed, smiling back at you. “I can’t believe there’s really two in there.” He poked your belly.

“Me either.” You laid back. “Does that mean I’m gonna get like…extra huge?”

“Probably,” Eddie teased. “Beautiful no matter what, though.”

The doctor came in next, introducing herself and congratulating you both. She told you it seemed that the subchorionic hematoma had taken care of itself, so she felt it was nothing to worry about. She went over the do’s and don’ts of pregnancy, told you to start taking a prenatal vitamin, and instructed you to come back in a month.

With your ultrasound photos and appointment card in your hand, you and Eddie left the office. He helped you up into the passenger seat before getting in on his own side. “What do you want to do now, baby?” he asked you.

“I think we should go to the pharmacy for those vitamins,” you said. Your mind was entirely on the babies, wanting them to be as healthy as possible, especially after the miscarriage scare.

“You got it.” He started the van and drove in that direction, his music playing from the speakers.

You went in together when you reached the pharmacy. Eddie walked with his hand on your lower back, as if you might faint without him. You reached the correct section and found the bottles that said prenatal vitamins - you picked up one of the bottles, checking the price.

“Jesus. Why are these so expensive?”

Eddie looked over your shoulder, seeing the $30 price tag. “Shit. I don’t know, baby. But I don’t have enough for that on me.”

“Me either.” You sat the bottle back on the counter. “I guess it’ll be fine until we can afford it.”

Eddie was quiet. He felt like he was failing you and his babies. “I could sell-“

“No, Eddie,” you snapped. You did not want him selling drugs again. “We’ll figure it out. You started applying for jobs, right?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment. “Yeah. Of course I have.”

“Then you should have something soon,” you said, “and we’ll get it then.”

Eddie felt like shit walking out of the pharmacy with you empty handed. He felt like the biggest failure, just as bad of a dad as his own. He had spent some of the last of what he had on some weed - he knew it was wrong and that you had both agreed, but he was so stressed, he needed something. He felt horrible about it now, though.

He drove you back to your house. When he shut off the engine in your driveway behind your parents’ fancy cars, he looked over at you. “Are you sure you want to go in there? You know you can spend the night with me any time.”

“I know,” you said softly, almost like you regretted it immediately. “I’ll be okay. They’ll notice something’s up if I don’t come home at all. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay, baby.” Eddie leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“I know,” you mustered up a smile as he pulled away from your lips. You didn’t really want to leave Eddie, but you at least had to stay until they went to bed. They weren’t completely stupid.

Eddie watched you climb out of the van and walk to your front door. He watched until you were safely inside - only then did he allow himself to start his engine and pull away.

You could tell something was off the second you walked into the house. Your dad sat in his chair looking smug, while your mom paced nervously. Your dad looked pleased to see you when you walked in.

“What’s going on?” you asked cautiously. You weren’t sure if you were prepared for the answer.

“What’s going on,” your dad said, “is that little boyfriend of yours is finally going to get what’s coming to him.”

Your blood froze. “What do you mean?”

“I had a talk with Officer Callahan,” he said. “And he agrees that Eddie needs to be taught a lesson. They have proof he’s been dealing.”

You felt sick to your stomach, like you were two seconds away from getting sick on the floor. “Dad, no. Eddie quit, he doesn’t do anything like that anymore. He’s a good guy, please.”

Your dad looked almost pleased with himself, like he was happy to see you so distraught. “He should have made better choices. Maybe this will set him on the right path.”

“Dad, come on. Don’t do this.”

“You need to grow up. You both need to grow up. You need to find someone who actually deserves you. Someone better.”

You felt like screaming. You felt like throwing something at your father’s face.

“It’s for the best,” your mom finally spoke up. “It will scare him straight, at least.”

Was this your fault? Were you ruining Eddie’s life just by being in it? Your parents were being ridiculous, but that doesn’t mean the police department would see it that way. You couldn’t stand the idea of Eddie getting in serious trouble, especially not with babies on the way.

You ran upstairs, picking up the phone on your bedside table. You dialed Eddie’s number, hoping he’d had the chance to get back home by now.

“Hello?” he answered, sounding confused.

“Baby,” you said. “My dad did something really fucking stupid.”

Quiet. Then, “What?”

“He said the police are after you for dealing,” you cried. “He said you’re going to get in trouble.”

“Shit,” Eddie hissed. “Your dad’s a real piece of work, huh?”

“I’m scared,” you admitted. “Really scared.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said. He was always so calming to you, even over the phone where you couldn’t see his face or soak in the warmth of his arms. “But it’s going to be okay. I haven’t even been dealing lately. They’ve got nothing on me.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffled.

“I’m sure. Your dad’s just trying to scare us. He’s just a dick.”

You laughed, wiping at the tears on your face. “Yeah. He is.”

“Believe me, baby. We’re going to be okay.” You knew if Eddie were here he’d be brushing your hair behind your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You wished he was.

“Okay.” You trusted Eddie wholeheartedly, and if he said there was nothing to worry about, you were going to try to listen to him.

“I need you to get some rest, okay baby?” he said. “For yourself and for those little babies.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, babe.”

—

Eddie’s last day of school was nearing. He had put in his request to drop out, and had been putting in job applications all over. He was stressed, that was clear, and you felt bad, like it was all your fault.

The Hellfire Club didn’t know it was their last typical Hellfire meeting. Eddie walked in and the guys all looked up from where they’d been sitting, going over their characters.

“Well, boys, I have some news,” Eddie said, kicking one foot up onto his throne and leaning on his knee. This got everyone’s attention, and they leaned in closer, hanging on to Eddie’s every word.

“What’s going on?” Gareth asked. They could tell Eddie looked serious, and that scared them.

He held his hands out. “Well, it seems, that I…am going to be a father?”

The guys all just stared at him. “You’re what?” Jeff asked. “No fucking way.”

“No no no no no,” Gareth said, shaking his head like he was trying to clear the thoughts from it. “You’re not- huh???”

Eddie gave a halfhearted shrug. “I knocked up my girlfriend.”

“You’re not being serious,” Dustin said.

“There’s no way he’s being serious,” Mike added. “He’s full of shit.”

Eddie reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He pulled the ultrasound photo out between his pointer and middle finger, holding it up. Gareth snatched it from his grasp, the guys looking over his shoulder.

Sure enough, it had your name written at the top. But that didn’t mean it was real. “Bullshit,” Gareth said. “This isn’t a baby. And there’s two little blobs. Nice try.”

“And that’s where we come to the second part of my news,” Eddie said. “It’s twins.”

The room froze. Everyone was looking up at their DM with horror and shock. “You’re being serious?” Grant asked.

“Dead serious,” Eddie said. “Those are my little beans in there.”

Everyone looked back down at the ultrasound, trying to make sense of it, of everything. They couldn’t wrap their minds around Eddie - their Eddie - being a father. It seemed absurd.

“So…” Dustin began, knowing there was more to the story.

“So…” Eddie contributed. “I’m dropping out. Have to get a job to take care of the babies.”

That sent a silence over the group. “You’re what?” Jeff asked.

“I have to,” Eddie said. “It’s the only way I can take care of my family, man.”

“Eddie, you’ve worked so hard to graduate. You’re just going to drop out your third senior year so close to graduation?” Jeff was hurting for his friend, being one of the only Hellfire Club members to be around for so long and see the work Eddie had put in. No one wanted to see Eddie fail at his goals.

“I have to,” Eddie repeated, dejected.

“And, wait-“ Gareth said. “What about the band, man? What about our dreams with Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie’s heart sunk. “I…I mean I can try to still be in the band, but-“

“But your family’s going to come first now.” Gareth snorted, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’d do this to us.”

“I didn’t get her pregnant on purpose, man,” Eddie said, getting frustrated with his best friend. “Shit happens.”

“‘Shit happens’? Really Eddie?” Gareth was getting more upset by the second, standing to face Eddie. “That’s what you have to say for yourself?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Eddie retorted. “My family is none of your business.”

“Your family, oh right,” Gareth scoffed. “I thought we were your family! I knew something was going to happen the second you started dating that girl-“

“Don’t talk about her,” Eddie said, his voice low, a warning.

Gareth was taken aback. “Jesus, Eddie. You really have changed.”

Eddie shook his head. “What, just because I love my girlfriend? Is it not metal enough for you to have a family with my girlfriend? Grow up, man.”

The guys were all speechless. This was not the Eddie they thought they knew. The Eddie who treated D&D and Corroded Coffin as the most important things in the world - his first babies. Now he was throwing them away in favor of you and the real ones.

“I understand why you feel the need to do this,” Dustin said, careful so as not to set Eddie off again, “but can’t we still have Hellfire Club meetings outside of school?”

Eddie thought for a minute. “You guys want to take it outside just so you can keep playing with me?”

“Hell yeah,” Mike said. “You’re the best damn DM we could dream of.”

Eddie cracked a smile at that. “Where could we have it?”

“My house?” Mike offered. “We have a whole basement we can use.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. This could work. I might be a little busy, though. Being a dad and all.”

The guys laughed and congratulated Eddie - except for Gareth, who was still pissed off. Eddie didn’t miss the lack of support from his best friend. “Come on, man. Don’t be like this.”

“Be like what, Eddie?” Gareth questioned, standing. “Upset that you’re ruining the chances of the band ever making it? Upset that you’re just giving up on school and dropping out on your third attempt that you were definitely going to succeed this time? How can you just throw your life away?”

“Gareth, I don’t have a choice,” Eddie said, trying to get it through the drummer’s head. “These babies are coming. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Gareth didn’t calm. He gritted his teeth, looking Eddie in the eyes. “You’ve changed, man.”

“Yeah, you have to when you become a dad!” Eddie said, waving his hands around for emphasis. “Come on, Gare. You’re my best friend. You don’t want to be Uncle Gare to two extremely cute kids?”

Gareth dared to crack the tiniest smile. “Stop.”

“Just think about how cute they’re gonna be,” Eddie continued. “Little metalhead babies.”

Gareth was softening. He didn’t like the changes this promised, he didn’t want Eddie to grow up so fast, but he had to admit to himself the image of Eddie as a dad made him feel a little proud of his friend. “You gonna have them listening to Metallica in the womb?”

Eddie laughed. “Damn right.”

“Do you really have to drop out, though?” Jeff asked, still concerned. “What’s that going to do to you, dude? You’ve worked so hard.”

“I’m fine.” Eddie looked around. It was clear he was trying not to be affected, to look like he didn’t care. He clearly cared a lot. “It’s just what needs to be done. So I’m doing what I have to do.”

Everyone was quiet. No one had a better idea, but they didn’t want to see Eddie throw away his hard work, either.

“Okay, man,” Grant said. “Do what you have to do.”

“And congratulations,” Dustin added. “On being a dad and all.”

Eddie smiled a little. “Thanks, dude.”

“Yeah, man, congratulations,” Mike said.

Grant and Jeff congratulated him too, but Gareth still seemed upset. In agreement that the Hellfire Club would continue outside of school, everyone felt a little better, but their final campaign in the drama room was bittersweet.

—

Eddie got a job as a dishwasher at Benny’s. He hated it.

He had dropped out and was now working full time, doing something he absolutely hated - and he realized just how much dropping out affected him. He was depressed. He lost his sense of worth, feeling like the biggest failure imaginable. Took my senior year three times and still never graduated, he’d think to himself as he washed dishes until his hands were red and raw. Now look at me.

You didn’t get to see Eddie as often anymore. News was out at school - everyone knew Eddie dropped out because you were pregnant. At least you didn’t have to hide the belly anymore - you could dress normally at school. It was at home that you had to be careful.

You hadn’t heard anything else about Eddie getting in trouble, so you hoped your dad had just been bluffing. You never put it past him, though.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Eddie greeted you at the door as you reached it. He had just gotten off work and it was obvious, his eyes red and tired. He pulled you into his slender chest, his long arms wrapped around your body. You buried your face in his shirt.

“Missed you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I missed you too,” he said, and he meant it. He missed you all day while he was at work. He thought of you and the babies constantly - do it for them.

You didn’t get to see Eddie as often anymore. He usually worked late, and by the time he was getting home you were going to bed. This was the first night you’d gotten to spend with him all week.

“They’ve grown,” he said as you stepped back, placing his hand on your belly.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Word’s out at school. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it from my parents at this rate.”

Eddie frowned. He knew it would be bad when they found out. “You look cute,” he said, changing the subject.

“Thanks,” you blushed. “I don’t feel cute.”

“Being pregnant with my kids is a good look on you,” he smirked. “Maybe I’ll have to give you another one-“

“One pregnancy at a time, babe,” you laughed.

“Come on,” Eddie said, “I’m exhausted. I just want to hold you in bed.”

You weren’t arguing. He led you by the hand back to his bedroom - quickly cleaning up something on his bed and shoving it into the closet. You gave him a strange look, but didn’t push it.

He pulled his shirt over his head and laid down on the bed. You joined him, cuddled up against his chest. His fingers played absentmindedly with your hair while you laid together. Eddie turned, catching you looking at him. He smiled and pressed his lips to yours.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he muttered against your lips.

“Missed you more,” you teased back, but his kisses were quickly taking your breath away. You were breathing heavily, his tongue pressing into your mouth and exploring it eagerly.

His hand slipped under your shirt, brushing over the bump before reaching your tits. He palmed them over your bra, moaning into the kiss. You moaned lightly, hips involuntarily grinding against his, feeling him already hard beneath his jeans.

He slipped your shirt over your head and unhooked your bra, kissing all over the exposed skin, his tongue flicking at your nipples. They were more sensitive now and had you arching your back into him, his hands sliding along your back as he sucked on your tits.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “It’s been so long. I need you.”

“I need you too,” you agreed, your panties already soaked at the mere thought of having Eddie inside you again.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asked, kissing back up to your neck. “I need you bad. But I don’t want to hurt them.”

“You’re not going to hurt them,” you promised him. “They’re safe in there.”

Eddie grinned. “Does this mean I get to fuck you raw now?”

You blushed, the idea sending heat straight to your throbbing core. “I guess so.”

Eddie groaned, diving back in to bite at your neck as his hand expertly undid your jeans. He pushed them down as much as he could before his hand was beneath your panties, tracing through your soaking folds.

“So ready for me,” he mumbled. “You want this just as bad, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you moaned, writhing in your need to be touched.

“Looking a little desperate, baby,” he teased. “Do you need me?”

“Need you so bad,” you moaned. You had no shame, you were desperate for Eddie to fuck you and you wanted him to know.

Eddie groaned from low in his throat. He slipped a finger inside you, pumping it slowly. You gasped at the sudden feeling, then you were grinding your hips down, wanting more.

“Needy little pussy,” he whispered in your ear. “Look at how desperate she is to take me.”

You whined. Your mind was going hazy, you weren’t thinking straight. With Eddie’s finger pumping into you, his calloused thumb rubbing at your clit, and his mouth kissing and nipping at your neck, you were in another world.

“Need it now,” Eddie said, then he was sitting up, pushing his own jeans and boxers down and pulling your clothes the rest of the way off. His hard cock sprung free against his stomach, ruddy tip leaking.

Eddie lined his cock up with your entrance, pushing just the tip inside. He moaned, loud - his first time feeling you raw and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to last more than two seconds. He couldn’t look at you like this - it was going to make him bust immediately. He buried his face into your neck instead, rolling his hips to push his cock in the rest of the way.

You whimpered, holding onto him tightly. Everything was so much more sensitive now, you felt as if you could feel every ridge and vein of Eddie’s cock, heightening the pleasure. His hips snapped into yours quickly, as if he’d lost control and needed more and more of you.

His old bed squeaked as he fucked you, his groans muffled into your neck. You gasped, tangling your fingers in his long curls, pulling slightly. That made him shudder, tightening his grip on your thigh, a choked moan coming from his lips.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he moaned, kissing from your neck to your shoulder and all over your chest. “You’re so beautiful. Feel so good. Your pussy is so perfect.”

You whined. “Feels good, Ed.”

“Yeah?” he panted, speeding up his pace just a little. “You like that?”

“Mmhmm,” you moaned, eyes falling closed.

“Tell me,” he breathed. “Tell me what you like.”

“I love when you fuck me like this,” you whined. “I love your cock.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You opened your eyes to see him staring intently down at you, eyes locked on your face, his cheeks tinged pink with the exertion and his impending orgasm. “It’s so big. Fucks me so good.”

Eddie groaned, his head dropping forward. His curls tickled your breasts, moving with his thrusts. “I’m so close,” he choked out. “Need you to cum for me.”

You were close, too. Especially when he reached down and rubbed against your clit, making you gasp. Everything was so sensitive, his touch sending electricity through your veins.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “I can feel you- holy shit- you’re so tight around me-“

Eddie tried his best to hold back, but the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as you came sent him over the edge. He let out a strangled gasp that turned into a loud moan as his orgasm hit him abruptly, cumming deep into you for the first time - on purpose, at least. He rutted into you with shallow thrusts as he shot his load into you, body trembling from the intensity.

After he pulled out, he flopped onto the bed next to you, his chest heaving with his breaths. You eyed the posters covering his walls, his guitar - his sweetheart - hanging across from you. It was all so Eddie. God, you loved him.

“That was insane,” he laughed, turning on his side and throwing his arm across your waist. “I needed that, baby.”

You kissed his nose, then his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His hand rubbed over your belly, a goofy grin on his face. “All three of you.”

You fell asleep in Eddie’s arms, cuddled closely to his chest. You slept peacefully, feeling safe and loved.

Eddie had a different experience. He couldn’t sleep, mind racing with thoughts of his life and future. He stared up at his ceiling, a sinking feeling in his chest. He was so disappointed in himself. This was supposed to be his year. He was supposed to graduate, make something of himself. Instead, here he was, a high school dropout washing dishes with soon to be two children to support.

He was a loser, just like he’d feared. Just like his dad. He had done everything in his power to keep from this fate, but it was all for nothing.

Mostly, he felt guilty for the babies. What kind of dad could he be if he could barely take care of himself? He made so little at Benny’s - it was better than nothing, but not by much. How the hell could he pay for the things two babies would need? And what about you?

He knew you deserved better. All three of you deserved better.

The only thing that got him through was the weed. He had promised you he would stop, but he was smoking more. It was a daily thing now, every second he had that he could get high, he’d take it. He was so miserable with his life, he needed the release.

You would be furious. Eddie knew that. He knew he shouldn’t still be smoking, he shouldn’t be wasting the little money he had on weed. He had even been calling out on days he got too high - which happened decently often. He knew his behavior was only solidifying his status as a total fucking deadbeat loser, but he couldn’t help it.

He had to have something to keep him going. He was so fucking depressed he didn’t know what to do with himself. If the weed helped, so be it.

Eddie crept out of the bed, careful not to disturb you. He opened his closet as quietly as possible and pulled out his stash box. He had a joint already rolled, which he plucked from the box and stuck behind his ear as he grabbed his lighter from the dresser and walked outside.

Taking a seat on the front steps, he removed the joint from his ear and brought it to his lips, sparking it up. He took a deep drag, the pungent smoke creeping down into his lungs. He held it, then released, the smoke billowing out from his lips in big clouds.

The warmth took over his body quickly. He felt lighter, happier. Every drag of the joint made those negative thoughts float farther away. He wasn’t thinking about his shitty job, or the fact he was going to be a father, or that he had dropped out of school and pissed off all his friends. There were no worries.

For that moment, everything was fine.

part 2 very soon

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