#can't think of any warnings for this chapter

[thinkinonsense]

if it's meant to be.

joel miller x fem!reader

masterlist — next chapter

summary: joel begins to settle in jackson when he meets a young widow on the second anniversary of her husbands death. he didn't plan to befriend her, let alone fall for her but when he sees a reflection of grief and love in her that he carries within himself, he can't help it.

warnings: slow burn, grief, mentions of death, cursing. some characters might feel slightly ooc, mentions of religion, half canon/ half not canon, nicknames, fleetwood mac mention, mentions of fertility and parenthood

chapter one: are you going to heaven?

every anniversary, you somehow find it within yourself to go to the graveyard. three rows back, five spots from the right; there he was. a small stone with your husbands name scratched in it.

the house feels haunted, you once told your friend, maria. for months, no one saw you leave your home. some of the people in the small town would come check on you, but that was two years ago. by now the wound should be healed, right?

“c’mon, sweet pea.” maria yelled, knocking on your door. “let me in! janice said she saw you leave this mornin’!”

"damn that old nosy lady." you mumble under your breath.

with a loud groan, you roll out of bed and make your way downstairs. only dressed in henry's clothes, a pair of boxers and a flannel shirt. even though the scent of him is gone, you can't find it in your heart to send them to donation.

“i'm alive, maria.” you answer, standing behind the door. “isn't that enough?”

the woman on the other side sighs. “you know we just don't want you to be alone today.”

reluctantly, you open the door and peak your head out.

“tommy took some flowers to henry's spot this morning. he said you always leave prettier ones than us.” maria smiles.

“there just the ones i grow in the garden every year.” you shrug.

maria’s heart ached for you. so young and already lost so much. eyes full of sorrow still mourning the man you had adored. henry and tommy worked together as fireflies for a while before tommy left them. the two were close friends before his passing.

“you should join us tonight at the town hall party.” she suggests. “i think dina would like to see you there.”

a small chuckle slips from your lips. “that little shit came in earlier with her key and made herself a sandwich.”

dina never caused you or henry any trouble. one day she just appeared and grew to you two like another limb. she was the only person who knew the pain you went through. some nights you would wake up sobbing from dreams of what almost was and what will never be. there were drunken nights where maria found you the next morning, slumped over in your bathroom with an empty glass in your hand. dina stayed with you for months, worried to leave you alone. the community of jackson did as much as they could to help but the ache never fully went away.

a beat passes and you sigh. “i guess, i’ll be there.”

happily, she walks off to get back to work. once the door closes, that sinking feeling returns.

joel didn’t know the first thing about the town of jackson, nor the people in it. women would admire him from afar but he was too worried about ellie to notice; especially on a day like today.

“she's fine, old man.” tommy chuckles, watching joel stare out the window at ellie and a group of teens around her age.

“just wanna make sure she ain't gettin’ in any trouble.” joel huffs, returning back to his breakfast.

tommy shakes his head at his worried brother. this side of joel reminded him of life before the outbreak.

“where's maria at?” joel asked, changing the subject.

“checkin’ in on an old friend of ours.” he replies almost in a somber way. “todays the anniversary of her husbands passing.”

“jesus.” joel exhales, not expecting that. “how did her husband pass? infected?”

tommy nods. “he went out for patrol and it went south. poor bride saw his head get blown off by some officers.”

'poor bride' was an understatement, joel thought. he still remembers what it was like to lose sarah. the wound gets easier to manage but it never fully heals.

" 's a real shame. henry was a good man." his younger brother sighs. "they'd been together since he showed up here in jackson seven years ago..."

whatever story tommy was about to tell about the dead man was interrupted when maria walked in. joel still couldn't believe how tommy looks at her she hung the moon and individually picked every fucking star in the night sky.

"morning, joel." maria says, taking a seat next to tommy.

"mornin'." he nods, politely.

as the couple catches up, something in the window captures joel's attention. two women on the sidewalk were talking together, one older and one younger. the older one seems to be doing most of the talking while the younger just nods along. she's dressed half hazardously in a pair on men's boxers as shorts and flannel about two sizes too big for her.

the woman was pretty, joel had to admit. soft features and eyes that shined.

"... she said she would show up tonight but who knows?" is all joel seems to have caught from the conversation between maria and tommy.

instead of trying to figure out who they were talking about, joel leans forward a little onto the table to get a better look at the women outside; but by then, it was too late. both of them had disappeared.

"joel? did you hear me?" tommy asked, snapping joel out of his thoughts.

"um, yeah, yeah... seven o'clock." joel guessed.

seven o'clock came around and you somehow made it down to town hall with a fresh baked pumpkin pie in your hands. the leaves in jackson were just beginning to change colors into different shades of brown and orange.

town hall was packed with just about everyone in jackson. kids played outside, chasing each other in the yard.

"oh! there she is!" you hear dina cheer when she sees you walk through the doors. her arms wrap around your waist, brushing against the white slip dress and henry's old leather jacket you had on. "pretty dress ya' got on."

"it better be." you chuckle. "costs me three jars of my homemade jam."

the two of you laugh until you spot maria and tommy at one of the tables. dina seemed too occupied with a brunette girl across the room anyways. politely, you excuse yourself and promise to catch up later.

"mind if i join ya'?" you ask, spooking maria who didn't expect to see your face here tonight.

"i'm glad you showed up tonight." she smiles, offering you the seat next to her.

"only came to remind tommy that he needs to come fix my heater again. winter will be here soon and i don't know why it keeps breaking."

there was a dry chuckle coming from behind you.

"it keeps breakin' cause tommy is the one 'fixing' it." a southern accent from behind announces. your gaze follows the sound until it leads you to the older man in front of you.

the mysterious man looked down at you almost like he had seen someone familiar. for an older man, he sure was handsome. looked rough around the edges, unlike the boyish charm you were usually drawn towards.

"and that pain in my ass would be my older brother, joel." tommy says, shaking his head.

"sweet pea, this is joel." maria introduces us. "joel, this is sweet pea."

there's a beat of silence between the two of you; almost like one is afraid to scare off the other.

finally, you speak up. "nice to meet you, joel."

"pleasure to meet you, sweet pea." he mutters, offering you his hand to shake.

joel regretted as soon as he felt your velvety touch. you don't fail to notice all the scars and callouses that covered his hand either. he must enjoy working with his hands, you thought to yourself.

luckily for the both of you, jane and chris call for everyone's attention up front. three small taps against their glasses and everyone turned.

"tonight, we want to come together to celebrate our community's fallen hero's..." chris announces.

for a moment, you're flashed back to two years ago. everyone heard the emergency call over the radios. infected.

"t-tommy, tell me it's not my henry."

the words came out in broken sobs near the gate. on the other side, you couldn't even begin to imagine what was happening. instead you are stuck here.

tommy avoids your watercolored eyes because he knows the truth. he leaves you there to go back out but when the gate opens again, you make a run for it. behind you, tommy's voice of warning shouted at you to stay away from henry but you didn't listen. the closer you got, the less he looked like your henry.

"henry!" you call out.

it happened so quick. one moment he charges at you and the next, sheriff carter's bullet shot straight through henry's temple until it came out the end. his blood splattered on your face and torso, marking you with the only thing left of him.

that night, dina and maria helped you clean henry's blood from your body and clothes. in the weeks that followed, tommy heard your screams from that day echo in his head every night while he slept. both of you were left replaying henry's final moments in your heads. tommy let you sob in his arms for hours, him and maria were both too afraid to leave you alone.

as the months passed by, the clouds around you only grew darker. you weren't sleeping or eating, the only people you would talk to were dina, maria, and your therapist, gail. it took a long time to open up to the idea of therapy. even now, you aren't entirely sure that it's done much help.

henry's name barely registered in your mind; nor did maria's voice calling your name.

"i need some air." you mumble, getting up and walking out the door.

on your way out, you snag a bottle of whiskey off one of the tables. a moment of awkwardness falls over everyone as the door slams shut behind you. joel watches as the young girl with ellie tries to go after you but maria stops her.

"she just needs a minute." his sister in-law tells the young girl.

once jane and chris continued, joel slipped out the door. he wasn't entirely sure why he felt the need to check on you. told himself that he would just make sure you were okay.

well, that was until you heard his footsteps.

"i'm fine, dina." you sniffle, placing the cap back on the bottle.

"sorry, i ain't dina." he mutters awkwardly, shifting on his feet.

the accent makes you turn around. tommy's brother stood a good distance away with his hands stuck in his pockets. there's an unreadable expression on his face.

"oh, s-sorry." you apologize, wiping a few fallen tears from your face. "i didn't know someone was out here. i was just about to go home."

"you don't um, you don't have to leave." he tells you, stopping any movement.

you offer him a small nod. "promise, i'm not usually a mess."

"didn't take you as one." joel replies, leaning against the railing.

"i wish they would all stop with these parties on the anniversary of his death. feels like their mocking me."

the two of you stare ahead at one of the old faded billboards that you've stared at countless times over the years. are you going to heaven?

"that's such a silly question. 'are you going to heaven?'" you giggle, a little tipsy from the whiskey.

"well, are ya'?" joel asked, almost jokingly.

"i gotta." you admit. "only chance i have at seeing henry again."

if anyone knew what you meant, it was joel.

"see that over there?" you ask him.

joel's eyes followed your index finger to what looked like might've once been a church.

"for years, i sat front row in those pews. even got married there." a small sigh escaped you as you recall the memories. "now i'm not so sure why i did any of it to begin with."

"born into it?" joel asked.

you nod. "daddy used to be a preacher but that was many moons ago, before the outbreak."

"you from jackson?"

"born in california but all i remember is jackson. came here for safety. for all i know, i could be the only girl alive from california."

a moment passes the two of you by. only the noise from inside the building can barely be heard.

"tommy's told me a lot about you, ya' know?" you tell him, breaking the silence.

joel almost winces at your statement, worried that tommy had nothing good to say about him.

"he's told me a bit about you too." he says, hoping to avoid any talk about himself.

you laugh dryly. "lemme guess.... did the words 'poor bride' come about?"

joel stays silent, immediately answering your question. he almost feels embarrassed that he doesn't answer, not wanting to hurt your feelings.

in a small voice, barely audible you mumble. "promise that i'm more than just a grieving widow."

for a moment, joel almost saw a mirrored reflection of his grief over his own daughter, sarah. despite all the years that have passed the hole in his heart was still there.

"you ever lost someone important to ya'?" you ask, looking up at him with puffy eyes and lips.

he nods and takes a deep breath. "years ago i lost my daughter."

"what was her name?"

"sarah."

"you're the poet of my heart." you hum an old familiar tune. one that joel hasn't heard in decades. a small smile crosses him.

"what was she like?" you asked.

"perfect." he replies without hesitation. "she was smart, smarter than anyone i ever met. too sweet for her own good."

"i bet she was."

"what about henry?"

you sigh. "henry had his flaws but even on his worst days, he always put me first. made me feel cared for and special. i don't think ill ever find a love like that again."

"don't count yourself out so soon." joel says earnestly. "you're young still."

"all my friends here are already married and have kids runnin' around while im here reliving memory's in my head that i'll never get back."

"being a parent isn't always all it's cracked up to be." he says, hoping to make you feel better.

"probably but at least i wouldn't be stuck daydreamin' about it."

the door swings open and maria walks out, joining the two of you.

"hey, you alright sweet pea?" she asked, rubbing your arm.

"yeah." you give her a smile. "joel here is keeping me company."

joel? her face read surprised. she gives him a look that you can't quite see but he shrugs sheepishly.

"he's been talkin' my ear off. told me some stories about growing up with tommy." you lie, hiding the depressing conversation the two of you shared in private together.

"told her tommy can't fix shit." he muttered, following along with your tale.

"maybe you can go fix sweet peas heater? let ellie breath for once." maria suggest.

"oh, he doesn't have to–"

joel cuts you off.

"i can look at it tomorrow, if ya' aren't busy."

"never am." you admit.

in the blink of an eye, a light snow began falling. the children outside cheer with excitement. you take it as a queue to return home.

"i'm gonna head home." you announce. "can you tell jane that i don't want that damn plaque?"

maria nods her head then pulls you in for a hug.

"have a good night." she says as you pull away.

"you too."

as you turn to joel, he's already looking at you. waiting for you.

"see you tomorrow, joel."

"see ya' tomorrow, sweet pea."

—tags: @lowrisemiller @imsherlocked-1998 @vvitchesh3x @chrrypascal @dugiioh @havensucks @olsenscardigan @sadgirlcait

[dollkuna]

GAME OVER, START LOVE!

click start. it's her last year of high school, and she's content with where she's at. sure, her love life couldn't be any more barren, but that's okay. mostly. even if she doesn't have a single clue as to who her prom date could be, that's still months away, right? she'll be fine, she'll figure it out. or, that's the plan, at least. getting thrown into a literal game of overused tropes and overdramatic confessions isn't. now that she's hit play, she can't go back. girl...

one tired protagonist. five love interests. the only way to end it, it's to finish it. and... the trek there isn't too bad, even if you could never bring yourself to admit it.

if you've got to pick one, who will it be?

the roster. choso kamo. ieiri shoko. kento nanami. ryomen sukuna. satoru gojo.

game content. mdni! slow burn. multiple endings. smut (specific warnings will be listed at the beginning of each chapter). many clichés, many stereotypes. isekai/otome themes. happy ending.

LEVEL ONE (PILOT); GAME OVER, START LOVE.

☆ god forbid a girl try to catch a break, no strings attached. suddenly, you've got an unwanted guest in your house, and you're running (not figuratively) into hot guys. and, well, maybe you shouldn't complain, but this particular hot guy is a pest.

LEVEL TWO; KISS THE COOK!

☆ gojo's only here to take care of the roach, you swear. one rainstorm two cups of microwaved ramen later, he's... spending the night? there's no way that'll end well. especially not when he's looking at you like he wants to pounce on you.

LEVEL THREE; PRACTICING THAT CHEMISTRY — LITERALLY.

☆ games aren't all fun, because, out of nowhere, you're failing your classes, and you need a tutor? how are you supposed to focus on your studies, when your tutor's focused on you?

LEVEL FOUR; WHO'S THAT CUTE BOY WITH THE... BLACK JACKET AND THE PINK HAIR?

☆ he's 6'5, tatted up, at the broodiest guy you've yet to meet. contrary to his demeanor, he's not actually all scowls and eye rolls. the vibrant hair? it's actually kind of sexy.

LEVEL FIVE; PARTY 4 U (MOUTH TO MOUTH).

☆ if gojo thought dragging you to one of his parties would work in his favor, he's wrong. well, kind of. it does work in his favor... just not only his.

LEVEL SIX; HEY, EMO BOY!

☆ you keep seeing him around, but you certainly didn't think he was a part of this. though, you're not complaining. he's different than the rest of them. calmer, refined. soft in the easy ways. you need a break, and maybe he's it.

SOFTWARE UPDATING... LOADING MORE LEVELS...

BONUS LEVEL; TAGLIST!

comment here to be added, ask to be removed. @mia-can-yap-too, @jeonwiixard, @tamishadawn, @clamousera, @getwaves, @toesucker69, @norissboy, @excedr.

all rights belong to © dollkuna. do not plagiarize, translate, or feed into ai.

[nectardaddy]

BITTER . . . kyotani “mad dog” kentaro + f! reader

                     𖥔    CHAPTER SEVEN : WARNING    𖥔

warnings : 18+ to read, language, addiction, major mention of drugs, violence + fighting + threats, blood, allusions to and out right sex in the very beginning, very toxic relationships, manipulation, use of the word “junkie,” the beginning is a very hard read and yaku is an awful human being, please take care of yourselves, no beta not edited we die like men

Yaku's hands never leave her hips, and for a second she thinks she's melting into him. She's lost in the moment, almost dissociative, because it feels good - it feels right.

He texted her again that night; as per usual, she relented and let him into her bed. She's alright with it, the physical attention, it scratches a part of her brain that craves it. But the other only feels used and dirty; like every place he touches her leaves a film of disdain.

The blonde is unwavering and rough, like he's taking out pent up anger on her from below. He was always rough, grabbing at parts of her body like his life depended on it - she wished it did, maybe then he would stay afterwards.

She thinks she's into it, as completely lost as he is, until she locks eyes with him and she loses her breath. His eyes are glazed over with a plastered on tipsy smirk - utterly cold. She feels like throwing up, even heaves at the realization.

Yaku Morisuke showed up high out of his mind, and only god knows what the hell he took and what he still has on him.

He didn't come in high; she opened the door for him and he gave her a sober smile when he walked in. But he went to the bathroom about thirty minutes ago, and her face drops in horror at the realization of what he's done in her apartment.

Her eyes go wide and she stops, heart growing weary and mouth going dry. “Are you high right now?” Her voice is quiet, and he hears him groan through a labored breath.

“No.” She can tell he's lying, knows all his ticks and quirks - he scrunches his eyebrows when he's lying, is giggly when he has something to hide, and bites his lips until they bleed when he's angry.

She takes a sharp breath in and gets up, throwing on the first shirt she sees and rummaging through the rest to find what's his. She hears him sit up, the bed creaking as he looks confused when she throws his things at him.

“Get out, Morisuke.” Pointed and direct - angry. Any ounce of pain she felt about the situation was diminished when she thought about it. The man knows she's six months clean, knows that she wants to stay that way, and knows how hard it took to get where she's at now. But still, he chose to get high in her bathroom and fuck her like she wouldn't be the wiser.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He rolls his eyes and puts his shirt on with a huff.

“My problem?” She bites, “you're the piece of shit who took something in my bathroom!”

“Jesus-” he groans. But he's accepted he's being kicked out, and throws his shirt on with a sigh. “You're crazy, why the hell would I-”

“Cut the shit!” She cuts him off with a huff, but her voice wavers at the end. She doesn't want to believe it - Yaku was a good person - but knows exactly what he's trying to accomplish. She can feel the heat rising to her face as she looks over at him. He's dazed, completely checked out, and she can't decide whether to burst into tears or rip him limb from limb. “Where is it?”

He pauses, maintaining eye contact with her as he bites his cheek. She can tell there's something eating away at him, the way his eyes swirl with discontent. “Where's what?”

There's a moment where she wants to slap him, to march up to him and hit him as hard as she can. A brief moment of silence passes where all she does is stand and stare at him as the puzzle pieces click into place. “Get the hell out of my apartment, Yaku.” She says it under her breath, too scared to even utter the words with her full chest.

He gets up with a roll of his eyes, puts his pants on like he's in no rush, like he knows he'll weasel his way out of the situation he's in. It makes her sick to look at him anymore, so she turns her eyes down when he strides up to her. He's quiet, all too silent as he looks her over as if he was plotting something, before his hand reaches to touch her face. “You were a lot more fun when you were high.”

The sentence hits her in the stomach like a punch, even feels the breath leave her lungs at the words. It's like her heart has been ripped out of her chest, leaving a gaping wound and despair in the wake. But instead of anger, she can only feel sorry. Sorry for herself, or for him - she couldn't tell which.

She closes her eyes and swallows hard, gritting her teeth together to try and stop the tears that pricked in her eyes. She moves away from him, feels his fingers slip from her cheek. “You were a lot more fun when you were sober,” she whispers. “You were yourself.”

He sighs, she can hear the grumble in his throat as he mutters to himself, something incoherent but undoubtedly offensive, as he passes her. He's cold when he passes through her doorway, and silent when he twists the handle of the front door. “Text me when you want to have fun again.” He closes the door with a gentle click behind him.

“Don't count on it, Morisuke.”

The morning comes earlier than usual. And Kentaro groans when his alarm starts to beep, a familiar drone he started to hate every morning he heard it. He hits the top of it haphazardly, and prays that it doesn't go off again.

Anger management classes start at 8:30, but he doesn't get home until the wee hours of the morning. So every time he hears the wretched alarm, he feels a little more sleep deprived, and wants to throw it across the room. Wants to hear it break into a million pieces, so he knows he'd get a good night's sleep. Instead, it goes off again, and he gets up with a huff.

His eyes are dark and tired, horrid lines underneath them proving just how little he slept, and his whole body is sore. He can feel that he has a black eye, the tender skin making him wince when he dragged his hands down his face. Blue and black bruises litter his skin, and his jaw still hurts.

She punched him three days ago but the pain still lingers.

The bruise on his jaw is turning a nasty yellow color, no longer purple like it was previously. But it still hurts to the touch. And the thoughts of how he got it still dip and dive in the back of his mind every time he looks in a mirror.

He runs his hands down his face before he gets up, cracks and pops emitting from worn down joints. He shouldn't feel like this, he's still young, but he'd rather tear his body apart than go on living a life he thought was boring.

It doesn't take much for him to get ready, always makes it as simple as possible. Most days he isn't awake until two in the afternoon, but his crooked lawyer can't help him out if he doesn't help himself first. He has a simple routine that gets him out the door fast, today isn't any different.

He takes a cigarette from the pack when he closes the door behind him, and puts the rest back in his jacket pocket. Smoking was the only thing that made him feel relatively normal; not the criminal people would look at in the street with fear, and not the ringleader of an elaborate way to sell one's soul.

Smoking was the only thing that made him feel more human and less like a monster. Because, to everyone else, he was the demon that crawled up from hell. Sometimes he enjoyed the stares and scoffs from others, but majority of the time it made him feel inhumane - unimportant.

No one cared about a felon with a mile long record - and no one ever will.

Three more days and anger management classes would be over. No more waking up early, no more hearing about ways to manage his anger, and no more of the woman that punched him so hard in the jaw he fell on his ass.

No more of the woman who haunted his waking thoughts with disgusting voices that liked the pain.

He doesn't know why he cares so much, nor why his mind keeps circling back to her. He remembers the fear in her eyes at the warehouse when Yamamoto grabbed her arm, but fear shifted to a petty smirk the moment he handled it - like it was funny, like it was a game.

He liked how brash she was, how her anger felt like touching a hot stove, and how she hid it all too well. Tucked under a facade of skittishness and self loathing was a starved dog biting at its leash.

He knew better than to let the leash loose, but did it anyway. Now he has a busted jaw and not a damn thing to show for it.

He's the last one to walk through the door of the community center, the last one to open and close the door to the class that only makes him more angry rather than fixing it. He shifts his eyes over the room and they stop at her - she's sitting with Yaku - and he rolls his eyes.

He doesn't know how the guy is still enrolled in the class when he wasn't here for the majority of it; he doesn't care enough to think over it. But he notices that Yaku is a little too close to her, a little too touchy when he leans over to tell her something, and a little too smug when she laughs at something he says. And he's a little too proud when his eyes flicker up to him and give him a shitty smile.

He should've killed Yaku that night.

Instead of letting him go, he should've kept kicking him in the ribs until he stopped breathing. He wouldn't have cared about the repercussions, maybe then he wouldn't be clenching his jaw so hard his teeth might break.

He sits in the back by himself, tucked into a corner as he crosses his arms. He stares. He hopes he burns a hole into the back of the blonde's head because he knows Yaku only ever cares about himself. He always comes to the warehouse drunk off his ass, high, or a combination of both, and rattles the nerves of everyone in the place. He was an asshole who would only ever be in it for himself - not even Mad Dog could train him to sit and stay.

He feels something grotesque and hot stir in his gut as he watches Yaku lean in closer to her and whisper in her ear, he sees her swat at him; a shocked expression paints her features that he can only guess came from Yaku saying something foul. He bites his tongue hard at the notion and averts his eyes - the blonde was doing this on purpose, and he was doing a damn good job of it.

He lets his mind wander to what he could've said in return; what he could've said to garner the same reaction. Something profane that makes her pupils dilate in desire, and letting deep rooted satisfaction take hold of him like a vice. He imagined giving Yaku the same treatment, letting sinful words leave his lips and all the stupid blonde could do would be watch - he didn't want to kill him, not anymore, he wanted him to suffer.

The next two days the same thing happens. He walks in, he sees her sitting next to Yaku, and thinks of different ways to make him miserable, to make him writhe and watch, or to kill him where he sits.

But the last day is different.

She sits in the back, alone, with Yaku three rows ahead of her. Her hair is messy, like she just rolled out of bed, and she looks like she's been crying, her eyes dark and puffy. There's bite marks on her neck that are starting to yellow, he didn't notice them before, and there's a feeling in his gut that's foreign to him.

He sits down a few chairs away from her, in the back away from everyone else. She doesn't glance over, doesn't pay him mind at all, because she's mouthing something to herself while she taps her foot.

She's counting.

He can make out that she made it to 78 before squeezing her eyes closed and taking a deep breath.

Counting is one of things addicts do when they crave. He knows first hand, seeing all the tell tale signs from somebodies and nobodies alike - scratching, chewing gum, using toothpicks, and counting.

His eyes flicker back to Yaku, and the foreign feelings ramp up again as he stares. He doesn't feel the same lethal tendencies, he doesn't want to kill him or beat him until he can't talk.

The only thing Kyotani wanted to do was put him back on a leash and drag him down to the pits of hell.

He doesn't hold the door for whomever is behind him when he leaves the class; he hears the person curse him, but he ignores it. His jaw is tight, and he feels the surge of heat in his chest from anger - he was looking for Yaku, and he'd be damned if he didn't find him.

The windchill doesn't faze him when he opens the outside door, letting it slam behind him from a broken hinge the community center employees never fixed, and his eyes scan the area before he makes his way to the corner of the building.

Yaku hasn't left yet, not to his knowledge, so he waits at the corner ready to pounce like a predator starved.

She comes out first, in a rush, with her hands shoved into her old Nekoma hoodie that still had blood stains on the cuff from days ago. Her head is held down, solemn and tense, and he can't help but stare. He wants to say something, maybe something close to an apology, but he zips his mouth shut when her eyes flicker over to him.

It was quick, for a moment he thought he imagined it, but her eyes met his in a moment of curiosity. She was at her wits end, and looked as if she might start crying all over again, but forced her eyes to the concrete as she continued walking.

His anger bubbles over after that, and he bites his cheek hard.

Yaku is one of the last to leave, lazily striding without a single care or thought, with a cigarette already between his lips to light as soon as he stepped foot outside.

Usually Kyotani was, somewhat, rational. Would think through situations before they happened, to minimize any involvement from others. But that got thrown at the window the second he let his new found emotions get the best of him.

He grabs Yaku by the collar and pulls, “what the fuck did you do? Why the hell didn't she sit with you?”

Yaku's cigarette falls to the ground at the yank, now finding himself on his tiptoes from being pulled upward. “What?!” But there's a lack of urgency within the man, a strange sense of indifference as Mad Dog watches him smirk. The blonde's eyes cut over to the woman walking away, now far down the street, a familiar face to the both of them. “Oh? This about your new puppy?” He sheets, and goes to pull Kyotani away - he only yanks harder. “I dunno' what the hell her problem is!”

“What the hell did you do, asshole?”

Yaku locks eyes with him and smirks again, like he's got the man in some sort of trap even though he's the one being held. “Wouldn't you like to know?” He lets out a chuckle before breaking eye contact, “why do you give a shit anyway?”

Yaku pulls away again, and this time Mad Dog lets him. He grumbles as he fixes the collar of his shirt before going in his pocket for another cigarette.

“Because she's clean.”

“Suddenly the manipulator cares about sobriety,” he mused, “go figure.” He rolls his eyes before putting a cigarette to his lips and lighting it, “never took you as the pining type, Kyotani. Now look at you.”

“That's not what this is, jackass.”

Yaku glances over to him, scrunching his brows seemingly trying to see the gears turning in Mad Dog’s mind. “Yeah? Then what is it?”

“A warning,” he bites. “Leave her the fuck alone.”

The blonde snorts, smoke from the cigarette leaving his nose when he does. “I wouldn't get your hopes up on training her to be your little lap dog. You think you know her, but you have no idea what you're getting yourself into. She's still just a junkie at heart.”

“So what does that make you, short stack?”

“Still a junkie,” he shrugs and looks at him again. There's a level of cockiness in his eyes that makes the man want to kill the blonde where he stands. “But at least I'm a junkie with the only thing that you want.”

“Stay the hell away from her, Morisuke.” There's a lethal seriousness behind his words, one of which makes Yaku falter before he falls right back into the same nonchalant attitude.

“Or what, Kentaro? You'll kill me?”

“I'll put you on a damn leash again.” 

taglist (open, reply to the masterlist or send an ask)

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@kameyyy @nekozaki @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @localgaytrainwreck @ggggbabybaby2

@chaloume @kawoala @evilari111 @baylz @cryoarm @solzscribblez @chososcamgirl @lavender-pink-socks @nobodybutnnoorr @aldebrana

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@shortcakebaby @knightofwands-upright

[shellsstardew]

you made me ship shelliot so hard it's not even funny 😭 like normally im not super into rarepairs bc it seems ppl ship them just to ship them but i legit see where you're coming from, especially in the same context as your comic where their story begins after elliot moves in. i actually love your comic i cannot wait for the next part (not trying to pressure you obv). ive never gotten too many hearts with either of them but your characterization just feels so accurate like i feel like I could see your story with their dialogue happening in the game and it wouldn't feel out of place at all. and also finally (oops ive been rambling), your art style isn't overly detailed but the facial expressions/body language/like perspective i guess of the characters, especially shane and elliot on the dock is so well done, the small changes in positioning work so well to communicate the change in their body language and its just really impressive.

sorry i yapped or if it was weird or something i promise i was not trying to come off weird 😭😭😭 i just really admire good fanworks such as yours and it's important to tell authors/creators that they're doing well and yeah

also if you (or anyone else) has any shelliot fic recommendations i would loveee to hear them :>

No but seriously it's so funny that your like "I hope I'm not being weird" meanwhile I reread over and over your super thoughtful message to keep me going 😭

YOU GUYS DON'T REALIZE I NEED THOSE HYPER DETAILED COMPLIMENT or my stupid brain will go like "Okay time to think you're worthless and that what you're doing doesn't matter"

No I can point at the screen and say "See? 👉📱 SEE?! 👉👉📱?" and it's putting another coin in the machine hehe

Anyway, thank you so much 😭

AND YES I HAVE FICS TO RECOMMEND! ONCE AGAIN, @cutethulu you know the drill hehe

Camellia Station, by Awdrey (Explicit - but it's only one short smut scene in the last chapter for now)

Now it's still in progress (updating once a month) and they still didn't smooch yet, but that's what you get when you fall into the Shelliott rabbit hole, hehe, you can't be picky

It's really well written and the author and I have a lot of similarities in our interpretations of Shane and Elliott :) Go give it some love!

Also some one shots by @mongoosingisme that I really love :

Untitled Shelliott Ranch Project

Herding cats (Explicit - Shane/Elliott/fem!farmer)

And UHHH maybe you've seen it already but I wrote one about Shells, it's an alternate ending to part 34 (it's my first one and I'm really proud of it teehee)

Shells, alternate ending, by shells_stardew (Explicit)

Also @visionofthebees wrote this one for me on the same concept :

One Shell of a Night, by Visionofthebees (Explicit)

Be warned it's EXTREMELLY SILLY and she didn't even reread it before posting, but I love it with all my heart it's so so funny hahaha

I love her so imma also recommend her Clint x Elliott fic too (yes yes you read that right, she's 10 degrees further than me on the crack ship scene) :

Falling Ore You (Explicit) (46 chapters, completed)

LISTEN SHE MAKES IT WORK OKAY! SHE REALLY DOES!

And also, check my bookmarks! They are some non-Shelliott stuff that I absolutely love in there! (BUT always ALWAYS check the tags before reading, there is also some dark stuff haha)

Here you go, hope I didn't recommend all the ones you already knew about, as we all know this is not an extremely popular ship so this is what we get, quality over quantity hahahaa 😭

[patchwork-crow-writes]

Having read your analysis on how bad Kris has it has gotten me to think. I really do think Kris is suicidal, but they're bound to the promise they gave to the Knight…so after that's fulfilled, maybe Kris just wouldn't care anymore, they would have no reason to keep going, if not for us.

BUT -- the WEIRD ROUTE tells us we can push this, the fact that we groom Noelle to become a traumatized, violation of their friendship all for the sake of "getting stronger". Kris getting pissed to the point where they are willing to damage the soul (checking your menu shows that HALF of your HP is gone!), and only being stopped by Asgore…means that that they were perfectly ready to take their own life just to stop US.

So what would later entail with that route? Why does the Spamton Sweepstakes only give us details on supposedly the Weird Route suddenly stopping at Chapter 5? Maybe...Kris will just end it all right there. Pushed past to a point where they can't even keep that promise, not when this is happening. Not when they're completely shutting down over the fact that Noelle's been broken and conditioned to love Kris in that sort of fashion. Something so bad that they just refuse to keep going, in spite of everything.

Okay, let me first apologise for taking so long to get back to this ask. I keep meaning to, and then I keep running out of time before I can. I hope you can forgive me, dear anon.

I'm going to put this under a read-more, due to my musings touching on some rather dark and potentially distressing topics: Content warnings for death, suicide, manipulation ahead... all the lovely things inherent to the Weird Route.

But yes... the promise... something that both keeps Kris going and seemingly drives them to deep despair... enough for them to potentially contemplate death as an alternative. The thing is, depending on the nature of this "promise", I'm wondering if it won't end with Kris having to sacrifice themself anyway, perhaps in an attempt to undo the damage they feel that they'd wrought with... whatever happened in their past. I'm wondering if the SOUL might play a factor there... perhaps Kris has to play host to it, let it grow stronger as it seals more and more dark fountains/Titans... and then give it away to bring Dess back from wherever she currently is. It would certainly put a new spin on their role as the "cage" - a container to safeguard the SOUL as they deliver it to whoever its true recipient is supposed to be.

Now, I can't speak on the weird route with any authority. But I do have a theory of sorts regarding the Spamton Sweepstakes chapter numbers. As you pointed out, they count upwards to chapter 5 and then stop. This could mean that perhaps Kris just completely pulls the plug and self-terminates to stop the SOUL from doing... whatever the hell it's doing. But I wonder if maybe the count stops at five because that's the point where the Weird Route is completely locked in, and can no longer be opted out of. I know that, even in chapter 4, we can still abort the weird route right up until we reinsert the thorn into Noelle's finger. That seems to prime her for something... some action she'll have to perform in order to truly "complete" the weird route. I'm guessing that we will still be able to opt out of whatever that action is supposed to be, right up until it's executed. But once we pull the trigger, there'll be no going back. The Weird Route will be permanent from that point on.

As to what this action might be? I'm going to hazard a guess that we'll have Noelle freeze somebody else... either Ralsei or Susie... or perhaps both, if we consider the implications of the Sword Route game. In that light, Berdly could have perhaps been the test run... a terrifying thought because that makes his apparent death/coma even more meaningless than it already was.

As I was writing this, a truly chilling thought popped into my head: perhaps we're BOTH right here. Perhaps the Weird Route IS completed, and Kris DOES choose to end their own life... but by that point, it's already too late. What if we were still able to pilot their corpse, even after they'd died? What if we persevere through our infection of Noelle, and she's able to bring us back? What if not even the death of our protagonist could stop this horrible fate from transpiring? If that's true, then the line "you were used up" suddenly carries a much more fatal weight than it did before...

Whew, this was a bit dark! I hope I'm not right, but... man. I hope this was interesting to you, anon!

[morgana-larkin]

Here is the next chapter of Mine and I got this idea a couple weeks ago, waiting for the right time to do it. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32

Mine - Part 33

Summary: You and Melissa keep getting interrupted at night, causing Melissa to get sexually frustrated.

Warnings: Smut, strap on use, bottom Mel, Teasing, Swearing

Words: 5.9K

Melissa sits on the couch beside you with a plate of food and 2 forks. She hands you one and the both of you start eating off the same plate. 

“Did you put both of our favourite dishes on the plate?” You ask her and she nods.

“Of course, why would I put something else?” She simply says and you smile at her. You then put your hand on her waist and you kiss her and she immediately kisses you back.

“Ugh, I don’t know how your kids survive with how lovey dovey you two always are.” Kristen Marie says as she sits down next to you and you both pull apart. 

“Amelia threw popcorn at us last week when she saw us kiss.” You tell her as Melissa continues eating. 

“Sounds like something I’d do too if I had some.” Kristen Marie says.

“You’re so supportive sis.” Melissa says sarcastically.

“You’re at a family gathering, at a thanksgiving dinner and you two still can’t keep your hands and lips off each other. You’d think after almost 10 years married then you’d be able to control yourselves but apparently not.” Kristen Marie complains and Melissa smiles at you.

“I can't help it if my wife is super cute.” She says and you smile at her. 

“You’re super cute as well.” You tell her and you see a small blush form on her cheeks.

“You guys realize I’m still right here right?” Kristen Marie says and you both look at her.

“And?” Melissa asks. 

“Come on, I haven’t seen you or your chaos gremlins since Easter. Catch me up on your life.” 

“You can always come over anytime. I mean we also have a puppy now.” Melissa tells her as you both continue eating. 

“You mean the one that all the kids are chasing right now?” Kristen Marie says and you both look to see about 10 kids chasing Elena and Elena is wagging her tail, loving the game.

“Elena!” Melissa yells and Elena stops and looks around. “Elena!” Melissa yells again and Elena looks at you both and runs over. Melissa gives her a piece of chicken for listening and some head scratches. “This is Elena.” Melissa introduces her to her sister. 

“She’s been amazing with all the kids, especially Caty.” You say and Melissa nods as she puts the plate on your lap and then continues to pet Elena. “And Melissa is just in love with her.” You add and Elena jumps on Melissa’s lap. 

“We never had any pets growing up.” Kristen Marie tells you. “We never knew what having pets was like, just siblings.”

“Yep.” Melissa agrees and you look to see Elena is on her back as she plays with Melissa. You see Melissa has a huge smile as she tries to tickle Elena and Elena is playfully pawing at her. 

Half an hour later, Melissa goes to put more food on the plate and you look around to make sure all your kids are alright. You see Amelia playing with her 2 favourite cousins, Francesca and Liliana. You see Caty is talking to her aunt Toni while Nico is running around with a couple other toddlers. You see Bella is being fed by your mother and Mia fell asleep on Melissa’s mother. You then look to see Elena is going around the room to see if anyone dropped any food for her to clean up, you think it’s cute how she walks as she hasn’t grown into her paws yet. 

“All our kids are fine.” Melissa says as she comes back with another plate full of food. 

“How’d you know that’s what I was doing?” You ask her and she looks at you.

“You think I don’t know what a concerned mother looks like?” She asks as she feeds you a piece of a meatball. “Here, you loved this last time you had it.” Melissa says as she feeds you something else. 

“Are you planning to feed me the whole time?” You ask her after you swallow.

“Maybe. Would it be bad?” She asks and you shake your head before she feeds you another bite. 

“Then BOOM!” Caty finishes explaining her dream to her aunt. 

“Oh wow, what an interesting dream you had.” Toni says and Caty shakes her head. 

“And it came creeping out at you…the sea monster!” Francesca says and then both Amelia and Liliana run away while screaming. 

“This is my favourite toy.” One of the cousins says to Nico and shows Nico the toy and how it works. 

“Want another bite?” Your mom asks Bella and Bella nods before she opens her mouth to get fed again.

“And then they lived happily ever after.” Teresa finishes telling Mia a bedtime story.

“Good doggy.” One of the kids says as they feed Elena a piece of food.

An hour later you’re chatting with one of Melissa’s cousins when Caty comes up to you and tugs on your shirt. You look down at her and she holds her arms out, wanting to be picked up.

“Hey sweetheart.” You tell her as you pick her up. Caty then realises that someone else is there with you and she hides her face in your neck. 

“I’m glad my cousin found you, she was never this happy with that Joe guy, and even after being with you for over a decade.” The cousin tells you and you smile at them. 

“Thank you. Many of you have told me that over the years. I never met Joe but from what I hear about him, he wasn’t good enough for her.” You say to them and they nod.

Half an hour later, both of the twins are with you, both holding a paper plate as you put some sweets on their plate from the dessert table. You see Melissa and Amelia in line as Melissa is holding Amelia up so she can decide what she wants.

“You have to put these cookies on their plates.” Maria Christina tells you as she’s right behind you and you look at her before putting the cookies on the twins plate.

“I’m guessing you made them?” You ask her and she nods.

Melissa comes to sit beside you after a few minutes with a plate full of sweets and you shake your head playfully. You both watch as all the kids sit somewhere on the floor as they talk to each other while eating. 

“So it seems like the kids will be tired and most likely will fall asleep right away.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“I believe so. What should we do with that extra time?” She asks with a smile.

“I have an idea.” You say before you lean in and whisper in her ear. “Maybe I’ll let you do anything you want to be.” 

“Anything I want?” She asks and you can see she’s thinking about everything she wants to do to you.

“Anything.” You confirm and she hums.

“I like your idea.” She tells you and you smile.

“Thought you would.” You say and then take a bite of a cookie. 

“Elena!” You both hear and you look to see Caty chasing Elena and Elena has Teddy in her mouth.

“Shit.” Melissa says as she quickly puts her plate on your lap and then runs after Elena. 

“Give Teddy back!” Caty yells and Melissa manages to catch Elena and gets her to let go of Teddy. Elena runs aways and Melissa looks at Teddy and sees that he has a rip on his leg. 

“I’m sorry Dolcezza, he has a small rip right here.” Melissa tells Caty gently as she shows Teddy to her. 

“Elena ripped Teddy open? I hate her!” Caty yells and Melissa hugs her as she starts crying. 

10 minutes later, Melissa is sitting on the couch beside you with Caty in her arms as you look at Teddy. You see that Elena ripped the seams in the leg and it could be easily sewed back together.

“You know, I think Teddy can be fixed with a small operation.” You say and Caty looks at you.

“What?” She asks.

“I think grandma can sew him back together for you, make him as good as new.” You tell her.

“Can we ask Grandma right now?” She asks and you nod. You and Melissa stand up and make your way over to your mom, with Caty still being held by Melissa. 

“Hey mom.” You say and she turns around to look at all of you.

“Hey sweetie, what’s up?” She asks and you see that Bella is now being held by your dad.

“Well Elena-”

“Ripped Teddy open.” Caty interrupts you with annoyance in her tone. You show Teddy to your mom and she sees the tear.

“Would you be able to fix him?” You ask her and she nods.

“Ya, looks like an easy fix. I can fix him up and give him back in 2 days.” She tells you and you look at Caty. 

“Thank you Grandma.” Caty says and your mom smiles at her.

“Feel better Dolcezza?” Melissa asks her and Caty nods.

“Still mad at Elena.” She says and Melissa hums.

“Well there’s some mistakes that Elena will make, just like humans. Elena isn’t perfect just like the rest of us.” Melissa explains.

“I want down.” Caty tells her and Melissa puts her down and Caty runs off.

“Why do I get the feeling that Elena will be sleeping with us until Teddy is back?” You ask and Melissa looks at you with a sigh. 

The 8 of you get ready to leave an hour later when both of the girls are asleep and the other 3 kids are getting tired. Melissa manages to catch Elena with some help from family members and puts her on the leash. Melissa puts Elena in your seat as you two strap all the kids in their seats. 

You all get home and get the kids ready for bed right away. You change the girls into their pjs and then put them in their cribs and they fall back asleep right away. You then get Caty changed as Melissa helps Nico while Amelia is changing herself. After all the kids are put to bed, you bring Elena to the bedroom and she uses the stairs to get on the bed. 

“Amelia needs a new bed.” Melissa says as you both get changed into your pjs and you look at her.

“Why?” 

“Because her feet are near the foot of the bed.” Melissa explains and you nod.

“So she needs a big kid bed then.” You say and Melissa nods. “Alright well next weekend we can go shopping for one.” You tell her. 

“We can worry about that then, but right now I believe you said I could do whatever I want to you.” Melissa says as she walks over to you and traps you between her and the nearest wall. 

“I did say that.” You tell her and she immediately kisses you. 

“And it’s been so long.” She says as she trails down to your neck and you giggle.

“It’s been 5 days.” 

“Like I said, so long.” Melissa says and she takes your shirt off. She goes to put a nipple in her mouth when there’s a knock on the door.

“Mamma, mommy.” Caty says and Melissa groans as she lays her head on your chest.

“Noo.” Melissa complains as she’s very wet right now. Melissa picks up your shirt and gives it to you and you put it on as she answers the door. “What’s up, Dolcezza?” She asks Caty.

“I can’t sleep since someone ripped open Teddy.” She says and then glares at Elena who’s fast asleep on the bed. 

“Well what do you want then?” Melissa asks and you can see she’s trying to keep it together since she’s incredibly turned on. 

“Can I sleep here?” Caty asks.

“You can but just know that Elena is sleeping here as well.” Melissa tells her and Caty thinks about it for a few seconds. 

“Ok, I can live with that.” Caty says and Melissa steps aside to let Caty in. 

“Make yourself comfortable Dolcezza.” Melissa says as soon as she lifts Caty up on the bed. “We’ll be right back.” Melissa tells her. 

As soon as Melissa closes the door, Melissa pins you against the wall. She quickly puts her hand down your pants and finds your clit and starts doing circles. You buck your hips into her hand and she quickly covers your mouth with her other hand as she starts kissing your neck. She feels your entrance and feels that you’re really wet so she slips 2 fingers inside and you let out a muffled moan. She starts pumping in and out of you and puts her palm on your clit.

“Hm, Melissa.” You let out, even though her hand was covering your mouth. You’re already close to your orgasm and you wrap your arms around her neck and she presses her body closer to you. 

“Go on, Amore.” She whispers to you and you clench around her fingers. You feel her stick one finger in your mouth and you suck on it as you come. You take a few seconds to catch your breath as Melissa takes her fingers out of your mouth and pants. “You alright?” She asks and you nod.

“Felt amazing.” You tell her as you try to even out your breathing. You then touch her waist and go to put one hand down your pants when you both hear Caty.

“Elena no! I don’t want to pet you. Stay away from me.” Caty says sternly and Melissa whimpers. 

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” You tell her before you kiss her and then go into the bedroom.

Melissa wipes off the wetness before she goes into the bedroom. She sees you get in the middle of Elena and Caty, with Caty in the middle of the bed. Melissa crawls in bed and gets comfortable before she wraps an arm around Caty.

“You comfortable, Dolcezza?” Melissa asks and Caty nods before she nuzzles her head in Melissa’s chest. You then all fall asleep in minutes, with you cuddling Elena and Melissa cuddling Caty.

The next day you drop off both sets of twins at daycare and then head to Abbott with Amelia. After Amelia joins her classmates in the hall, the both of you go to the break room and sit at the table. Melissa immediately goes on her phone as you get some coffee. As you put some sugar in your cup, you feel a vibration in your pocket. 

“I see you didn’t leave your vibrator at home.” Ava teases as you get your phone out of your pocket and you flip her off. You look at the text you got and see it’s from Melissa.

Melissa: I can’t wait to pin you down and have my way with you tonight 😉

You look up from your phone and she’s not looking at you but she’s smirking. You sit in your spot and you feel a foot go up and down your leg and you see Melissa bending forward, to reach you.

At the end of the day Melissa says goodbye to her last student and she grabs her things before she locks up and makes her way to you. She wraps an arm around your waist and gets you to turn around in her arms so she can kiss you. You both pull apart when you hear someone clear their throat and look to see Barb and Amelia there. You see Barb has her eyebrows raised and Amelia is not impressed. 

You both get home and you get the twins set up with a couple of toys, the girls in their playpen and Amelia with the iPad. Melissa wraps her arms around you from behind and lays her head on your shoulder. 

“I can’t wait until tonight when I get to pound into you with my fingers.” She whispers in your ear and you shiver. You can tell she’s getting tightly wound up from not getting any for 5 days. 

At night, as soon as she finishes putting Caty to bed, she comes in to find you fast asleep cuddling Elena. She crawls on the bed and starts kissing your neck, trying to wake you up excitedly. You groan out and cuddle closer to Elena and Melissa sighs. She gets more comfortable in bed and puts an arm around you. She feels a wetness between her thighs and rubs her legs together and she whines softly. She wonders if she should masturbate quickly to get some relief for now. She then remembers that she’ll just get you back tomorrow for falling asleep on her. She falls asleep thinking about everything she’ll do to you tomorrow night with a smile on her face.

The next day you’re getting changed for the day and Melissa comes out of nowhere and pins you to the wall. She kisses your neck, just long enough to almost give you a hickey and you moan out. She then pulls away with a smile and then goes to the dresser and pulls some clothes out.

“I hate you.” You tell her, catching your breath and she looks back at you with a smirk.

“That was for falling asleep right after putting the kids to bed.” She says with a wink and you cross your arms.

“The kids were more excited for a Monday than usual, what did you expect?” You tell her and she shrugs. 

“Just hope you got enough rest to stay up tonight.” She says as she takes her pj top off and picks up her bra.

“And miss this wonderful sight?” You ask her as you also start getting changed.

“You did last night when I came back to find you fast asleep, cuddling Elena.” She tells you as she puts her bra on and you look at her breasts in the bra. 

“Well I’m more rested today. So even if they are excited then I’ll still have enough energy for sex tonight.” You say and she smiles.

“Good.” 

In the break room you see she bends over on the table, scrolling through her phone. You look and see that she wore a more revealing shirt than usual, almost not school appropriate, almost. You also notice that she wore one of her push up bras and you quirk an eyebrow. She looks at your quirked eyebrows and she smiles, pretending that she’s not trying to rile you up on purpose. When she sees Barb isn’t looking, she winks at you and leans back in chair and crosses her arms, lifting her breast up even more. You get your phone out and text her and she looks at her phone.

You: I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work

Melissa: We’ll see. I know you can’t resist my boobs

At lunch, you two have recess duty together and you see she wore her leather jacket, the one that is your favourite of hers. She crosses her arms when she sees you looking and she pushes her breasts up. She walks up to you with a smile and you look at her. She grabs your hand as you both watch the kids and you feel her squeeze your hand. 

“Ready for tonight?” She asks you and you look at her. “I’m gonna pound into you until you can’t walk.” She adds and she pulls you in closer and wraps an arm around your waist. 

“Mamma! Mommy!” You hear and look to see Amelia walking up to you both.

“Hey Tesoro.” Melissa says.

“Can you not touch each other right now, all my classmates and friends are watching.” She says as she points at all her classmates that are watching you two with head tilts and curiosity. Melissa unwraps her arm from around your waist and wraps it around your shoulders. 

“Tesoro, everyone knows we’re married.” Melissa tells her.

“Yes but showing affection is different. You already do it enough at home, but at school too?” She asks and you try not to laugh.

“We always have sweetheart, you just weren’t here before.” You say and she rolls her eyes and walks away. “Now I feel like we should keep showing PDA, mainly just to embarrass her.” You tell Melissa and she chuckles.

“We’re her mothers, it’s one of our jobs to embarrass our kids.” She agrees as she kisses your cheek. 

In the evening, while watching a movie, you and Melissa are sitting together on the loveseat with a blanket covering you both as the kids are on the couch. You feel Melissa is rubbing your thigh near the end of the movie, trying to get you excited and ready for tonight. You know that she can barely go 3 days without sex, so the fact that it’s been 7 days is a long time for her to go without. When you got with her, you had no idea that she had such a high sex drive but you aren’t complaining as yours is just as high and she’s irresistible. 

You lean back into her as you’re sitting between her legs and you let out a small whimper as she’s still rubbing your thighs. She then bends forward and starts kissing your neck, on the side where your kids can’t see what she’s doing, mainly Amelia. She starts sucking and you slightly buck your hips and she pins you down. 

“You are insatiable.” You tell her and you feel her smile on your neck.

“It’s been a week and we keep getting interrupted. Well been a week for me, as I gave you an orgasm on Sunday.” She says.

You put Caty to bed with Elena at the foot of the bed. Your mom dropped Teddy, good as new, off not long after you home. Caty inspected Teddy and smiled and told a quick thank you to your mom before she went and forgave Elena. You close the door and you immediately have your arm grabbed and dragged to the bedroom. You only have time to register the door being closed before you’re thrown on the bed and then Melissa is on top of you. 

She quickly takes both of your shirts off and kisses all over your chest. She then puts a nipple in your mouth and you buck your hips into her. You put a hand in her hair and grab a handful as she does sinful things with her tongue on your nipple. She switches to your other nipple and starts doing the same things she did to your other one. You buck your hips into her again and then you both hear crying from one of the girls.

“Oh come on!” Melissa yells as she hits the bed with her hand angrily. You give her a kiss before you push her off of you and you get off the bed. She groans as she flops down on the bed and you giggle.

“It sounds like Bella, she started teething again.” You say and she covers her face with her hands. You pick up the first shirt you see, which turns out to be her pj shirt and you put it on before you walk out of the bedroom.

After you come back from calming Bella down, you both know the moment has been ruined and you crawl in bed beside her. You wrap an arm around her waist and lay your head on her naked chest and then fall asleep. 

The next morning you can tell she’s more grouchy than usual and you know it’s because she hasn’t had an orgasm in a week. In the car, she plays music louder than she usually does which gets Caty to throw a toy at her. It missed but it got her attention as it made a sound and she turned it down. 

On the way to Abbott, she stops at a red light and sighs before checking on Amelia in the mirror who’s on her iPad. She then turns to you and sees you’re on your phone playing a game. You drop Amelia off with her classmates and then make it to the break room. She slumps down in her chair and you grab both yours and her coffee mug and then start to make a new pot. She puts her hand on her forehead and groans.

“You look terrible.” Ava comments and Melissa glares at her.

“Fuck off Coleman.” She says sternly and Ava looks at you confused. Melissa is normally not grouchy in the mornings since you both get up at 4:30 and have woken up enough by the time you get to school. You just shrug at Ava as you don’t want to tell them, much less Ava, the reason why she’s annoyed this morning. 

“What’s the matter, did you not get lucky last night?” Ava asks and you turn around with the coffee just as Melissa slams her hands on the table, scaring Barb who yelps. Ava then runs out of the break room and you put the coffee down in front of her. You see everyone is looking at you both and you shake your head, telling them not to say anything to her.

You see she says hi to her students with a smile like always, never showing anger or annoyance to her students. 

At lunch, she stabs her fork at the food in the container that you warmed up in the microwave for her as she scrolls on her phone. You quirk an eyebrow at her and she looks at you before looking back at her phone and stabs her food again. Barb looks at you and you subtly make a scissor motion along with a shake of your head and Barb nods. 

Melissa ends up leaving 10 minutes before the bell rings, claiming she needs time to calm down before she has to pick up her little eagles. Everyone then turns to you when she left and you look at them in confusion.

“What?” You ask.

“Melissa is more…angry than normal, like a lot more angry. She really calmed down when she got with you.” Janine says and you sigh.

“Why is she so angry and frustrated?” Jacob asks.

“She’s fine, she’s just a little…pent up.” You tell them and all their jaws drop.

“Wait wait wait. You’re saying that she’s angry because she’s sexually frustrated?” Janine asks and you nod. 

“We’ve been getting interrupted by our kids recently and I guess she reached her boiling point.” You explain. “Just don’t tell Ava.” You add and they all nod.

At the end of the day, Melissa storms past you just as you’re locking up and you run after her and grab her arm. She gasps in surprise before she turns around and looks at you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask her.

“Parents are so irritating and the kids gave me a headache today.” She says as she crosses her arms. Oh, she really needs an orgasm tonight.

“Mamma!” You both hear and then Amelia hugs Melissa’s waist and Melissa strokes her head.

“Hey Tesoro.” She tells Amelia tiredly.

“You ok Mamma?” Amelia asks as she looks up at her. 

“I’m fine, just tired.” She says. “Let’s go home.” She adds before you all walk to the van.

On the way to the daycare and on the way home, Melissa has more road rage than usual and you probably should have driven when she’s this frustrated. Later on, you’re playing with the girls when Amelia comes running out of the kitchen and goes to you. 

“Mommy!” She yells and you look up at her. “Mamma cut herself and she’s really annoyed.” She tells you and you stand up. 

“Watch over your siblings please.” You say before you go into the kitchen. You see Melissa is pacing around in the kitchen with a piece of paper towel pressed to the cut on her hand.

“Stupid fucking knife.” She mutters angrily and you put your hands on your hips and clear your throat and she looks up at you.

“I’m glad none of our kids are in here to hear you drop an f-bomb.” You tell her and she sighs. “Let me look at the cut.” You add as you go up to her and remove the paper towel.

“I’m fine, it’s a small one.” She says and you see she cut off enough skin that she’ll need a bandaid for probably a week. 

“Let’s go to the bathroom so I can clean it and patch it up.” You tell her and she groans.

“I don’t need that, I need to finish making dinner.” 

“I don’t think you understood me because I wasn’t asking.” You say sternly before you grab her arm and drag her to the bathroom. 

At dinner she does the same thing at lunch and stabs her food before she puts a bite in her mouth. Amelia and the twins notice some tension from her but they don’t say anything as they don’t know what to say.

At night she comes back from checking on the girls and you immediately kiss her as soon as she turns around from closing the bedroom door. She yelps into the kiss at the surprise but quickly starts kissing you back. You then pull away and spin you both around and start getting her to walk backwards until she falls on the bed. You take her top and pants off and she looks at you in surprise.

“You were grumpy today, you must be very sexually frustrated.” You tell her and she whines out as you squeeze her boobs. 

You then take your top off and then bend down to suck on her nipples. You see she’s already quite wet but you want her more than ready for what you have planned. She’s been this grumpy before from being pent up and she needs to be fucked really good. She moans out as you lick her nipple and you pick up the first piece of clothing you could, which was her shirt and you put it in her mouth. You really don’t want any interruptions tonight. You then lean down close to her face and she looks at you. You take the shirt out and kiss her as well as roll your hips and she looks down before looking back up at your face.

“Is that what I think-” She starts to ask but you put the shirt back in her mouth. 

You then get off the bed and flip her over on her stomach with her legs dangling off the mattress. You then take your pants off and feel up and down her back and ass. You then align the dildo with her entrance that you put on when she was checking on the girls. You insert it slowly and she lets out a muffled gasp. You see her grip the sheets as you bottom out inside of her. 

“You good?” You ask and she nods quickly. 

You then start pumping in and out of her and she lets out muffled moans and gasps. You grab her hips before you start pounding into her and she lets out a muffled yelp of surprise. It doesn’t surprise you when you have to start going harder as she’s clenching already as she was really pent up. You let go of her hips and bend down to be on top of her and grab her hands. 

“Close already?” You ask and she nods. You can hear her heavy breathing and you see it’s quicker as well as she’s close. “Do you think you deserve to come even after all the attitude you had today?” You ask her in her ear and she whimpers. She nods after a few seconds and you place a kiss on her back. “You're right, you do deserve it. Go on and come.” You say and she grips the sheets tighter and squeezes her eyes shut as she comes. 

You get off of her and pull out of her. While she’s coming down from her orgasm, you flip her onto her back and insert the dildo back into her and she gasps out, still with the shirt in her mouth. You pump into her hard and fast, how she prefers it and she bucks her hips. You bend down to be closer to her and she wraps her legs around your waist to keep you there. 

You then trail your hand down and start circling her clit and she tilts her head back and lets out a muffled scream. You then know she’s clenching already and you look at her gripping the sheets again and her eyes are shut. You apply more pressure to her clit as you’re about to come as well and she arches her back and gasps as she comes. A couple more thrusts and then you come as well and you stop moving. 

You pull out of her and take the strap off and you see she’s breathing heavily. You go into the nightstand and pull out the cloth and you clean both of you up. You throw the cloth into the hamper before you look back at her. She rolls onto her stomach, takes the shirt out of her mouth and starts to crawl to her side of the bed but fails right away and falls onto the bed. You smirk at that as you know you fucked her good that she can barely move.

“Having problems?” You ask as you go to your side of the bad and she looks at you. 

“You gave me two intense orgasms.” She says and you smile.

“Good, that was the plan.” You tell her. 

“Jesus Christ.” She says and you chuckle. She then attempts to crawl again and is able to make it to her side of the bed before she collapses. “I can’t move.” She tells you as she’s still on her stomach and you know she wants to cuddle. You then help her roll over onto her back and cuddle into her side and she places a kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you.” She tells you after a few seconds. 

“For what? For the two orgasms?” You ask.

“Pretty much ya.” She says and you laugh. 

“You definitely needed it, everyone was asking why you were angry.” You tell her and she hums. “You should apologise to Ava for scaring the shit out of her this morning.” You add.

“I should, but I probably won’t.” She says and you wrap an arm around her waist. 

“I know you probably won’t, my fiery redhead.” You tell her and she winks at you.

The next morning Melissa walks into the break room humming a song that was on the radio and everyone looks at her as you go to make a coffee. Everyone sees her good mood and could guess what probably happened last night. 

“Feeling better Melissa?” Gregory asks her and Melissa looks at them.

“What?” She asks.

“You were a little angrier than normal yesterday.” Janine says.

“Was I? I didn’t notice.” She tells them before she turns to her phone and smirks at you. No one says anything else, and no one comments on the hickey that’s on her chest that wasn’t there yesterday.

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[timeslipcamp]

thoughts on episode 5

hotarubi!!! god this chapter was such a rollercoaster when i read it for the first time. the last like, ten chapters had me on the edge of my seat and i was texting my friends who had never even heard about the game lol

other than the dolls smh not a fan sorry zenji

spoilers through ep 17

like why did it have to be a doll 😭😭😭

anyways

love that this chapter opens up with romeo demanding things. mc working with sinostra is so funny she really can do it all. good for you girl be multi faceted!!

OH THE HOUSES omg i forgot how early we saw the info. look at her getting her research on. it's still wild to me that there were 10 (potentially 8 or 9) houses worth of gen students and they all managed to fit in five this year lmao. hope there was enough dorm rooms

moby does point out that hotarubi has a "pristine" reputation among the students and the professors. darkwicks pets much. no wonder haku transferred there.

alright wait hold on you're telling me ANYONE can use this 3D printer in the library to get a perfectly detailed layout of ANY place in darkwick??? 👀 oh boy if this isn't foreshadowing idk what it is then. like, any location???

dude rereading this chapter and knowing about zenji makes it ten times more sad lol like noticing the scene cuts and the lines....that plot twist was so well done. i SCREAMED when i read it the first time

also hotarubi is just so pretty???? like these are my fav aesthetics for suuuure

man im gonna start keeping a list of which ghouls get called handsome in canon lmao we've got what, jin twice over and haku? and the JANITOR lmaoo

once again wishing subaru was a lesbian...

mc bowing back is so funny dude i love her

LOVE how shifty subaru got when we explained why we were there. i know it might technically have to do with lyca but the way his expression dropped and got so serious for a moment...love it love the tense moment. also love that all the other inspectors quit lmao

haku why are you always taking walks dude what are you looking for

dude they really frame subaru's meetings with lyca as so shady 😂 the all black background, "it won't be long now," tkdb please. not to mention moby's warning of "the hotarubi ghouls are hiding something"

it's also fun to see haku step up and see how competant he is on missions, like no wonder darkwick trusts him. he gets shit done and looks great doing it!!

i really hate creepy dolls man. every once in a while this story reminds me it's horror based and i'm like oh yeah i'm a giant wimp!!! honestly i'm impressed i kept reading after episode 2 hahaha fuck that thing

when i say i screamed the first time i read this

anyways

"not even us ghouls understand our stigmas that well" this game makes me feel insane.

mc getting sleep paralysis right when zenji's trying to leave a note 😭 messenger boy at it again i love him. unintentionally freaky as hell

OH MY GOD DANTE AND ALANS MEETING IS THIS CHAPTER mc i love you, you peeping tom

"why are you alive" never change alan

hey wait. subaru's said a couple times that people suck more than anomalies and then that wickhive screenshot said they were dissidents during the clash. what happened between then and now that made them have such a "spotless" reputation with the staff?

COULD THE ABBOT SEE ZENJI????

"Why do you work so hard for everyone around you?" Haku: "There's someone I wanna help. Call it practice."

ughhhhh i love hotarubi chapters i love you haku

also once again, fuck darkwick for keeping so many anomalies locked up like this. absolutely insane. and this was ultio's gig?? oh wait lyca was at the romanian branch. ed is most likely from romania based on what he said in like ep 17 i think, do you think they were at the same facility? and then both ended up here? he did say his ideal life has a big loyal dog in it...

i really dont say this enough but props to lyca's voice actor for going in on the barking lmao i love it sm

"Special missions are classified. You can't tell anyone." how many secret missions have the other ghouls gone on? what did they have to do?

iris-colored eyes is an interesting way to describe subaru's eyes. that probably doesn't mean anything lmao that's a reach

so what do we think subaru was lying about? was it lying in general about lyca? or did lyca actually murder someone? was it something else about his special mission? EDIT nvm it was his stigma lmao

"i'm done suspecting people" says mc immediately before finding haku talking to that creepy doll

oh my god speaking of creepy 😭 i forgot about the ghost kids. brb while i get my post it notes to cover my screen while i read

i still would love to know which rogue anomaly killed zenji but nooooo haku said not to poke the hornet's nest. ugh. i want the clash details so bad i'm actually going to lose my mind whenever it finally happens, i won't shut up for WEEKS

also good to note that both tohma and haku have a skeleton key. and that subaru doesn't have to say his word at all, it just starts. the staff really knows nothing huh

LOVE LOVE LOVE that the first time we see haku with an actually mad expression is when subaru reveals he was lying to darkwick. "look where you're standing. you of all people should know better than this." haku has seen first hand what happens when ghouls become liabilities and subaru has seen lyca been locked up for less! he's still in here! haku has INTIMATE knowledge, especially after what he was implying in the prologue/chapter one around the rui conversation, of what happens to ghouls that disagree with darkwick. UGH ugh ugh haku im shaking you in a jar TELL ME ABOUT THE CLASH

so i spoke a little about haku's motivations in my traitor theory post but i'm almost kind of wondering now if haku became the traitor as like, a sacrificial move. like he fell on the wire so no one else would have to. he's mentioned a couple times in a few episodes and screen lines about how his family is a big deal but he's nothing special, always takes the easy way out, etc. maybe him making the play to become darkwick's puppet was his way of making up for that, that this is how he could finally do something big and worthwhile.

or he's just slimy, who knows.

anyways it made me so genuinely happy to see lyca being freed even if darkwick put that wack ass condition on it.

this chapter was such a whirlwind the whole way through and had one of the best plot twists i've seen in this game. love hotarubi so much and lyca deserves the WORLD. 10/10

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Where the Flowers Don't Grow - Chapter 20

Word Count: 12k not even gonna bother apologizing for this I cooked with this one and I'm proud of it

Warnings: grab your tissues shit's getting emotional pt.2.

Notes: Can't believe we're at the end already *tears up* We've still got the epilogue, though, so brace yourself for that one, it's gonna be emotional (again lol)!!!

Btw, if anyone has any idea for a bonus chapter you'd like to see for the life of these three in Jackson, don't hesistate and tell me because I'm not ready to say goodbye to them

Fic Masterlist

Morning light poured gently through the curtains, brushing pale gold across the floorboards of Faith’s room. She stirred slowly beneath the quilt, her limbs heavy with sleep but her chest felt—oddly, incredibly—light.

Lighter than yesterday. Lighter than she could remember feeling in a long, long time.

She blinked up at the ceiling, warm and cocooned in the stillness, then reached up with one hand to rake her fingers through her hair. Her breath caught, just a little, at the sensation.

Short. Soft. Free.

She exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering shut for a second. It still caught her off guard — how much lighter her head felt, how much lighter she felt. Like she'd snipped away the weight of the past inch by inch. Like she could finally breathe in a way that didn’t hurt.

A smile ghosted across her face.

With a quiet groan, Faith sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and stretching the sleep from her limbs. Her shoulder twinged a bit – a lot, really –, but nothing sharp. Manageable.

She didn’t bother putting on shoes and tugged on her hoodie before making her way downstairs, still rubbing at one bleary eye.

The house was quiet. Peaceful. She expected to find Joel already gone to patrol, he’d said he’d go in the morning after all, and maybe Ellie would be gone by now too — but when she stepped into the kitchen, she froze.

There, at the table, sat Ellie. And in front of her was… food. A whole spread of it.

Eggs, bread, fruit, even a couple of those weird sort of pre-war jam packets that were always gone within seconds at the hall. It looked like she'd tried to grab one of everything — like she wasn’t sure what Faith would want, so she’d just gotten it all.

Ellie glanced up as Faith stopped in the doorway. Her hands twitched like she wasn’t sure what to do with them, and for a second, she looked about two seconds from bolting.

“Uh,” Ellie started, rubbing her arm nervously. “So. I went to the food hall early. I can’t cook for shit, so—thought I’d just, y’know… raid the place.”

Faith just blinked.

“I… figured maybe we could have breakfast together,” Ellie added quickly, eyes darting down to the table. “After last night… If you want to.”

There was a pause — just a second or two. But in that pause was the ache of everything they’d been through, and the quiet joy of this moment. A quiet, uncertain offering.

Faith’s face cracked into a grin, so wide and warm it nearly stunned Ellie where she sat.

“Damn,” Faith said, already moving toward the table. “This is like, the nicest thing anyone’s done for me before nine a.m.”

Ellie snorted. “That’s a low bar.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not touched.”

She dropped into the chair across from Ellie, still smiling as she pulled a little jam packet toward her. “You got raspberry?” she asked, delighted.

“Didn’t know what you liked,” Ellie muttered, but she looked smug. “Took everything that wasn’t nailed down before anyone could stop me.”

Faith laughed softly, that lightness still blooming in her chest like something new.

Ellie had been nervous about all of… this. About leaving the Walkman in Faith’s room yesterday, to now the food and sitting down again like nothing had happened. But after days of thinking and overthinking everything, it felt surprisingly easy to sit down with Faith and have breakfast. Like deep down, she’d wanted to do it for a while. Ever since they first got to the house, really. She wanted that normalcy, the routine, the feeling of… being where she was meant to, with who she was meant to.

But that’s when the doubt crept up her spine into her mind, like a snake wrapping around a prey, hissing low and evil.

Because how could she want that? After everything?

After the Fireflies. After the hospital. After the lie. She’d trusted Joel so much, and he just… lied. He selfishly chose something for herself without giving her the chance to.

And then Faith. Faith had helped him. Had gotten her out, she even took a fucking bullet, but without ever giving her a say as well. They’d taken the decision from her hands – like they’d decided her fate wasn’t hers after all.

That had hurt.

But then they’d come to Jackson. Together. And every day since, Ellie had found herself watching them — Joel getting to know the house, helping Tommy around, and Faith walking slowly with her wounded shoulder, her hoodie always half-zipped, and her hair now cropped short like she’d shed a version of herself.

And Ellie wanted it. She wanted what they could have now, under this roof, what she’d dreamed of for a long while: a soft place to land. Shared meals. Stupid jokes. Sleepy mornings.

She hated herself for wanting it.

No — not hate. Not really.

She just didn’t know what to do with it. How to live in a house with people who’d broken her trust and still love them. How to sit across the table from Faith, from Joel, and want to be there so badly it physically hurt — while still carrying this heavy, messy, unresolved thing between them.

But she was tired of pretending she didn’t care. Of sitting upstairs alone every night like her silence would make the ache disappear.

And last night, she’d decided that if Faith was taking a step to recovery, maybe she could too. Because Ellie wanted to be there for her, and she needed someone for herself there as well.

So after their heartfelt reunion in the evening, she'd gotten up early. Filled a tray with food. Sat down at the table, heart in her throat, and waited.

And now here Faith was. Grinning at her. Like the world wasn’t made of cracks after all. And Ellie felt something crack open inside her, too — not the painful kind. The kind that let the light in.

They talked. They talked a lot.

Faith popped a piece of fruit into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully as Ellie told her about Dina and Jesse.

“Dina’s cool,” Ellie said around a bite of bread. “Met her at the stables while visiting Shimmer. She’s gotten like, so big, you should come see her,” her eyes lit up at the thought. “Anyways, I ended up helping Dina clean the stables, and I’ve kinda gotten sucked into chores there. Also help her out around laundry duty too. She’s funny. You’ll like her.” She smirked. “Jesse’s her friend. Kind of an idiot. But in a good way. He goes out patrolling with an older guy, Seth.”

Faith raised an eyebrow. “Wait, so you’ve been cleaning the stables the past week?”

Ellie scoffed, but it was more like a laugh. “That’s all you got?” she threw a grape at her, mid laugh. “Yeah, it ain’t that bad. For now, at least,” she shrugged. Ellie had been considering what other stuff she could do at Jackson, and something about going on patrol… It seemed kinda cool. Like something actually useful. She knew that help keep Jackson running was just as important, but she was more of a fan of action than stillness. She kept that thought to herself though, as she chewed on some bacon before raising her eyebrow at Faith. “How’s your week been?”

Faith leaned back a little, fingers resting lightly on her mug. “I’ve been drawing a lot,” she said, a bit shyly. “Started slow, copying some of my mom’s drawings from her journal. It’s kind of weird, but it helps. Clears my head.”

“You planning on finishing her journal?” she knew it still had a few blank pages to add descriptions about new plants and survival advice. Faith definitely had more than enough knowledge of her own to write down.

Faith just shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe I could add a few entries here and there, but I’ve been mostly painting what’s already in it. I hung some pictures up in my room, couldn’t stare any longer at four blank walls.”

Ellie smiled. “You better show me later.”

“I will.”

For a few moments, they just ate. Quiet, but not tense. The kind of quiet that came after two people had found their way back into orbit. Then, Faith looked up, her gaze lingering on Ellie just a second too long, and Ellie knew.

They were going to talk about it.

She sat her fork down. Didn’t say anything — just waited for her to tell her her version of the story.

Faith’s voice was soft when it came. “You know I never wanted to lie to you.”

Ellie nodded, but her eyes stayed on her plate.

“You never really did,” she said.

“I know,” Faith took a breath. “But I still… did what I did. You see, after the Fireflies took us down, they separated me from you and Joel. When they finally let me go back to him, Marlene told Joel what it would take to make the cure. That whatever they needed they had to take it from your brain. And that… It would’ve killed you.”

Ellie’s jaw twitched.

“And after—after all the loss, I couldn’t—” Her voice caught, just for a second. She blinked hard and kept going. “I couldn’t let them do that. I didn’t think. I just grabbed a rifle and… ran. Followed Joel to the OR. And I know that’s not what you wanted, I know it wasn’t fair, but—”

“You didn’t let me choose.” Ellie’s voice was flat, not angry exactly, just… tired.

Faith nodded. “I know.”

Ellie’s fingers tightened slightly around her mug. “Neither did Joel.”

“I know,” Faith said again. “But Ellie, Joel… he lost his daughter twenty years ago. He held you in that hospital bed, and he—he couldn’t lose you too. And I didn’t just help him because of Dahlia. I helped him because I—because I care about you. I wasn’t gonna let them kill you.”

Ellie stared at the table for a long moment.

Then, finally: “Do you think they would’ve let me choose if you two hadn’t been there?”

Faith’s brow furrowed.

Ellie looked up. “Marlene. The Fireflies. Do you think they would’ve told me what it would cost before they put me under, if I had gotten to Salt Lake with Marlene like she intended in the first place? After months on the road, getting to know each other like we have… Do you think they would’ve let me choose?”

Faith hesitated. But she knew her answer.

“… No,” she said quietly.

“Yeah.” Ellie gave a humourless little laugh. “Me neither.”

She dragged her sleeve across her nose, then shrugged lightly. “It’s not fair. I wanted to help. I still want to. But I’m also… still here. And I’m glad I’m not fucking dead. Which feels fucked up to say. Like, really fucked up. ‘Cause maybe the world would be better off if I had just—if they had –”

“Don’t,” Faith said sharply, eyes flashing. Ellie stopped, startled. “You don’t get to say that,” Faith said, softer this time. “You are not a sacrifice. You’re a person. You are just fourteen, Ellie.”

“And I am immune.”

“And they didn’t know if it would work,” Faith cut in. “Marlene said they thought they could make something. But they didn’t even know. They were gambling with your life.”

“What if I wanted to gamble?”

“We’ll never know what would’ve happened, then,” it was a hard truth, but the truth nonetheless. They couldn’t play it back. They couldn’t go back in time and ask Ellie, back in the hospital in Salt Lake, if she was willing to give up her own life to make a cure, even with everything she’d dreamed of doing once said cure would exist. Faith’s eyes glistened. “… But we didn’t.”

That silenced them both.

Ellie looked away, biting the inside of her cheek.

“I get it,” she said eventually. “I really do. I get why you did it. Why Joel lied, too.”

She exhaled slowly.

“I’m still angry,” she added, voice thin. “I don’t know if that goes away. But I think I understand.”

Faith looked down at her plate, blinking back heat in her eyes.

Ellie cleared her throat. “And now we’re here. In Jackson. And I’m alive. And Joel’s… Joel. And you’re drawing. And we have a kitchen. And breakfast. And I want a dog, which is super fucking crazy because I’ve never wanted a dog, but now it feels like the right time to think about wanting to have a dog, you know? Because I could have one now.”

She gave a crooked smile. “And it’s really fucking weird, because I dreamed about this. Like, having a place. A house. A life. And now that I’m in it, all I wanna do is scream half the time.”

Faith snorted. “That’s the most Ellie thing I’ve ever heard.”

Ellie laughed, rubbing her eyes. “Shut up.”

Faith leaned forward, voice gentler now. “You’re allowed to feel all of it, you know. Angry. Guilty. Happy. It’s not one or the other.”

Ellie met her eyes, something soft and raw flickering in them.

“You’re actually pretty wise for a sixteen year old,” she said, smug smirk on her lips.

Faith scoffed, again like Ellie before, half laughing. “Well, thanks, you’re not so bad for a fourteen year old yourself” they laughed, and when their shoulders were still shaking from the laughter, Faith’s eyes turned softer again. “Thanks for… this. The breakfast. The talk. The tape last night. It means a lot.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but she smiled back, small and real.

“Told you I’d find you a song,” she shrugged, like it was nothing. “Just had to find the right one.”

They sat a moment longer, comfortable again, in the way only people who’ve gone to hell and back together can be. The sun poured through the window, golden and warm.

“So… what’s next?” Ellie asked.

“As for me and you… We’re good?” Faith asked back, hopeful.

Ellie nodded instantly. “We’re good.”

And she meant it.

Faith’s eyes lit up like the morning sun. “How about we take a walk to the stables? After everything you’ve told me, now I wanna go see Shimmer again, too. And maybe I could meet Dina and Jesse if they’re around?”

“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed, smiling.

Faith slowly stood, stretching carefully. Her shoulder gave a small protest, but she waved it off with a deep breath. “Though… please don’t tell Joel I’ve gone out on another long walk when I should be laying down on the couch like a cadaver and letting my shoulder rest.”

Ellie smirked, standing too and grabbing both their plates. “Guess I could start snitching now, huh?”

Faith narrowed her eyes, playful. “Ellie…”

“Relax,” Ellie muttered, leaving the dishes in the sink. “It’s not exactly like I’m in the habit of chatting with him these days, anyways.”

Faith’s smile faded into something gentler, something that lingered. “You should, though.”

Ellie glanced over. “Where is he at, anyways?” she asked, a little guarded now. “He was already out when I went out for breakfast.”

“On patrol, with Tommy,” Faith said. “To get to know the area, or something like that. To spend time with him, too, I guess,” she shrugged. “And I mean it,” she added, her voice quiet but steady. “You and him still have a lot to talk about. And I know he’s not good at this kind of things. You know, feelings. But he’s been… missing you. Even if he won’t say it.”

Ellie looked away, jaw tight. “Yeah. I know. I’ve been missing him, too.” she said again, this time almost whispering. “That’s the whole fucking problem.”

Faith nodded slowly, stepping closer to gently nudge Ellie’s elbow with her good arm. “Then maybe start there.”

They stood together for a beat in the silence, the hum of the quiet house wrapping around them like a blanket.

Ellie breathed in deep.

“Okay,” she said finally. “Maybe I will.”

Faith smiled and bumped her again. “Let’s go see your horse, Hawthorn Berry.”

“Dude, that nickname is still so lame.”

“I like it, suck it up.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

(…)

The trail was quiet under the soft clop of hooves, a breeze threading gently through the trees as Joel and Tommy rode side by side. Gone were the snowdrifts and biting winds of winter — in their place came soft earth, patchy wildflowers, and the bright promise of warmer days.

Their group — half a dozen riders, including a young boy Joel hadn’t met yet named Jesse, alongside an older man named Seth and a few other Jackson regulars — had taken the Cache Creek route, the easiest of the patrol loops. It was more a formality these days. The area had been quiet for weeks. No signs of infected, no raiders, just open woods and the occasional deer trail cutting across the path. But it was a good start to get to know the area and how patrol worked.

Tommy tilted his head up toward the sky, squinting at the way sunlight filtered through the budding branches. “Feels good out here today,” he said. The weather was nice. The route was peaceful. It was nice to get some movement going. From up there, the view resembled a Bob Ross landscape painting.

Joel gave a grunt of agreement, his eyes scanning the treeline as always. Even in peace, he couldn’t relax fully. Force of habit, really.

They reached a gentle ridge, where the trees parted just enough to catch a view of Jackson in the distance — snug between the hills. Joel slowed his horse and nodded for Tommy to stop.

They stood there a moment, horses shifting quietly beneath them, the town spread out below like something out of a painting.

“Place looks peaceful from up here,” Joel said.

Tommy nodded, resting his forearms on the saddle horn. “It’s not bad, huh? Crops’re going in. Maria’s already yellin’ about the potatoes.”

Joel huffed a faint laugh. “Sounds like her.”

Tommy glanced sideways. “How’re the girls?”

Joel hesitated, thumb brushing the worn leather reins. “Faith’s sleepin’ better. Shoulder still gives her hell when she tries to do too much, but she’s stubborn. Been drawin’ a lot, too. Helps her wind down.”

Tommy nodded. “That’s good.”

Joel looked down at the town again. “Ellie… still distant. Feels like she’s carryin’ a thousand things and won’t put any of it down.”

Tommy blew out a breath. “I’ve seen her around. She’s been hangin’ with that Dina girl — works in the stables. She’s a good kid. Seen them together every day the past week. Jesse’s been hangin’ around with ‘em, too.”

Joel blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. They’d be hauling hay and bitchin’ about the smell like they’d known each other for years. Girl’s got a sharp tongue, but she’s found people. She’s tryin’, Joel.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. He just stared at Jackson, jaw tight, something unreadable passing behind his eyes.

When he finally spoke, it was low and rough.

“Sometimes I look at her… and I think about Sarah.” He paused for a few seconds. Tommy didn’t push him. “Not all the time,” Joel continued, “but in the way she would joke around, or how she looks at me when she’s annoyed — like she’s tryin’ to decide if I’m full of shit or if I’m making some sense at all. It just… it hits me outta nowhere. I keep thinkin’ — I lost one daughter, Tommy. And it made me feel… like I’d died with ‘er. It almost killed me for real. I can’t lose another one now, too”

His voice wavered slightly, and he cleared his throat like it physically pained him to say the words.

“I know she ain’t mine like Sarah was, but… she feels like mine. Both of them. After all the shit we’ve been through the past year… It’s hard not to see them as nothin’ else than mine.”

Tommy’s expression softened. “They are, Joel. In all the ways that count.”

Joel looked away, nodding slowly, but his brow was still furrowed, his grip tight on the reins.

“I just don’t wanna mess it up,” he muttered. “I already did. With that fucking lie. With everything that happened at that hospital. She’s still angry. I don’t blame her. I get it. Doesn’t help that she’s fourteen and I’m her –” he stopped himself, not sure if referring to himself as Ellie’s… as that, to her, was alright, even though he clearly felt as such. “What I am. No one likes their parents at that age.”

“You can’t be so hard on yourself for –”

“The thing is, I try,” he added. “I know I’m a hardass and maybe overprotective and she’s… her. But I try. I know what I did. I know it was wrong. I try to show her that I’m here for her, for the both of them, but I just don’t know how to… make things okay again, like they used to be.”

Tommy let the silence sit a while before nudging Joel’s arm gently. “Exactly like this. You’re here now. Still are. You’ll be there when she’s ready. She sees all that, for sure. I bet before you know it, you’ll talk it out — and you’ll be back to having two teenagers under your roof, rolling their eyes at ya’. Just wait and see.”

Joel managed a small laugh, the kind that flickered out quick but still counted. He glanced down again at Jackson, then back at Tommy.

“Gracias, little brother.”

Tommy smiled. “De nada, big brother.”

“Hey, uh… about December,” Joel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “When you told me about Maria. The baby. I didn’t… say the right thing.”

Tommy raised a brow. “Yeah, well… It’s all right.”

Joel grimaced. “No, it isn’t. I didn’t know what to say. Wasn’t ‘cause I wasn’t happy for you. I was just…” he hesitated. “Too damn many bad memories that wouldn’t let myself think about anything good, y’know?”

Tommy softened. “I get it.”

Joel nodded slowly. “But I am happy for you, Tommy. Truly. You’re gonna be a good dad.”

Tommy smiled at that, a little crooked, yet sincere —he appreciated the words, the apology, truly.

“Well,” he said, “I’ve got a pretty decent example to learn from.”

Joel glanced sideways. “Who, me?”

“Hell no. Maria.”

Joel laughed — for real this time — and Tommy grinned at the sound.

Behind them, Seth called out from down the trail, “Y’all planning on finishing this patrol or starting a damn picnic?”

Tommy cupped a hand around his mouth. “Patience, old man!”

Joel shook his head, nudging his horse forward. “C’mon. Let’s get this done.”

Tommy laughed as they rode on, hooves soft on the spring-warmed earth.

(…)

That evening, Jackson was celebrating.

The apocalypse had taken so much from everyone’s life’s, that whenever there was a reason to celebrate anything, they took it.

This time, it was a couple celebrating their wedding anniversary. Thirty seven years of marriage, resisting through sickness, health and a freakin’ apocalypse. A great example of resilience, that one. Their names were Gail and Eugene.

The town hall had been decorated with whatever they had on hand—strands of white bulbs zigzagging overhead as per usual, faded yet still in great condition bunting hanging by the windows, and a small corner stage where a local band tuned their instruments to play covers of almost forgotten songs and folk tunes to dance to. People were smiling. Someone had even baked an array of cakes for the celebration.

Maria arrived with Faith and Ellie, the three of them slipping into the flow of bodies moving around the hall.

Faith’s long summer dress moved easily around her legs, the hem swaying with each step. She wasn’t used to clothes fancy as this dress, in fact, she was sure she’d never even worn a dress through her entire life. It wasn’t the most practical, but it had pockets, and the fabric wasn’t itchy. And she felt good. She’d liked what she’d seen in the mirror after putting it on, smiling at how… different she looked. But it a good way. Like someone she was starting to like more and more each day.

She wore a denim jacket though, hiding the bandage beneath on her shoulder; if no one noticed or pointed it out, she could forget about it for a while – this is, when she wasn’t wincing in pain… but the painkillers did their job nicely – and as long as she didn’t make any harsh movements she’d be fine. Ellie, next to her, was in jeans, a clean shirt, and a flannel she’d clearly put effort into picking. Her hair was in its usual ponytail, and she looked sharp as she could get.

“This is the nicest I’ve looked in, like, ever,” Ellie muttered under her breath as they entered, tugging at the sleeve of her flannel. “And you look like... an actual person who goes to actual dances.”

Faith laughed softly, bumping their shoulders, with her good one, of course. “You look good. Flannel formal. It’s a vibe.”

Maria glanced back at them with an amused look. “Just don’t get any ideas about sneaking drinks,” she said, pointing between them.

The girls looked at each other and just laughed.

The music picked up as they made their way in. Kids ran across the wooden floor in a blur, and older couples danced slow in the middle of the hall. Others stood around the edges, laughing, catching up, plates of food in hand. It was loud, it was warm, and for a second, Faith felt like she was in a different world entirely.

Like nothing bad had ever happened.

She didn’t mind the loud noises, neither the many people around her. For once, it felt good to be surrounded by so many new faces. So much laughter. So much love.

Ellie caught sight of Jesse talking to a group by the punch bowl and Dina nearby laughing at something one of the band members had said. Ellie hesitated for half a second when she saw them, then relaxed. Faith didn’t say anything, just gave her a nudge of encouragement.

“Go,” she said. “I’ll find something to drink. Non-alcoholic,��� she added quickly, when Maria raised a brow.

Ellie smirked and wandered off toward her friends. Faith and Maria found a spot near the wall, close enough to watch the dancing but far enough not to be in the way.

“You okay?” Maria asked quietly, offering her a glass of lemonade.

Faith nodded. “Yeah. Actually… yeah.”

Maria studied her for a second, then nodded back. “Good. You deserve a night like this. All of you.”

Faith sipped her drink and let her eyes wander the room. Joel wasn’t there yet, but she figured he’d show. Tommy was yet to arrive, too, and she was sure he’d show up, draggin’ Joel with him.

And in the end, Joel did end up showing. He and Tommy arrived a bit later, just as the sun had dipped enough to bathe the town hall in soft warm light through the high windows.

They’d come off patrol around midday—an easy ride down the Cache Creek route, nothing but wide open views and a few grazing elk in the distance. Joel had eaten lunch over at Tommy’s, mostly in silence. He hadn’t seen the girls all day, though he’d found a short note in the kitchen from Faith written in a hurried, looping script:

We’re at the stables. Ellie’s with me!!! Maria came over and told us there’ll be a party later at the town hall. We’ll meet you there! Don’t be weird :)

– F.

He’d huffed at that, but smiled nonetheless. He’d quickly showered and then spent the rest of the afternoon at the repair shop, elbow-deep in a busted generator that someone swore was making a ‘ghostly hum’. It wasn’t. Just a loose belt. But it kept his hands busy, his mind focused.

That was until Tommy came looking for him, arms crossed and tapping his boot impatiently on the workshop floor.

“You’re not skippin’ out on this,” he said. He knew Joel would try to avoid it, he had never been the kind to go to social events. “Maria’ll be there, the girls too. And I’m not lettin’ you hide behind a pile of wires all damn night.”

Joel tried grumbling. It didn’t work. Ten minutes later, they were walking up the hall steps side by side.

The sound of laughter and music spilled out the open doors. Joel paused in the entryway, blinking at the sight. Strings of lights swayed gently overhead, casting a warm glow across dancing couples, chatting friends, and tables full of food. The scent of fresh bread, something fried, and sweet cake lingered in the air.

Tommy clapped him on the back. “C’mon, old man. At least grab a drink before you start brooding.”

Inside, it didn’t take long for Tommy to spot Maria. She was sitting with Faith, both of them holding lemonades and chatting quietly.

Tommy lifted his hand and waved. Maria waved back with a smile, then nudged Faith, who glanced over. Joel’s eyes caught hers and she smiled at him brightly. The summer dress she wore caught the light as she shifted. That and her smile… A single thought crossed through his mind: she looked beautiful.

Tommy grabbed them each a cold beer, handing it to him with enthusiasm. “There. Now you don’t have an excuse to bail.” He tilted his bottle toward the dance floor. “See them? Gail and Eugene. Thirty-seven years, would you believe it?”

Joel followed his gaze. The couple was slow dancing in the middle of the floor, Gail resting her head on Eugene’s shoulder, the two of them moving in rhythm like no one else existed.

“Guess it’s possible, after all,” Tommy said, more quietly.

Joel said nothing, just took a drink.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the people move. Joel’s eyes flicked around the room almost instinctively. Some already familiar faces, still many unfamiliar ones. And then—

He saw her.

Ellie. Across the hall, by the food table with Jesse and who he guessed was Dina. Her laugh carried over the music, sharp and unguarded. She tossed her head back and bumped her shoulder against Jesse’s like she’d done it a thousand times before. Dina handed her a piece of cake and Ellie made a show of rolling her eyes but accepted it anyway.

She looked... okay.

Happy, even.

Tommy noticed. “They seem at ease, huh?,” he said. “I think it’s good for her. Keeps her from wallowing too much.”

Joel nodded. “You kept on eye on her, then?”

“Yeah, I told you. She’s been busy. But you know teenagers. Don’t like bein’ checked on too much. I think she noticed me lurking after the second time we accidentally bumped into one another on the first day.”

They both fell quiet again, letting the atmosphere settle around them. The band was tuning into another song, some upbeat thing that got more feet moving across the creaky wooden floor. Joel’s eyes drifted back to Ellie, still by the table, licking frosting off her finger while Dina teased her about something. Jesse leaned in, chiming in with a grin that made Ellie roll her eyes again—but he could tell it wasn’t in a mean way.

Joel looked at Tommy, brows twitching with thought. “That girl… Dina? She’s her friend, then?”

Tommy smirked a little. “Yeah. Dina. She’s sharp. Smart, funny. Bit of a firecracker, too. I like her.”

Joel nodded slowly, but he didn’t say anything else. Not at first. He was about to ask something else about Jesse now when his gaze shifted across the room again—past the dancers, past the crowd gathered near the buffet—back to where Maria and Faith were sitting.

Except now, it wasn’t just Maria and Faith anymore.

There was a boy there.

Joel’s shoulders tensed almost immediately. He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to make out who he was. He wasn’t sure he’d seen him before, though he’d only been in Jackson for a week, so he didn’t really know many people yet. From the look of him—brown hair a bit tousled, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, a button-up shirt that was probably his best—it was obvious he was about Faith’s age, or around Jesse’s. He was saying something to her, and she looked up at him with polite interest.

Tommy noticed the shift in posture immediately—the way Joel went quiet, the slight lean forward like he was assessing a threat on patrol.

He followed Joel’s gaze, spotted the kid, and had to bite back a grin.

“Oh no,” he said, dragging the words out with mock dread. “What’s wrong now?”

“Who’s that?” Joel asked, like the words had to be pulled out of him. His eyes hadn’t moved.

Tommy blinked. “What, the kid with Maria and Faith?”

Joel didn’t answer. Just gave him a look.

Tommy snorted, leaning back a little to better enjoy this. “You mean the one talking to them? Using his voice and everythin’? Not carryin’ a weapon? Looks like he might be allergic to confrontation?” Joel said nothing, and Tommy kept going. “That’s Owen. Been here a few years now. Helps out with the livestock and the greenhouses, mostly. Good kid.”

Joel’s brow didn’t relax. Tommy squinted at him sideways, chewing the inside of his cheek, trying real hard not to start laughing.

“You wanna interview him?” he asked innocently. “Ask for his résumé? Make him take a lie detector?”

Joel grunted.

“Hell,” Tommy went on, enjoying himself now, “you want me to go over there and tell Maria to make Faith come sit ten feet away from all male lifeforms just in case?”

Joel took a long, steady sip of his beer. Still didn’t say anything. His jaw was set.

Tommy chuckled. Loudly. “Man, I forgot how fun this could be.”

Joel finally cut him a sideways glare. “Ain’t funny.”

“Sure it is.”

“She’s just…” Joel hesitated. “She’s been real quiet about that kind of stuff. She’s been… jumpy. Around people. Especially men. You’ve seen it yourself. I just—”

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy said gently, following his gaze. “But Maria’s right there. She’s not gonna let some asshole bother her. And look at Faith. She ain’t flinchin’, is she?”

Joel glanced over again. Faith was saying something now, gesturing slightly with her good arm, a bit of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. The boy—Owen—nodded, and said something that made Faith laugh and Maria smirk behind her glass. Whatever tension Joel had expected to see in Faith’s body… it wasn’t there. Maria looked relaxed, too—no warning flags, no subtle body blocks. Just easy conversation.

Joel exhaled, though it wasn’t quite a sigh. “He better not be an idiot.”

Tommy raised his bottle again. “Odds are fifty-fifty. He’s still a teenager.”

Joel gave him another sideways look.

Tommy grinned. “C’mon. Let her talk to a boy without you hoverin’ like a spooked bear. At least wait ‘til he trips over somethin’. Then you can judge.”

Joel let out a quiet huff, shaking his head, but the tension in his shoulders had eased just a little.

Tommy’s voice softened. “She looks alright, Joel.”

Joel was quiet for a moment. Then: “Yeah. I know.”

Tommy let that sit. But a second later, just for good measure, he nudged Joel in the ribs. “Still funny watchin’ you spiral like this, though.”

Joel scowled. “Ain’t spiral.”

“You are. You got the spiral stance.”

“Shut up.”

Tommy chuckled into his drink. “Alright, alright. But I’m tellin’ Maria you almost interrogated a teenager for making polite conversation.”

Joel grumbled something into his bottle that sounded suspiciously like ‘kiss my ass’, and Tommy just kept laughing. Faith glanced up at that moment, caught Joel’s eye, and gave a little wave. He raised his bottle in reply. She turned back to Owen with a small smile, brushing a bit of hair behind her ear timidly.

Oh boy, she liked him.

She probably didn’t even realize she was doing it. But Joel did. Maybe she really was okay, or at least, starting to be okay again. She was definitely getting there. And maybe tonight, Joel could just let her be a teenage girl smiling back at a teenage boy smiling at her, too.

(…)

The party had started to thin out by the time they slipped away — Faith clutching three leftover cookies in a napkin and Ellie swinging her flannel over one arm, the other one linked with Faith’s like it was the most natural thing in the world, and by now, it was.

It wasn’t late-late yet, but the streets were mostly empty, wrapped in that blue, in-between kind of quiet. Fireflies blinked lazily in the bushes, and the distant buzz of a generator somewhere far off hummed low. The sky stretched dark and clear above them, stars scattered like sugar on a navy blue canvas.

“– and then Dina laughed so hard she spit out all the lemonade in her mouth,” Ellie said, laughing herself. “Through her nose!”

Faith grimaced. “Dude, that’s like, disgusting.”

“It was!” she kept laughing. “But also funny. Jesse laughed too. It was an amazing pun so, I’m not really surprised.”

“Which pun did you tell them?”

“The one about grapes you liked,” she said. “It’s awesome.”

“It is,” Faith nodded, laughing to herself.

Ellie bumped Faith with her elbow then, suddenly serious. “Okay. Spill.”

Faith blinked, clueless. “Spill what?”

“You know what.” Ellie grinned. “Who was the boy you were talking to?”

“Oh,” she said. “His name’s Owen. He works in the greenhouses. He came to tell Maria something about the potatoes they’ve started growing, and we started to chat about harvests and watering systems.”

“Wow, that definitely sounds like the most boringly romantic thing to talk about.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “Shut up. He also mentioned they’ve got strawberries coming in soon. He said I could come take a look sometime, if I wanted to.”

Ellie gasped, dragging the word out dramatically. “Strawberries? That’s it. It’s love.”

“Oh my God—”

“Nope. This is serious. A boy offering strawberries? That has to be like… marriage in Jackson.”

Faith laughed so hard she nearly dropped the cookies. “Ellie—!”

“I’m just saying, that’s a high-value fruit. Man’s pulling out the good stuff.”

Faith tried to look unimpressed, but the pink creeping up her neck wasn’t doing her any favours. “He was just being nice. That’s all.”

“Mm-hmm. So, when’s the big strawberry date at the greenhouse? I’m sure Maria could find you some make up. Although the lipstick will probably get smudged, anyways.”

“Please stop talking.”

But she was laughing, full and bright, and it echoed down the road like a sound the town hadn’t heard in a while.

They walked on in the easy hush that came after a joke, steps slowing as the familiar turn into Rancher Street came into view. The porch lights of each house glowed soft and golden. A dog barked somewhere in the distance, and a cat darted across someone’s yard, tail flicking.

And then—

“Look,” Faith murmured.

Their house. Porch light on. And Joel, sitting out front in the old wooden rocking chair, legs stretched out, one hand cradling a warm mug. He’d left a bit earlier, when it wasn’t fully nighttime yet. When they spotted him there, they saw he wasn’t reading, wasn’t doing anything at all—just sitting. Watching. Waiting.

When he heard their footsteps, his head turned. He stood before either of them could speak.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft in the night air. “Was wonderin’ when you two’d turn in.”

Faith smiled. “We didn’t mean to stay out so long, sorry.”

Joel shook his head. “It’s okay, you were having fun.” His gaze scanned over them—no panic in it, just that low, quiet kind of concern he never said out loud. “I just like knowin’ you’re home.”

Faith lifted the napkin she was carrying like a prize. “We brought cookies.”

Ellie stayed quiet beside her, smiling, but Joel could tell it was a little thinner than usual. He glanced at her, but didn’t push.

“Alright,” he said, stepping aside so they could pass. “Go on and get some sleep. I’ll stay out here a little longer.”

“You sure?” Faith asked.

“Yeah. Just for a while.” He shrugged, clutching his mug between his hands. “Sleep tight”.

Fatih gave a small nod, wishing him goodnight as well, and she walked up the porch steps and inside, followed by a still silent Ellie.

The house door clicked shut behind them, sealing the light in. For a few seconds, they stood just inside the front hallway, taking their shoes off—it was a bit cooler now, quieter, like the walls were already asleep.

Faith turned to hang her jacket on the hook by the door. Then she looked back at Ellie: she was still standing there, arms crossed, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Faith didn’t say anything right away. Just tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

Ellie glanced toward the door again. Then back at her. Faith nodded once, understanding, encouraging. “Go.”

Ellie’s mouth pulled into a sheepish little smile. “Thanks.”

Faith just gave her a gentle nudge and turned to walk upstairs to her room, meanwhile Ellie hesitated for a second, and then turned back, cracked open the door, and stepped outside.

The screen door creaked faintly. Joel looked up from the rocking chair again.

Ellie walked out to the porch slowly, uncertain steps guiding her to the railing, where she rested her hands to steady them before he could notice they were shaking a bit. She watched the street, silent like herself, and she finally heard Joel standing up, walking to stand a few feet to her right while sipping on his mug.

“What are you drinking?”

She broke her silence with a silly question, really, but she couldn’t think of anything better to start than that.

Joel put his mug down, wiping his lips, surprised. “Coffee.”

Ellie frowned, still not turning to see him. “Isn’t that like… for the mornings? So to not fall asleep?”

“Yeah, uh… Usually, yes. Guess I’ve just had enough of it that it doesn’t affect me anymore,” he said, a bit nervous, a bit unsteady. “It’s more of a comfort thing, I suppose.”

He set the mug down on the railing, and put a hand on the banister as well. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy. Not quite. But it wasn’t easy either.

Joel watched her from the corner of his eye — the way she leaned on the railing, shoulders tense under the porch light, hands fidgeting with the hem of the flannel she’d put back on. He hated that he didn’t know what to say. Not even after the week they’d spent barely speaking.

But she’d come out here. That meant something. It had to, right?

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I saw you earlier. Over at the hall.”

Ellie blinked and glanced at him briefly. “And?”

He nodded, eyes back on the street. “You were sittin’ with those two kids. Girl with dark hair. Boy with that, uh… kinda ridiculous beanie. Dina and Jesse?”

She nodded, surprised. “Dina and Jesse.”

“Right,” Joel said. “Seemed nice. I mean, from where I was standin’.” A pause. “Saw Dina laughin’ real hard at somethin’. Thought she was gonna choke.”

“She almost did,” Ellie said, grinning in spite of herself. “Jesse had to smack her back.”

Joel smiled faintly at that. Then, quieter, more genuine: “They good folks?”

Ellie nodded without looking at him.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “They are.”

He nodded slowly too, hands still braced on the railing. “Glad to hear it.”

Another beat of quiet. Then Joel added, gentler this time, “It’s good. That you got people here. People your age. Who make you laugh.”

Ellie’s smile faltered just slightly, something softer flickering underneath it. “Yeah. It’s… weird, but good.”

Joel gave a small hum of agreement, letting the moment settle.

“I know it ain’t been the easiest lately,” he said suddenly, low. “And you’ve got… every right to be mad.”

Ellie blinked, caught off guard. But she didn’t interrupt.

Joel exhaled. “I just want you to know… I’m still here. You ever wanna talk, or just sit out here like this. I’m around. You can ask me whatever you want and I… I’ll tell you the truth. Promise.”

Ellie looked at him again, a little surprised, a little touched. Her throat worked, and she gave a small, awkward nod.

He didn’t push for more. Didn’t have to.

They had already talked about what had happened at the hospital, sort of. She’d asked him and Faith that one night almost a week ago, so there wasn’t really much to ask. Just… a lot that hadn’t been said.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked him, suddenly.

Joel looked at her surprised, meeting her eyes, and nodded in a second. “Yeah, sure. Anythin’.”

Ellie took a shaky breath, and said: “You’re… such an asshole.”

Okay, that hurt.

But he kept still, accepting it. Whatever she’d throw at him… he’d take it. He knew he deserved it. Everything she was thinking about him, he probably was thinking it about himself, too.

“You lied to me,” she continued. “After everything that happened, you lied. When I was still half drugged, and later when I was okay again and asked you to swear what you had said was true, you were gonna do it again. You had the same look. If Faith hadn’t said anything… You’d had done it, again, lookin’ me in the eye.”

She paused, taking a deeper breath.

“But I think I knew already. The whole time. That’s why… Guess that’s why I even asked you about it again. Maybe I just didn’t wanna think of it, or maybe I wanted to believe it. A part of me still does. But it’s not only about what you said, it’s about what you did. You took the choice from me. The one choice that could’ve made my life matter.”

Joel shook his head vehemently. “Don’t say that. Your life matters so much more than –”

“But it doesn’t!” she snapped. “Why the fuck am I like this then? Fucking immune to something everyone else is vulnerable too. If I can’t help anyone with it, all of this will only end one way: with me alone.” and that was what scared her the most. She wiped away a fallen tear furiously, sniffling. “Were there really others? Other immune people?”

Joel took a second, but he shook his head no. There was no one else.

“Faith said there were no raiders, so… everyone in the hospital…” She didn’t need to finish the question. Had they killed them? He simply nodded, sticking to silence, words too painful to say out loud. “… And Marlene?”

Another nod.

“Making a cure… would’ve killed you.”

“Then I was supposed to die!” she cried. “That was my purpose! Everything I’ve done would’ve fucking mattered! But you took that from me!” she didn’t wipe the tears away anymore, she let them fall freely. She was having such a nice night… and now she was crying again. “You took it from everyone.”

She’d already made her peace with Faith. Deep down, she had also made her peace with Joel. But she had to tell him this. Had to express her fury, her anger, her doubts and her pain.

“I did,” he muttered, voice choked by his own tears. “And I’ll pay the price, if you decide to… turn away from me. I just hope… you don’t turn away from Faith. The both of you… you need each other. You’re better, together.”

Ellie shook her head, still crying. No, she wouldn’t turn away from Faith, never again. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Joel said, barely a whisper. “I know… I know what I did was wrong. To you, and to everyone else. But if somehow I had a second chance at that moment… I would do it all over again.”

She knew what she was thinking wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t stop her words before they spit out like daggers at him. “Because you’re selfish.”

Ellie regretted saying that out loud when she saw the hurt in Joel’s eyes. She knew it wasn’t like that. Hell, Faith had told her the exact same thing, and she knew her reasons weren’t selfish. It was because she couldn’t lose her, too, like she’d lost her sister. And Joel, he couldn’t lose her because he’d already lost his daughter. Because after months of travelling together, after overcoming death multiple times side by side, holding onto one another as if letting go would mean to lose… They loved each other.

“Maybe I am,” he said, words cracked by the tears. “The world would be different by now if I had just let them…“ he couldn’t say it out loud. Kill you. The mere thought of it made him want to vomit. “But even with a cure, with you gone… My world would’ve just stopped, all over again.”  

And that was it. The final crack they needed.

Ellie’s breath hitched, and her knees gave out before she could stop them. She dropped down to the porch floor with a strangled sob. Her hands came up to her face, but they weren’t fast enough to hide it. She cried — no longer just angry, no longer guarded. Her whole body shook with it. Shame. Grief. Guilt so deep it felt like it was rotting her from the inside out.

Joel knelt instantly to her, stopping just an inch before touching her, conflicted between wanting to hold her and not wanting to overstep what was left of her trust.

“I hate this,” she gasped. “I hate that it’s like this now. That I can’t stop thinking about what I could’ve done, what I should’ve done.”

Joel didn’t move yet. He just listened, eyes stinging.

“I hate that I love being here, with you. With Faith. In this place. I hate that I laugh. That I eat and sleep and smile sometimes like—like it’s okay. Like I’m okay.” Her voice cracked, eyes red and wild as she looked up at him. “Because I’m not. I think about it all the time. That I could’ve done something that mattered. Something important. Like Sally Fucking Ride and all the other heroes I’ve always looked up to. That I could’ve saved people. But instead I’m just…” she swallowed hard, her throat raw, “I’m just alive.”

“You didn’t ask for this,” he said softly. “But you’re still here. That ain’t a mistake, Ellie. You don’t have to feel guilty for being alive.”

She shook her head, still sobbing. “Then why do I feel so fucking selfish for being happy with what you did?” they’d killed people, taken the world’s only chance at a cure… and she was fine with it. Because she was selfish, too. Even when by staying alive, she had saved two people. Only two. The only two that mattered to her.

Joel reached out, slow and careful, until his hands found her shoulders. “Because you care. Because you got a heart so big it’s tearing you apart from the inside out.”

Her face crumpled at that.

And she couldn’t hold herself back anymore.

Ellie lunged forward, throwing her arms around him with a broken cry. Joel caught her, pulling her close like it was the most natural thing in the world. One hand cradled the back of her head, fingers weaving gently into her hair, while the other wrapped around her shoulders and held her like he might never get to again.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, pressing his cheek to her temple. “I got you, baby girl. It’s okay… It’s okay.”

She sobbed harder at the nickname. The warmth of it. The familiarity. The weight of being held like that —safe, steady, forgiven – like she’d never been held before meeting him, in a way she never wanted it to stop.

They stayed there for a long while, porch light flickering above them. Joel didn’t say anything else, because there wasn’t anything left to say. He just held her, until her tears slowed, until her breathing steadied, until the worst of the storm had passed.

And even when it did… he still didn’t let go. He never would. And she’d never ask him to.

(…)

Tommy was up early, like always, off to his duties. He’d kissed Maria goodbye in their kitchen, leaving her there contently eating breakfast as he got out the door. Some neighbours greeted him on his way to the stables, boots crunching softly over fresh grass as he passed the greenhouses, waving at Owen and a few others already working there.

He entered the stables already expecting to find Elle there, as he’d gotten used to seeing her there first thing in the morning — brushing down Shimmer and the other horses, checking tack, helping around Dina. But this morning, the barn was quiet. No quick footsteps. No muttered swearing at stubborn straps.

He checked the stalls anyway. Nothing.

When he walked back out, he spotted Dina by the water trough, refilling it with a bucket in each hand.

“Hey,” he greeted her, taking one of the buckets for her. “You seen Ellie this morning?” he asked, slowing beside her.

Dina shook her head as she hoisted one of the buckets, water sloshing over the edge as she tipped it into the trough. “Nope,” she said casually.

Tommy frowned. “She didn’t say anything last night about not comin’ in?”

“Nope,” Dina repeated, grabbing the second bucket out of his hands. “Just me and Buckets One and Two. But I also didn’t file a missing person’s report, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Tommy took the bucket from her again once it was full before she could lift it. “I’m just askin’.”

“Well, you can relax, Sheriff,” she said, wiping her hands on the back of her jeans. “She’s probably just sleeping in. Like a normal person. You know, someone who doesn’t have any actual chores assigned yet.”

He gave her a look, and Dina grinned.

“What?” she added. “Teenagers need REM cycles. Let her have one.”

Tommy huffed a soft laugh through his nose, glancing toward the path that led back toward the cabins. “Suppose so.”

“I could use a morning to sleep in too, by the way,” she mentioned, off handedly. “You know, get some beauty sleep. Wouldn’t mind not having to stop by the stables every morning when the sun rises.”

“Talk to the council about rearrangements on the chores assignments, not me.”

“You literally are in the council,” she smirked. “Just suggest it next time you guys meet.”

“Oh, yeah. First topic. Justice for Dina and her sleep schedule.”

“Exactly. Justice for Dina.”

He scoffed, hiding a laugh, helping her carry the buckets to the stalls.

Tommy thought that it could be that Ellie had decided to sleep in for once. She’d left the anniversary celebration a bit late last night, going home with Faith. He’d seen them leave before he went home himself with Maria.

Something felt different, he just didn’t really know what it was.

By midday, Tommy made his way to the clinic, just like he did every other Thursday.

Maria was already inside by the time he got there, seated on the padded bench in one of the checkup rooms with that ‘I’m trying to be patient but I’ve peed twice already and I swear to God if I have to go again in the next five minutes before the doctor actually shows up I’m walking out’ look on her face.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking.

“You look thrilled,” he said.

Maria shot him a look. “Oh, just ecstatic. I love getting poked and prodded before lunch.”

“Good thing you married a man who finds you hot even when you're gettin’ your blood pressure checked,” he said, crossing the room to press a kiss to her temple. “Seven months in, and still lookin’ like the prettiest thing in this whole town.”

She gave him a tired smile. “Flatter me all you want, but unless that compliment comes with food, I’m still annoyed.”

“Already got food waitin’ after. Town Hall’s makin’ chicken stew today.”

“Oof. That’s dangerous talk,” Maria said, rubbing a hand over her stomach. “Say that again and this baby’s gonna come early just to get to it.”

The doctor knocked once and stepped in, all smiles, then ran through the usual check-up routine: heartbeat, belly measurements, questions about sleep (bad), appetite (constant), swelling (her ankles were threatening to stage a rebellion). Everything looked good, even with the usual third-trimester complaints.

Tommy helped Maria ease back into her shirt as the doctor scribbled a few notes into her folder. Doctor visits weren’t the same as they usually were, but after managing to get some still runnin’ equipment, they managed fine in Jackson.

“Hey,” he said low, fingers brushing her back as he helped with the buttons, “you seen Ellie today?”

Maria raised an eyebrow at him. “No, but I also haven’t seen half the town today, Tommy. Why?”

“She wasn’t at the stables,” he said, tone casual, but the crease between his brows gave him away. “Dina said she’s probably just sleepin’ in, but…”

“But your gut’s twitching,” Maria finished for him, sliding down from the exam bench with a groan. “You get one of those every time you misplace your coffee mug too.”

He ignored that. “Just seems off, that’s all. She’s visited Shimmer every day for the past week.”

“Well, maybe she’s off with Faith,” Maria said, adjusting her waistband with a wince. “They seemed good again. Left together last night.”

“Yeah.” He paused. “You alright? Need help?”

“Just need to pee,” she muttered. “Again. Goddamn bladder’s been held hostage since month five.” She waddled toward the bathroom and called over her shoulder, “Don’t go interrogating the staff while I’m gone.”

Tommy held up both hands in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As soon as the bathroom door shut, he turned to the doctor, who hadn’t left the room yet but pretended she wasn’t there.

“She in today?” he asked. “For her shoulder?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow, but didn’t pretend not to know who he meant. “Faith? Yeah, came in first thing this morning. Said she wanted to get her checkup out of the way early.”

“She okay?”

“She’s doing well,” the doctor said, giving him a small, knowing smile. “In fact, I’d say she was in the best mood I’ve seen her in in… well, since I’ve met her.”

Tommy’s brow ticked up. “That so?”

The doctor nodded. “Didn’t even grumble about the blood pressure cuff, and she always grumbles about the cuff”

Now that made him blink.

Maria returned then, wiping her hands on a paper towel, and caught the tail end of the conversation. “Tommy,” she said pointedly. “You promised.”

“I didn’t go interrogate anyone,” he said, holding up his hands up again. “Just asked the doc how Faith’s holdin’ up. She was already here!”

Maria rolled her eyes and muttered something about nosy men under her breath, but she didn’t press it. He took her hand as they stepped out into the early afternoon light, the sun warm above them.

Faith in a good mood. Ellie nowhere to be found. And none of them came to town hall for lunch, not even Joel, like he usually did to pick up something for himself and the girls.

It was probably nothing. But Tommy couldn’t help the way his brain started trying to put the pieces together.

Something was different.

They ate lunch at Town Hall, tucked into one of the corner tables while the rest of the big open room buzzed around them. The banisters from yesterday’s anniversary celebration still crisscrossed the windows, casting cheerful little shadows across the floor. Some streamers hung low and sad in places, barely clinging on, but the whole place still looked festive enough to pass for another party if someone squinted.

Tommy set down two bowls of stew, slid one toward Maria. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Good,” she said, already reaching for her spoon. “I’m starving. This kid has a black hole for a stomach. I had three slices of toast this morning and was still ready to gnaw on my own arm by the time we left the clinic.”

Tommy chuckled. “You said that yesterday, too.”

“Because it’s true every day,” she said, then sighed as the first spoonful hit her tongue. “God, this is unfair. If the baby comes out and doesn’t like chicken stew, I’m sending it back.”

He laughed, then stirred his own bowl slowly, less eager to eat. His eyes kept drifting toward the big windows, scanning the occasional passerby. He was quiet long enough that Maria noticed—she paused, spoon halfway to her mouth.

“Okay,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Spill it.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You’ve got your face on.”

“My face?”

“The one that says, ‘I’m thinkin’ about something but don’t wanna say anything yet ‘cause I know you’ll say I’m overreacting,’” she mimicked in a rough drawl.

He smirked despite himself. “That’s real specific.”

“It’s also real accurate. So? What’s going on in that veteran brain of yours?”

Tommy hesitated, dragging his spoon through the stew. “It’s just… somethin’s off.”

“Mm. ‘Somethin’s off.’” Maria tapped her spoon against her bowl. “Last time you said that, you decided the power grid was haunted because the lights flickered during a rainstorm.”

“That was one time—”

“And the time before that, you said one of the cattle had a look in its eye.”

“That cow did charge me the next day.”

“Tommy. It was a goat. And it was because you stepped on its tail.”

He tried not to grin, but failed. “Alright, alright. But this ain’t like that.”

She gave him the patented ‘I’m listening but I’m still judging you’ face.

“I already told you I haven’t seen Ellie all day. She wasn’t in the stables, didn’t check on the horses, didn’t even show for breakfast with Dina.”

Maria shrugged a shoulder, chewing another bite. “Okay. Maybe she slept in. You said Dina thought so, too.”

“Yeah, I know that’s what Dina said, but…” He made a vague hand motion. “Doesn’t sit right. Kid’s been up every day since they got back. First one out the door most mornings. It’s just… not like her.”

Maria swallowed and gave him a long, dry look. “You sure this isn’t about Joel?”

He blinked. “What?”

“He’s your brother. You care about him. And now you’re just transferring that to the girls, too.”

Tommy gave a helpless little shrug. “Yeah, well… I just care ‘bout them. But the doc said Faith came in this morning, and that she was in a really good mood.”

That got Maria to pause mid-chew. She gave him a skeptical look. “Faith? Good mood? At the clinic?”

“Didn’t even complain about the blood pressure cuff.”

Maria raised both brows. “Okay, now that’s weird.” she said, sarcastically. He didn’t realize, though, and thought she was being serious.

“See?” he said, like that proved his point.

“Still doesn’t mean something’s wrong,” she smiled endearingly at him. It was sweet how much he already cared for them. “Maybe something’s right. Maybe they just… needed a day to themselves.”

Tommy made a soft noise, neither agreement nor protest. He glanced toward the front of Town Hall again, scanning faces. Still no Joel.

“He hasn’t shown either,” he said.

“Joel?”

Tommy nodded. “Usually pops in to grab lunch around this time.”

Maria narrowed her eyes, like she was about to tease him again, but then thought better of it. She set her spoon down, letting out a sigh.

“Alright,” she said. “So what do you wanna do? Go hunt them down and ask what they’ve been up to? ‘Cause nothing says ‘we trust you’ like a midday search party.”

Tommy groaned. “No, I’m not that nervous.”

“You do seem pretty nervous.”

“I just—” He huffed, then looked at her again, more earnestly this time. “I trust them, I do. But when things change too fast, I get itchy. That’s all.”

Maria softened a little. She reached over, covered his hand with hers. “That’s fair. But maybe give it ‘til this afternoon. Joel’s probably just buried under something in the workshop. Faith and Ellie could be off… I don’t know, taking a walk to get to know the town, or doing typical teenager stuff like staying in their rooms the whole day for no goddamn reason.”

Tommy sighed, nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll give it a few more hours.”

“And if no one’s been spotted by dinner, then you can go into brother and uncle-mode and knock on their door like a mad man.”

He chuckled. “Deal.”

Maria grinned, picking her spoon back up. “Good. Now eat your stew before it gets cold and I decide to steal it.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

She shot him a wicked smile. “Try me, Miller.”

He let it slide, for a while, and after walking Maria out the door and parting ways until the evening, his feet carried him over to the repair shop. Joel was probably there, getting his hands busy. Yeah, that was probably it.

Except, he wasn’t there.

Tommy stepped inside the repair shop, glancing around. The place smelled like oil and sawdust, the same way it always did—clean in that raw, lived-in kind of way. Tools hung on the walls in organized rows, benches were half-full with projects in progress, but there was no sign of Joel.

One of the younger guys working on a stripped-down generator looked up from under the brim of his cap. “Hey, Tommy. Lookin’ for somethin’?”

“Yeah, Joel,” Tommy said, stepping further in and scanning the room again, just in case he’d missed something. “He been here today?”

The guy wiped his hands on a rag and shook his head. “Not since yesterday, as far as I know. You want me to leave a message in case he shows up?”

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah, it’s fine. Just—” He paused, catching a glimpse of a roll of blueprints on the side table near the window. “What’s that?”

The guy followed his gaze, then gave him a hopeful look. “Oh, actually—hey, since you’re here.” He was already unrolling the papers across a cleared section of table. “We’ve been working on the storage expansion unit by the north edge to make a new shed for the tools and garden equipment. But we’re stuck on the foundation layout. You mind takin’ a quick look at these?”

Tommy opened his mouth to say yes, to make some excuse, but his feet were already carrying him over.

“It’s alright,” he said reluctantly, peering down at the drawings. “And I know you didn’t account for the slope over there. You’ll get water seepage come autumn.”

“Shit, really?” the guy frowned.

Tommy sighed. “Yeah. Lemme show you.”

He was only supposed to be there five minutes. But one correction turned into two. Then into a short sketch. Then a debate about roofing angles. Before he knew it, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, painting the edges of the windows orange and gold. He straightened with a groan, back stiff, and saw the time on the clock overhead.

“Damn,” he muttered. “I was supposed to help set up for movie night an hour ago.”

“Sorry, man,” the guy said sheepishly.

Tommy waved him off. “It’s alright. Better to get it right now than fix it later.”

He made it to the town square just as the final rays of sunlight were bleeding out across the tops of the buildings. Jackson’s weekly movie night had become something of a small ritual—ever since they’d found a working projector and a treasure trove of reels from an old cinema out near a small town, it had become a tradition. Ever since they’d also found a huge supply of corn – stuff that could honestly resist anything, even the end of the world – the kitchen also laid out popcorn buckets like in the old days, and even jars of syrup they mixed into drinks.

Tommy started setting up rows of folding chairs near the fire barrels, working alongside a few teenagers and a retired couple who always brought extra quilts. He was halfway through arranging the last row when Maria walked in, arms folded over her chest, her belly leading the way out of the kitchens.

She looked around, amused. “Wow. Look at you. Finally decided to be useful, huh?”

He smirked, turning a chair around. “I’m makin’ myself indispensable.”

“You always say that when you forget you were supposed to be somewhere two hours ago.”

He stepped toward her and kissed her cheek. “Been consultin’ on construction stuff. Got roped in.”

“Well, lucky for you, popcorn’s not quite ready yet.” She looked around. “You seen Joel then?”

Tommy hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Hasn’t shown up at the shop today.”

Maria raised an eyebrow, then gave his arm a pat. “Well, guess that means he’s not stressin’ about blueprints either. Must be nice.”

He chuckled, but his gaze lingered on the crowd beginning to gather. Kids darted between benches while someone was tuning the projector. The room was filling fast, golden light glowing against the wooden walls and casting everything in that cozy, communal warmth Jackson did so well.

He was about to excuse himself, deciding that enough was enough and that he was gonna go swing by Joel’s place—just to check—when the doors opened again.

And in walked Joel.

With Faith on one side and Ellie on the other, the three of them laughing about something, shoulders brushing, cheeks flushed from the walk. Faith was grinning at Ellie, who looked like she’d just made some joke. They were easy together in a way Tommy hadn’t seen in… maybe ever.

He stopped in the middle of the aisle, forgetting the folding chair in his hands. Maria followed his gaze, then leaned in. “Well, would you look at that.”

Tommy let out a low whistle. “Huh.”

“Still think somethin’s wrong?” she teased.

He shook his head slowly, smile creeping onto his face. “No. Not wrong. Seems… Like something’s finally good.”

Something in the way Joel held himself. Something in the way both girls gravitated toward him. Something in the laughter—real and free—echoing through the hall, bright as anything.

Tommy blinked, like his brain had to catch up with what he was seeing. Joel, laughing. With both girls. Just like that. As easy as breathing. It’d been a long damn time since that looked natural on him.

Something had definitely changed. And it was definitely something good.

Tommy dropped the folding chair to the floor with a light clatter and started toward them, weaving through the filling hall. He saw the girls leave Joel’s side to go get some drinks and popcorn by the food table, greeting Dina on the way when they crossed paths, and Tommy saw how Joel was still watching the girls with that soft, crooked smile when they left—the kind Tommy hadn’t seen on him since before. Before Boston, before the outbreak and losing Sarah, before the whole damn world tipped sideways.

“Hey!” Tommy called, lifting his hand as he approached. “Where the hell were you all day? I was two minutes from staging a damn search party.”

Joel turned at the sound of his voice, chuckling. “You worry too much.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes, mock-serious. “Yeah, well, when your brother suddenly disappears off the face of the earth, and neither of his girls are around either, I start imaginin’ all kinds of shit. Someone sick. Something wrong. Ellie startin’ a fistfight… You know, stuff. I got worried.”

Joel just shook his head, amused, and turned to Tommy. “Relax. Nobody got kidnapped. Unless you count me bein’ dragged through a home inspection. We were at the house all day, Faith and Ellie decided I needed to put my old ‘contractor skills’ to good use. Walked me through every damn room and told me to write down what needs to be changed or fixed. They got some plans for the backyard, as well. Want me to repaint the mailbox first thing in the morning.”

Tommy barked out a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. Gave me a damn clipboard like it was a job site, too,” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, but he didn’t look annoyed. Not even close. “Turns out, they can be bossy as hell.”

“Not surprised,” Tommy muttered, chuckling.

His gaze drifted between the three of them again. Ellie at the drinks table, rolling her eyes. Faith, smiling at something Dina was saying. Joel, happy. It lit something up in Tommy’s chest—warm and familiar and just a little bit bittersweet.

“So…” he said, lowering his voice slightly, “things are good again? With the girls?”

Joel glanced back at them, watching as Faith filled the popcorn buckets and Ellie argued over syrup flavours. His eyes softened. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We talked. And… yeah. Things are good.”

Tommy nodded, lips pressing together to hold back the stupid grin threatening to take over his face. “Shit, man. That’s real good to hear.”

Joel gave him a look. “Don’t get all emotional on me now.”

“I won’t,” Tommy raised his hands in surrender. “Just sayin’. You look… lighter.”

Before Joel could respond, Faith and Ellie returned, greeting Tommy quickly and calling out for Joel to come with them, “Joel! The movie’s starting soon, c’mon!”

“Better hurry or I’m keeping the drink I got’ya.” added Ellie.

Joel gave Tommy a lopsided look, like what can you do, and stepped away. “Catch you after.”

Tommy watched him go after them to the rows of seats he’d been helping set up barely twenty minutes ago. Joel settled between the girls—Faith’s good shoulder brushing his, Ellie nudging his other side. They were laughing about something again, Joel pointing toward the projector like he was explaining how it worked. A moment later, while Ellie wasn’t looking, he reached into her popcorn bucket and stole a handful.

“Hey!” Ellie yelped, slapping at his hand.

Joel grinned wide, unrepentant.

Not long after the lights dimmed, the reels clacked to life, and the flickering glow of the movie danced across their faces. Faith leaned in slowly, resting her head against Joel’s shoulder, murmuring something that made him nod. Beside them, Ellie sank deeper into her seat, eyes glued to the screen, comfortable, sharing her popcorn with Joel.

Tommy stood at the back of the room for a long minute, arms crossed, just… watching, with something like reverence. Joel didn’t just look happier – he looked anchored. Like this was where he was meant to be, bracketed on both sides by girls who had once looked like ghosts in his life, now laughing with him like they’d always belonged by his side. Maybe they did.

Yeah, they truly did.

Maria came to stand beside him again, quiet now. Tommy didn’t need to say it. But he did anyway. “They’re gonna be alright.”

Maria slipped her hand into his, squeezing once. “Yeah,” she said softly, certain. “They already are.”

And if anyone asked Joel now if that was true, he’d swear it, this time truthfully.

Taglist: @kitdjarin1@christinamadsen@abtjudex@hongjoong-titties@cokoladasljesnjakom@puppi-sonnenschein@elisha-chloe@wwefan2002@hello-lisa1026

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Extra 4-Chapter 139

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

Another early morning read with a dirty chai latte.

I am trying to get my reading done (One more chapter!?!?!?!?) before I leave for my trip this weekend. I feel like concluding this absolute epic read before I go on vacation will be perfect. It'll give me some time to decompress and reset before I pick up a new series.

I am going to miss this story! I can't believe I have been reading and talking with all you amazing people for so many months.

gah, i'm about to get maudlin so I'll leave it here for now <3

Let's get into chapter 139!

"gege help me" being their safe word is so funny to me. Good for them! XD p260

I 100% believe that Hua Cheng went into that cave to fix any statues he thought were unworthy, (not 100% correct but sort of). This is my guess! p261

omg. the statues can move!? p261

ugh my heart! Xie Lian helping his own statue (the drunk one) work through some trauma. Poor guy, he's struggling so much. p263

Oh, Hua Cheng hid the painful statue :( still sweet. But the flower poison one is not well. p266

LOL why did I think this was going to be sweet and serious. Hua Cheng is really making a statue of himself to fuck the Xie Lian statue. pls. p268

It escaped!!!?!? p270

Mu Qing needs a raise for real, "Even if it wasn't you, it's got something to do with you!" p273

Even worse! Mu Qing being so so mad that the statues of hualian are defiling his garden. oh no XD I'm WHEEZING> p275

omg. The statues of them and their debauchery are stuck like that!? pls. Wrong answers only. Where does Hua Cheng decide to display them? p277

"If only every Xie Lian could have a Hua Cheng" my heart! soon for sure! p277

WTF this art has me tearing up! This could have been reality for them :'( I'm glad the statues can have this p280

My heart!

This was so ridiculous but also so sweet. It was 90% very unserious but that 10% hit me in my feelings for sure.

One more extra to go :'3

[fruitycasket]

Moira Saw The Truth (6 of 7)

The Magic Circle arrives in an attempt to clean up this mess. Will they succeed? Probably not. The better question is what they'll do to Marvin when all is said and done.

Word Count: 4,708

Notes: Obligatory links to the previous chapter, next chapter, and Ao3. Obligatory tag for @the-pastel-kitsune. We're pushin through the doubt babyyyy. Unrelated, the colors of the Twins' masks are really nice.

“Turning within is what really lets us see.”

Moira checked the time.

Only 10 PM? Really? It felt like the whole night had passed.

Marvin was still fast asleep, and the Cat, though mostly inert, sometimes stirred in unsettling motions she couldn't decipher from where she stood.

They're both going to hate me, she thought.

The Circle was due to arrive soon. There was no specific time frame, but they wouldn't let this simmer for long, not if they understood what this was. (Or rather, understood that they didn't understand.)

There was no way to make it a nice awakening for Marvin, nor to explain what she’d done to the White Cat in hopes of assuaging any bad blood. She kept contemplating waking Marvin up to give him the bad news. If she did, maybe he’d have some time to steel himself, but it was most likely Marvin would run screaming out the front door with the Cat at his heels. She doubted it was within her power to stop either of them from taking off into the night, and she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing some kind of manhunt put out in response.

“Would you like me to watch him for a bit?”

Moira jumped.

Ramesses stood behind her. “We won’t be waiting long, in any case.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You look tired.”

“You think you don't?”

Ramesses raised an eyebrow.

Moira looked away from him. “I’m fine,” she insisted again in a soft tone, “Ramesses, I’ve been meaning to tell to you… All you’ve done since you got here is try to help and I've been snippy all that time.”

Ramesses grinned. “This is true."

“I didn’t mean to scare you back there. I’m sorry. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you’d left.”

“That is also true, yes. I’ll say it’s water under the bridge as of now.” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’ll have a little more faith in me.”

“I can do that.”

“Then you can let me watch him for a moment.”

“Maybe.” Moira sat on the flensed remains of Marvin’s bed. The fitted sheet retained cold from the outside air even though the window had been closed for a while. She saw Ramesses getting ready to point out she was technically still watching Marvin from where she was, and spoke before he could get a word out, “You know we have a spare mattress, you don’t have to sleep on our couch.”

Ramesses took Moira’s old spot against the doorframe. “Eh. I can fall asleep anywhere.”

Moira swung her feet onto the bed, laid back, and yawned. Her limbs turned to lead the moment she hit the bed. “Doesn’t mean you should, right?” she murmured.

“I suppose not. Maybe I’ll take it one of these days.”

“It’s there if you want it…” Moira yawned again, “Wake me up when they’re here.”

“Of course.”

Ramesses did not wake her. Instead, she awoke to the intrusive tune of someone knocking hard on her front door, followed by someone answering in her stead.

There was a moment’s confusion before she realized, They’re here.

Moira leapt to her feet. On her tiptoes, she darted past the ajar closet towards the stairway, stopping briefly to check that Marvin and the Cat were still there. Her son was still fast asleep. The Cat’s ears and the top third of its eyes watched her while the rest was swaddled in its blanket, but it was otherwise still. She thought its face looked a shade darker than it had an hour before as she ran out to the top of the stairs.

“Ramesses?” she asked, “Who’s there?”

What felt like an army of robed magicians poured into Moira’s house, with Ramesses irritably grumbling as he pushed his way through them.

There were two, a man and woman, who led the horde and seemed to be in charge. They were wearing masks of some canine animal Moira was too tired to bother analyzing the species of beyond: Dogs.

The Dog Masks looked up at her. “Where is he?”

“Asleep upstairs…” Moira trailed off as the magicians came towards her. “Wait.”

They did not wait.

To their credit, they didn’t shove her out of the way so much as gently push her to the side.

Ramesses reached her as all the magicians closed in on Marvin’s room. Most of them stood on the stairs as barricades, a few kept an eye on herself and Ramesses, and the Dog Masks stood at either side of Marvin’s doorway to peer at the open closet.

Things were getting claustrophobic. Moira found her heartrate spiking even as Ramesses tried to comfort her.

“Moira,” Ramesses warned, “you’ve got to let them do their work.”

“But, he’s—Wait! You're going to scare him.”

The Dog Masks stood in the doorway like they were uncertain if they should go in.

“That could be an issue,” the Dog Masked Woman whispered.

“It can’t be helped,” the Dog Masked Man whispered back. He entered the room, flicked on the lights and called out in a loud voice, “Marvin. You will surrender that thing and yourself, now.”

Moira crept forward, coming up behind the two to see what Marvin was doing. She didn’t get far before a magician grabbed hold of her arm. Still she could see enough of the inside to know Marvin was wide awake now, standing at his open window.

“It’s gone,” he said.

“Gone where?”

“Out the window.”

The Dog Masked Woman immediately turned around and headed for the stairs, “I’ll see about that.”

The other magician kept his distance from Marvin, regarding him like a wild animal trapped in Moira’s house. “You understand what happens now, I believe. I would not like to cause a scene with your mother and Ramesses here.”

Marvin turned around slowly, his eyes skipping between the magicians in a frantic hunt for an escape. Moira could almost hear his heart pounding through his ribs as the air became difficult to breathe. Although he wasn't crying, he was more upset than he’d been earlier, and the windless storm his magic made reacted in kind. It was pulling so hard at the magician's robes it seemed like it should be sweeping him off his feet.

“If you run, we will catch you. And if we have to catch you, it will be much worse for you than if you surrender now.”

“I…” Marvin locked eyes with Moira. He looked betrayed at first, then resigned. “I…”

The Man took a step towards him, and Marvin flinched. The window behind him cracked down the middle. Jagged branches sprouted from the center in lightning-strike patterns.

The Dog Mask paused again. “If I had wanted to harm you, I could have done so many times before now,” he took another step, and another crack sprang across the window pane, “Marvin, I will do what I must to defend myself.”

Another step.

The glass remained still.

Marvin was fighting to take deep, slow breaths.

The Man found his confidence at last and crossed the room. He grabbed Marvin by his wrists, but the movement was too fast, too startling. The window shattered. Its glittering shards were instantly sucked into the center of the room and spat back out in all directions.

Moira put her arms up and ducked a second too late. Pain lanced up her arm as a wide spike of glass wedged itself into her palm.

Ramesses stood, wide-eyed but unharmed, grasping at a cut on the shoulder of his shirt. Around him, several magicians frantically checked for wounds to varying degrees of success.

When Moira recovered from the shock of the glass in her hand, she peered into Marvin’s room again to find the Dog Masked Man was still holding on to him, hissing something under his breath. Whatever he said made Marvin shrink down and away, but he didn’t struggle when he was led downstairs and outside with a shimmering set of handcuffs on his wrists. He had a small cuts along his arms where glass had stabbed him.

Moira was kept away from Marvin by a few magicians while the rest followed the Dog Masked Man to keep him safe from more exploding windows, but the whole affair seemed unnecessary. Marvin was twitchy, no doubt, but the handcuffs seemed to have brought an eerie calm over him.

Outside, the Dog Masked Woman was leaving the shed. She stopped the Man and Marvin first, and after speaking with them both, she noticed Moira and Ramesses coming to stand on the back porch and stalked towards them.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where that thing went, would you?” she asked him.

“Clearly not. It got away,” Ramesses said.

The Dog Masked Woman sighed. The sound reminded Moira of a pressure cooker signaling it was time to let out the steam. “You let it get away, you mean.”

“Oh, I apologize, madam. I should’ve just walked in there, gave the boy a stern talking to and scruffed the Cat for you before you showed up, really it was selfish of me not to”—

She turned on him and snapped, “Watch your tone, seer.”

“I’m right,” Ramesses didn’t flinch, “There was nothing anyone could’ve done, every road leads to that beast giving you the slip. You’ll just have to wait and see where it turns up.”

The two faced each other with hard, unblinking stares, and all the magicians poring over the backyard for any other illusions stopped to watch. Even the Dog Masked Man and Marvin paused as they walked away from the house. Moira looked around at them, awed of the sudden onset of fear that had gripped their ranks.

The Woman snorted. “If it turns up, Ramesses,” she said, “For all we know the thing’s vanished for good.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

The magicians cautiously resumed their work as the Woman answered. “It’s for the best that it’s not out there unmonitored, regardless.” She paused. “Does the boy know where it’s gone?”

“He… might. But you won’t get far without his cooperation.”

“Tch. Go with Nico, if you’re so concerned about that,” the Woman turned away from him and called out in an impressively commanding voice, “My brother can handle a child on his own. Search this house for anything else out of order.”

Ramesses glared at her, and it occurred to Marvin she hadn’t ever seen him look truly mad. “I’m going to make sure Marvin’s alright,” he said, “You’ll be careful, Moira?”

“I think so, yes?” Moira didn’t know what he meant. Ramesses was gone before she could ask, and she was distracted by other matters shortly after.

The magicians swept through the house like a windstorm, with little care given to her belongings and what they meant to her. She couldn’t argue with them to spare that heirloom or to please keep this wall intact. If they felt it was suspicious, they overturned it, opened it up, and dumped out its contents.

“Madam.”

“Eep.” Moira jumped. Standing behind her, too close for comfort, was the Dog Masked Woman.

“You may call me Nicola,” she said, “I see no one has tended to that injury, yet. May I?” She held out an upturned, white-gloved hand. It was so pristine Moira was leery of putting her blood-soaked palm into it.

A stab of pain reminded her not to be so ridiculous.

“Oh. Nice to meet you… Nicola,” Moira laid her hand in Nicola’s and winced as she set about levitating the shard of glass free, “I’m”—

“Moira. I’m aware.” The glass was plucked free. A rush of blood followed. Nicola sealed the wound with a spell that looked like motes of light dancing inside Moira’s skin, but not before her glove went from soft white to dark red.

“Sorry about that. How did you know my name?”

“Marvin talks about you here and there.”

Moira figured Nicola was just saying that because it sounded nicer than, “I researched everything I could about you before I got here”. When the little lights disappeared and Moira’s cut had scarred over, she pulled her hand away with an awkward laugh. “That makes sense. I’m sorry for being so jumpy, this is a lot for me.”

“I imagine. It’s not going to get any easier, I’m afraid. I have to ask you some questions.”

“Oh. Of course you do.”

Nicola inclined her head towards Moira’s injured hand. “Has Marvin done things like that before?”

“What—Oh, no no no. He’s not like that.”

“I understand you’re his mother, but it’s imperative that you are honest with me about this.”

“I am being honest.”

“Hm,” Nicola inspected her bloody glove, “Bear with me. It’s standard procedure that we ask some things more than once: Tell me the truth…”

Pinpricks of light danced in Moira’s eyes.

“…has your son done this before?”

She blinked, hesitated, and spoke again, “Well, he… Never anything this extreme. It was always an accident, and it only ever pushed some light things around.”

“If he can’t control it, that is still a concern.”

“I’m sure he can.”

“We will see. And you were aware he had this ‘cat’ for how long?”

“I learned tonight. Before I just thought… I don’t know. I thought the things in the shed were a little odd, but not anything like that. He just loved sketching cats, and he collected dead animals, who would think that could lead to this?”

“Who indeed,” Nicola nodded, “And you were aware of the other contents of the shed?”

“The other…?”

“It would seem your son has been practicing less grim forms of magic in his spare time. It is less important, I suppose, but still something to be noted, given that he was expressly forbidden from casting.”

“I… No, he… It was all harmless, though.”

Nicola repeated impassively, “It is still something to be noted, madam.”

The questions kept up after that. Things about the shrine, and whether Marvin had a history of violence outside of class, and what kinds of spells she suspected he knew, and so on. Sometimes Nicola pried further or asked a question a second time, but for the most part things moved quickly.

When she was done, she thanked Moira for her honesty, regrouped with the magicians in the house, and gathered them all to leave. They put her things back with a few flicks of their wrists and gave empty promises of repairing Marvin’s window for her.

“But…” Moira tried to ask as they left, “What are you going to do to him?”

She got no answer.

She looked out to the street and found everyone was long gone.

She was alone.

“If you were expecting to convince me to ‘go easy on the lad’, it’s not going to work.”

Ramesses scowled. He had come along for the ride into the Circle’s depths with Marvin, which Nico had allowed upon seeing how it calmed the boy down, but now he was continuing to get in the way. Because of course he was.

Nico loomed large over him, but the old man was unshaken. In a way it was refreshing, to actually fight with someone instead of immediately getting his way the moment the ghost of irritation crossed his features. In another way, though, it reminded him why he enjoyed having that power so much.

“Pretend for a moment,” Ramesses said, “that we’re talking about a boy who is in over his head, and not a maniac who likes skinning small animals alive for fun, would you please?”

“Now, I never said I thought that.”

“You understand what I’m trying to say. You go in there huffing and puffing if you’d like, just warn me so I can stand farther away first.”

In Nico’s peripheral vision, someone flinched at Ramesses’s tone.

Nico sighed. Sometimes I regret letting you remember you can talk to me this way. “Calm down. You can run along and tell your friend her son will be fine. I do still need him in one piece, in case he knows where his ‘cat’ might be, do I not?”

Ramesses sat back in his chair, glaring. “I’ll wait here, thank you.”

“Here” was a well-armored room built for the purpose of containing powerful criminals and those who had the displeasure of interrogating them. It looked normal save for the winding, enchanted maze on the other side of its single exit, designed to confuse and stall escapees. The room was populated with a dozen security magicians, half of which were bemused to be guarding a scrawny, anxious, barely-adult boy.

Nico took his mask off, eyes narrowed in a warning he knew the old nut wouldn’t particularly care about. “Don’t interrupt me.”

He set the mask aside on a nearby table, inwardly scoffing at the sympathetic looks some of the guards gave Marvin through the cameras. Like Nico had so little decorum that he would enter this room and immediately start torturing someone. Like he hadn’t just said he didn’t think it was necessary. What was he, a scientist?

“How is the boy?” he asked.

“Mmm,” someone stationed at a group of three computer monitors picked at his teeth, “Scared shitless, I believe. Mind you don’t get turned into a cat.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Careful you don’t do anything to him, either. Old man’s got a point, sir.”

Nico shot the guard an annoyed look, and he turned back to his monitor. “Good luck,” he muttered, reprimanded.

Nico entered the room and Marvin jumped at the faint noise of the doorknob turning. The atmosphere changed, the air moved thick and slug-like down Nico’s throat each time he took a breath.

It was saturated in evocation magic. The next sudden noise could cause the whole room to go up in a ball of green flame.

That old man was a thorn in the side, but his words struck true. Nico internally, begrudgingly accepted that taking his advice was the correct call as he approached the wooden table Marvin was seated at.

Marvin fidgeted with his hands. His magic thumped along with his rapid heartbeat. Not ideal.

It was a fact that evocation magic had to come from somewhere, but there were vanishingly few opportunities to study it. Scholars of every stripe would be foaming at the mouth to hook this boy up to the fanciest sensors money could buy in search of his magic well, and while the idea of finding it was appealing, Nico had to think of the bigger picture. If Marvin was in imminent danger of hurting the Circle or the people around him it would be no issue to see him dealt with.

“Marvin, correct?” Nico sat down across from him.

Marvin shrank into himself as best he could, given that he was handcuffed to the table and chained to the floor by his ankle. His nails scratched against the wood grain. “Professor.”

“There’s no need to be afraid, I don’t bite. And I’ve been told you’re a victim of circumstance, is that right?”

Marvin muttered near under his breath, “I guess so.”

“You will have to explain that to me, then. We need to understand why all this has happened.” Recalling everything he knew about Marvin from observing him in class, Nico continued. “I’m sure a precocious student like yourself has some idea of how these things go. I won’t have to deal with lies, will I?”

“…No.”

“Good. Now, first things first, I wanted to ask you about this.” Nico pulled a picture out of his cloak, received just that morning and pored over by a million visual effects and illusionist masters for signs of doctoring prior to being handed off to him.

It had been deemed probably real, if for no other reason than it was hard to look at. Not because it was gruesome, but because it was like the image didn’t want to be perceived, resisted allowing its colors to be properly transmitted into useful images by the human mind. Nico was also inclined to think it was real because it was unlikely their donor was skilled enough in illusions to make anything like it, but there was only one way to truly find out.

The moment he set it on the table, there was a shift in Marvin’s body language. His fear was overpowered by a laser focus. Something like a translucent emerald oilspill shimmered over his eyes. He leaned forward. “That’s…”

“Your cat?”

“The Cat.”

“I see. And you made this creature?”

Marvin looked up. He blinked, as if clearing some dust from his eyes. “No, I only helped.”

“How?” Nico put his hand over the picture and drew it back towards his body until it was out of Marvin’s sight.

Suddenly, robbed of the picture of his monster, the boy became anxious again. The air felt tinged with static. “The White Cat needed a body, so I brought it cats to use.”

Dodging the question. Nico clicked his tongue. “Be specific. Can you explain what that means?”

“I don’t know.”

Cynically, his vagueness was an effort to make what he’d done seem less abhorrent, but perhaps…

Nico uncovered the picture again. As expected, Marvin locked onto it. “And then?”

“It was… probably like transmutation. They’re the White Cat now, and the White Cat is them.”

“Hm.” Nico doubted he was going to get more detail on the cats’ fates than that. He switched angles. “Does this cat speak to you?” he asked.

Marvin looked uneasy. He worried at his hair and when he spoke, it was barely a whisper, “When I’m asleep, usually.”

Interesting. “Did this ‘cat’ tell you how to create it?”

“It’s not like that.”

“What is it like, then?”

“You won’t believe me.”

This time, allowing the picture to remain on the table, Nico attempted to offer some comfort. He was getting somewhere. “I have a higher tolerance for the unbelievable than one might expect, Marvin. You know, Ramesses and I know each other.”

“Sure you do.”

“It’s true. We’re acquaintances, it’s why you made it into our school. You remember that, don’t you?”

Marvin paused, twirled his hair into a loose braid, and muttered, “It doesn’t talk like what you’re thinking. Not in normal words. It’s…”

“Hard to explain?”

“It’s like music.”

“But you understand what it asks you do to?”

“I understand how to do it.”

Very interesting. Had someone or something given him the instructions on how to create the cat creature? It would make sense, if it were true. Marvin was smart enough to take a magical “blueprint” and create whatever it detailed, in the same way one could (with some difficulty) put together a puzzle without understanding the picture it formed. Throw in interference from a third party, and… Perhaps Ramesses hadn’t been lying when he’d said this wasn’t Marvin’s fault.

But would that be better or worse than Marvin doing this of his own accord?

A thrill of dread ran down Nico’s spine at the thought of anything capable of this, of expertly puppeteering every aspect of their body and brain for unknown ends. He hoped Marvin was lying. Nico knew what to do about humans, at least.

“You made this Cat, you think you transmuted it, at least, but you can’t tell me how,” he said.

“Um. Yeah, basically.” Marvin shifted in his seat.

Nico found himself strangely relaxed in spite of the words he was hearing.

Confession extracted. Wonderful.

But what to do with his catch?

It was tempting, and legally correct, to enact some sort of punishment, but Marvin’s fate was proving more flexible than that. He was smart, but suggestible on account of being young, and if this “white cat” could be used to sway his choices that was all the better. Of course, that idea banked on the fact that the “cat” could be blotted out of his mind, or at least have its influence lessened. If that couldn’t be helped… He had great potential for brutality, and that wasn’t how Nico liked things to get done, nor was it a quality anyone should really be looking for in the student of an esteemed magical institution. That had to be under control if nothing else.

Nico stood. He decided he had enough of a baseline to get to the most important part of this procedure. If Ramesses was still watching, he’d be averting his eyes right about now. “I have one last question, Marvin, and then we’ll see how truthful you’ve been and go from there.”

“Alright,” he said.

“Do you feel remorse for what you did to those cats?”

Marvin met his eyes for longer than he’d ever managed before. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t hurt a cat. Those cats didn’t die and they aren’t hurt, because the White Cat’s not like that. But I, if I did hurt them… of course I would.”

“That’s good to hear, young man. Now, I have one last thing to do,” Nico crossed the room. “Relax. This won’t hurt.”

He pressed a finger to Marvin’s forehead, and—

Marvin was sick. He could barely hold himself up and he was freezing cold. Little pinpricks of lights danced in his eyes, but these weren’t pieces of his Cat, these were manifestations of pain. It felt like someone had hammered a railroad spike into both of his eyes and stabbed his eardrums with toothpicks. Why? He couldn’t recall. The events of the past hour were a blur to him. The pain in his eyesocket was explainable, but what was wrong with everything else?

Maybe it was a stress headache?

“We’re done here,” Nico smiled at him, and Marvin jolted as if woken from a daydream.

Oh, yes. He had been taken in because…? Marvin rubbed his temples until he could coax something of an answer out of his brain.

He had been taken in because someone found out about the Cat and he was in trouble. Or, that was how it seemed.

“What happened? We were… you…” Marvin stumbled over his words as his memory returned to him in bits and pieces, “Are we done? You said there was something else we had to do.”

Nico put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards a water cooler. (Wait, they weren’t in the interrogation room anymore? When had they gotten here?) “I don’t know what you mean. I never mentioned anything else.”

Marvin found his thoughts momentarily consumed in opaque fog, and when it was gone, he wasn’t sure what he’d just been talking about. “Oh.”

“I’ve come to a conclusion. There is potential in you, yet, Marvin. I think I can arrange an outcome for you that doesn’t involve life in a padded cell,” Nico said. He collected his mask from a nearby table where an empty chair and dark computer monitor sat, and slipped it over his face.

Marvin looked around and found the entire room was empty, when he was sure it was full of guards—and Ramesses—earlier. What did that mean? Was Nico being honest? He really wasn’t going to be locked up forever? “You mean that?”

“Completely. You’ll even be able to go home today, though you understand you can’t be left entirely unsupervised, and there is still the matter of your creation.”

Marvin supposed that couldn’t be avoided. It didn’t worry him, though. The White Cat wouldn’t be found unless it wanted to be seen. It was probably long gone, hidden somewhere the best magicians and detectives would never find.

…Which left Marvin to bear the suspicious, sidelong glances of the Magic Circle for the rest of his life.

“I still don’t know where it is,” he muttered. A little spirit had returned to him, enough that he managed an indignant pout and crossed his arms over his chest.

Nico’s gaze was inscrutable from behind his mask but it weighed heavy on Marvin all the same. “…I know.” There was a beat of awkward silence. “You said you had a headache. Perhaps some water and medication could help, I’m sure someone here has one or both.”

“Oh. Yes, please. Sir.” Marvin was led out into the winding, enchanted halls, unsure what had changed, but pleased at not being treated entirely like a criminal.

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star

Art in the banner by Kerravi on x!

Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!? WC this chap- 11.5k (longestt)

Warnings- WOW this chap has it all, heed the warnings - filming porn masturbation ( m) oral (m and f receiving) spit kink HIGH KEY, mentions of cum, multiple rounds, switching positions, size kink, swallowing (M and F) explicit sex, feral Gojo, squirting, mating press, tummy bulges, lots of fucking goddamn- Gojo is whipped mutual pining, obsessive Gojo. Angsty asf in places, lots of jealousy

A/N- Taglist closed- This was so smut filled I took MULTIPLE breaks aha, maybe my most smut filled one ever? don't read in public actually - please comment/rb if you enjoy <3

<<<Chapter Two - Masterlist- Playlist- Chapter Four>>>

Chapter Three

You can’t escape the desire you have, even in your dreams.

Waking up cumming was not just new, it was ridiculous, and you didn’t even know that happened until this morning. Waking up with your cunt throbbing around nothing, and gushing arousal, as your dream was filled with Satoru kissing you, fucking into you with that thick, huge cock, hitting spots deep inside that felt real even in your dreams.

That’s it, sweetheart, cum all around my cock, hmm? Lemme feel her- there you go, baby.

That had done too much to your sleeping brain apparently, because you couldn’t stop cumming either, crying out and whining when you’d touched your cunt and felt the slick coating everything. After shaking violently from it, you’d peeked and seen a good morning text from him, all while you had to go get cleaned up, trying to compose yourself before you texted back.

Jenna calls now, shaking you out of your reverie, and the two of you plan lunch the next day. “You’re having dinner with him?”

“Yeah, but as a… friend?”

“Oh baby, you’re too cute.” You sigh, leaning back as you stir up some dough for cookies you were baking later, the sunlight filtering in through the little kitchen window you have open wide. You peer out into the sky, thinking it’s not as pretty as Satoru’s eyes.

“I do really feel things, but Jenna I can’t not be near him, if it’s as a friend, then it’s as a friend.” Jenna sighs louder than you did. “Are we having a sighing contest?”

“I’ll win any loud moan contest, but your sighs are cuter.”

“Jenna!”

You both laugh then, and a beep sounds on your phones. “Ah, looks like he’s going to stream. Gonna go watch your friend?”

“You’re an instigator. Maybe.” She giggles again, as you finish preheating the oven, scooping the dough onto the parchment paper.

“Be careful, you’re a grown woman, and things change, but don’t forget yourself, okay?” You pause then, emotions catching in your throat at her words. “I’m not trying to be the ‘mom’ I swear.”

“I know, Jenna. I love you, see you soon?” You end the call after she says goodbye, popping the cookies in the oven and turning them on. You set up your laptop, deciding to do some work for the weekend on a project your friend hired you for, but the temptation of seeing Satoru keeps nagging at your mind.

The man certainly has a pretty cock, but you think it’s the way he looks at the camera that fucks you up, it’s probably why he’s so good at it, his job. And he clearly enjoyed it, even though you know he was having a little difficulty with the last shoot, perhaps he prefers solo lately? To think you had anything to do with that was foolish, so you wouldn’t allow the thought.

The timer beeps, you stand up and stretch, turning off the timer and oven then, grabbing a bright red oven mitt and pulling out the sheet pan, smelling delectable, the steam hot and rising, scent filling your nostrils. You loved to bake, especially when you were stressed, and you suppose you were, having feelings for a man currently stroking his cock for the camera was conflicting at best.

You keep trying to tell yourself that it’s not feelings, that you’re inexperienced and confused, but you know you’re lying to yourself. You eye that silver laptop again, remembering the last time, the image of him sucking his own cum off his fingers is burned deep, a core memory at this fucking point. You shake it off, then sigh, giving into temptation.

You’d just tip him a hundred again to be supportive, you tip Jenna all the time, it’s fine, it’s something a friend can do.

Right?

You log in to the onlyfans platform, the black and blue OF making you just a bit nervous, clicking on the stream then, taking several breaths as you click on it. Fully prepared to be soaking wet, the sight that greets you is not Satoru stroking his cock, it’s another woman, her thighs spread, while Satoru runs circles on her clit. She’s propped on his lap, her head against his bare collarbones, moaning.

Your heart shatters then, and it shouldn’t, no you’re so stupid!

You are Satoru’s friend, and it was your choice to check his stream, to tip and be supportive but ultimately you know what you potentially signed up for. You saw him with Jenna, and for whatever reason that had not bothered you- maybe because it was before he touched you, looked at you like that.

The girl in front of him has two of his fingers shoved deep as he has her feet propped up on his thighs while you blink away stupid tears that shouldn’t exist, there’s no anger but there’s so much jealousy you shock yourself. You’re a girl’s girl, you’re supportive, what is this!? You’d like to rip her right off his lap, and you hate yourself for it right now.

You shake it off, looking away as the cookies fill your home with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate. It should be a cheery morning, but you can’t even focus on anything but the conflict in your heart. You stare back again, hearing Satoru’s soft, husky voice, watching all the comments in the chat while he grips one of her breasts in his big hand.

Her head falls forward, and the way you vividly imagine it being you instead has you heating up, in more ways than excitement, embarrassment - you’d never be that girl for him, you wish you could be that way. But Satoru and you together felt too special, especially to share, how could you fall when this was your idea!?

You can’t be upset.

You take a breath, shutting your eyes and looking away as his voice resonates through the laptop’s speakers, echoicing in the quiet. If you were crazy enough you’d say it sounded different than with you, that he let go more, that you were even wetter when he touched you, but you’re starting to think you’re delusional.

“So, we wanna hit this spot right here, for any men watching, you’re gonna curl up here, that spot feels good, doesn’t it honey?” Your jaw sets, swiping tears from under your glasses now.

“Ah, y-yes Gojo!” Her moan echoes too much, he pauses then, the squelching of her cunt stops, it’s all quiet as he just stares at the camera like he’s staring at you, his lips parted, eyes widening just a bit, but there’s no way.

You’ve lost it.

You tip him the hundred as you’d intended to, quickly shutting your laptop and damn near hyperventilating. What’s wrong with you!? His job is to fuck women, so you saw him touching one, what do you expect? The man had a gang bang scene just yesterday, and dinner with you tonight. You have to shove it all down then, you have to remember what he does.

It didn’t mean it wasn’t special though, for you.

Did he do things off camera with-

Stop it!

The phone rings a few minutes later and you just stare at it, lost in your own head, wishing you could compartmentalize it so much better, that you could separate the two. You were so stupid for engaging and knowing, but at the same time, to not have Satoru seems like something you can’t compute, even if it is just as a friend, even if you can’t be sexual.

Maybe you read it all wrong, that night.

Satoru calls again, shaking out his hand as his co star is now fucking herself quite expertly on a dildo, since Satoru can’t get hard for anything - it’s worse today than yesterday - he decided to turn it into a guided masturbation video. At least his fucking fingers still work, despite jerking off to you so much his cock is raw, remembering your lips surrounding it.

Even fingering her he’s picturing your pussy, fuck he wants to just bury his face in it again, he knows the two of you are ‘friends’ or whatever the fuck this was, but it’s exceedingly difficult when it’s affecting him like this. He keeps wondering if you all sleep together, will it make it worse or better? Was he all in his head, as if you would go for someone like him if he did date.

What was he thinking lately?

He saw your name in the stream and his stomach had dropped - and why, you’re just a friend, it was fine if you wanted to see a bit of a stream and tip, he knows it is to be supportive. You’re supportive and sweet, so sweet, god your taste and scent still haunt him, he’s been dying to see you tonight, in any capacity, but when he saw the name he felt awful.

He only wants to fuck you, touch you, but he has a career and commitments, to get her to agree to this instead of fucking was already difficult and he was slowly losing it as his cock kept refusing to work. Even if he could get it up, he didn’t like the idea of fucking someone else at all, after the debacle of a gang bang yesterday. But even touching someone was doing nothing for him.

Now he saw you leave so quickly, and decided to gently smack his co star’s ass, smiling as he bent her over, murmuring he needs a break. She eagerly took over the spotlight, the opportunity was a huge one for her anyway as a smaller star. Satoru keeps staring at your picture, sighing as he notices the little reflections in your glasses, touching the screen softly.

You saw him touching someone, did you care, did it bother you-

Why is he thinking like this!?

He calls again, and you answer, much to his relief, as his hands let go of the bathroom counter he’d gripped too tightly. “Hey Satoru, sorry I popped in, I thought it was um… you…”

“Jerking off?” He finishes the sentence, leaning back against his wall and shutting his eyes.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you did um… shoots at home. You should get back to it, why are you calling me, silly? Looks like um… you were, ah… doing… good.” You’re breaking out every voice, cursing yourself quietly, why can’t you just speak? You’re shoving it all down, trying not to cry - there’s no reason to!

“Ah, yeah I thought I’d try to teach people how to make women cum, they fail often you know.” He tries to make it light, as his stomach clenches, a sick feeling when he hears your forced laugh.

“That’s very true. Someone should give you a Nobel prize for this work.” He snorts then, as the laughter becomes a little more genuine. “No you’re amazing at that. Why not show them how?”

“You thought I was amazing, hmm?” His tone changes, cock throbbing when he just hears your sigh, picturing you vividly in his mind, while the sounds of his co-star echo, moans and squelching wetness that does nothing for him.

Didn’t he used to enjoy all of this?

“You know I thought that.” Your heart pounds, you have to remember, Satoru is amazing and just because you’re hurt, you can’t be mad or upset at him. He’s not yours in any way, even if you’re starting to wish he was. “Isn’t your co-star waiting?”

“She’s occupying herself fine. It’s not… sex…” Because I can’t get hard unless it’s you. “It’s just a tutorial.”

“Oh,” your relief shouldn’t exist, you shouldn’t care, but to hear that does make you slump over just a bit, before taking a breath. “Do you want to do dinner another day, it’s already four-”

“No, no!” Satoru panics then, since when does smooth pornstar Satoru freak the fuck out and act desperate? “I mean, no. I want to see you tonight. I have time to shower and get there.”

He wants to wash any of this girl off, frantically actually, he wants you all over him, even if it’s just him pleasing you more. But moreso, even if you just wanted to have dinner and that was it, he’d be happy, though the thought of fucking you with his fingers while you eat dessert is insanely tempting, making his tip drool precum quite annoyingly as he glares in the mirror.

“Okay good, I was looking forward to it.” Your whisper is soft and genuine, as he sees the red on his cheeks, the black pupils, just thinking of you shifts his entire face.

Fuck.

“I’ll start getting ready, I think it’s time you see I can get dressed up.” You tease softly, swiping stupid tears and trying to plaster a bright smile on your face as you stare in your mirror. Your eyes are puffy, the color drained from your face, lips trembling - just seeing that has affected your entire face, taking off your glasses so you don’t even have to look at yourself for a moment.

“I bet you’re gonna kill me, you look so pretty any time I see you,” his voice is hoarse, as he spills the vulnerable truth, and the two of you shut your eyes, leaning against your bathroom counters. “But I’m excited to see you dolled up.”

“Are you, Satoru?” You try to hide the insecurities haunting you, hearing his sexy, heavy sigh on the other line.

“Very excited. I’ll see you soon, sweets.”

The two of you hang up and you sigh, eyeing the clock now - you have about two hours to get ready, and you’re so nervous your palms are sweaty and numb. It may just be two ‘friends’ having dinner, but you want to shove that image back you just saw, and focus, and try to look beautiful tonight.

Satoru’s own hands are numb, as he curses, slamming a hand on his forehead, unable to think of anything but you, barely able to pull himself together. When he walks out, Suguru is there, nibbling in the kitchen, raising a brow at him. “You good, Satoru?”

“Fine, I… you wanna finish that for me?” He gestures to the room, while Suguru sips down water. “I think I have a kind of date or something.”

“A date!? Huh?” Satoru just looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t think it’s a date, it’s friends or something? Maybe... I don’t know. Is dinner a date if it's not with a costar?” Suguru rolls his violet eyes, sighing as he washes his hands now, patting them dry with a paper towel.

“You’re acting weird as fuck lately, that cute little good girl got you simping?” Satoru scoffs, rolling his blue eyes now.

“Suguru, just do me a solid.” Satoru pouts, earning Suguru’s scoff.

“Fine, fine, but you owe me one.” Suguru and Satoru enter the room, as Satoru eases the transition, the notes in the chat are going insane, he can’t help but exhale in relief, before pausing at the thought.

Was there some way to save his malfunctioning dick?

*****

Satoru whistles when he meets you at the restaurant that evening, running just a little late, you're sitting there nibbling on your thumb, peering at the menu when he arrives. Your eyes light up behind a different pair of glasses, these have cute red rims, matching the red dress you're wearing that's making him ache.

He hasn't seen you in something like this, not that you weren't always pretty, but when you stand up and he sees how it fits your body it almost takes him everything to hold back. Vividly picturing bending you right over that table and fucking you in front of the entire restaurant, gripping the red shimmery fabric that drapes across every line and curve of that body.

He can't form a word, notoriously known for never shutting up, but he can't think of anything to say, when you shyly look down, hands fidgeting in front of your lap, and he’s standing there sputtering. It’s awkward even, until the waitress comes up and smiles over at Satoru, gesturing to a seat, saying - ‘This must be the friend you were waiting for!’

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, you look beautiful.” He says finally, pressing a kiss to your cheek, feeling it heat up against his lips. You shake your head with a sweet turn of your lips, kissing his cheek in turn.

“You’re fine, Satoru, I still haven’t learned LA time.” He chuckles at that just a bit, sitting across from you now, before deciding to sit next to you instead, shoulders brushing together.

“This feels more comfy? It feels all formal the other way.”

“Does it feel too… date like?” He falters then, because that was not it, but the doubt has crept in on your face, when the waitress asks you all for your order, and he has to blink back the confusion. “What do you suggest?”

“Want me to order for you?” You nod shyly, god the submissive nature of you makes him ache in way too many ways, knowing how perfect of a girl you’d be for him in every aspect. “We’ll have this,” he says, pointing to the menu now. “And bring two glasses of champagne please.”

“Are we celebrating?” You tease, handing the waitress the menu, Satoru chuckles a bit, shaking his head while you take in how handsome he looks, brushing your fingers against his suit jacket. “You look so good, Satoru.”

“Thank you, sweets.” He holds your hand then, fuck it feels too good, pressing it against the dark red suit jacket that truly only he could pull off, black button down shirt left open, showing enough of his chest to make anyone die over. Your eyes look at it now, a few of the chains he wears resting along the strong muscles, settling between his collarbones. “You’re making me look bad, wearing in that dress.”’

“No way!”

“Absolutely, you are. You’re so pretty, fuck…” He’s brushing back a tendril, as you eye him, that look that drives him insane, the look that’s ruined him since he met you. He tries to smirk, to act calm, teasing, “I look that good?”

“Yes, shit. Sorry.” He laughs softly, shaking his head when you pull your hand back gently.

“We match, great minds you know.”

“Indeed, we clearly coordinated telepathically!” He laughs then, and it's just like that first night, when you and him just hit it the fuck off. It’s comfortable, it’s fun - so fun - that people smile at the two of you, as you laugh like friends for years. It’s how it feels, like you’ve known him, a way you can’t explain.

But you wished it was just the friendliness, not the heat in your tummy when he wipes a droplet of clear, bubbly champagne from his plump lips, if every time his thigh brushed yours you didn’t melt. Someone comes up then, a really pretty girl, and you feel Satoru stiffen a bit, making you tense, sipping on the tart champagne and averting your eyes a bit.

“Gojo, it's been what, a year?!” He smiles with ease, standing and kissing her cheek, hugging her tightly.

“It has been, shit, how you been?” It’s all very Hollywood, their exchange, you feel you’ll never figure it out, the two years you’ve been here after relocating and you still couldn’t get being kissy on everyone.

It makes you think of him earlier, his fingers in that-

Stop that!

He’s saying your name you errantly realize, you plaster on a smile as she looks at you curiously, eyeing you up and down. “Co-star?”

“No, no, she’s my friend. She’s a good girl.” He winks down at you, and she giggles then, holding her hand out.

“It’s awesome to meet you!”

“You too. Are you um…”

“A former co-star, yeah. Satoru is the best in the industry.” Ah, so she fucked him, too. You want to be petty and scowl and you hate yourself for it more.

You never, ever are like this.

You never have been.

She’s touching his shoulder and making you sick, when your eyes catch a familiar face, a man standing with a group of other men, smiling over at you, he’s one of your co-workers that is always working. You wave at him while Satoru finishes his conversation, and he adjusts his tan jacket, touching the arm of one of the men, letting them go as he walks to you.

You tense just a bit, while the girl finally leaves, and Satoru’s sitting next to you once more, as his phone rings. He turns it off, jaw tensing when a blond man takes your hand and bends down at the waist, like some old school gentleman, pressing a kiss to the back of your delicate wrist, the pretty bracelet slides down your arm as he does it, and he watches your blush.

The fuck.

He was trying his best to get that girl to go on, so he could get back to talking to you, but now some random guy has your attention, and Satoru doesn’t like it, not one fucking bit. “Nanami, this is Satoru.”

“Nanami, huh?” He leans back, flipping off his phone again, you look at him curiously.

“Need to grab that?” You ask, and he shakes his head, swiping it off once more, ignoring his manager while this Nanami guy eyes you behind green glasses.

“You look stunning, is that alright to say?” You giggle again, Satoru glares at you, how dare you giggle at him!?

He told you that you looked beautiful. Did you giggle?

He wants to punch this smirking man in the face.

What’s wrong with him!?

“Thank you, Nanami, I guess you don’t see me too dressed up at work, huh? You always dress so well.”

“Oh stop, you’re flattering me. And this is your…” He trails off, looking at Gojo, who has to wipe the glare off his face for a moment.

Say it, Satoru.

More than a friend.

You look at him then, as if you’re waiting for him to say that, to say something, while Nanami’s lips quirk up just a bit, making Satoru want to smack him again. He takes a breath, smiling then instead of glaring, but his hand is on the small of your back. “We’ve become close friends, very quickly.”

“Oh? I’ve known her for a long time,” Nanami says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. You look at Satoru, whose phone starts ringing again, and he curses, rolling his blue eyes. “Need to take that?”

“It’s my manager, they have horrible timing. I’ll be right back.” He murmurs, you smile understandingly, while his manager trips on him about earlier.

He knows his dick doesn’t work, and now he knows he hates touching anyone, but he doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone when he has no fucking clue why this is happening. He’s obsessed with a sweet, shy little thing that is currently getting hit on by a dude buffer than him.

Maybe he’d be good for you.

Satoru is too petty to admit it though, glaring instead while his manager goes on and on. “Listen, I get it, you need content.”

“We need you with women, a lot of your viewers are men, they’re not gonna tune in to watch you solo. Find someone that works for you, I don’t care who at this point, but we’re just not gonna make profit if you keep turning down roles. Or, I heard, you shoved a girl off on Geto.”

“I didn’t… shove her off, I just…” Satoru frowns again, the blond man is sitting next to you in the other seat, your eyes are on Satoru however they turn away when he catches your gaze.

He just wants to fuck you right in front of that fucking man now. God, if you would be interested in starring in something, you’d make bank, it’s not just his obsession, your pussy is the prettiest one he’s seen. Your tits, your body, they’re all so sexy, and your pretty face with those glasses? You’d kill any sexy nerd shoot there was.

“Satoru!”

Shit.

He can’t get the vision of you in some slutty ass librarian outfit from running through his head.

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll try to get something going, I mean I was gonna do a solo tonight anyway.”

“That’s fine, but remember you’re a lot more than just Onlyfans. You’re a star, Satoru, that comes with a certain level of appearances. So whatever is going on, you gotta get it together, or we’re both not making shit.” He sighs, leaning back against the wall now, eyes going back to you, giggling at something he’s said.

He’s too close to you.

Why does he mind so much?

“I’ll get a shoot done.” The words feel horrible, the thought of fucking anyone else just seems like an impossibility, and he doesn’t know how to compute it in his mind.

What did you do?

“Alright, I expect some video with a woman - not with Suguru. Though…”

“I’m not fucking Suguru.” He chuckles as people look at him a bit, running a hand through his white locks. “He is pretty but not my type.”

“He’s gonna be your type if you turn down every other actress.”

“Ugh.”

“Mmhmm, talk to you later.” He hangs up, frowning at his phone, trying to gather himself before he does something so stupid, jealousy filling him and for what?

You’re talking. You’re not his. He had his fingers buried in a girl this morning, why does he care if you did anything? He knows you’re not that girl, though, but you choose to be with him. It makes him feel far, far more special than he’d admit, the fact that you want him, that you trust him. Was he mistaking the look in your eyes, was it just desire there?

“If you are single, would you mind a date sometime? I haven’t had so much fun talking in a long time.” Nanami says softly, making you look down shyly, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks from the soft lights hanging above you in the dimly lit, pretty restaurant. “Am I too bold?”

“No, no. I just haven’t been on a date in forever.” Satoru feels like he’s been punched in the chest as he hears, nearing the table and acting like he didn’t wanna yank you to him and kiss you then and there.

But he chose to tell him you’re friends, that’s what you were, a friend he wants to fuck all night in every position imaginable. Then lick his own cum out of your cunt, abused from his cock, and fuck you all morning. God he can’t stop thinking about them all, have you dragged on his face, his hands on your waist, let you ride his mouth till he couldn’t breathe.

Real fucking friendly.

Satoru’s hands grip and release while he hears your answer, “I will think about it, Mr. Nanami, it may be fun.”

That’s almost a yes.

Fuck.

“Think about what?” He asks with a smile, leaned back in the booth, a hand brushing your bare thigh under the table, where your dress had slid up from you sitting, he feels it tense while he drags his fingertips across it, eyeing you then.

Was Satoru trying to confuse you more? You look at him again, some toxic part of you that you don’t recognize wants him to claim you, what the fuck was that!? You have never been that way, you’ve never been a lot of things until you met this blue-eyed man, however, and even with a handsome Nanami flirting, you can’t get Satoru’s moans out of your mind.

Snap out of it!

“A date with your lovely friend. You two are just friends?” He looks between the two of you now, and Satoru opens his mouth, but what can he say?

It’s what you ‘are’.

Would he be worthy of dating you if he wanted to, when his job was fucking other women? You didn’t deserve that, you deserved to be the only one, fuck you literally had become his one singular, consuming thought. He smiles good naturedly, eyeing you now, watching you bite your lower lip, teeth digging into the plush of it, while your thighs tremble just a bit.

“We just met at a party a few weeks ago, but we are really close. Quickly.” He murmurs.

“Can’t see you partying.” Nanami’s hand comes to touch your other thigh, and for a girl who hasn’t had any in forever, the sensation of two big hands on your thighs is addling your mind. “No offense, darling you seem a little straight laced…” his words are trailed off with his hand squeezing gently.

Satoru scowls at him.

Is he touching you!?

Do you like it?

“I don’t party, it’s true.” You smile now, a hand over his, thumbs brushing his knuckles, while Satoru’s squeezing so hard you wince before he realizes it, letting go of his grip, but the hand staying on your knee. “I think we could go on a date sometime, as long as it doesn’t make work weird.”

“Not at all, all right I’ll leave you two to hang out then,” he stands, holding out a hand for Satoru, he squeezes the shit out of Nanami’s hand with a forced smile, only for Nanami to squeeze tighter. And fuck he’s strong. Then, he takes your hand, murmuring a - “I’ll see you at work, then,” and kissing the back of your hand. “Darling.”

Darling.

Satoru will show him darling.

You giggle, only pissing him off more, nodding shyly, fuck you’re cute even when you’ve made him furious. He’s shared women so many times he can’t count, even girls he got closer to, regular girls that you could almost say he ‘dated’ he’d still regularly bang out with his friends. He’s not possessive in general, he’s open minded and a free spirit.

Or he was!?

“Sounds good, Mr. Nanami.” He hates how you say his name, when the man in the khaki suit and dumbass cheetah tie leaves, finally. “He’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, so sweet.” You look at him then, narrowing your eyes curiously.

“You don’t like him?”

“I don’t know him. Seems boring, pretentious.” You blink in confusion, eyeing the retreating figure walking out, he even waves at you, which you return.

“He doesn’t seem like either to me. Satoru, you said we are just friends, are you worried that we won’t… do all that we do if I date someone?” Your words drop to a quiet murmur, and he sighs.

“Yes I would be very upset if I didn’t get to taste you again, why wouldn’t I be? It’d be a fuckin’ tragedy, sweetheart.” His words are too husky, when he leans against you, turning just so, his fingers slipping up your inner thigh, a side of sweet, nice Satoru you hadn’t seen yet, you almost think he looks…

He can’t be jealous.

Right?

You're delusional.

“I don’t just sleep around, so if we went on a date I wouldn’t do that. But, if I hit it off, and got serious, I wouldn’t continue our… lessons. I can only be with one person at one time.” He tenses then, is he going to lose you before he even gets you? “I don’t care if you do the same, I know it’s your job, but I couldn’t.”

“I’m not fucking anyone right now. My manager is bitching at me about it.” You tilt your head curiously, the chandelier earrings dancing in glittering prisms along your neck as you study him. “I’m having issues on set.”

“Is everything okay?” You ask, concern in your voice now, as he shakes his head. “Satoru, what's wrong?”

“I’m not in a good headspace it seems, the gang bang I failed, and I pushed the girl this morning on Suguru. So if I don’t give my manager something, they’re gonna be pissed. And no money for us if I can’t show up.”

“What’s wrong though, you seemed fine with Jenna in what I watched? Is this a new problem?” God you’re clueless to your effects, aren’t you? You touch his thigh too, instantly making his cock hard, looking down and getting flustered, he feels your heat, just making him harder. “You seem to work fine to me. Are the cameras getting too stressful?”

“I don’t know, but it really is a problem. Do you think… you could help your very handsome, amazing friend out?” You look up at him, curious.

“Help how?”

“Your good video skills, film a hot jerk off stream, good angles? Maybe that will get enough money he’ll chill some until I get over this.” You look away, the images of Satoru stroking his cock are burned in your brain. “Too much?”

“No, no. I can help, I feel I am taking up your time-”

“You’re not.” He cups your face then, turning it to him. “You’re never taking up my time, I enjoy being here. Okay?” You exhale, fuck had you been worried about that!?

How could you not know how badly he craves your presence?

“I feel bad that you’re going through this, is it the lesson?”

“The lesson did bring your taste into my mouth, and maybe no one tastes as sweet, it’s true,” his thumb brushes across your jaw line, smiling at how embarrassed you get then. “I think your taste would help me out.”

“Then, I’ll film you, but I can’t guarantee the quality.”

“It’ll be impeccable.” He raises two fingers, making your mind go to places it shouldn’t, you know another ‘lesson’ or session, or any time at all with Satoru was dangerous.

You’re teetering on the edge of feelings constantly, but you can do this, right, separate the two? He seems so good at it, at being your friend and then doing more, and you almost failed completely. You almost couldn’t say yes to Nanami because you are currently so delusional you think this star is so interested in you for more.

You have to accept him for who he is, no matter what, this was your choice to join his life at all. You take a breath now, trying to flip that switch off, the one that can’t stop thinking how much you’d love to kiss him, every minute of every day. The side that’s upset his fingers were inside someone, you have to throw her aside, and enjoy what’s here while it’s here.

He makes you question so much constantly, like every minute spent under that cerulean gaze brings out a side of you that you never knew of, some inner sexual side that only he can ignite. It’s so beautiful and special, his breath against your lips, you want to press them to yours, but so unsure, was he not about to be affectionate in public with you?

Was this just left for home?

He changes your thoughts when he kisses your forehead, far too sweet, then your cheeks, hot to the touch, down to your nose, making you giggle, relax. “You never ever waste any time.”

“I needed that.” You exhale, kissing his lips quickly as he smiles against your lips, and you pull back quickly. “I’d love to help you out.”

“I’ll make it worth your while, pretty.” His thumb brushes the slick on your upper thigh, right by your panties, watching your lashes flutter shut, as you take a shaky breath. “Come back to my place?”

“For the night or…”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure-”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Satoru’s paying the bill, signing a signature and leaving a hefty tip, then, holding out a hand for you.

“Did you drive here?” You shake your head, and he smiles, snatching up his phone now. “Perfect, I’ll have my driver take us over.”

*****

The second time coming to Satoru’s home was a little different, you were more comfortable, slipping off your heels now, he bends down to help you again, kissing your knees as he does, hands slipping up your thighs. Your hand brushes a lock of his white hair back, the unreal way you feel this comfortable, this drawn to him, makes your heart ache.

You’re so scared you’ll get hurt more, but you can’t stop yourself from being near him, from him looking at you like you’re the only fucking girl there is, are you so delusional?

Just enjoy it.

You close your eyes, sighing as he stands, kissing your lips again, easing your hand bag off your shoulder, brushing his thumbs across the mark it’s left on your shoulder. “Want another drink?”

“Yes please, if I’m going to be a porn director.” He laughs softly, shaking his head and taking off his suit jacket, laying it across the back of a chair when he pulls out the same bottle you’d sipped last time.

“You liked this one, hmm?” You nod, surprised he’d remember, taking the sweet liquid in the crystal glass, fingers brushing now. “Don’t get drunk though, I can’t have a shaky ass camera.”

“So demanding already, you really gonna make it worth my while you say?” You’re trying to tease back, like you can breathe or function in his presence, he just sighs, brushing back your hair behind your ear.

“That and more, sweetheart. We have hardly started doing things together, there is so much I can think of,” his hands slip lower, down the side of your neck, watching the goosebumps raise as he does, sighing at how perfect you look in his kitchen. “So many positions.”

“How many are there!?” He laughs now, at your embarrassed little look, pressing a boop to your nose.

“You’re endlessly adorable. Corruptible.”

“Oh!” He’s taking his own glass now, guiding you by your hand.

“Suguru’s out for the night, so we won’t get interrupted.” He’s leading you to his room, yanking off that black top, pausing as he sets up the ring light and grabs the camera, handing it to you, fingers brushing against each other. “You ready?”

“Ready,” your squeak of an answer makes him pause, taking your free hand, putting it on his bare chest as your heart hammers, trailing the hand lower to his belt and swallowing. “Need help?”

“Yes, I do.”

He needs you.

He’s desperate for you, fuck.

You’ve helped him undress, on your knees on the soft, plush carpet, when you start the stream, and he starts stroking that long, thick length right in front of you, he keeps looking at you, even when you gesture to the camera. He’s moaning, spitting on his tip, making it slicker for his big hand which still can’t come close to covering it, twisting and moving it all for you.

For his fans.

It’s hard to remember them when your cunt throbs, when you’re so overheated you can hardly stand it, and Satoru’s talking, low and hoarse. “Gonna cum so much, fuck…”

When he’s cumming you damn near do just looking, thighs pressing together for that friction, mouth fucking dry when your shaky legs nearly give out, while you come from a lower angle, reading the comments of his spurting cum, shooting up against his silvery happy trail, sticking all over, making you ache to drink it up.

“Fuck, I’ve made a mess, need someone to clean me all up.” Satoru whispers, while you barely are able to hold up the camera any longer, the livestream is avid with questions, namely - who is filming Satoru Gojo? And offers from many viewers to lick every bit of him up.

Satoru should stare at the camera, but he’s looking up into your eyes instead, stroking his cum soaked length slowly, just pumping more cum out of his tip, so much it’s ridiculous, dripped down to his balls and inner thighs. You swallow nervously, tummy clenched with desire, knowing you needed to stay quiet for the stream of curious viewers.

Satoru murmurs cut then, and  you do just that, shutting off the feed, and setting down the phone with a shaky hand, clearing your throat. “They loved it I think.”

“C’mere.” He crooks two fingers, and you eagerly obey, walking up to him now, tempting him to no end with the way your eyes drink him in. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

You obey again, eagerly in fact, looking up at him under lowered lashes as his clean hand slips up the side of your pretty neck, then around to the nape of it, entangling in your locks. Your soft whine and shift of your hips are all he needs to know you’re enjoying it, your hands obediently on your thighs, as if waiting for his every order, so sexy he feels his cock twitch back to life.

“Do you want to clean me up?” He asks softly, but the command in his tone is there, you nod and he exhales, tugging you towards him then. “Then do a really good job, sweets. Lick every bit clean like a good girl, and I’ll reward you.”

“I’ll do a good job.” Your whisper wrecks him, as he guides your head down, and you suck him, still hard, into your hot, eager mouth. Your soft whine vibrates around him, his head falling back as your mouth moves.

He can’t help but think of earlier.

A date, you were gonna go on a date, and he hates the idea, no, he fucking detests the idea in fact, the rage alone making him fuck your throat deeper, harder, feeling you gag and choke on him instead of anyone else. He shouldn’t feel possessive over his friend, a friend who’s sucking his cum, who’s swallowing him up, all he can think is his, his, his.

But you weren’t his.

How could you ever be?

Satoru’s never felt anything better than your throat, except he’s a million percent sure your cunt is better, he knows it would suck him up so greedy. When tears fall from your pretty eyes, it’s hotter than any blow job he’s had on set, the eagerness and desperate need to please far surpasses experience, your glasses fogging up when you pull back to take a breath then.

Satoru looks at his slick, spit covered cock, to thin trails of saliva disintegrating between your lips as you pull back, swiping at your lower lip. “How did I do?”

“Perfect.” His whisper is genuine, the words feel too good, you know you should stop, that you already wish he was yours, but you’re too addicted to how those blue eyes make you feel like you’re the only girl there is.

Even if it’s an illusion, a trick of your brain, or a practiced look.

The feeling is too euphoric not to be corrupted by it.

“You did such a good job, look at it, not any cum left. You sucked it all down, so greedy huh?” His hand comes under your chin, squeezing your neck gently yet so possessive, he wants to say it - his - but he knows he can’t. But it’s too easy to teeter off the edge, when your breaths come faster, breasts pressed up in that dress, rising and falling with each one.

“Satoru… I can keep going.” Your soft voice nearly ends him, little hand stroking his cock again.

“I was thinking of something, but if you don’t want to, it's okay.” You blink a bit then, tilting your head, tendrils falling against your bare shoulders.

“What is it?”

“A scene with me, but not showing your face at all,” your gasp and pull back makes him sigh. “It’d be like me eating your pussy, we could have it zoomed so no one sees your face.”

The thought, along with Satoru's sweet cum down your throat makes your tummy clench, while he brings out more and more of you that you didn't know existed. Your hands tense on his thighs now, taking a shaky breath, fingers along the downy hair on his thighs. “I don’t… Satoru you have a million options for costars-”

“I want yours. It’s the prettiest I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Satoru…”

“It is. Wanna argue about my expertise here?” You just get more flustered and flushed, looking down nervously, but he tilts your chin with his big hand, angling your gaze upward. “I’ll split all the pay, you get eaten out, and anonymously. I’d never tell anyone, I’d never risk your career or anything. But I do need to do one, and I hate the thought of it not…” Satoru trails off now, the words sinking in.

“You like eating me out that much?” Your whisper makes him chuckle then, nodding and swallowing nervously.

“That pussy is perfect. How about we film it, and you watch it, and if you don’t want to, I just keep it to jerk off to…” Shit, he said that.

He’s so desperate and pathetic.

But you flush again, surprising him with your nod.

“Shit really!?”

“We can film it for us to watch, and… I doubt I’ll be okay sharing it, but we can see if you- ah!” Satoru’s got you lifted so fast you barely can blink, unzipped and turned in moments, leaving you in the prettiest red lace lingerie that makes him groan, his fingertips trembling on your skin. “I said probably not, don’t get excited.”

“I’m excited to bury my face between your thighs again, sweetheart.” You cry out when he’s pressed you on the bed, spreading your thighs and groaning, fingers tugging at your panties.

“How can you make sure my face isn’t there?” You ask softly, he grabs the camera and the stand then, cock just swinging around, balls smacking his thighs, so used to being naked he doesn’t realize his effects. You can’t stop staring when he gets it at the perfect angle, clicking his tongue.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, viewfinder showing your pretty cunt up close, he’s almost furious to think anyone could see it like him, but his career is teetering on the brink of nothing, and if you truly were okay with it, he only sees it as a win.

You broke his dick and now he’s begging to just lick you, and split pay with you, he never thought he’d be so pathetic, but it’s no wonder, thumbing your pussy and spreading it, sighing. “Mnh!”

“So, to keep it anonymous if you decide to show this, don’t speak too personally, okay sweets?” You nod shyly, gasping as he shoves your thighs up. “Also, hold them up high, so all we’re getting is a view of your pussy.”

“Yes, sir.” You tease, but his cock starts leaking again, earning his moan.

“Don’t speak too much, to be safe, I don’t ever want you to feel like anyone would know it’s you. Speak when we’re done, though, you can absolutely moan.” You nod, so nervous, what are you doing!?

It’s as if Satoru Gojo brings something insane and wild out, because there is a thrill of your pussy on camera suddenly, and knowing he is about to worship you, potentially in front of people has your cunt drooling for him. He hits record then, angling his face so his tongue was in perfect view lapping up the arousal, exhaling now as he shoves your thighs up higher.

Perfect, you’re perfect.

“God, look at this pretty pussy,” he murmurs into the camera, parting your folds so all that syrupy arousal can pool out, he hears your sharp intake of breath, watches your red nails pressing into the plush of your thighs. His cock is already back hard, he has to stroke it and whines out as he laps you up, making you gasp.

He's slurping you then, head tilted just so the camera can see, smacking your clit gently, watching you jerk, pressing your thighs up higher and tilting the camera so it's higher, right over his head, looking at it and the reflection of your perfect cunt while he slips the tip of his tongue up. You're moaning at the sensations, twitching hips bringing your cunt more in his face.

Satoru can't stand it, how good you taste, he wondered if it was an illusion but no, you are the sweetest thing he's ever had. “You're so wet, god, take a look…” he's fingering you now, and you hear it while he watches it, glimmering from the soft ring light glowing on your perfect pussy. Making him so dumb he's just burying his face then, forgetting he's filming.

“Mnh!” You're trying not to call out his name, thighs still so high you can't see his face, to protect you from getting seen, until he adjusts it, spreading your thighs further, leaning up to look down at you under lidded eyes, chin coated in your slick. “Satoru…”

“You okay sweets?” His whisper touches you, his concern for you even during this, making sure you're okay. You nod and he exhales in relief, kissing you for a moment, knowing it's what you need, brushing your hair back, sighing as he looks down at you. “You're doing so good. Can you cum for me, baby?”

You nod again eagerly, and he’s dived back down, fingering you with two curled right in your cunt, hitting that spot that blinds you every time, his moans so filthy, guttural while he watches, angling his wrist and hitting something then, you feel so much pressure you panic, gasping, writhing under him.

“Oh my - ngh! Fuck!” You’re struggling to keep your voice a whisper, palming your mouth while you shatter.

“That’s it, right there, cum for me, lemme drink it up. Let everyone see how much you love my fucking tongue.” Pornstar Satoru was ridiculous to handle, hitting you with his fingers and the tip of his tongue on your clit, when the pressure releases, and your orgasm hits so hard you can’t help but scream, twitching as he pulls back in surprise. “Fuck, you’re squirting f’me?”

You have no clue what he means, you don’t see it as it starts pouring all over, making a mess, wet spot under you even as Satoru grabs you by the fat of your ass, licking up as much as he can. You’re a twitching, soaked little mess, your hands gripping his hair now, screams echoing in the room while he eases off you just a bit now, ready to fuck your slick, messy cunt.

He trembles as he pulls back and does one more shot, pressing a sweet kiss to your pussy before shutting off the camera, and leaning up, kissing you, so desperate, while your slick thighs rub together, and you feel the mess. He pulls up and takes a breath, flipping you then, making you gasp, handing you the camera while he kisses the backs of your shoulders, hands on your ass, spreading it wide.

“Watch it, sweetheart,” he whispers, kissing across your shoulder blades, brushing your hair to one side while you barely have the strength to press play, and that’s when you see it. “Look how perfect you are.”

Your pussy right on camera, and him eyeing it like he’s worshipping it, like you’re his fucking altar and his mouth is that offering. Your cunt starts throbbing while he works you, kissing every inch of your body as you fall more and more into the abyss of sin, of lust, of desire- of Satoru Gojo.

“You love it, don’t you baby?” His words are hot against your ear, while you watch him on the screen licking your cunt, watch your thighs tremble, all while he’s behind you, sinking his two fingers so deep in your quivering hole again. You arch your back, moaning now, it feels so good you can’t stand it, so erotic watching this video you two took, while he’s fucking you with his thick fingers.

“I do, but it’s insane… ah! Satoru…” He sighs now, taking his fingers out, pressing them into your mouth for you to suck, which you quickly obey, eyes fluttering shut, the image of his tongue fucking you reflecting in the darkness.

“Keep it for us, or share? It’s all up to you. I’ll never pressure you either way,” he’s soft then, turning your chin as he lays heavy weight over you, and you eye the phone now, hand shaking just a bit, to close it out or to share, he takes your hand, steadying it. “It’s fine to be how you are, you’re perfect, okay?”

“It’s fine to be how you are, Satoru Gojo. A… question, though.” He sighs, leaning close, while he keeps holding your hand, hovering just so.

“Mmhmm?”

“Would I be your favorite co-star?” Your teasing question makes him laugh at the ridiculous nature.

You’re the only one he can even get hard for.

“You’re the prettiest, yummiest, sweetest co star I could have,” his words are just a little broken, as he almost says more. That he hopes your date sucks with that Nanami guy, that he’s planning to show up at your work tomorrow to glare at that man, that he’s become fucking obsessed, but instead - “How could you think you’re not?”

“And we’re… still friends…” You ache for him to say - no, it’s more - but he nods, against your neck, pressing kisses against it. “Even if we fuck?”

God.

He’s dying.

“You think I wouldn’t be your friend anymore? I’m not the guy to get what he wants and go. I promise.” You nod then, smiling just a bit, and tap the share button then, surprising both of you.

“Holy fuck, I did that…” Your whisper is met with Satoru’s kisses now, as your video plays for all to see, your moans on camera mixing with the ones induced from his play, one arm wrapping your body as his cock presses insistently against your ass, hot and heavy.

“Stop me now, because I can’t think of anything but fucking your pretty pussy raw right now,” his desperate words and dilated eyes just serve to ruin you, when you arch your ass up. “Fuck, you sure?”

“I want you inside me, please,” he eagerly leans back, gripping his cock and lifting your thigh, pressing into your tight ring of muscles, almost cumming from the fucking tip. “Ah!”

“You’re so tight, relax I don’t want to hurt you, please.” Satoru whispers it as he grips your chin.

You nod, as he is slipping a little deeper from the back, the stretch burning so deliciously, you’re convulsing while the viewers are going wild over Satoru’s devoted pussy eating skills with his mysterious, faceless co-star. His silk hair brushes your cheek as he exhales heavy in your ear, whispering your name.

You eye the video, the comments, vision blurry, while he sinks his cock deeper, and he moans as he reads the comments to you, filling your cunt so full of his cock, inch by inch - and there are so many, each thrust deeper while you cling to his wrists, his arms wrapping you. He keeps reading them, even as he shoves in all the way, making you jerk and gasp.

“Perfect pussy, look at Satoru go, god she’s so wet for him, she’s cumming so much - is she squirting? Look at that, you’re a regular star, huh? F-fuck…”

“Mnh!” Your eyes roll back in your fucking skull now, lost in him, lost completely. So deeply unraveled under him you can’t remember what this is, that it’s a friend, that it was a scene, that you’re now the girl who did that, anonymous but to know it’s you on that screen with Satoru devouring you does something, fuck it does too much.

He’s murmuring more comments, and his huge cock is stretching your slick, tight heat beyond its means. “That’s it, you love it, huh? They all want to be in your place, or they want to lick you instead, but it’s me, isn’t it baby?” He shouldn’t be possessive, he tries to tell himself it over and over, but how can he not be, when he’s shoved in so deep, he feels the bulge of your tummy, groaning. “Feel me, sweetheart?”

You can’t speak, just nodding desperately, while the feed goes insane, watching your cunt squirt on Satoru’s face while he’s buried inside you, filling you to the hilt, stretching you out so good you forget to breathe. “Toru!”

He pauses at the nickname, your slurred words and pulsing cunt ending him, he could almost cum then and there and he has amazing stamina, but he has to hold back, wrapping a hand around your throat and leaning up on an elbow while you gush down his cock. Satoru kisses up your neck hungrily, eyeing your pussy on the video and then your face, your eyes almost black with pleasure.

“Only I can hit that spot, hmm?” His tip drags along your spongy spot now, and you’re twitching, nodding, so consumed as he surrounds you, breath against your neck, moans in your ear, hand squeezing your throat just so under your chin. His cock twitches as he shoves deeper, impossibly deeper, while you helplessly grip the blankets beneath you. “Answer me, like a good girl.”

“Y-yes.” Your whisper drives him insane, feral, the way your walls quiver around his cock is exquisite, that grip unreal, but more than anything it feels perfect.

“Made for this cock, aren’t you pretty?” The words fall out before he can stop them, and your eyes rolling back, drool spilling out of your mouth while your cunt is pulsing is his answer. “Perfect, fuck…”

“Mnh!” You can’t take it, his words urging you when he shoves his cock so deep, the tip bruising your cervix, making you scream as his guttural moan fills the room, his hand squeezing just enough pressure to make your orgasm blinding, white hot.

“Cumming all over me, so good, listening f’me, hmm?” You just nod weakly, gasping when he flips you to your back, lifting your thighs and shoving them wide, slapping the tip on your slick cunt and groaning. “Wanna watch me fill you up?”

You nervously nod, swallowing now, and he sees it, you’re overwhelmed, he leans down, kissing you, and you’re desperately clinging to his back, eagerly kissing him despite being damn near slack jawed. You exhale nervously, eyeing him is even more intimate, impossibly more, his plush lips still tasting like your honeyed arousal from earlier.

“If it’s too much, tell me, I want you comfortable.” It’s hard for him to speak, but he does, making sure to reassure you, kissing your forehead before he leans back.

“It’s intense, Satoru but… I want it.” He moans at that, sliding his cock back inside, sucking in a breath when you’re gripping him fucking tighter this time, slipping in slowly, inch by inch. “Ah! Satoru, so d-deep!”

“I am, huh? I can get deeper, baby.” You cry out when he shoves his cock in deep with a sharp thrust, and then pauses, eyeing that bulge in your stomach. “Look.”

“Look at… oh.” You’re heating up at the image, and he’s all about angles, he makes sure your eyes catch every bit of his slow thrusts, filling your tummy full of his enormous cock, too much to take, but your cunt is willing and eager, struggling to take his size.

“Fucking you so deep, see it? Your body is so small compared to my cock, pussy stretched too much, f-fuck… god look at you…” He’s losing it, he was trying to talk sexy to you, which comes naturally, but now he’s just obsessed with the image, thin white brows lowering over his eyes, while he slams inside you, your thighs trembling as they wrap his slutty waist. “Oh my god…”

“Satoru… ah!” He’s done, he’s fucking lost in you, in your eyes when he shoves your thighs up, gripping your face with his huge hands while he’s got you bent in half, slamming so hard you scream. “Too much!”

“I need all of you, fuck… can you take more?” His eyes are so bright blue they burn to look at, but you can’t stop yourself, nodding and cupping his face in return.

“Kiss me please.” He moans at that, slamming his lips down when he rocks his hips, cock filling you so deeply you scream into his mouth, hands slipping to his hair while he’s got his heavy weight over you.

“I can’t control it anymore, baby, if it’s too much just fucking hit me at this point,” he’s nonsensical, leaning up now, hands on the back of your thighs in a mating press, fucking you hard now, powerful strokes that take you the fuck out, cumming in moments with a few strokes, making him whimper.

That’s a sound you know he’s never made.

You may be delusional, but you’re sure you’ve only heard him whimper for you, you’ve never seen that look in his eyes on any video or stream, not when he’s staring right into your fucking soul and slamming his cock deep over and over. You’re barely able to cling to the earth, so much pleasure rushing through your body, you feel every vein and ridge of that huge cock as it fucks into you.

“Perfect, pussy is perfect, fucking knew it but god. God… fucking feel her,” he slams into you again, head falling back, giving you a view of his throat before he eyes you once more, shaking his head and slamming his cock harder. “Can she take it?”

You just nod, you’d take anything, the way it feels to be ruined by Satoru Gojo is far beyond his balls slapping your ass, his cock stretching your cunt, his hands bruising your fucking thighs, no it was more. You want to be filled by him, folded under him, you want every bit of it, losing yourself in him, in his bright blue eyes, in his filthy fucking words, in his cock slamming your cervix.

You were ruined, and you knew it.

You feel too much, far too much, when he’s leaned back, holding your thighs high and watching his cock pull out and enter, slowing and rubbing your abused clit. “F-fuck, cum one more time, I’m close… your cunt is so fucking perfect, shit… c’mon, like a good girl, there you go baby…”

It’s like that goddamn dream.

Word for word.

You cum harder than you have, when he shoves into the hilt, stuffing your slutty little hole, blinded and dizzy, hardly able to breathe, while he watches you shatter under him, so fucking beautiful he can’t take it. Your brows drawn together, that sweat making your skin glisten, your mouth open in the sluttiest O, he can hardly stand what the image does to him.

He knows it then, he’s fucking beyond destroyed, and terrified at that fact, at the power you’re oblivious to over him. He almost busts inside you, something he has never done - he doesn’t even go without condoms - the thoughts of filling your cunt full are far, far too tempting. He stops himself, cursing and holding his slick cock at the base while you’re spasming around him, back arching.

“Where do you want all this cum, sweetheart?” He manages to ask, you’re so fucked out you’re dizzy, blinking Satoru’s white hair and pretty face into view as he pulses inside you, just thickening and making you whimper.

“W-what… where… you want, I… mnh!” You’re still cumming, aftershocks rocking you, making your skin so sensitive when he eases your sore thighs down, parting them and pulling out finally, stroking himself as you catch your breath, watching him spurt thick white ropes all over your cunt. “Oh! Oh…”

“Fuck, fuck… god… oh my…” He’s moaning as he’s desperately jerking his slick cock, so much cum it seems impossible, since he just busted so much, and you watch him, enthralled as the hot sticky sperm is coating your cunt. “God, look at it, fucking look at us baby.”

He’s too much, he’s too much.

You thought him eating you out fucked you up mentally, what is he, his insane ass eyes bright as he trembles, strong muscles bunching and tensing, a work of fucking art pouring his cum on you. You’re stuck, at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing, brain not even functional as you look up at this man, knowing this isn’t just sex, it fucking couldn’t be.

It can’t be like this with someone.

You almost spill every feeling then and there, lost in him, in his desperation when he rests his head on yours, moaning against your lips, tip brushing your engorged clit and making you whine out. “God, your pussy is too perfect, it’s… you’re too perfect, feel too good, look too good…”

“Satoru, are you okay?” You whisper softly, he’s slurring his words, almost hard to understand in their hushed whispers in between his pants.

He can’t even answer, pulling back and looking at your pretty cunt, all abused from his cock and puffy, covered in his white ropes. “Can I have a picture? Please, just for me.”

“Y-you want one?” He laughs softly, breathless, nodding, and you heat up at it, looking down shyly. 

“Only you can be adorable with your pussy beat up and coated in cum, huh?”

“Oh god!” He can’t take it, how cute you are, the affection eating at him, as he takes a deep breath, leaning back. “Just one.”

“Fuck…” He takes the phone, eyeing the amount of comments and tips while your breasts heave, trying to catch your breath, sticky cum dripping across your folds when you shift your hips.

“What is it?” You ask softly, he shows you the number, and your eyes nearly bulge out. “Holy fuck!?”

“This is good even for me, shit. Pussy is made for porn.” You’re blushing harder, biting your lower lip when he angles the camera, taking several photos and exhaling at how pretty it looks. “God, look at you.”

“Are you talking to me or my pussy?” He grins then, so boyish and charming it’s as if he wasn’t just fucking you into a mating press and filming your cunt. “Also I said one!”

“Sorry. I’ll make it up.” He’s kissing your thighs then, lapping some of his own cum off your slit, you gasp at the sensation, his tongue on your sore, overstimulated pussy now. Your hands entangle in his hair as he groans. “Fucking taste us.”

“Satoru you’re in-insane and- mnh! Fuck!” You’re shaking when he laps more off of you, desperately lapping at every inch of your cunt now. “Satoru!”

“Gotta clean my pretty costar up, she’s only my costar you know, only one I’ve ever-” He pauses, stopping himself, when you eye him, breasts still gently moving up and down as you eye him.

“Only one you’ve… ngh! Satoru!”

“Taste us.” He’s lapped more of his cum and yours, murmuring for you to open, which you eagerly do, letting him spit his cum and yours in your throat. “Swallow, there you go, see it’s perfect, huh?”

You’re lost then, in the filthy string of words, when he’s back down cleaning you up with a tongue that’s lethal in its precision, rocking his cock on the bed, hard for the third time with you as he moans desperately against you. He’s latched onto your clit, sucking, while you can’t stop cumming, pushed past overstimulation, but not once do you tell him to stop.

You want it.

You need it.

In tears from how much you’ve cum, desperate for more, swapping his cum and yours mixing, against your tongues as he talks you through it, as you lose yourself, Jenna told you not to, she told you not to forget. You are trying to keep it separated, but how the fuck can you?

It felt worth losing yourself, for him, under him, him inside you - around you - taking over everything, while he’s back inside you, his lips murmuring desperate, dirty words into your sweet mouth. When you’re so fucked out you actually pass out blissfully in his arms, you can’t even remember the girl you were a few weeks ago, waking up just to be filled by him again from behind.

Being in his arms, you hope it’ll counteract the pain when he moves on, when he’s kissing you while fucking you from the back, sweet little nothings against your lips filling the room along with the squelching of his cock filling your cunt again. Every inch of your body kissed by him, licked by him, head to your fucking toes, shifting you to some other dimension as you drink each other in, exhausted and desperate.

You’ll think about that pain later, for now it’s all pleasure, aside from the ache in your heart for more, endlessly more.

The love on this story is so sweet, it's FAR from over. Please be patient as these are long chaps and I have other projects, if you're not on the tags you can subscribe to me on ao3 or turn on notifs <3 Can't wait to hear your thoughts

Taglist 1 - @rjreins @juicu @kalulakunundrum @gojoswaterbottle @aldebrana @simp-plague @wedojustbevibin @lucciferr0 @officialholyagua @privthemis @coffee-and-geto @homesickes @msniks @emi311 @mai-505 @gojoslovelylover @ren-ren23 @yihona-san06 @emochosoluvr @sylvermoon @bunheadusa @karvokr @starmapz @queenexplosonmurderr @musiclover2119 @saitamaswifey @reagan707 @midorissi @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @itsinherited @maisiefrancesca @gyarubunny @theonlyhonoredone @chosslut @simperisksksk @xlilycoco @howlsdarling @femaholicc @maymaymarch @miseryyouth-99 @swoozleee @zeunys @cryingdevil @leafynightmares @princess-bblgm @gojosconsort @insomnicshello @joonunivrs @myahfig4 @silviscosplay

[wintrbears]

Cradle Robbers: The First Trimester | JJK

Summary: Jungkook makes a proposition you can't don't want to refuse, and there are seemingly no consequences to your friendship at first, but then you miss you period and have to explain to all your loved ones how you got knocked up by your childhood best friend.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

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

Word Count: 26k+

Warnings: unexpected pregnancy, fear, anxiety, crying, screaming, arguing, vomiting, cravings, drinking (not OC), mention of withdrawal, doctor's offices, ultrasounds, pregnancy tests, mentions of a break-up, pet names (bambi/bams, babygirl, baby), cats, dogs, wealth, sex in a movie, tickling, karaoke, medication, talk of childbirth, periods, birth control failure, video games, parental expectations. SMUT: kissing, unprotected sex (obviously), neck kissing, penetrative sex, missionary, dick riding, sideways/from behind, oral sex (both receiving), face riding, face fucking, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms, BIG DICK JK!!!, spanking, cream pie, titty sucking, pleasuring with underwear, ripping underwear, implication of sexual favors, hickies, soreness, aftercare, masturbation (f), cuddling, cock warming, alright I think that's all folks!

Author's Note: it's finally hereeee. this is the first of three parts for my new series and i'm so, so excited to share it with you guys! koo and bambi have my whole heart along with all their friends and family we meet. I know pregnancy fics aren't always the most loved, but I assure you this Jungkook is so worth it... he's tooth-rottingly sweet and soooo sexy! also, I linked the video of the boys performance bc it's too freaking good not to watch, so look out for that (and also ignore yoongi not actually being there lmao). please let me know what you guys think and/or any predications you have for the next chapter, the baby's name and/or gender, etc. I LOVE hearing what you guys have to say! OK ily bye :)

ZERO

The sound of some garbage eating rodent is the first thing you hear after kicking your apartment door open with the tip of your boot. Muscle memory brings your hand to the light switch, but you aren’t able to flip it up because the lights are already on. So, the rodent is big enough to reach that height… wonderful. 

You toe your boots off and hang your coat up, tossing your keys in the old stolen ashtray you use to house them. When you round the corner, the familiar, lovable vermin is bent over as he rummages through your fridge. 

It’s ridiculous, honestly, given that this particular species of rat earns quadruple your salary. 

“Koo,” you get his attention. 

“Hm?”

He doesn’t budge an inch when responding to the call of his nickname. Eyes rolling back, you stroll over and smack his ass as hard as you can.

“Yo!” Jungkook jerks up and just barely misses hitting his head on the refrigerator. “Take me to dinner first.”

“I am,” you reply. “You’re eating my food.”

Jungkook smiles innocently and squishes your cheeks with his fingers before shaking your head back and forth. 

“And I’m so, so grateful,” he teases in a baby voice. 

You swat his hand away, but the light in your eyes and the remnants of a smile on your face reveal your true feelings about his teasing.

This predicament is one of your own creation, since you gave Jungkook a key a while ago in case of emergencies. The issue is, an emergency for Jungkook can be your place being closer to the gym than his, and he needs a snack after his workout. In your mind, the purpose was so he can bring you chocolate ice cream on your period and take down intruders. He’s only done one of those things so far, and the intruder was a stray cat.

Falling to your couch with a soft thump, you groan and tilt your head back against the cushions. Today was egregiously long and definitely not worth the money it made you. The only upside is it’s Friday and you have two whole days to lounge around your apartment and do nothing at all. 

Jungkook comes around the peninsula which separates your kitchen from your living room with a fresh bowl of instant ramen in his hands. He blows on the noodles for a second before slurping them into his mouth, all without noticing the glare you’re sending his way. His eyes crinkle when he sees you, letting you know he’s smiling, even though you can’t see his mouth behind the bowl. 

“What’s with the face, Bambi?” 

“You seriously didn’t think of making one for me?” You ask through a pout.

You finally see Jungkook’s smile when he lowers the bowl to place it on the peninsula. He looks proud, his head tilting as he chuckles to himself. 

Then, you hear the microwave go off, and your glare quickly turns into a grin. 

Jungkook grabs the second bowl from the microwave and sets it on the counter. You watch appreciatively as he rips open the sauce packet before putting it between his teeth and using his chopsticks to pour it all into the bowl. The crinkle of a cheese wrapper opening brings your eyebrows up your forehead in delight. He drops the orange square into the bowl and mixes everything together with the chopsticks before holding it out towards you. 

“You gonna take that shit back now or what?”

You beam and giggle as you stand, practically skipping across the room so you can take the bowl of delicious noodles from him.

“Thank you,” you sing-song.

“Mmhmm.”

The two of you eat on your couch in a slurp filled ambiance. It’s an old, familiar scene and one you always appreciate even if you don’t say it outloud. 

They say you choose your friends, but Jungkook was pretty much forced on you. Your mothers are college roommates who became best friends and later married another pair of best friends. The women proceeded to plot and plan accordingly so they would be pregnant together and their kids would be the same age. Unfortunately, your parents went off script by about six months, but you and Jungkook are still close enough in age to be in the same grade throughout school. 

Even though your friendship was intricately planned long before your conception, you’re close of your own volition. 

Jungkook is not only your best friend, but the most amazing person you know and probably in existence. You wouldn’t trade him for the world if it came down to it. In fact, if the zombie apocalypse ever happens, and somehow his death is the only way to find a cure, you will Joel Miller-style kill every single person who dares to try and take him from you. They can rip your dorky, caring, smart-ass best friend from your cold, dead hands. Everyone else can become zombies for all you care, everyone but him.

The sound of a bowl meeting the coffee table pulls your attention back to the man beside you. He kicks his feet up and stretches his arms above his head in relaxation. When the action reveals a sliver of skin from below the hem of his shirt, you use the opportunity to tickle him and laugh when he groans and folds into himself.

“Is this really the game you wanna play, Bams?” He speaks to the floor, still hunching over from your attack.

Bambi, or Bams for short, is the only name Jungkook calls you. Sometimes, you jokingly accuse him of forgetting your real name altogether, which then spurs him on to attempt “guessing” what it is. Ironically, neither of you nor your parents can recall the origin of the nickname. Like some strange Mandela effect, one day he started calling you by the Disney character’s name and never stopped. 

If memory serves correctly, you think the last time you heard the syllables of your name leave his mouth was in fifth grade when he defended you against a clique of mean girls. Something along the lines of “leave my Y/N alone,” in his adorable kiddie Jungkook voice.

He’s certainly gone through some drastic changes since then. His voice now filters out in a deep, honey tone, he doesn’t use his bangs to conceal his starry eyes anymore, and he’s got you beat by a few inches in height. You’re different, too, mostly in the way you no longer need him to defend you on the playground. He still would, though, and he often tries on nights out when someone tries testing your patience. 

Jungkook would never hurt a fly, but he’s got an entire sleeve of tattoos, multiple piercings, and broad shoulders, so he uses his outward appearance to his advantage and scares people away when necessary.

You don’t respond to his taunt, instead you slowly slide across the fabric of the couch, as quietly as you can so he doesn’t pick up on the movement. He, of course, notices right away, and a cheshire grin appears before your eyes.

Standing up like lightning, you make a break for your bedroom, but you only reach the back of the couch before his arms are clinching you by the waist. 

“No!” You shout and kick the air as he tugs you back towards the furniture. 

“You asked for this.”

“Koo, no!” 

He drops you unceremoniously onto the cushions where you flail in an attempt to escape, but it’s futile because Jungkook is already bending down to tickle your sides. Hysterical laughter fills the space as his fingertips pitter-patter on your skin. Your best friend is ruthless as always, never halting his actions even as you squirm and swat at him to get away. 

“Say you’re sorry, Bambi.”

“Jungkook, I’m gonna fucking pee my pants,” you threaten.

“Not my problem,” he responds. 

You gasp and recoil when he starts tickling your neck, rendering you completely useless to do anything but suffer. Eventually, your brain returns from its momentary vacation and you find the will to fight back, grabbing his hands and pulling them away as you attempt to catch your breath. Jungkook’s smiling like the devil himself above you and you resist the urge to slap the smirk right off his handsome face.

This behavior is par for the course for you both, because you’re a brat who likes to test his limits, and he’s too competitive to let you have the last laugh. 

Jungkook stands to his full height, smirk still intact, while you struggle to slow your jackrabbiting heart. He moseys over to your bookshelf to survey its contents, and once you’re sitting up again, you chuck a throw pillow across the room at him. It meets his back before pathetically falling to the floor. Jungkook doesn’t even flinch. He just shakes his head and tsks at your feeble attempt at payback.

His fingers trace over the items occupying your bookshelf before settling on a thin rectangle and removing it from its home.

“Movie night?” 

He rests the corner of the DVD case against his head to show it off to you. You call him towards you with your hand so you can inspect the item for yourself. It houses a movie you haven’t seen in a long time, some low budget rom com with good sex scenes. Shrugging, you nod your head at him and watch as he goes to play the movie in your now ancient DVD player.

“I’ll go make popcorn,” you announce before standing and heading to the kitchen. 

Jungkook plummets into the couch and grabs your fuzzy blanket to spread over his legs. When you return with a large bowl of popcorn to share, he lifts the blanket and readjusts it to cover your legs as well. 

Neither of you pay much attention to the plot, too busy joking around when characters say stupid lines. You spend your time talking about your week and any plans for the upcoming weekend instead. Jungkook’s just finishing up his story about his boss accidentally unmuting himself on Teams when the first sex scene catches your attention. You both actually focus on the screen for the first time and Jungkook tilts his head while tonguing his cheek as the male character descends down the female character’s body and kisses her skin as he goes. 

“Do you ever think about it?” He asks as he throws a kernel of popcorn into the air and catches it with his mouth. 

“About what?” You look towards the screen. “Sex?” He nods and puts his arm behind you on the couch so he can face you. “Like, in general, or —”

“No, no,” Jungkook chuckles. “Like us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, have you thought about us having sex?”

The popcorn in your mouth goes down the wrong tube when you choke in response to his question. You hit your chest once to help it descend your esophagus before reaching for your drink on the coffee table. The time it takes you to gulp down the fizzy beverage isn’t nearly enough for you to gather your thoughts.

“Koo, what the actual fuck,” you scold him. 

“Is that a no?” He raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Because I know I have.”

“Ew, when?” 

“It’s not often, just like, every once in a while,” he explains. “I just think it would be fun! This is not me making some grandstand announcement about how I’ve always wanted you or some shit.” He readjusts so his entire body faces you directly. “Listen, we’ve done everything together. Skydiving, parasailing, swimming with dolphins, stealing from the grocery store, sneaking into the movies, you name it. Doesn’t it make sense that we should do everything before we aren’t able to anymore?”

“You forced me to go skydiving, Jungkook.” 

“That’s not the point, Bambi,” he playfully grits his teeth. “Eventually, we’re gonna settle down with our own partners and the window of opportunity will be gone. Why not try something new together while we still can?” 

Your teeth hold your bottom lip captive as your mind processes his proposal. Truthfully, you have thought about it, same as him. Not in some romantic, storybook way, but just from a perspective of knowing he’s a handsome guy with a great build and it would probably be a fun night for both of you. This conversation scares the shit out of you, though. Thinking about it is one thing, but attempting to manifest it into reality is a whole other beast. The list of things that could go wrong is longer than a CVS receipt. Then again, you and Jungkook have been through everything together and you’ve always made it out on the other side. 

“Koo, I don’t know…” you admit. “I love me some good casual sex with no feelings involved, but this is us we’re talking about.”

“Exactly!” He claps his hands together eagerly. “It’s us, probably the only two people in the whole world who nothing can come between.” Jungkook sighs and eats more popcorn from the bowl still in your lap. “I’m not trying to pressure you, Bams, I just really think we’d both have a great time. I mean, I’m hot, you’re hot, I’ve got a big dick, I’m sure your pussy is tight, what else could you want?”

You laugh at his reasoning, throwing your head back and holding the position as you blow air from your mouth. A couple anticipatory moments pass as your mind weighs the options. A large intake of air fills your lungs before you lift your head.

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Okay?”

“Okay, Koo.”

Jungkook giggles like a little kid, his feet stamping the ground repeatedly as he pumps his arms in excitement. Your laughter returns in response to his celebration, rolling your eyes affectionately at the familiar behavior of your childhood best friend.

“You said yes because I called you tight, is that it?”

Shaking your head, you push his shoulder back with your hand, using your other one to place the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. Jungkook’s eyes turn into big oases of black as his pupils dilate and conceal the normal chocolate color of his irises. You take your time straddling his thighs, your knees digging into the couch beside his hips. 

“No,” you answer him. Making a show of flipping your hair over your shoulder and bending down until you’re face to face. You avoid his lips, which are pouting slightly, to place a kiss over the tiny mole on his neck. “I said yes because you said you have a big dick and now I need to find out if that’s true,” you whisper into his ear. 

Your voice has a sultry edge you’ve never used in his presence before. Sitting back on your heels, you gaze at him with an innocent smile as you bat your eyelashes. 

Jungkook’s look of surprise is long gone, his eyes sharpening until they’re a quarter of their normal size as he stares you down. The muscles in his jaw clench and the skin of his brow creases, his eyebrows nearly kissing. Your eyes catch the thick vein in his neck pulsing with adrenaline and it makes your thighs tingle.

He laughs incredulously, running a hand through his hair as he tongues his cheek.

“Alright, so we’re doing it this way,” he muses.

In an instant, Jungkook is grabbing your hips and slamming you down into his lap. You gasp and brace yourself on his shoulders. Your reaction brings a satisfied smirk to his face, and you have the urge to roll your eyes again, but then his fingers rake into your hair and he yanks the strands to expose your throat. A needy whine passes through your lips as your neck beckons him to give it attention. He places a single, gentle kiss to your pulse point before leaving you wanting. A second noise of complaint is about to leave you when Jungkook finally starts devouring your neck with his mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan quietly. 

Jungkook chuckles melodiously against the wet spots he’s leaving on you. The feeling of his warm breath on your skin forms goosebumps across your arms and sends a shiver straight down your spine. His teeth are maiming your neck as he works diligently to paint you in pretty, purple bruises shaped like his mouth. Once the artwork appears before his eyes, he licks over the mark and kisses it before moving to conquer another spot. 

Meanwhile, your hips spring into action and you start moving in languid circles across his lap. The initial plan is to keep the pressure of your movements teasingly light, but once you feel the apparent bulge forming in his pants, you can’t resist grinding down hard against his clothed cock. 

Jungkook groans responsively and bites into your skin with his canines.

Soon enough, he ceases his assault on your neck so his lips can travel across your shoulder instead. His fingers push your shirt down your arm so he can kiss and lick your skin unimpeached. You moan loudly, the rhythm of your hips picking up in tempo as he seeks out every inch of exposed skin he can.

“Fuck, I could come in my fucking pants, Bams,” he whispers. “Please don’t stop.”

His words only motivate you to push your hips into him harder. He groans again and nods his head approvingly. You agree with him internally, the friction from your underwear rubbing against your clit steadily sending you into a frenzy.

“So good, Koo.”

Jungkook hums and leans back to appreciate the portrait of his lips he’s left on you. His fingertips gently trace over the hickies and he wears a proud smile as he turns your head back and forth to examine his work. 

“You look so pretty, all marked up,” he praises. 

Pushing him down by his shoulders, you grab his face with both hands to kiss him. There’s an electric shock when your lips meet for the first time, but you aren’t sure if it’s only in your head or if he felt it, too. 

The kiss is anything but romantic. Within seconds you’re licking into his mouth and chasing his tongue while his teeth pull at your bottom lip. Jungkook moans and his fingers press down against your scalp. Tilting your head, you kiss him like he’s your only source of oxygen. Your body and mind are in overdrive, your thighs twitching with need and you need his lips to bring you back down to earth. 

He tastes sweet like the cola he was drinking and it makes your head spin. The pretty, pink, doll lips you’ve always admired are magical in the way they move. Jungkook has you trapped between his mouth and the hand on your head, but you don’t mind when he’s kissing you until your mind blanks. 

It's a scramble of fingers and hands as you undress one another as fast as humanly possible. His warm hands brush against your stomach as he lifts your top over your head. You feel his abs beneath your fingers when you tug off his shirt. Jungkook accidentally pinches your skin when unhooking your bra and you don’t even notice, too busy kissing him like your life depends on it.

When Jungkook sees your tits for the first time, he fucking loses it. His head hits the arm of the couch as it falls back, and the growl that comes from deep within his throat is fucking demonic. 

“God, you are so fucking hot,” he declares.

You’re unable to respond because he’s already wrapping his mouth around your nipple and tweaking the other with his fingers, forcing the air from your lungs instantaneously. Jungkook’s tongue circles your nipple a couple times before he sucks the erect nub into his mouth, keeping the same pace with his fingers on your other breast. 

The moans coming from you are unrecognizable in comparison to your normal timbre, and they only grow in volume when Jungkook switches sides and repeats his debilitating ministrations.

Lacing your fingers through his black strands, you pull his face away from your chest to see his eyes. He barely looks like himself anymore, a scorching fire behind his usual soft gaze. The image lights you up inside, and you kiss him again hard enough that he tumbles back into the couch cushions and brings you along with him. 

His hands explore the smooth skin of your back and shoulders, massaging you with his big hands as he traverses across the previously uncharted territory. 

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook,” you tell him as you kiss his jaw. “Everything about you.”

His skin is searing hot and flushed red, the tint going all the way down his neck and chest. You take your time moving across his jawline and throat, sucking just below his ear and letting your tongue trace the perimeter of his earlobe. Descending down his torso, you kiss his collarbones and pecs while digging your nails into his abs, your ample attempt at showing him exactly what you mean by your comment. 

“Need you, Bambi, so fucking bad,” he whines.

The only acknowledgment you give him is by looking up with a devilish smirk before your hands start to unbutton his jeans. You pull them down just enough to reveal his boxers and hold his eye contact while you kiss the fabric covering his cock. Jungkook’s hips twitch and his eyes squeeze shut, an undeniably sexy groan leaving him. Your hands caress his thighs while you mouth at his boxers and you can feel him getting harder with each press of your lips.

He hurries to pull his pants down the rest of the way while you hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. When you tease him by letting them snap against his hips, he hisses and you see his Adam's apple bob. His hips buck towards your face desperately, making you snicker at his attempt to create friction. 

“Patience, Koo,” you tease him. Jungkook grits his teeth at your taunt, but only a second later the tension seeps from his body when you reach into his boxers and palm him. “Let’s see if you were exaggerating or not, hmm?”

Once his boxers are gone, you realize he was, in fact, under exaggerating. He knows it, too, because when you glance up, he’s smirking with pride, one corner of his mouth higher than the other. 

“Whaddaya think?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“How about you see how much that pretty mouth of yours can take?” 

One thing about you and Jungkook is you're both competitive as hell, and you’ll be damned if his whole dick isn’t situated down your throat soon just to prove a point.

Gathering spit in your mouth, you lean directly over his hard cock and let it slowly fall from your lips to his head. You wait for the sound of Jungkook moaning before doing it again, this time actually spitting instead of letting it drip down. Your hand gathers the saliva to spread it over his head and down his shaft. Your best friend is panting above you as he studies the way you work his cock with your hand. 

Jungkook is stupid fucking big, and you genuinely fear he’ll split you in half when you fuck. Not only is his dick long, but it’s so thick your fingertips don’t touch when you grasp him. He’s rock hard and throbbing in your hold and there’s a perfect bead of precum just waiting for you to lick. 

When you do, Jungkook cries out in pleasure and it's hands down the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. He’s always been the tough one between you, and having him like puddy in your hands is more satisfying than you care to admit. 

Your tongue flattens over his slit and you groan at the taste of his cum, your mouth already watering at the thought of more coming your way. You lick around his head in one long stroke and then circle your tongue just under the sensitive ridge. Jungkook whines at the feeling of your tongue on his aching dick. Your hand is still using your self-made lubricant to glide up and down his shaft. 

“Bams, fuck,” Jungkook pants the words across staccato exhales. 

It’s nearly impossible for you to say no to the man begging for your mouth, so you finally end your teasing and take him between your lips. You suckle on his head and let more saliva drip down his shaft before removing your hand to focus solely on the movements of your mouth. Your hands hold onto his muscular thighs as you finally take him deeper into your throat.

It definitely takes time for your lips and throat to adjust to his size. Each time you slide down his cock you take more of him into your mouth until your nose hits his pelvis. You breathe through your nose and stay there for a moment, swallowing and moaning around him. 

“Oh, shit.” Jungkook looks down at you in awe, watching in wonder at the way your lips stretch around his cock. “Bambi, holy fucking shit.” 

The chuckle you release sends vibrations around Jungkook’s dick and his hips buck up responsively. You moan again and squeeze his thighs, attempting to send a message that he’s free to repeat the action. He must interpret your message accurately because you feel him forming your hair into a makeshift ponytail and thrusting his hips up. 

Jungkook would never want to hurt you, so even though his body is screaming at him to animalisticaly fuck your mouth, his thrusts are shallow and modest.

Even so, his strokes make you gag every time his tip hits the back of your throat. He’s pulling on your hair and the sensation of being used like a sex toy makes your eyes roll back. Tears form and roll down to meet the drool that’s leaking from your mouth. Breathing through your nose, you suck harder to make a tighter fit for him. He’s appreciative, growling and yanking on your hair as a thank you. 

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” he warns you. Hearing his words, you massage his heavy balls in your hand to push him over the edge. A broken moan comes from above you and his hips start to lose their cadence as his orgasm nears. “Can I… your throat…”

His words are clipped, but you understand and squeeze his thigh to give him permission. Within a single moment you start tasting his cum at the back of your throat. Moaning endlessly at how good he tastes, you move your lips up and down his cock as he comes, swallowing his seed and licking him clean at the same time. 

When you’re certain you’ve stolen every last drop and sucked him dry, you come up for air with a harsh gasp.

“Holy fuck,” you curse and massage your jaw. 

Jungkook grabs your chin with his hand and makes you look at him so he can see that you’re alright. You nod assuredly and sit back on your heels. 

“That was, on God, the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jungkook states. 

You laugh and shove his chest, but he snatches your hand and pulls you towards him. He kisses you like he fucking means it, grabbing the side of your face so you can’t move an inch. Your moans meet in each other’s mouths as Jungkook sucks on your tongue to taste himself. 

“Can we move this party to the bedroom?”

Jungkook nods, his hand still caressing your face, before helping you up so you can both head to your room at the back of the apartment. When the door opens, your grey munchkin cat scurries out from behind the door. 

“Oh, Usagi, I forgot you were in there,” you say as she bolts for her scratching post. 

“Probably a good thing,” Jungkook notes, his eyes gesturing down to his dick still on display. 

You chuckle and grab his hand to lead him into the room before shutting the door behind you. He immediately takes a seat on the bed while you stay standing to pull your pants down your legs. 

Jungkook’s eyes trace the movement, his pupils blowing even wider when he sees your black lace panties and the evident wet spot on them. Reaching his hand out, you take it and stand between his legs. Your hands push his hair back, scratching at his scalp to hear the pretty moan that accompanies the movement. 

He leans forward and kisses your abdomen, just above your panties. You sigh as his lips traverse the expanse of your stomach and hips, leaving a hot, wet trail in their wake. 

“Koo, need you,” you whimper. 

The feeling of his teeth sinking into the skin of your waist makes you jump, but then he soothes the ache with his tongue. 

“You know, since you made me come already, I’m going to have to fuck you in other ways until I’m ready to go again,” he states. You hum in acknowledgment and he rests his chin against you to gaze upwards. “You gonna be able to handle that, Bams?”

“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep.”

Jungkook scoffs and turns you around, slapping your ass harshly before pulling you down into his lap. You yelp at the sudden change in position, but the feeling of his warm chest on your back makes you melt into his embrace. 

“Do you even know me at all, Bams?” He scoffs again. “How many orgasms have you had in one night before?”

“Like… three?”

“Pussy fucking numbers,” he snaps. “We’re aiming for double digits here.”

“Jungkook!” You look over your shoulder at him in shock, but his facial expression is completely serious. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m really fucking not.” 

“I’ll die.”

Jungkook just shakes his head disapprovingly and licks his lips. He grabs your jaw to turn your head, his hand diving into your hair again to hold you in place so he can ravish your mouth. His kiss has you completely hypnotized and you barely remember the conversation you were just having.

“How about we compromise and aim for five?” He suggests.

You want to kiss him too badly to muster a response, so you just hum in affirmation before turning around and bringing his lips to yours. He pulls you into him as he falls back onto the bed. Your legs return to their position on either side of his muscular thighs, and your lips work earnestly to kiss every inch of his face and jaw until they reach his neck. 

Your clothed cunt grinds over his dick as you mark him with a matching bruise to your own, the friction created by your panties making you groan. You continue to lick and torment the delicate skin of his neck while he guides your movements with his hands. 

All too soon, Jungkook stops you by grabbing your shoulder and you eye him curiously. His eyes flit around the features of your face for a minute. When he smiles in satisfaction, you know he’s got a tantalizing idea for how he’s going to make you come. 

“Sit on my face,” he commands. 

You don’t need to be told twice to get your pussy ate. 

Jungkook moves to the center of the bed and taps his chest to beckon you over. Bending to remove your panties, you look up in surprise when Jungkook halts your actions by grabbing your wrist. 

“How expensive were those?” He asks. 

“$20 maybe.”

“Leave ‘em on, I’ll buy you new ones.”

Sometimes you conveniently forget your best friend is rich until moments like these when he reminds you. 

When you and Jungkook were in college he coded and designed an entire video game in his spare time, because he’s a freaking genius, and then he sold said video game for millions of dollars. Now he works as a lead designer at the biggest video game company in the country and consistently makes six figures. 

Jungkook has a huge dick and an even bigger bank account, and here you thought God made everyone equal.

Shrugging at his instruction, you do as he says and climb onto the bed. As tactfully as possible, you maneuver your legs around Jungkook’s head and sit up on your knees so your core is a few inches above his mouth. His hands hold your hips and he takes the time to trace over your curves while looking up at your pussy slowly soaking the lace of your underwear. 

After several long moments of eager anticipation, he yanks you down by your thighs until the tip of his nose is tickling you. Your head tips back as you sigh, the feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit through your underwear satiating the craving for his touch. He presses a few chaste kisses to the black fabric as he nuzzles his nose into your cunt to give you more friction. You grip his hair beneath you as he continues to tease you with featherlight touches of his nose and mouth. 

“Koo, don’t,” you beg. 

His only reply is a hum and you feel the vibrations from it against your core. Then he bites at your underwear to give him access to your pussy before licking you from bottom to top. The fabric sinks between your folds as Jungkook’s tongue presses the panties into you and the friction feels unbelievable on your clit. 

Your hand yanks on his hair in appreciation as he continues to eat you out and use your sopping wet panties to pleasure you. 

Once he’s ready for more, his hands move towards your cunt and a loud ripping sound permeates the air. You gasp when you feel him throw your torn panties to the side before forcing your pussy down harder on his face. He collects all the essence you’re leaking with an erotic slurping sound. His tongue slides through your folds and fucks into your hole while his nose continues to apply pressure to your clit.

“Holy shit, Jungkook.”

He laughs against your pussy and slows down just enough so you can hear him.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Bams.”

Your free hand claws at the bed frame haphazardly as he eats you like it’s his goddamn job. He kisses your cunt messily, spitting into it and smearing your cum around his face along with his own salvia. His tongue travels up to your clit and the pure, unadulterated pleasure makes you scream. When he flattens the muscle against your sensitive nub you swear you’ll fall over, but his hands on your thighs are still holding you steady above him. 

“Koo, holy fuck.” Your head tips back and your nails bite into the fabric of the headboard. “Make me come, please.”

Jungkook moans responsively beneath you and dives in even deeper, licking you menacingly without reprieve while guiding your hips to ride his face. You take the hint and begin moving your hips on your own, letting your pussy press against all the outlines of his face as his tongue laps up your juices. 

He returns to your clit again and scrapes his teeth against it, causing tears to escape from your waterline as you whimper. Soothing the ache of his bite with his tongue, he slows to a tortuous pace as he kitten licks you for a while. You’re crying continuously now, your hips desperately seeking anything they can get as you move across his face in an erratic rhythm. Jungkook takes pity on you and finally sucks your clit into his mouth before moaning so he can send you right over the edge.

Your hand sinks further into Jungkook’s hair and your nails scratch his scalp as you come all over his face. The bedframe rocks from how hard you’re holding on while your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. Absolute, unbridled euphoria moves through you and makes your eyes roll back. 

Jungkook continues to lick your cunt until you jump from the oversensitivity and move away from his face. You hear a disappointed groan as you crash onto the bed beside him. 

“You taste so fucking good, Bams,” he tells you. “I could do that all fucking night.”

Chest swelling with pride, you’re about to reply when you feel something against your back and frown in confusion. The scratchy material rubs awkwardly against you and you bend away from it to grab it. 

Your soaked, ripped panties dangle from your fingers as you click your tongue and throw them into the trash can. 

“You’re a fucking gremlin,” you note.

Jungkook doesn’t respond to your statement, he just maintains eye contact while moving to kneel before pulling you closer by the waist. The pretty vision of him above you makes your breath hitch. 

His hand travels ostentatiously from your neck all the way down to your hip, lighting an internal fire within you wherever his touch goes. You wait with bated breath as his fingers dance across your skin until they reach your center. Jungkook deliberately teases you, his fingertips just barely touching your clit before moving away again.

You hiss and grab his wrist so his hand can’t move towards your pussy again.

“What?” Jungkook smiles down at you with a tilt of his head. “You’re not ready for more yet? We’re only at one of five, Bambi, we’ve got a lot more work to do.” He twists his hand out of your hold and presses down on your clit. You whimper and silently beg him with your eyes. “Plus, I’m an overachiever, so you know five is really going to be more like seven.”

“Seven?”

“Ilgop.”

“Fuck, don’t speak Korean to me right now. You know how hot it gets me.”

Jungkook giggles, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You smile at the sound and run your fingers through his hair. 

He takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, and you instinctively lean your head away to give him more of you. His lips caress you gently for a while, but then he growls against your throat and grabs your jaw to hold you still. Your gasp settles into a moan and Jungkook takes it as a cue to continue playing with your pussy. His fingers circle your clit and your noises become even needier. He dips into your folds to collect your cum so he can rub over your nerve endings and it nearly expels all the air from your lungs. 

Jungkook  touches you like he’s done it a million times already and that thought alone leaves you breathless. 

“Koo, baby, please,” you whimper in a tone even you don’t recognize. Jungkook’s big, boba eyes are back when he captures your gaze to wordlessly ask what you’re begging him for. “I don’t want to come. I want you.”

A dazzling smile appears on Jungkook’s lips, and a pretty, pink blush spreads across his cheeks and turns the tips of his ears red. 

“Alright, Bambi,” he responds with a peck. “Condom?”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in for more kisses.

“I’m on birth control.”

Jungkook kisses you again before you can do so yourself.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod against his lips. “Want you raw, Koo.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook chuckles. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Jungkook goes to pump his cock with his hand, but before he has the chance, you bring his palm to your lips and spit into it. He groans, his eyes rolling back, as he reaches down and uses your spit to fuck his hand. 

Your eyes follow the movement of his wrist jerking himself off. It’s honestly mouthwatering to watch his thick cockhead push past his fingers as he gets himself hard again for you. 

He kisses your shoulder and collarbone, then licks up your neck until he reaches your ear. His teeth softly sink into the cartilage. 

“You ready for me, Bams?” 

His deep voice melts your insides into goo and forces your brain into another frequency. Everything is static except for the feeling of his body hovering above yours. 

All you do is nod your head in response to his question.

Jungkook’s tip pushes past your tight circle of nerves and already you feel too full to function. A wanton gasp and whimper follow the intrusion as he slowly enters you for the first time. Your nails create crescents on his shoulders as you inhale through your nose to relieve the pressure in your core.

“Koo… you’re so fucking big,” you whine. 

“I know, I know,” he chuckles. 

He kisses your temple appreciatively. 

By the time his entire cock is deep within your walls, his pelvis pressing against your own, you already feel yourself losing it. Jungkook fills you up completely, and you can barely bring yourself to exhale the air you’re holding in. 

“Fuck, Bambi, are you a virgin or some shit?”

“You know damn well I’m not a virgin,” you grit.

Jungkook groans deeply as his head falls forward and his hair tickles your cheeks when he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Then what the fuck are you so fucking tight for?” 

You loudly hum and pretend to think it over before glancing at him with a sultry tilt of your head.

“I think my pussy’s just that good,” you say. Pulling his face down so it’s only centimeters away, you let your lips brush for a split second before replying. “And it’s all yours, Jungkook. So fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook rears back and ferociously thrusts into you before your next breath can even exit your lungs. 

“Oh, fuck!” 

A sinister chuckle comes from your best friend.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

Any semblance of control is forcefully taken away when Jungkook grabs your hands and slams them into the mattress above your head. Simultaneously, he begins pumping his cock into you at a disastrous pace and you can’t do anything but incoherently moan. 

There’s no adjustment period, no slow-moving start. Jungkook is already fucking you like a goddamn ragdoll made solely for his pleasure. 

“Koo, oh my fucking God,” you cry. It’s barely been a minute and hot, salty tears are already streaming down your face. 

Jungkook kisses you and his moans filter into your mouth. His grip on your hands is bruising and it makes you whimper pathetically against his lips.  

“Jungkook,” you sob as he abuses your pussy. 

“Shh, shh.” He kisses you gently. “You can take it.” He kisses your cheek and up the side of your face. “I got you, Bams.”

You keen and your hands clasp around Jungkook’s in an effort to protect whatever’s left of your sanity. 

His cock is buried in your pussy but you swear you feel yourself choking on him in your throat. Everytime his tip kisses your cervix you fear being split in two and yet there’s nothing you want more than for him to continue. You want him to rip you in half if it means feeling this full. He’s combining his strokes with a grind of his hips and it makes your cunt greedy for him, sucking him inside and squeezing his cock so he’ll never leave again. 

Jungkook is throbbing and scorching hot inside you and the heat travels from your pussy throughout your entire body, lighting a fire in your bones and between your muscles that only he has the ability to stifle. 

Your senses are amped up to ten and you scream over how deep he’s sending his dick into you. 

The fire escapes externally when Jungkook releases your hands to explore your body instead. They travel down your entire outline until they find your hips and he tilts them upwards to create a new angle. 

“Fuck, I always knew your pussy would feel this good,” he grunts. “You’re a fucking dream.”

The combination of the closer angle and Jungkook’s praises genuinely turns you to ruins, scattering pieces of your soul around and covering them in ivy. You kiss him again even though you know there’s no use, you’re shattered already. You devour his mouth, responding to his compliment through the movement of your lips instead of the words your body can’t produce at the moment. 

Your fingers tilt his head so you can mouth at his sharp jaw, letting your tongue slide across his skin as he growls in your ear. Alternating between biting and kissing, you soak his honey skin in your spit and listen for the moans coming from deep within his chest. 

“You feel so good, Koo,” you whisper into his ear. “Your cock fills me up so fucking well.”

“Shit,” he grunts. Jungkook grabs your thighs and pulls them up higher until you’re practically bent in half, your knees next to his shoulders. “So fucking good. You take me like a fucking champ, Bambi.”

Jungkook slows his pace by a hair, but only so he can thrust into you harder. Each clap of your skin connecting pulls a pornographic moan from your throat. You feel his balls slapping against your ass and the way your bodies are pressing together adds just the right amount of pressure on your clit. 

It makes for a mind boggling combination that has your brain disintegrating into nothingness. 

Your next orgasm is looming just around the corner. It builds inside you like a rollercoaster slowly moving up the track. Jungkook ups his pace again when he feels the telltale signs of your cunt pulsing and tightening around him like a vice. 

“Cream my cock, Bams,” he commands. “C’mon, beautiful.”

A splintering gasp chokes you as you obey and come around his dick, coating his entire shaft in white essence. 

The climax is brain chemistry altering. It feels as though your blood is ablaze and your heart can’t beat fast enough to push it through your body. Your legs clamp around his waist as they shake and convulse from the pleasure. All the while, Jungkook continues fucking his cock into your hole and sending you straight into oversensitivity subspace. 

You’re still catching your breath when you grab Jungkook tightly by the shoulder to halt his movements. He looks at you with curious eyes, but he doesn’t completely stop, just slows down significantly and thrusts shallowly into you.

“Wanna ride you, Koo,” you tell him. “Wanna make you come so you can stuff me and watch it drip out.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, his teeth grinding together. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to bust!”

You laugh mischievously as he grabs you by the waist to flip you both over. Your bodies are only parted for a mere moment before you’re sinking back down onto his dick and scratching at his pecs with your nails. 

“Oh my God, I didn’t think it was possible for you to reach any further inside me,” you note.

“Of course, Bambi, gonna rearrange your fucking guts,” Jungkook proudly states.

It’s disturbing how exciting the thought of that is.

The rhythm of your hips is nowhere near as monstrous, letting his cock slowly leave your cunt before feeling him fill you up again one inch at a time. Using his chest to stabilize yourself, your thighs work religiously to bounce and fuck yourself on him. You look towards the ceiling, a groan rising from your throat due to his thick cock pressing against your walls and hitting just the right spot inside you. 

Jungkook reaches up to play with your tits dangling over his face, massaging them in his big hands before pushing them together. His fingers pinch your nipples until they’re pebbled and stiff. He leans forward to take one into his mouth and you have to grab onto his hair for support. 

He smacks your ass and you yelp, but you understand the message he’s trying to send and pick up the pace. You push him back down and lean over so your hard nipples are pressing against the heat of his chest. 

“Atta girl,” he praises with another stinging slap of his hand on your ass. His digits make a home in your hair again and he uses the leverage to force you to stare into his eyes. “Pussy s’fucking good, Bams.” Jungkook kisses across your neck torturously slow before speaking again. “So fucking tight, warm, wet… could stay in here for-fucking-ever.”

“Koo,” you whisper breathlessly.

Your hips swivel in desperation to send his dick as deep as it can go, honestly hoping your guts do part for him so his cock can nestle permanently inside you. 

“You gonna come again?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good,” he speaks into your ear. “Come on my big, fat cock, babygirl.”

The moan you let out is the most humiliating sound to ever come from your body. 

Luckily, no more are able to escape because Jungkook kisses you senseless. His tongue shoves into your mouth and licks around your own as you bounce on him as fast as your thighs will allow. He perpetuates your efforts by grasping your hips and rolling his own against you. It creates the perfect amount of friction on your clit and sends you tumbling into a pool of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

You weep over the intensity of your orgasm while he continues kissing you. Not wanting to lose an ounce of momentum, Jungkook takes over for you as your orgasm paralyzes your mind. 

He fucks you relentlessly to bring about his own climax and the sound of your skin clapping together is so loud you worry it will shake your doorframe and alert the neighbors. 

“Gonna fill you up, Bams,” he warns you. 

He thrusts hard once, twice, sending his cock so deep you swear you see your stomach bulge, and then he grunts and a strangled cry breaks from his lips as he paints your pussy with his cum.

The heat of it makes your eyes roll into your skull.

You kiss him through the come down, slowly traversing across the bottom half of his face and scraping his jaw with your teeth. He moans weakly, the hand still in your hair moving down to your neck and squeezing it affectionately. You make out as he goes flaccid within you, the mixture of your juices slowly dripping out and soaking your thighs. 

Jungkook grabs your ass in both hands and massages the fatty flesh like he owns it, giving you one final spank to tint your skin red in the shape of his hand.

“Jungkook,” you mumble against his lips. “That was s’fucking good.”

A prideful chuckle meets your ears as Jungkook rests his head against the pillows to gaze up at you. 

“Yeah? Told you we’d have fun,” he brags. 

Lifting yourself off of him, you curse at the sticky mess between your legs. In one motion, you swing your leg over Jungkook’s thighs and fall down next to him with a bounce. You’ll worry about the sheets being drenched in the morning. 

Jungkook grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles before holding it against his heart thumping wildly in his chest. 

“Thanks for trying something new with me, Bams,” he says sincerely. 

Your eyes meet with twin smiles. Running your fingers through his hair, you tuck a piece behind his ear and lean in to give him a final peck of gratitude. 

It takes a minute for your body to stop screaming at you so you can stand. When you head for the bathroom, Usagi meows angrily from her spot just beyond the door. You coo at her and bend down to scratch under her chin.

“I’m sowwy, baby,” you apologize to the little creature. 

She saunters right past you to hop on the bed and curl up next to Jungkook who’s covering his bare body with your comforter. His eyes light up when he sees her approaching and he bends down to kiss her little head repeatedly until she meows at him to stop. 

You return from the bathroom in a large sleep shirt fresh from the dryer and toss a pair of equally fresh sweats to Jungkook. Both items are originally his, anyway. 

He eyes you knowingly when he clocks the familiar article of clothing. His tongue clicks with a single shake of his head before he’s slipping the pants on and securing them around his hips.

“You want me to sleep on the couch like usual?” He asks with his arms behind his head. 

You scoff affectionately.

“You already look pretty comfortable right there, Koo,” you retort.

“Oh, I am.” He pets Usagi dramatically as she purrs. “And Usagi wants me here, you can’t so no to her!” 

“You’re right, I can’t.”

Jungkook lifts the covers so you can join him in the snuggle puddle he and your cat are partaking in. You make yourself comfortable beneath the sheets and he mirrors you, much to Usagi’s chagrin since she’s sequestered to the foot of the bed to accommodate the extra body. 

It takes you all of thirty seconds to fall asleep once your head hits the pillow, and Jungkook is already halfway into dreamland himself when you do. 

You wake with a pounding headache and unbelievably sore thighs. Groaning at the aches and pains, you leave your bed and attempt to walk normally even though you feel like you got fucked by a semitruck instead of your best friend. It’s a mess of stumbling feet and running into furniture corners as you groggily head to the kitchen for some pain pills. 

Grabbing some for Jungkook after swallowing your own, you head back and set them along with a water bottle on your nightstand for when he wakes up. 

The smell of breakfast must coax Jungkook back into the land of the living because he stumbles out from your bedroom soon after it’s ready. You laugh at the way his hair sticks up in a million directions and his eyes barely open. 

“Morning, sunshine,” you sing-song.

He only greets you with a wave as he heads towards your bathroom. 

When he emerges again he looks slightly more put together, at least, you can see his big, brown eyes again as he makes his way to you.

“Morning,” he says. 

“Brekkie?”

You push a plate of assorted breakfast food towards him before turning around to place your own in the sink. He eats with that lovable scowl on his face which indicates you successfully cooked him a worthwhile meal. 

Neither of you bring up the events which took place last night because you don’t need to, there’s no unspoken tension or uncomfortable vibes floating around. Jungkook was right when he said nothing can come between you, and as fun as it was, now everything just goes back to normal.

It does not stay normal for long.

ONE

Women are beautiful, complex, intricate beings, whose bodies and minds can do extraordinary things. Women can move mountains when they strive to and you’re proud to call yourself one. 

Simultaneously, they can be dumbasses who can’t remember when their last period was. 

While sitting at your desk typing up a bullshit report for some bullshit exec who can’t be bothered to read his own emails, you open the drawer on your left. It houses all your office essentials like pens, tape, paper clips, and tampons. 

Your head tilts as you examine the colorful packaging you haven’t seen in a while. There seems to be a lot of them, especially since you usually run out and have to restock halfway through hell week.

Glancing up at your calendar, you count the weeks backwards and then flip it one month prior to check the exact date. 

You laugh aloud to yourself, because, surely, you just forgot to mark the calendar like you always do and you don’t remember restocking the tampons after your period ended. That must be the case because there’s no way in hell you’re two weeks late. It’s simply an impossibility and abundantly more plausible that your memory is failing you rather than your body. 

The skin of your lower lip is bitten raw as your eyes flit between the calendar and the menstrual products which are both staring into your soul. If they could speak, you think they’d be saying “we know what you did.” 

Pushing away from your desk, you take a deep breath and decide the best course of action is to walk around the office. 

Maybe seeing the inside of a bathroom stall will jog your memory of the last time you were bleeding, or passing by the kitchen will force you to recall when you last grabbed some extra candies from the community bowl. 

It’s all for nought. Your excursion around the building is an utter failure, and suddenly the walls of the office feel as though they’re closing in on you. 

Deciding to head home after lunch because you can’t focus anyway, you stop at the corner store by your house and grip your purse strap to stop your hands from shaking as you enter the women’s health aisle. The hundreds of pregnancy tests glare at you from their place on the shelf and you have to sink your teeth into your battered lower lip again to stop anxious tears from forming. 

This must be some horrible nightmare, you tell yourself. You’re gonna wake up and realize you fell asleep at your desk because your job is just that boring. The sharp pinch you apply to your arm forces you to stop lying to yourself.

Groaning in frustration, you analyze both the brands and prices of the demonic little fortune tellers and choose two each from multiple different brands because you need to be real fucking sure. 

You’re two years shy of thirty and you still feel like you’re having a teen pregnancy scare. 

The woman behind the counter is smiling as she places the tests into a bag. It’s probably because she believes you’ll be ecstatic about a positive result and run straight home to tell your husband. Most women your age would be doing so, but you don’t have a husband, you have a childhood best friend who you decided to hook up with for funsies. 

The abundant traffic you hit on the way home only makes your swirling whirlpool of nerves worse, and by the time you’re unlocking your apartment door and rushing to the bathroom, your lip is bleeding from how much skin you’ve ripped. 

You bought six tests, like a crazy person, and so it takes a couple minutes for you to successfully pee on all of them and place them on the counter with their caps on. Setting your phone timer for three minutes, you sit on the toilet seat to wait the eternity of 180 seconds. 

The anticipation eats away at your insides like sulfuric acid, and your leg bounces forcefully as though you’re going through withdrawal. 

Your mind is somersaulting over itself and flopping on the ground like a fish out of water as you wonder how this is even possible. You’re on birth control, and you checked your pills before leaving work; you didn’t miss a single one. 

There’s always the horror stories about the unlucky .01% of women whose contraceptives fail due to stress or poor health, but you don’t think that applies to you. Sure, you don’t join Jungkook at the gym, and work makes you wanna pull your hair out, but you feel great most days. 

The timer derails your train of thought with an incessant buzz. Glancing at the counter, you reach for one of the tests with shaking hands as you pray for the right result. 

Once you find the courage to actually look, your heart stops, and when you stand to see your plethora of pregnancy tests side by side, your eyes bulge from your skull. 

Staring back at you like the fates themselves are three matching sets of a plus sign, two parallel lines, and the word “pregnant.”

Hands slapping against your mouth, you gasp into your palms as reality forces its way into the bathroom with you. Your eyes squeeze shut as tears break from the confines of your waterline. You shake your head a couple times, trying to get your mind files back into their rightful places. It doesn’t work, and all the papers which make up your consciousness go flying all over the place. 

The cacophony of emotions on top of your disembodied mind forces your senses to scramble and discombobulate. 

You’re scared, worried, sad, confused, and shocked, but somewhere inside you’re happy, too. Being a mom is a huge dream of yours and even if it’s unexpected, it’s still a dream come true. 

Unfortunately, happiness is the lowest emotion on the totem pole, and your negative emotions are much closer to the surface. 

Running your hands down your face, you gaze at the tests as a sob shakes through you. You brace your hands on the counter and allow yourself to cry through all of the emotions. The heavy tears drop into the sink below you one by one as you decide what to do next.

First things first, you have to tell the baby’s father.

“Fuck, he’s gonna fucking kill me.” Tipping your head back to send the loose tears back from whence they came, you blow air from your mouth and close your eyes. “He’s gonna hate me. He’s gonna lose his shit and never wanna see me again and I’m gonna —” A sob slices through your windpipe and causes your voice to break. “I’m gonna lose him.”

You hug your knees and let yourself freefall until your butt meets the tile. The floor is cold and your muscles ache from the force of your crash into the ground, but it serves as a momentary distraction from your mental anguish. The sound of your sorrow fills the space as you take heaving breaths and soak your jeans with tears. Usagi scratches at the door and the sound of her little paws calling for you breaks your heart.

Stretching towards the door, you reach and turn the doorknob just enough for it to open. 

You watch fondly as your cat’s little legs carry her to your side. When she reaches you, she jumps into your lap and curls into an adorable ball of love. Fresh tears fall over the sweet affection she’s giving you, and you bend down to kiss her and rub your face in her fur.

“You’re gonna be a big sister, Usagi,” you tell her. 

Eventually, you calm down enough to stand and find your phone. You don’t think you can handle Jungkook’s voice right now, so you text him to come over whenever he’s free. He replies within a few minutes saying he’s got one more meeting and then he’ll be there. You mindlessly stare at his text message as anxiety simmers in your gut. This might just be the one thing that finally comes between you two. 

When Jungkook arrives you’re pacing in a trance around the living room. He unlocks the door with his key and kicks it open since his hands are full with takeout containers. Your eyes threaten to water when you realize he’s bringing you dinner without you asking. 

Your best friend is thoughtful, deliberate, and so, so kind, and here you are about to shatter his world as he knows it.

At the very second his two feet step into your apartment, you scurry across the floor and throw your arms around his neck. He takes an involuntary step back and drops the bags when you barrel into him, a deep chuckle coming from his chest that you feel against your own. 

“Bams?” 

You manhandle the emotions trying to escape back into their cages. You want, no, need, at least one more moment with him as you are now, before everything changes forever.

His arms wrap around you on instinct, one of his hands resting on the back of your head to cradle you closer. 

“Sorry,” you say as you reluctantly let go. “Rough day.”

“Well, I brought kimchi fried rice, so it can’t be that rough,” he jokes. 

You fake a smile and nod in agreement before grabbing one of the containers to bring it to the kitchen. Once he places the second one down, you tap your nails against the countertop and contemplate whether or not to wait. Jungkook, clearly oblivious to your turmoil, is already moving towards the fridge to grab a drink before sitting on the couch. It’s now or never, you suppose.

Each step you take to stand across from him feels like trudging through concrete and the overwhelming anxiety is gnawing at you like a wild animal. The notion that this could be the last time you see him smiling at you or have the ability to hear him laugh is debilitating.

You click your heels once you’re opposite him on the other side of the coffee table. He raises an eyebrow at you in a silent question, but you ignore his confusion and fill your lungs with the charged air.

“I’m pregnant.”

You didn't know silence could be so deafening. 

Jungkook’s cola bottle falls from his hands onto the floor with a plastic boing sound. The noise feels inappropriate for the tension of the room. His pupils are shaking as his eyes grow in size exponentially and the skin between his eyebrows creases as his lips part. Even from here you can see his mouth’s run completely dry. 

You take another deep breath, but you aren’t able to stop your emotions from leaking out anymore. 

“And I’m really, really scared,” you say as your voice breaks. 

Jungkook immediately snaps out of his daze when he hears your tone of voice, all of his previously tense features softening as he stands to reach you. 

The next thing you know, his warm hands are caressing your cheeks as he brushes the tears away.

“Hey, hey, Bambi,” he whispers. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” You cry harder at the gentle nature of his voice, like he’s worried he’ll break you if he talks too loud. “I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got me, alright? We’ve got each other. That's all that matters.”

“You aren’t mad?” 

“Mad?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. “You thought I would be mad at you, Bams?” You nod as best you can with your face caught between his hands. Jungkook frowns deeply. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because… because my birth control fucking failed and now we’re… we’re gonna be parents and —”

“That’s not your fault,” Jungkook interrupts. “I’m the one who creampied you, Bambi.”

“Yeah, but I told you to.”

“Oh, I assure you, I would’ve asked if you hadn’t.”

Despite your current emotional state, you laugh at his explanation. Your tears slowly, but surely, subside after a few more minutes. Gripping his wrists, you remove his hands from your face and hold them instead. 

“I’m still sorry,” you say quietly. 

“Don’t apologize,” he responds, then tilts your chin up. “You’re gonna make me a dad, Bams. That’s nothing to apologize for.”

The sigh of relief you exhale is exuberant. A smile creeps onto your face and Jungkook mirrors the expression before a mischievous grin appears instead. 

He encompasses your waist and lifts you into the air in one swoop, you screech at the sudden movement and koala him to keep yourself from falling. He giggles incessantly as he spins you both around in circles in the middle of your living room. 

“Koo! Put me down!”  

He obeys after a moment, but not before bending his knees to dip you down towards the floor. You squeal until a fit of laughter overtakes you as he slowly brings you both back up to his full height. 

“I’m so happy, Bams, you have no idea,” he tells you wholeheartedly. 

Once the laughter subsides, you inhale fondly and caress his jaw with one of your hands.

“Me, too,” you admit. 

A full blown bunny smile greets you and Jungkook nuzzles his nose against yours, making you giggle and blush a rosy pink hue. When your feet are on the earth again, you head for the kitchen, but Jungkook stops you with a hand to your forearm.

“Can I…” Jungkook begins to ask, his eyes glancing towards your stomach. 

“Can you what, Koo?” 

“Can I, ya know, touch?” 

Looking down at your stomach, which is still identical to its normal size, you raise an eyebrow at him, but find yourself nodding yes anyway.

He giggles delightfully and places his palm over your abdomen, where soon enough you’ll have a baby bump. 

“Man, this is fucking awesome.” You find yourself chuckling at his excitement over literally nothing at all yet. “Can I come to your doctor’s appointments?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to go to them without you,” you answer. “I still have to make the first one. I only took the tests a couple hours ago.” 

“Were you alone?” He’s frowning as he asks, regret evident in his tone. 

“Usagi was there.”

Jungkook scoffs, chuckling knowingly as he shakes his head and follows you into the kitchen. 

You eat together as though you didn’t just deliver life alternating news. Which honestly, is the only outcome that ever would’ve come to fruition. Perhaps the staggering emotions of finding out you’re pregnant made you forget just how much you two love and care for each other. Your friendship is backed by nearly three decades of time spent together, and even something as massive as a baby can’t shake that foundation. 

What might shake the foundation of a house is the screams of joy your mothers are going to let out when you tell them. They’ve been begging you for a shared grandchild since you graduated college. 

Jungkook is supportively holding your hand as you two stand on the front porch of your house, which is conveniently down the street from his house, because that’s just how close your parents are. You can’t blame them, you’re sure you and Jungkook will be the same one day, especially now. 

The memories of your childhood are flooding through your mind while you stand in the familiar location. It gets you thinking about all the new memories you’ll make with your own child one day. 

Releasing the tension from your neck, you nod at Jungkook to let him know you’re ready. He returns the gesture and lets go of your hand to knock on the door. Unsurprisingly, it’s his mother’s face who comes into view from the other side of the screen door.

“Oh, Kookie! What are you two doing here?” She asks cheerfully.

“What are you doing here, Mom?” Jungkook asks as he hugs her. 

“Oh, you know I practically live here.”

You laugh, knowing how right she is, and give her a big, bear hug. Her comforting presence always eases your anxieties, especially now when you’re worried about their reaction to your news. 

She guides you through the house as though it’s her own and leads you into the kitchen where your mom is cooking dinner. You greet her with a hug and kiss on the cheek as she stirs the pot on the stove. Jungkook follows suit, resting his head on her shoulder as he hugs her side. 

Your mom tells you she’s nearly done and to go sit. She joins you a few minutes later after turning the stove off and removing the food from the heat.

“Seriously, kids, what did you come all this way for?” Jungkook’s mom asks once you’re all sitting around the kitchen table. 

“It’s not that far,” you say. 

“No, but you two never show up unannounced like this,” your mom states. 

“We have something to tell you,” Jungkook says. 

His hand finds yours under the table and gives it a comforting squeeze, out of the eyesight of your mothers. Your petrified eyes flicker towards him, but he just nods and smiles reassuringly at you. You lick your lips and sit up as a way of giving yourself a moment of reprieve before you change the entire atmosphere of the home. 

“I’m pregnant,” you announce. “We’re having a baby.”

“WE?” They scream in unison. 

You instantly lose all their attention. They’re too busy screaming like school girls while clasping their hands together and shaking them in excitement. You and Jungkook share a sideways glance and have to suppress a laugh. 

“When did this happen? How long have you been dating?” Your mom asks.

Both your faces pale at her question, not thinking far enough ahead to prepare for these types of inquiries.

“Um, we’re not,” you tell her. 

“What do you mean, you’re not? How did you get pregnant then?”

Jungkook awkwardly clears his throat and messes with the collar of his shirt as tension fills the room. Never in a million years did you think you’d be talking about your and Jungkook’s sexscapades with your moms. 

“We just hooked up, a one time thing,” you answer. 

“So, you’re not together?” His mom wonders. You both shake your heads, hating the look of disappointment that crosses their features. “Are you gonna try?”

“Maybe… maybe one day, Mom,” Jungkook answers. “But right now we just wanna focus on being the best parents we can be.” 

They reluctantly accept his answer before moving onto all the nitty gritty details like asking when your next appointment is, if you’re going to find out the gender, etc. 

The four of you eat dinner together but unfortunately, your dads are away on a fishing trip together, so you don’t get to tell them the news tonight. Your moms promise to relay their reactions to you through the phone upon their return. 

With your parents out of the way, your friends are up next to bat, but you don’t expect that announcement to go as well as this one. 

Your first gynecologist appointment is the following week, and you and Jungkook both take the day off from work so you can go together. It’s pretty nerve wracking, but you’re mostly excited to see the first ultrasound pictures of your little peanut. 

Jungkook drives you to the appointment in his black Mercedes Benz and it lowkey makes you feel like his knocked up sugar baby. He didn’t grow up with money, so he’s still humble, but he definitely enjoys splurging on his choice of car, if anything. It’s certainly not a bad thing to be having a kid with someone who’s financially well off, but you hate taking advantage of Jungkook’s wealth even when he offers. 

He reverses the car into a parking spot, his arm moving to the headrest behind you as he looks over his shoulder to fit in the space. Upon exiting the car, you come around the hood where Jungkook is waiting for you with his hand out. You take it without a second thought and lace his fingers with yours as you walk into the dauntingly large medical building together. 

Your foot rapidly taps against the elevator as it inches up to the third floor. When the doors open after what feels like an eternity, the office can only be described as a haven for expecting mothers.

Everywhere in sight there are women with swollen bellies of varying degrees, most of them accompanied by their doting partners. As you scan the room, you notice one thing in common with almost all of them; they all have big, shiny rings on their fingers. 

You pout instinctually, green envy coating your insides. It’s not as though you’ve been hunting for a husband, it’s honestly been the last thing on your mind, but you’d be lying if you said you aren’t jealous they have spouses and you have a baby daddy. You love Jungkook, more than anything in the world, and there isn’t anyone else you can imagine having a kid with, but it’s not the same as these men and women looking at their pregnant partners like they hung the stars in the sky. 

Jungkook notices your unintentional scowl and tugs on your hand to grab your attention. He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shake your head and proceed towards the reception desk. 

“Hi, an appointment under Jeon,” you tell the woman behind the desk. You hear Jungkook make a noise of curiosity from beside you. “Figured we should do everything under the baby’s last name, it’s simpler that way.”

“The baby’s gonna have my last name?” 

His eyes sparkle with wonder and your heart soars.

“Yeah, you’re the dad, Koo.”

“I know, but I thought since we aren’t together —”

“No,” you cut him off. “It’s baby Jeon, a hundred percent.” 

He smiles so big his eyes disappear and his bunny teeth make an appearance. You roll your eyes affectionately before turning your attention back to the receptionist as she hands you a clipboard with some paperwork to complete.  

Both of you have to call your respective mothers at one point while filling out the extensive medical history forms. Once the twenty or so pages are complete, Jungkook returns it to the receptionist before joining you again in the waiting room. You sit with identical bouncing knees as the minutes tick by in heavy anticipation.

When your name is finally called, the two of you leap up and hurry over to the nurse who’ll lead you to the observation room.

They take some vitals, draw your blood for the formal pregnancy test, and go over the paperwork, getting the more mundane, administrative details out the way before handing you a gown and instructing you to lay down for the ultrasound. 

Jungkook excitedly rubs his palms together and stomps his feet when the nurse leaves and you get ready to see your baby for the first time. 

Ever the gentleman, he looks everywhere but at you as you strip to put the gown on, which is so adorable you almost combust. He put a baby in you and yet he’s respectful enough to look away when you undress in front of him, what a fucking doll. 

Your feet tap an unknown melody against the stirrups as you wait and Jungkook scrolls on his phone absentmindedly. The doctor alerts you with a short knock before opening the door and popping her head in.

“Hi, you guys,” she greets you. She shakes Jungkook’s hand and then yours before rolling a stool over to sit between your legs. “How are you both doing?”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Good, good,” she smiles. “So, great news, you are indeed pregnant! Based on your hormone levels it looks like you’re about eight weeks along.”

Even though you know the exact date and time your baby was conceived, the sensual moment permanently etched into your memory, and it’s impossible to be anything else besides divine intervention, you still sigh in relief over everything lining up as it should. 

“Before we get to the ultrasound, I just want to go over a couple things that I always do with new parents, alright?” 

“Sure,” you agree with a smile. 

“Okay, we won’t be discussing labor and delivery until you’re a little farther along because there’s a lot to take in at first and it can be pretty overwhelming,” she explains. “I just want to make sure you both are in a good place, have everything you need from me, and availability to any resources you may need during this time.” She looks at you expectantly and you nod your head to convey you understand. “Alright, so tell me a little bit about yourselves.”

You gesture towards Jungkook and he points to his chest with his hand. When you nod, he clears his throat and sits up straighter.

“Hi, Jungkook, she calls me Koo,” he starts. “I’m a head video game designer and have a house just outside the city. I have a Doberman named Bam. I box in my free time… not sure what else you need to know.”

“No, that’s great,” she reassures him. She turns her attention to you.

“I’m Y/N, but he calls me Bambi, and don’t ask, we can’t remember why,” you laugh. “I’m an administrative assistant and rent an apartment in the city and have a munchkin cat named Usagi. In my free time I read, mostly.”

“So, you two don’t live together?” You both shake your heads. “Are you exes, just haven’t moved in together yet, something else?” 

“Best friends,” you tell her. Then, because it’s confusing for most people that you’re pregnant with your best friend’s baby, you continue. “We decided to have some fun one night and now we’re gonna be having fun together for the next 18 years.”

She laughs lightheartedly at your story.

“Alright, I like the sound of that. You’re supposed to be going through this with your best friend, anyway,” she says. “How long have you known one another?”

“I was strapped in a baby carrier to my mom’s chest in the hospital room while she was being born,” Jungkook states.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah,” you add.

“Well, that’s great, you two! You’ve got a long history together and that can only make for wonderful teamwork.”

There are some more details you discuss regarding the first trimester and the vitamins you’ll be taking. You go over the common symptoms for this time frame and how best to remedy them. Once that’s settled, she finally pulls out the ultrasound machine and you get jittery just from the sight. You’re so eager to see your baby and when Jungkook joins you by your side, he radiates the same energy. He’s sitting to your left now and you bend your arm up to hold his hand. Jungkook smiles at your actions and clasps his hand around yours with a tight squeeze. 

Jumping when you feel the cool gel on your skin, you ignore the novel sensation and wait impatiently for the image of your baby to appear on the monitor. 

Before you see anything, a steady, rhythmic thumping plays throughout the room. 

You and Jungkook gasp in unison.

“And that’s a heartbeat,” the doctor says with a big smile. 

Jungkook rests his head on yours and your free hand wraps around to tousle his hair affectionately. 

The visual on the screen doesn’t make much sense at first, but then the doctor pauses her movements along your abdomen and clicks the keyboard to take some still shots. 

“So, this is your baby,” she says while pointing to the small peanut shape amongst all the black and white fuzziness. “They’re about the size of a kidney bean right now.”

“A kidney bean!” Jungkook cheers. “How flippin’ cute.”

You giggle while glancing back at him. His starry eyes are shining and glossy while he admires the monitor showing him his future child.

“Are you two going to find out the gender? That will happen at your twelve-week follow up.”

“No, we’re gonna keep it a surprise,” you answer. 

“Great choice, it’s always so fun that way.”

She points out a couple more things on the ultrasound before turning the machine off and printing the pictures she took, making sure to print two copies so you and Jungkook can each have one. 

When you peek at him once the doctor leaves so you can get dressed, he’s staring at the photos while his thumb gently traces over the shiny paper right where your baby is. You feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes, but keep them under control with a sniffle and scrunch of your nose.

TWO

You have two main friend groups, one which is mutual with Jungkook, consisting of six other guys and three girls besides yourself, and another group of all girls, four of them in addition to you. Sometimes you mix the groups, and they all get along just fine, some better than others, wink wink, but usually you see them on separate occasions. 

Tonight is monthly wine night with your girls, which, of course, you won’t be partaking in, although you plan on faking it. 

You’re unsure about telling your friends just yet. It’s been nice having this sweet little secret just between you and Jungkook, thoroughly enjoying the whispers of excitement you share as you admire your miniature baby bump together. Of course, that enthusiasm is shared between you and your mothers who message you daily for updates. 

The bump forming over your womb isn’t noticeable in the slightest unless you’re wearing something abhorrently tight, and even then, you look bloated at best. So, you can easily get away with hiding your little bundle of joy for a few more weeks. 

It’s a fact the girls will be absolutely ecstatic for you and completely supportive, so it’s not fear holding you back. Maybe judgment? The circumstances of your pregnancy are far from ordinary and you don’t want a lecture from anyone regarding your questionable choices. Your friends adore Jungkook, since they’ve known him as long as they’ve known you, and they’re fully aware of how wonderful he is, but being a friend and being a father are two very different things and it wouldn’t be totally unreasonable for them to have doubts.

Grabbing some wine to pass from the corner store, you drive to Nayeon’s place just up the road. The five of you rotate hosts monthly and tonight is her night. You won’t have the pleasure of hosting again for another four months since your turn was last month. You’re bringing wine along to keep suspicions to a minimum, and you plan on filling your glass with some sparkling grape juice you also snagged. 

When you arrive, Jihyo and Mina are standing by their cars cackling at something on their phones. As you exit and lock your car with a click, you wave and approach the laughing banshees with a smile.

Their faces shine bright when they see you and enthusiastically return the wave.

“Bitch, it’s only been a month and I missed you so fucking much,” Mina cries as she pulls you in for a crippling hug. 

“Are you drunk already?” You question due to her out of character language and how she’s slumping against you.

“Nooo.”

“Don’t worry, I drove her here,” Jihyo, ever the mom friend, assures you. 

You enter Nayeon’s apartment as a trio, her door already unlocked for the occasion, as you update each other on surface level things like work and hobbies. 

Nayeon and Tzuyu are in the kitchen with a glass of wine already in hand while they gossip about something. You know they’re gossiping because their expressions are dramatically shuffling through different emotions like shock, confusion, and disgust. 

They wave excitedly when they notice your entrance and quickly finish their conversation before joining you. 

Jihyo places Mina delicately on the couch and instructs her to stay still so she can grab her a glass of water. You follow Jihyo into the kitchen, peering over your shoulder at your other friend who’s now lackadaisically swaying side to side.

“Ji, why is Mina drunk off her ass right now?” 

Jihyo sighs as she grabs a cup and glances towards the living room to visually check on the topic of your conversation. 

“Her and Mingyu broke up.”

“No!” You gasp, your hands covering your mouth in disbelief. “Did he dump her?”

“She won’t tell me! She just sits on my bed and cries for hours.”

Jihyo and Mina are roommates, but Mina has been hoping to move in with Mingyu for a while now and was merely waiting for him to ask.

“Oh no, my poor girl.”

“I’m hoping tonight will help and maybe she’ll finally open up about what happened,” Jihyo says. “You wanna try my wine?”

“Oh, no, I’ve got my own,” you tell her and show off the bottle of fake alcohol you peeled the label off of. 

She recognizes your answer with a nod before heading back to Mina. By the time you return with her water she’s relaying the information to Nayeon and Tzuyu through tears and slurred sentences. 

You hug Tzuyu from behind and she warmly wraps her arms around your own to reciprocate the affection. After repeating the embrace with Nayeon, you take a seat on her armchair and pour the grape juice into the wine glass she left out for you. 

The five of you update each other like always, since that’s the main purpose of these get-togethers. It’s your sacred time to dive into the messy and dirty details of your lives over the last month.

Mina is unanimously nominated to go first once she’s consumed a couple glasses of water to sober her up a bit. She explains how her and Mingyu, her boyfriend of nearly four years, broke up because he isn’t ready to settle down. Apparently it was mutual, but she’s still head over heels for him and is having a terrible time trying to move on.

The four of you hold her while she cries until eventually, she tires herself out, and you move on to Tzuyu.

The conversation circles through everyone until you’re finally the center of attention. There’s a piece of you that still wants to stow away your secret for a little while longer, but you’re also so excited for them to share in your joy that you can barely stand holding it in.

“Okay, so, technically this happened two wine nights ago, but I wasn’t ready to tell you guys just yet,” you begin. You suck in a breath through your teeth and take a sip of your drink even though there’s no liquid courage in the glass. “Jungkook and I hooked up.”

The gasps from your friends are so loud you think they sucked all the air from the room. 

“No fucking way.”

“I freaking knew it would happen one day!”

“Oh my God?”

“Please tell me he’s got a big dick, I just know he has a big dick.”

You laugh into your glass at the multitude of different reactions before continuing. Sighing in content remembrance, you lean forward and rest your elbows on your knees.

“He’s. Fucking. Huge.”

Somehow, their gasps this time are even louder. 

“No, no, you need to spill right fucking now. I want every dirty fucking detail, baby,” Nayeon says.

“There honestly isn’t that much to tell. We were watching a movie, he brought it up, it happened, bada-bing bada-boom,” you state.

“Are you two together now?” Jihyo asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “We just wanted to see what it was like, you know?”

“Bitch,” Tzuyu scoffs. “You just told us your ungodly handsome, sweet, filthy rich, jacked as fuck best friend has a huge dick and you’re gonna look at me and say it was a one time thing?”

“You guys know it’s not like that with us,” you respond. “I love him, like, with everything in me, and obviously, I know how attractive he is, but I don’t get butterflies around him or think about him first thing in the morning.” You sit back in the chair. “The love I have for him is so much greater than romantic love. I mean, never say never, but we’re both completely content with the way we are.” 

“Hear hear,” Jihyo says with a clink of her nails against her glass. 

Nibbling on your lip, you count the bubbles floating in your drink as you decide whether or not you’re ready for the actual reveal.

“There is… more, though,” you quietly admit. Everyone leans in and you shake your head back and forth to prepare for the biggest confession you’ll ever make to them. “I’m pregnant.”

The gasps this time are so volatile two of them start coughing and Jihyo walks her ass straight out of the room with a hand over her mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up right now,” Nayeon snaps. 

“He knocked you up?” Mina’s drunk ass shouts. 

“Mmhmm.”

“Are you… happy about that?” Tzuyu tentatively asks. 

The massive grin forming on your face reveals your answer before you can give it, and you start nodding overdramatically while you giggle. 

“Oh my God! You’re pregnant!” Tzuyu cheers now that she’s aware of your excitement.

“You’re gonna be a mom!” Nayeon claps.

“We’re gonna be aunts!” Mina adds. 

Jihyo returns to the room with fresh tears on her cheeks.

“Ji,” you coo at her. 

She hiccups out a weak chuckle as she pulls you into her for a bear hug. The other girls follow suit and surround you until the five of you are basically cuddling in the middle of Nayeon’s living room. Suddenly, someone starts jumping and the force shakes the floorboards as you all join in and chant “yay yay yay” on repeat. 

The whimsicality of girlhood never fails to paint a smile on your face.

The following weekend you have plans with your other friend group. You usually rotate through a few different activities you all enjoy and tonight is karaoke, which is one of your personal favorites. 

Jungkook gets ready at your place so you can eat dinner together beforehand since the food at the karaoke bar is stupidly overpriced. He never fails to remind you he can afford it and is more than willing to pay for your meal, but you don’t like using his money unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’re a big girl who can pay for herself and he understands your desire for independence.

You’re at the vanity finishing your makeup when he enters with another bowl of rice he grabbed after finishing your meal. He takes up purchase on your bed and eats absentmindedly while his eyes follow the movement of your wrist coating your lashes in mascara.

The feeling of his stare creates goosebumps on your skin and an involuntary smile appears in the mirror. No doubt your foundation hides the blush springing forth as well.

“You look pretty, Bams,” he compliments. 

“Thank you!”

The now empty bowl meets your nightstand with a clank as he moves to stand beside you. He leans down until you’re side by side in the mirror and gives you his cheesiest smile. You snort at his antics and continue to giggle while dropping your mascara into the pile of other makeup tools. 

“Cute,” you tell him. 

He smiles successfully and extends his hands towards you. You graciously accept his offer and stand to your full height. Just as you’re heading for your closet to grab shoes, Jungkook ensnares your wrist and eyes you hopefully. Raising an eyebrow at his actions, you wait for him to speak his mind.

“Can I see it?” 

The eye roll is automatic at this point.

“Koo, my baby bump is not any bigger than it was a few days ago. It’s barely a bump as is! I could eat pasta and grow bigger than I am now,” you tell him.

“It doesn’t matter, I just like knowing they’re in there,” he says with a huge smile. “My little kidney bean.”

“They’re a plum now, remember?” 

Jungkook just stares you down expectantly rather than responding. Begrudgingly, but still with a smile on your face, you push your jacket away so he can see the barely noticeable hump over your abdomen. He giggles, his feet taking turns leaving the floor, and places both hands on you, caressing your womb ever so gently. 

“My little plum,” he sighs happily. 

You're so utterly endeared by him and his nature that it makes you sick. 

Once Jungkook is done holding the little plum, you leave to meet your friends at the karaoke bar. 

Throughout the drive you discuss whether or not to announce the pregnancy to your friends. Jungkook knows you told the girls, and was unnecessarily smug about their interest in his size, but your mutual friends are another animal entirely. 

Everyone met at one point or another during college and by graduation you’d become one massive, conjoined group of lovable idiots. All eleven of you are extremely close, even if the bonds you share are unique to each individual pair. You know things about one another no one else does and they’re always the first people you tell about good news.

Jungkook is more anxious than you about telling them, especially since he’s yet to let the cat out of the bag to anyone besides your parents. He’s the youngest among the boys and his biggest fear is disappointing them. Not that they would be, because even though they're a group of seven men, they’re the kindest people in the world, but Jungkook’s always been sensitive about their opinion of him because he idolizes them so much.

By the time you reach the bar you’ve mutually agreed to hold off for now and proceed to exit the car together. Jungkook instinctively places his hand on your lower back as you walk in and a hostess tells you which room your friends occupy.

Upon opening the door to the private karaoke suite, you’re met by the booming sound of cheers from all nine people packed inside. Everyone rises from their seats to hug you one by one before letting you settle into the couch across from the karaoke machine and mini stage. 

“What are you drinking tonight?” Yunjin asks you as she takes the seat to your right.

Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi are already flipping through the songbook next to the stage for the perfect opening song. 

“Can’t, I’m Koo’s designated driver for tonight,” you tell her.

“We’re gonna be here for hours like always, you should have one, at least,” she says.

“Maybe,” you say with an appreciative smile. 

Lying to the people you love most isn’t exactly easy, especially when you already suck at it, but Yunjin seems to take you at your word and returns her focus to the opposite side of the room.

The opening beats of an R&B song fill the air and you turn your attention to the three jackals on stage as they belt their hearts out together. You admire them with a massive grin and are thoroughly impressed by how they manage to make complete fools of themselves while still hitting all the notes. 

The other girls join you sometime during the bridge, Chaewon taking the empty seat by you while Eunchae goes next to Yunjin. Eunchae tells everyone she got a promotion at work, so you clink your glasses together to cheer for her, yours being filled with cola instead of alcohol.

“Here, try my drink, it’s so good!” Chaewon says as she passes the glass to you. You shake your head and tell her the same lie you told Yunjin. Unfortunately, Chaewon is less forgiving than your other friend. “It’s just a sip, girliepop!”

You shoot her a warning glance, and luckily, the two other women are distracted by Namjoon and Jin’s soulful duet on stage. Due to your decade long friendship, you and Chaewon share the unique ability to speak without any words, and your silent conversation goes something like this.

You, glaring at her with your head tilted. Don’t.

Her, sitting back a little with her eyebrows raised. Bitch?

You, nodding minutely a couple times. Yup.

Her, eyes wide with a hand on her chest. You’re pregnant?

You, nodding while staring her down. Can you fucking believe it?

Her, brow creasing and slowly shaking her head. Who the fuck is the dad?

You, holding up a hand to block the view from the others while pointing at Jungkook who’s sitting across the room. Jungkook.

Her, hand over her mouth, eyes bulging out of her head. You’re fucking joking! 

So, that’s how Chaewon finds out, and your final signal to her is your pointer finger pressing against your lips so she knows this is still a massive secret.

Jungkook and Taehyung take the stage next, and they’re always an entertaining pair, so you both pay close attention. It’s debatable whether that was a good decision, because the rest of you end up with aching cramps from the intense fits of laughter. You're all desperately clutching your stomachs as the two of them jump around and sing in each other’s faces to a song that does not call for that type of choreography. You’re 99% sure it’s a breakup song from a K-Drama. 

You’re still wiping the tears from your eyes when Eunchae speaks up breathlessly.

“God, I don’t know why, but this reminds me of when the boys performed in the university talent show,” she states.

“Oh shit, I totally forgot about that,” Yunjin responds.

“Wait, what are you guys talking about?” Jimin says as he sits next to Yunjin.

“Don’t you remember? You guys wore those hockey jerseys and covered that 90s song,” you tell him. “It was so good!”

Jin nods from the other side of the couch and starts laughing as he remembers the performance.

“That was so long ago! I remember it being super fun, though,” he says.

“Please don’t bring that up, that was the most embarrassing day of my life,” Yoongi groans.

“Oh please, Min, you secretly loved it,” Chaewon teases him.

You gasp when you realize it’s definitely still stored somewhere in your phone. Pulling the device out of your pocket, you scoot over so Jungkook can sit next to you while you scroll through your camera roll from almost ten years ago. Taehyung joins you and leans over Jungkook’s shoulder to see as well. 

“Found it!” You squeal.

Unable to resist reliving the memory, everyone gathers behind you to watch. Your previous fits of laughter make a gnarly comeback as you marvel at the younger versions of them dancing and singing their little hearts out. They look like babies in comparison and it makes you swoon.

“That was literally another lifetime,” Namjoon says once the video is done playing.

“Man, we were so fucking cool,” Hoseok states proudly.

“Jungkook, you should wear your hair like that again,” Yunjin says. “You looked fucking hot.”

“Fuck yeah he did, rumor has it Kook lost his virginity that night,” Taehyung jokes as he squeezes Jungkook’s bicep.

“Yo! Shut the hell up, I lost my virginity in high school,” Jungkook retorts. He takes a swig of his drink and chuckles against the glass. “It was the first time I fucked raw, though.”

“Clearly not the last,” you say under your breath.

Jungkook turns to you with his eyes bugging out and you have to stifle your laugh with your hand. Resting your forehead on his shoulder, you gain control of your laughter and whisper a halfhearted apology to him. 

“Ok, girlies, let’s fuck this shit up,” Chaewon annonces. 

Yunjin and Eunchae both chug the last of their drinks before grabbing each of your hands so you can take the stage together. You diligently flip through the songbook to find the perfect one while the guys converse about a recent video game release. Gasping when you spot a familiar song title, you point to the page and eye the girls with a mischievous smirk.

“Wait, don’t we know the dance for this?” Yunjin asks.

You and Eunchae nod together. 

“Oh, we are gonna leave these men fucking gagged,” Chaewon states before plugging the selection into the karaoke machine. 

Chaewon hits the nail on the head, because as soon as the song begins and you start shaking your asses like a bonafide girl group, the men go insane. The seven of them act like they’re your biggest stans who paid for a ticket just to see this. 

Hoseok and Jimin stand to the right of the stage throwing invisible money over you all, while Taehyung and Jungkook are sitting on the end couch spanking the air back and forth. Yoongi is covering his eyes with his hand while he shakes his head, but he’s still peeking at your performance between his fingers. Namjoon is bent over with his elbows on his knees and his hands under his chin like he’s trying to analyze the way your asses bounce. Jin stands with a glass in each hand as he dances along and screams your names in a repeating chant at the top of his lungs. 

When you finish the show stopping performance, all of them are almost as breathless as you from cheering so much. 

“Fuck, why am I hard right now?”

“That was spectacular.”

“You guys were so good!”

“I think I just came.”

“Amazing, bravo.”

“Encore!”

“Remind me why we’re all just friends?”

All four of you are panting as you hop off the stage and attempt to slow your racing heartbeats. Jimin notices you don’t have a drink and goes to hand his glass of vodka cranberry to you.

“Here, you look like you could use this.”

Just as you’re about to wave him off and reject his offer, Chaewon interrupts. 

“Y/N can’t have alcohol,” she states. 

Eyes blowing wide, you glare and wordlessly scold her with your facial expressions, throwing your hands up incredulously for good measure. Poor Jungkook looks like a deer in headlights since you didn’t get the chance to tell him she knows.

“Why not?” Yoongi asks from across the table.

“Are you okay? Nothing’s wrong, right?” Yunjin adds.

“No, no,” you answer with a nonchalant wave of your hand. “Just this new medication I’m on.”

“Which one? Prenatal vitamins?” Eunchae jokes as she takes a drink. Your lip catches between your teeth as you look at her with wide, worrisome eyes. Her expression shifts into shock when she notices your face over the rim of her glass. “Holy fuck, I was joking. Y/N, are you pregnant?”

“Um… yes?” 

The eight people in the room who weren’t previously aware inhale simultaneously to berate you with questions, but are all stopped short by Taehyung speaking first.

“Who the fuck put a baby in you?” 

Gnawing on your lip as your mind scrambles for an answer, your eyes flit to Jungkook for support, but his face is paler than a ghost. You reluctantly accept your fate and sigh in defeat. 

“J… Ju… Jungkook did.”

All hell breaks loose. 

You’re fighting off Eunchae, Yunjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok with your hands up in surrender as you vigorously shake your head back and forth. Jungkook is slowly sinking into his seat with his arms out in defense as Jimin, Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi descend on him like a pack of ravenous wolves. Everyone’s screaming voices are louder than any of the singing tonight and if someone took a picture of the room it could only be classified as a goddamn renaissance painting.

Once the initial shock wears off and Jungkook finally comes to his senses, he shakes his head to collect his thoughts and stands up.

“Everyone, shut the fuck up! My bun is in that oven and I don’t need you assholes stunting their growth with your screaming,” he shouts. 

“Oh, please don’t refer to me as an oven, Koo,” you grimace.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Bams.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Hey!” Eunchae interrupts you. “Lovebirds, you wanna fucking tell us how you got knocked up?” 

Jungkook clears his throat. 

“Well, Eunnie, you see, when a mommy and daddy love each other very mu — AH!”

Jungkook’s mock explanation is cut short by him ducking to avoid the couch pillow Eunchae chucks at his head. 

“Be fucking for real, Jeon. Why is your demon spawn in my best friend?” 

“Hey, don’t talk about our little plum like that,” Jungkook frowns. 

“Little plum?” Jimin and Taehyung speak in unison. 

Jungkook sighs dreamily before responding. 

“That’s how big they are right now.”

“It just happened!” You state. “We just fucked for shits and gigs and now we’re here.”

“You let Jungkook come in you for shits and gigs?” Hoseok asks with his signature face of judgement.

The implications of his tone make you pout and cross your arms over your chest.

“Yes, and it was very enjoyable, thank you very much.”

“Oh, ew.”

“For real?”

“Ah, fuck no.”

Chaewon fake gags with a finger in her mouth. 

“Wait, wait,” Namjoon steps into the center of the room. “How is this gonna work? Are you two gonna co-parent? Switch off houses every other week?”

“I… don’t know,” you answer honestly before looking at Jungkook. He shrugs with his arms out, clearly just as clueless about those details as you. “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Are you gonna find out the gender?” Chaewon asks excitedly, but you quickly shake your head and she frowns. “How am I supposed to get my future niece or nephew the perfect gift if I don’t know their gender?”

“Gender neutral?” You suggest. 

You hear Jin exhale overdramatically and when you look towards him he’s downing a shot and slamming the glass down afterwards. 

“What the fuck is going on?” He shakes his head and his lips make a horse-like noise. “I mean, we’re talking about Jungkook and Y/N having a baby… a motherfucking child.”

“Yeah, and they’re gonna be the best parents ever,” Yoongi states wholeheartedly. 

Yoongi finds your eyes across the room, his adorable gummy smile on full display, and reaffirms his words with a nod. You return the smile gratefully, thanking him with a slow blink as you hold his eye contact. 

“Are you alright? I mean, like, you’re good?” Yunjin asks you. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, especially now that you guys know.”

“What about you, Kook?” Taehyung asks from where he sits beside him. 

Jungkook looks over his shoulder at his friend, the biggest, bunniest grin imaginable on his face.

“I’m fucking ecstatic,” he answers. 

Jimin takes two large strides and hugs Jungkook’s head to his chest, ruffling his hair affectionately. Hoseok joins in next, squishing Jungkook’s cheeks between his hands and giving him adorable fish lips.

“Our Jungkookie is gonna be a dad!” Hoseok coos in his best baby voice. 

Your attention is pulled away by Yunjin’s hand on your lower back. She smiles when you turn around and pulls you into a powerful embrace which you reciprocate. Eunchae and Chaewon join the hug and you rest your head on Chaewon’s shoulder. You know how hard she is on herself whenever she screws up, and this is your way of letting her know it’s alright.

When you part, you feel a tug on your hand, and before you know it Jungkook is bringing you into his lap. You giggle as he tucks you into his chest and nuzzles his face in your neck. 

There’s a brief moment where it feels as though it’s just you and him, and it’s more needed than you even realized. Jungkook’s recognizably warm presence calming you down after the hectic atmosphere of the room took you for a loop.

Everyone moseys around to take a seat as the adrenaline from the news simmers. The eleven of you actually do some catching up rather than just singing and drinking, and eventually smaller faction conversations happen all around the table.  

You stay on Jungkook’s lap the rest of the night with his hand resting on the outside of your thigh to keep you against him.

It’s abnormal behavior for you two, usually keeping a rather firm boundary of friendship, the time you conceived a child together aside, but you don’t question it. Maybe it’s the child in your womb wanting to be close to their father or perhaps the uptick in hormones skewing your regular emotional landscape. Either way, Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind your weight on him and neither do you. 

By the time the clock strikes two in the morning, and you’ve all gone a couple more rounds on the karaoke machine, your head is resting on Jungkook’s shoulder as you flicker in and out of consciousness. He soothingly rubs your spine with his hand, making sure to add more pressure to your lower back where it’s been hurting ever since becoming pregnant. Curling into him more in response, you push your face into his neck and hum contently at the familiar scent and warmth. 

“You tired, Bams?” He whispers to you, moving some hair away from your face. You answer with a single nod, your eyes already closing again from the heaviness of sleep. “Okay, let’s go.”

Jungkook helps you stand, and you hug all your friends goodbye one by one. Everyone congratulates you both again while also threatening to show up to your homes univinted unless you update them on your progress between hangouts.

Jimin changes your group chat name that very night to: Baby Jeon Official Updates Channel 💦🤭👶🏻💕

You and Jungkook leave hand-in-hand, mostly because he has to keep you upright from how tired you are. He drives back to his place since it’s closer and he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you alone when you’re this sleepy. God forbid you accidentally fall asleep on Usagi and crush her all night long. The car ride is brief, but it’s smooth enough that you fall asleep in the passenger seat almost instantly. 

Jungkook carries you inside instead of waking you up, knowing you need more rest nowadays than usual. Although, if he’s being honest, pregnant with his child or not, he’d still carry you and tuck you into bed.

When you wake up in Jungkook’s spare bedroom/home office the next morning, you’re thoroughly confused, but as your sleepiness begins to wane you remember the end of the night and the events which led you here. The smell of pancakes encourages you to walk down the stairs to Jungkook’s kitchen. You’re still wrapped in his comforter when you enter and Jungkook laughs as you approach him like the Queen of bedtime. 

“Morning, Bambi,” he greets you as he flips the final pancake onto the plate and turns off the griddle. 

“Good morning,” you say with a tired smile. 

Just then, the sound of trampling paws comes barreling towards you. Smiling broadly as you turn towards the sound, you bend down to greet the adorable Doberman who’s wagging his tail in excitement at seeing you.

“Bammie!” You cheer as you pet behind his ears. “Oh, I’ve missed you, my good boy.” 

He runs around your legs a couple times before scurrying across the hardwood to bring you a bone to throw. You happily oblige him and watch in amusement as he runs away to fetch it before plopping on the couch to gnaw on the toy.

“Come eat, Bams,” Jungkook tells you as he sets two plates on his dining table. 

Following his orders, you leave the comforter over the back of the couch and sit across from him to eat the eggs, pancakes, and bacon he made for you both. You eat in comfortable silence for a while until you’re both nearly done.

“Koo, I’m sorry about last night. Chaewon guessed it and then her big mouth spilled the beans. I know it wasn’t the way we wanted it to happen, but at least it’s over with, right?” 

“It’s alright,” Jungkook responds before gulping down his orange juice. “I’m glad we finally did it and now everyone knows. Plus, it got me thinking about some stuff I hadn’t really thought about yet.”

“Like what?”

“Well, about what Namjoon hyung said,” he explains. “I mean, he makes a really good point. I want our kid to have a normal family life even if we’re just best friends and not romantic partners.”

“What do you think we should do?”

“I think you should move in with me.”

You choke on your orange juice. 

Truthfully, there isn’t anything shocking about his statement, you just weren’t expecting it at that moment. Jungkook has a three bedroom, two and a half bath house which he owns, while you rent a one bedroom apartment. He’s been begging you ever since he bought the property to move into his spare bedroom. The two of you spend almost all your time together anyway and he doesn’t see the point in you wasting money on rent when his house is completely paid off. 

The reason you haven’t accepted his offer before is because you never want to take advantage of his wealth or be a burden on him. Being best friends is one thing, being roommates is another. 

Now, though, you have a biological right to be a burden on him because he stuck a baby in you. 

“Are you sure?” You ask him.

“Of course I am,” he replies in a heartbeat. “I thought about it all last night and it only makes sense. I have two extra bedrooms, one for you and one for the baby.” 

“But what about your home office and your gym?”

“I can move my gym equipment to the garage and my desk can easily fit in my bedroom.” You sigh and push your fork around your plate as you contemplate his proposal. “Bams, you’re gonna be the mother of my child, will you just let me take care of you for once?”

As soon as you look into his starry eyes, you know there’s no chance you’ll say no. Jungkook obviously wants to do this because he loves you and wants to make sure you and the baby have everything you need, so who are you to say no?

“Okay,” you agree. “When should I move in?”

THREE

The cardboard box in your hands is slowly slipping from your grasp as you ascend the stairs, but you’re determined to make it to the top before readjusting. You have to reach the landing before Jungkook catches you. If he sees you disobeying his instruction of sitting still, he’ll definitely blow a gasket. 

You don’t know what it is with men and thinking pregnant women can’t do anything themselves. It’s still only the first trimester, and sure, your bump has grown some more, but you aren’t completely useless. 

Honestly, if you weren’t so stubborn, you would’ve taken his offer of moving all the boxes into the house by himself, but your competitive nature has you lugging a box of cat toys up the stairs instead. 

“Bambi! What did I fucking say?”

Dropping the box by your feet only three steps from the top, you blow your hair away from your face and place your hands on your hips.

“Fuck you, Jungkook. I do what I want.”

“You wanna look me in the eyes when you say that?” 

“… No.”

“That’s what I thought.” The sound of his combat boots coming up the stairs is all you hear as he moves to steal the box from your feet. Once it’s secure in his arms, he looks at you like a teacher scolding their student and gestures to the couch with his head. “Go sit down.”

“I’m not incapable, you know?” You say with your arms crossed. 

“I know that, Bams,” Jungkook states. “It’s not about that. I lift more than this in a single workout at the gym. Why should you have to do it when I’m perfectly capable?”

He’s right. You know that, he knows that, so you leave him alone on the steps to sit down on the couch with a huff. 

Bam quickly joins you and lays his head in your lap as he watches his dad move back and forth through the house with curious eyes. Scratching behind his ear, you laugh at the way his tail repeatedly whacks the couch as it wags. 

Usagi is still in her carrier in your new bedroom since you want to make sure everything is moved in before introducing her and Bam. You and Jungkook both agree that if they get in a fight, it’s her little munchkin ass who will be the main aggressor, especially since Bam is scared of his own shadow. 

Once Jungkook’s done moving the last of the boxes, he flops aggressively into the armchair next to the couch. He pats his thigh and Bam instantly leaves your side to jump into his lap instead. Jungkook leans down to kiss his precious pup before letting his head fall back as he tries to catch his breath.

“Perfectly capable, huh?” 

“Shut up.”

“You’re getting old, Koo. Soon you’re gonna be a dad and you’ll have a beer gut —”

“Nuh uh, never gonna happen. I’ll have my abs until the day I die,” he corrects you.

“Please, no you will not. You think you’re gonna be hitting the gym at 80?” You ask as you lean forward in your seat.

“Yes. My love comes from my abs, I can’t lose them,” he states.

The couch cushion indents where your head falls against it as you laugh heartily. 

“What? Your love comes from your abs? What the hell does that even mean?” 

“Everyone I meet loves my abs, so now they’re just like, full of love, and that’s where it comes from,” he explains unironically.

“Everyone? I don’t think that’s true,” you say with a smirk.

“No?” Jungkook gently guides Bam away and struts over to you. “You’re gonna look at me and tell me you don’t love my abs? That if I took my shirt off right now you wouldn’t go all googly-eyed?”

“Fuck, no,” you scoff. 

Jungkook clicks his tongue and then lifts his shirt to engulf you under the fabric. You screech and shove at his waist, kicking your legs haphazardly like you’re being suffocated. 

“Let me out of here!” You scream, but it’s severely muffled by the fabric. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I can’t hear you,” Jungkook teases. “Ow!”

Jungkook immediately frees you and backs away after he feels your teeth sinking into his side. He rubs over the bite mark with a big pout on his face, as if he didn’t start this little charade. 

You mock his expression for a moment before standing to go up the stairs and check on your furry child. Jungkook follows begrudgingly, letting his feet drag along the floor like a petulant child. When you enter your new bedroom, conveniently right beside Jungkook’s, Usagi starts meowing incessantly and scratching at her carrier. You soothe her with some baby speak and check that the door is closed before letting her out. Her little legs immediately bring her to the floor so she can explore the unfamiliar room. 

She meows every couple of seconds whenever she encounters something new and you watch as she headbutts everything in sight as a way of marking the furniture with her scent. Ironically, this is all the same furniture from your old bedroom just in a different space and formation.

Hands wrap around your waist from behind and you sigh at the feeling of Jungkook’s firm chest meeting your back. Obviously, he’s forgiven you for your little retaliatory love bite. 

“I’m really glad you’re here, Bams,” he tells you from where his head rests on your shoulder. 

Your hand reaches behind you to sneak into his hair and scratch at his scalp affectionately. He hums and rests his cheek against your shoulder. You’d argue he picked up the mannerisms from his dog, but he’s always been touchy like this.  

“I’m happy to be here,” you reply. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Those words no longer apply the following day when you’re hunched over Jungkook’s toilet and spilling your guts into the bowl. 

It’s a great unknown why morning sickness is called that when it happens at all hours of the freaking day. You naively believed you snuck past its clutches since you’re already on the brink of your second trimester, but apparently the wonderful symptom was just waiting until you had Jungkook’s big fancy bathroom to throw up in. 

Groaning in agony, you plop back onto the tile and rest your head on the cabinet. Your throat is burning from all the regurgitation, there are popped blood vessels all over your cheeks and forehead, making you look like you have freckles, and salty tears from the effort of repeatedly emptying your stomach are drying on your skin. 

You caress your baby bump with a glare, making a mental note to scold them at least once when they’re older for putting you through this. 

The sound of the front door opening makes your ears twitch. Bam’s heavy footsteps can be heard barreling towards the door and then Jungkook’s voice joins in as he greets his beloved pet. 

“Bambi?”

“In here,” you say through your sore vocal chords. Jungkook’s face appears in the doorway and you whimper as tears fill your eyes again. “I fucking hate you for doing this to me.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your current state and he instantly sinks to his knees to pull you into his arms. He holds your head against his chest as you cry from the pain and fatigue of running back and forth to the bathroom all day. Jungkook’s been out running errands all day so you’ve been all alone until now.

“I’m sorry, Bams,” he whispers into your hair. “Wish it was me instead.”

There’s no opportunity for you to reply because the familiar feeling of bile climbing up your throat forces you out of his embrace and back over the toilet. Jungkook grabs your hair, making sure to collect the shorter pieces that cradle your face, and holds it in a makeshift ponytail as he rubs your back. 

Once you’re done, and after the sound of the toilet flushing disperses, you hear soft cries coming from behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you see Jungkook wiping his eyes with his shirtsleeve. 

“Koo,” you call out to him. 

He hiccups and attempts a brave face, smiling at you even as tears slip from his waterline.

“Sorry, you know I hate seeing you in pain,” he explains. 

You frown and turn around to grab his cheeks, brushing the remaining tears away from them. It’s true you’re already well aware of his empathetic nature and have been for as long as you’ve known him. 

“I know,” you say with a smile as you push his hair away from his face. “Remember that time I got bullied in middle school and was crying on the playground, and then you started crying because I was?” Jungkook laughs, his eyes closing as he remembers the moment. “I’ll never forget what you said.” You clear your throat so you can give an accurate representation of his voice. “I never suffer myself, Bambi, I only suffer when I see you suffering.” 

Jungkook smiles big and laughs again at your adorable imitation of his deep timbre. 

“You know, if we have a boy, I’m gonna have to tussle with him over this,” he says. “No one hurts my Bams, not even my own kid.”

Your responding chuckle is strained due to how sore your body is. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bring Jungkook closer for a tight hug, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt. His palm slowly moves up and down your spine in a steady cadence to soothe you until the next wave of nausea comes. 

The remainder of the day is spent in the bathroom together, which is luckily spacious enough for not only you two, but Usagi and Bam who both come to join you at one point.

The nausea comes in waves, sometimes occurring multiple times back to back or alternatively with a large lapse of time between them. It holds you hostage in the bathroom for a few days, and you have to take PTO when the work week begins, but eventually the symptoms simmer to about once every couple days after your doctor prescribes medication. 

Another lovely symptom you’re experiencing as of late is intense cravings for extremely specific food groups, which is why you’re currently in a screaming match with Jungkook over pickles. 

“I’m not buying you pickles, Bambi,” Jungkook sternly states.

“Jungkook, you’re not the one growing a baby inside of you. If I say I want pickles, I should be getting pickles!” You shout, your feet stomping on the ground reactively. 

“You fucking hate pickles!” Jungkook matches your tone.

“Yes, but pregnancy cravings don’t care about what I like or don’t like, and they’re saying they want pickles!”

“You’re not going to eat them, Bams, I know you!”

“Yes, I will!”

“You really want me to leave the house at three in the morning for a vegetable that you despise?” Jungkook scoffs in outrage. “You won’t even eat a sandwich if a pickle was on the plate because you claim you can still taste it!” 

“That doesn’t matter, Koo!”

Jungkook groans and runs his hands down his face before pushing his hair back. 

“I swear to God, Bambi, if I get back here, and you don’t eat that entire fucking jar, I will kick you out of this goddamn house!” 

“No, you won’t, you love me too much,” you brag and stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, unfortunately, I do,” Jungkook admits angrily. He grumbles to himself the entire time he’s putting on his slides and slipping on his jacket to drive to the nearest 24 hour convenience store. His hand is on the doorknob when he turns back to say one final comment. “You know what the worst part about this is? Most guys in my position are at least getting some pussy for putting up with this shit, but not me! No reward! I’m doing this out of pure, unconditional love for you!” 

You gawk at his remark, not recognizing the words coming out of his mouth. Jungkook has never in his life asked for anything in return, let alone imply you owe him a sexual favor.

The door slams shut before you can respond, and a cry breaks from your chest as your head falls forward. Bam hears the noise and comes to comfort you, nudging his head up against your leg like the good boy he is, but barely a minute later, his head jerks when he’s distracted by the sound of the door opening. You don’t even get the chance to look up completely before you’re forced into someone’s arms who smells a lot like Jungkook.

“Bams, I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Jungkook tells you. 

His apology only makes you cry more, shoving your face into his shirt and soaking it with tears. 

“That was so fucked up, Koo,” you sniffle. 

“I know, I’m so sorry,” he replies. “I didn’t mean it, okay? You don’t owe me anything, Bams, especially not that.” He pulls away from you and lifts your face by your chin. “Please don’t think that I, even for a second, ever expect you to repay me for taking care of you. I do it because I love you and that’s the only reward I need.” 

Wiping your tears with your shirtsleeve, you slap his chest a couple times for good measure. He chuckles because of how lightly you smack him.

“You’re forgiven,” you grumble. “Now, can you please go get me these fuckass pickles?”

Jungkook smiles and nods his head, his hand on your chin moving to caress your hair for a moment. 

“I’ll buy you pickles everyday for the rest of your life if that’s what you want, Bambi,” he states. 

“It isn’t. I fucking hate pickles,” you say with a smile. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your hair before waving goodbye and heading to the store. When he returns twenty minutes later, he’s carrying a couple bags of miscellaneous groceries as well as a jar of pickles. 

You wait patiently for him to place the bags in the kitchen before he hands the open jar to you. The smell alone eases the craving that’s been eating away at your stomach for hours now. Grabbing one of the skewers, you pull it out of the juice and take a small bite off the end. 

Instantly, your brain screams at you in disgust, and you open your mouth again to spit the piece into your hand. Realizing you now have to face Jungkook so he can say I told you so, your eyes screw shut and you turn towards him. Except, when you open your eyes, he isn’t beside you anymore, he’s walking back from the kitchen with your favorite flavor of chips in hand.

“Got these just in case,” he tells you as he swaps out the jar in your hand for the bag. 

You grimace, guilt pooling in your stomach when you realize his trip out into the night was for nought. 

“Koo…”

“It’s alright, Bambi. The fact that I was right makes this all worth it,” he says with a sly grin. 

The chips taste like salty pieces of heaven and you eat the entire bag that night. You keep the jar of pickles for occasional sniffing because, for whatever reason, your brain loves the smell even though it hates the taste. This pregnancy is already messing with your brain chemistry more than you care to admit and it’s only the beginning. 

As the weeks go on, your pregnancy continues to mess with you in the form of a different, but equally as strong, craving. 

It initially hits you while you’re putting together Usagi’s new cat tower in the living room. Thankfully, she and Bam get along just fine. In fact, she’s currently lying on him while they nap together on the other side of the room. 

The instructions for this contraption are annoyingly hard to understand and you’re holding the instructional pamphlet up in the air as you attempt to make out what size screw you need in the stupidly small font it’s written in. 

The sound of the door opening catches your attention. As you lower the paper to see the familiar figure entering the room, your mouth suddenly dries up. 

Jungkook’s coming back from his home gym which is now in the garage and the tips of his hair are drenched in sweat. His chest is rising and falling in deep pants from the intensity of his workout and the black shirt he’s wearing sticks to his chest, perfectly outlining his pecs. Then, much to your agony, he takes the bottom of his shirt and wipes it across his forehead, giving you a perfect view of his abs. 

The feeling that shoots straight into your core is absolutely foreign. Sure, you know Jungkook is hot, that’s a fact of the universe no one is trying to deny. But you’ve seen him shirtless before, hell, you’ve seen him entirely naked. The bump protruding from your womb tells you that much, and yet you’ve never felt turned on by him doing something so mundane.

It makes you question why your body, and more particularly your pussy, is suddenly insatiable and the sight of him is making drool drip from your mouth where it’s fallen open in awe of his physique. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice your change in demeanor as he waves hello before heading upstairs to shower. Once he’s gone, your body releases its tension and you sigh in relief. Although, the feeling doesn’t entirely go away, and you end up spending the rest of the evening uncomfortably horny. 

That very night you take matters into your own hands, literally. You haven’t masturbated since getting pregnant, not for any particular reason other than just not feeling the urge, but now the urge has you in a chokehold and you need to fix it. 

Closing your eyes and slinking comfortably into your sheets, you pull your shorts and panties off in one go before trailing your hand down to your core. You’re still wet from earlier, no doubt because you saw Jungkook in all his post workout glory. The image of him wiping the sweat from his brow with his shirt is still on your mind when your fingers dip between your folds. 

A quiet moan escapes as you move your leaking essence around with your fingertips. It’s been more than three months since you’ve felt any sort of sexual pleasure, the night you spent with Jungkook being the last time. 

Your eyes roll as you play with yourself by switching between pushing your fingers into your cunt and circling your clit. The squelching sound helps to turn you on, but the entire time all you can think is that it isn’t enough. It barely scratches the surface of your sexual need and is a sorry excuse for pleasure after what you Jungkook made you feel. 

Huffing in frustration, you shut your eyes again and try to forget about the world around you, but it’s only when you think back to earlier today that your pleasure spikes and you moan again. 

Realizing what the trick is, you begrudgingly let your imagination, or more so your memory, run rampant. You think back to that night and the way Jungkook’s lips felt against yours, and the way his cock penetrated you so deep you were seeing stars. The memory of his deep voice in your ear makes you moan exuberantly. Your hand falls into a quick rhythm as all the memories come flooding back. Everything about that night sends you closer to the edge of ecstasy. His weight above you, the heat of his skin, his taste, his moans and grunts, the way he fills you up. All of it forces you to bite down on your fist and cry when your orgasm overwhelms you.

The aftershocks of your pleasure have you panting as you come down from the high. You feel immense relief now that your desire is satiated after a long day of feeling your thighs twitch. Pulling your hand away, you stand to wash your hands so you can finally get some rest. 

Hopefully, this symptom will eventually disappear like the others and you won’t be riddled with sexual cravings through the entirety of your pregnancy. 

The next morning you’re pouring yourself a cup of tea to drink before heading to work. Jungkook comes skipping down the stairs in his business casual attire, his sleeves partially rolled up to reveal his tattoos. You wave to him and push the cup of coffee you poured for him across the counter.

“Thanks, Bams,” he says with a squeeze to your arm. 

This is the normal, everyday occurrence for you now, and it’s nice having a routine that works for you both. You didn’t realize how easy living together would be and you’re glad it’s finally happening. Besides the times your pregnancy has turned into a sick, desperate, crazy person, it’s been business as usual for you two even with the adjustment of being roommates. 

“You gonna be home for dinner?” You ask him as he takes a sip of the drink. His brow creases and he looks adorably angry, letting you know you made it just right. 

“Yeah, the deadline for the newest patch was last week so I shouldn’t be staying late,” he answers. 

“I’m making your favorite, your mom sent me the recipe last week,” you tell him.

“No shit,” he says, eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs. You nod in confirmation and he enthusiastically claps his hands. There’s a brief lull in the conversation, but then Jungkook seemingly remembers something and grabs your attention. “Actually, there's something I was gonna talk to you about.”

“What’s up?” Leaning over the counter, you take a sip and wait for him to speak.

“Well, I may or may not have heard you last night and —”

The sound of you choking and spitting out your tea interrupts him. 

“Excuse me?”

“I heard you, ya know, having a little fun all by your lonesome last night.” You stare at him incredulously across the island. “Surprise, surprise, the wall between our rooms isn’t that thick.” 

“Koo, why are you bringing this up?” You ask. “I mean, thanks for letting me know, I guess?”

“No, no,” he chuckles. “I’m not saying it to embarrass you or anything, Bambi.” He mirrors your stance so your faces are only a few inches apart. “I was just going to offer my services in case you need something more than your own hand.”

“Huh?”

“It’s just, I mean, I’m only a room away, and I know your hormones are probably going awol and making you needy and shit. So, if you ever want to, the option is there.”

“Koo, that’s very sweet of you, but I’m not gonna use you like that.”

“Oh, yeah, because having sex with you is such a chore. Worst night of my fucking life!” You laugh and slap his arm playfully. He stands to his full height with a wink. “Just think about it, alright?”

You do think about it. Unfortunately, it’s all you can think about. It already freaked you out enough when you couldn’t get yourself off without thinking of him, and now your body is mentally somersaulting in celebration because of his offer. 

It’s definitely not romantic feelings swirling inside you, because just as you told your friends, you don’t feel butterflies with Jungkook, but it’d be both impractical and impossible to deny you have sexual feelings for him. Whether it’s from pregnancy hormones or something else entirely, you clearly want him something awful. Greed they talked about in the bible type shit. 

The only thing you don’t want is for him to fuck you because he’s trying to help you out. If you’re going to hook up again, you want him to want you in the same way. 

Despite the mental turmoil it initially puts you through, time goes on without either of you bringing up his little offer. Your body still messes with you by making you horny at all hours of the day, but you usually just satisfy yourself before bed and all is good. 

Tonight is different. No matter how hard you try you can’t bring yourself to come. Your fingers are pruny from how long you’ve been playing with yourself, but nothing is working. It’s nearly two in the morning, and although it’s a weekend, you still want some sleep. 

Grunting and kicking your blankets away, you cross your arms over your chest and pout in the darkness of your room. The quiet atmosphere of the house is helpful for lulling you to sleep, but your thighs are twitching with need and you know you’ll be restless if you don’t fix it before going to bed. You sigh and sit on the edge of your bed, chewing your lip as you debate if you’re really about to do what you’re thinking of doing. Before you can overthink it any further, you stand up and throw your door open. 

Usagi makes a noise of confusion from her bed in the corner of your room, so you whisper to her you’ll be right back and shut the door. 

It takes you a minimum of five minutes to gather the courage to knock on Jungkook’s door. He was working late tonight on a new project and went to bed early to catch up on his sleep. Guilt pools in your stomach at the thought of waking him up for such a selfish reason, but you know he’ll scold you if he finds out you needed him without telling him as such.

The sound of your hand against the wood feels extra loud in the stark silence of the house, and it only takes a couple seconds for Jungkook to softly call for you from inside the room. 

You twist the door knob and peek your head inside. Jungkook only has one eye open, and he’s fluffing his messy hair in confusion when you enter his room. 

“Bambi? Is everything okay?” He asks sleepily. 

“Mmhmm,” you say as you chew on your lip. “I, um…”

The embarrassment stirring within you is almost enough to bring your morning sickness back with a vengeance. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I… need you,” you whisper. 

Jungkook sits up, his other eye finally opening, although they’re still half-lidded with sleep. 

“Need me how, Bams? Are you alright?”

“Like… sexually,” you finally answer.

His eyes open a little wider at your response, but soon enough his expression softens and he smiles warmly. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, his hand gesturing for you to join him. 

You tentatively place one foot in front of the other until you reach the edge of his mattress and climb in. He holds his hand out for you and once you’re close enough he grabs your waist to help you straddle his thighs. 

As soon as you feel him beneath you and his chest against your own, the tension in your body disintegrates and the relief sends your forehead to his shoulder. Jungkook reacts instinctively, one hand scratching your scalp while the other rubs your back, and you whimper from comforting sensations.

“Tell me what you need, babygirl.”

“I don’t know. Nothing’s working and I… I just need relief,” you explain. 

“Okay, do you want my hands or my mouth?” 

You shake your head.

“You, Koo. Want you.”

Jungkook hums and combs his fingers through your hair, the hand on your back rising to cradle your face instead.

“You’ve got me, Bambi. I’ll give you anything you want.” You feel him mouthing at your jaw and breathe a sigh of relief. “Every part of me,” he whispers ardently.

After a prolonged moment of gentle neck kisses, Jungkook takes your hips in his hands to lift you and pull your bottoms down before moving his own pants out of the way. You hear the sound of him pumping his cock to get himself hard, but you’re too busy returning his favor by caressing his neck with your lips to see the motion yourself. The firm touch of his hand on your lower back guides you into the right position atop his lap. You sink down slowly, with Jungkook holding you steady as he fills you inch by delicious inch. The wetness from your earlier attempts at self pleasure allows him to slide into you with ease. 

You moan unabashedly at the feeling of his thick cock inside you again, it’s warm and throbbing within your walls and you kiss the bare skin of his shoulder appreciatively. He feels like pure heaven and it’s worrisome how desperately you wish you could stay like this forever. 

“Koo, you feel so good,” you moan into his ear.

While you begin kissing his neck again, Jungkook starts bouncing you up and down on his cock via his hold on your hips. The euphoric feeling the action creates must be mutual, because a pair of vibrant moans and the clapping of your skin is the only sound in the room. His noises are deeper than normal since he’s still fresh from slumber and the low tone makes your head spin. 

When you eventually take over and pick up the pace, one of his hands leaves your hip to thread into your hair. 

“Missed this, Bams,” he tells you sincerely. “You feel fucking perfect around me.”

Jungkook brings your face close so he can kiss you. He’s gentle with his affection, lips moving at a snail’s pace to savor the feeling of kissing you once again. Tracing your bottom lip with his tongue, you moan gratefully when he pushes it past the border of your lips to meet yours. Your arms encircle his neck as you shamelessly make out, pulling him impossibly close so his bare chest is pressing on you. 

“So tight, Bams, feels fucking amazing.”

“Mm, it’s just for you. Pussy’s all yours, Koo.”

Jungkook groans aggressively and kisses you with a new wave of passion. His fingers dig into your scalp reactively and you whine, your thighs working overtime to fuck his cock into you again and again. The dual sensation of his kiss and his dick splitting you apart rattles your brain until all you can focus on are your movements. 

When he notices your pace stuttering from your impending climax, he steals control again, wrapping both arms around your waist to steady you while he thrusts into you from below. You gasp and bite into the skin of his shoulder as he fucks you with everything he has. 

It’s no surprise your orgasm approaches faster than usual, since you were already worked up from your previous ministrations. You welcome the familiar feeling of your abdomen and thighs tightening as Jungkook continues pistoning into you, kissing him again when you feel yourself tipping over the precipice. Running your fingers through his hair and tugging on the black strands, you pull a grunt from his lips that only serves to further your pursuit. 

“M’close,” you breathe into his mouth. 

“Come for me, Bams,” he replies without missing a beat.

The tip of his cock only meets your g-spot a couple more times before you come with a throaty moan, your head tipping back as Jungkook continues to fuck you through your high. His hips slow to a stop as your body relaxes and breathing levels out, so you question him with a glance. 

“What are you doing?”

“You came, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.”

“I’m not the one with pregnancy hormones,” he chuckles.

Your hands move from his hair to caress his jaw.

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “This is a two way street, Koo. You’re not a sex toy, I didn’t come in here just for me.”

Jungkook smiles sweet as pie and kisses the tip of your nose. 

“I know, Bambi,” he says. “But honestly, I think we should both get some sleep. Why don’t you stay in here with me and we can pick this up again in the morning?”

You frown, but begrudgingly agree when you notice how tired Jungkook looks. 

After pulling out, Jungkook readjusts your bottoms back to your hips before tucking himself into his pants. He cuddles into his sheets with one arm resting against the pillow next to him. Gesturing with his head towards his outstretched limb, you happily take the hint and lay your head on his tatted bicep. 

Cuddling with Jungkook is foreign, but the man himself is so familiar that it’s not awkward despite it being the first time. Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist to bring you into his chest, and it’s shocking just how wonderful it feels to be entirely encapsulated by him. You hum appreciatively as comfort seeps into your very bones and makes a home in your nervous system. Without thinking, you start tracing over his collarbones with your fingertips and he kisses your cheek and temple. 

You both fall asleep with ease, your quiet breaths tangling together in the limited space between your faces. 

When you wake up, Jungkook is behind you, but his arm is still draped across your waist and your head remains comfortably on his bicep. You smile without realizing and cuddle deeper into his embrace, lacing your fingers with the ones resting on your stomach. 

Your view upon looking down is just your intertwined hands above your small baby bump and your smile grows exponentially, your heart squeezing in your chest at the sight of all three of you together this way. 

The sentimental moment is brief, because soon enough you recognize the feeling of Jungkook’s dick pressing against your ass and desire begins banging on your door and demanding you let it in. As any good human in your position should, you nonchalantly wiggle your ass and snicker to yourself when you feel his cock stiffening. The sound of Jungkook languidly groaning behind you lights a fire inside your stomach that blazes down to your thighs. 

His hand squeezes yours and you feel him nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Morning,” he murmurs in your ear.

“Morning wood, more like it,” you reply.

Jungkook chuckles warmly in your ear and it spreads goosebumps across your skin like wildfire. He releases your hand to grab your hip instead, pulling you into him so you can feel exactly how hard he is. Your exhale becomes a moan when he ruts against your ass and his hand leaves your hip to reach your folds. 

The second his fingers slip beneath your panties and touch your warm cunt, your mind goes to static.

“Shit, Bams, you’re fucking soaked,” he notes.

“I’ve been wet for the past two weeks straight,” you admit.

“You should’ve told me,” Jungkook says as he licks and nibbles on your earlobe. “Would’ve taken care of you.”

You whine when he starts sucking on your neck just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt. 

“Yeah,” you moan. “I’m understanding how grave a mistake that was now.” 

He laughs again before returning to his previous endeavor of kissing and licking your throat. His fingers move in and out of you lackadaisically, slowly stretching your hole open as he curls the digits against your front wall to reach that perfect spongy spot. You find yourself gripping his forearm to keep yourself steady as the pleasure threatens to pull you under its waves. 

Once Jungkook deems you wet enough, he removes his fingers from your pussy and brings them to your mouth for you to lick clean. As you work your tongue around and between his two middle fingers you hear the rustling of pants behind you. Even though the last time was mere hours ago, your heart is already racing at the thought of him stuffing you full again. 

Jungkook runs his dick through your folds and presses the tip against your leaking hole, making your essence coat his head with a pretty sheen. You moan reactively, your head meeting his shoulder while his cock stretches your velvet walls. 

The fingers previously between your lips dig into the flesh of your waist as he starts rocking into you from behind. He’s doing all the work, simultaneously pulling your hips back while he thrusts into your cunt mercilessly. You’re thankful for his diligence, because your mind is going haywire from the feeling of him throbbing inside you and the veins of his cock rubbing along your walls. It’d be impossible for you to assist him with anything in this state. 

He’s still worshipping your neck with his mouth while fucking you like an animal and the contradicting feeling forces your eyes into your skull.

“You’re so fucking tight, Bams. So wet… you’re making me fucking crazy.” His warm breath on your neck makes you keen. 

“More, Koo, I need more of you,” you reply.

Jungkook hears you loud and clear. He holds your waist with both arms to keep you snug against him so he can thrust into you with more force, his pace speeding up in conjecture with the extra effort. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp. “Jungkook.”

“Yeah? This what you wanted?”

“Fuck, yes, you’re so fucking big, Koo,” you whine.

He relentlessly fucks into your cunt, rolling his hips against your ass and sending his cock straight to your g-spot. Your nails make crescent moons on his arm where you’re still holding on for dear life. The other hand stretches before you to clutch the sheets like a vice for fear you’ll lose your mind if you don’t have something in your grasp. 

The melody of your moans and his grunts are downright pornagraphic and serves as filthy music to your ears. There’s nothing you want more than for him to continue fucking you, and if you could keep him buried in your cunt for all eternity, you would gladly do so. 

“You close?” He asks as he bites your ear. 

“Yes.”

“Good, gonna make a mess of you, Bambi.”

The erotic combination of words, tickling breaths, his firm chest behind you, and the massive cock spreading your pussy apart have you going institutionally insane. Somehow, he manages to gain more speed as your orgasms near and the imminent release makes you scream. It’s barely a second later that you’re coming with a pathetic cry of his name. He follows immediately, his cum marking your walls as his own while he repeatedly fucks his seed into you. 

His hips never cease their movement even once your highs wane, he just continues rolling into your cunt while his cock softens inside of you. You whimper from the oversensitivity, but even the uncomfortable pressure doesn’t make you stop him. The feeling of having him within you is too addicting to let it end just yet. 

Eventually, he stops lazily fucking you, but even then he still doesn’t pull out. You hold the position until sleep brings you both back into its embrace, Jungkook’s arms securely around you while the dripping mixture of your essences pools on the bed below.

Taglist: @lovingkoalaface @starcandybby @junniesoleilkth @keylime4eva @kissyfacekoo @rpwprpwprpwprw @spideyjimin @jjeonjjk7 @joonlover1207 @annpeachy @rexana19 @heartwith0uthe @kosmos1307 @minyoongi7016 @magicalnachocreator @misschelliejeon @bubblyi3 @bhonbhon @polnaraffsrack @amarawayne @majesticjung-97 @kmpj9 @upo1313 @songbyeonkim @kikikaaa @glowjuli @avawants2havefun @hyeinwluv85s @someonegoood @kyljjk

The Second Trimester coming on 6/27/25 at 7:00 pm EST

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[kayharrisons]

Will you go, lassie, go? [Remmick x fem!Reader] [18+] [1 of 11]

Remmick has been drifting for a decade now, aimlessly passing from one town to the next as he hunts and feeds and fucks and-

And. And. And.

One could go mad after a while with all those ands.

Loneliness threatens to consume him, to pull him right over the brink and into insanity.

Until, that is, he hears a voice sweeter than a nightingale's and with a haunting, melodic pain that buries itself deep in his chest and takes root there.

Until, that is, he meets you.

A/N: hey guys!! My first attempt at a Sinners fic o o p I LOVED the movie sm and Remmick was just 😩 😩 Jack O'Connell the man that you are fr!! Anyway, idk if I'll write a LOT for Sinners, my brain rot is still very much Romulus focused BUT HEY have this lil two shot for now! Scottish Reader x Remmick oh no oh DEAAAAAAR!!! I'm not a native Gaelic speaker by any means (I know a couple basic words lol), so any future Gaelic sentences will be in italics! This fic is set some time in the 20s before Sinners! Next chapter will be up soon hopefully!! Apologies if there's any mistakes we rock and roll buckaroo over here ✌️

Series warnings: younger woman (19-21) x older man (literal vampire), blood, biting, sexual acts, mentions of immigration and racist/xenophobic attitudes towards Scottish and Irish communities, colonisation mentions (Ireland in Remmick's past), manipulative Remmick, naive Reader, Remmick was at one point Jack the Ripper 💀

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Time.

It's a funny thing. Especially to someone like him, to someone with this affliction.

It both passes in the blink of an eye and goes by slower than those snails that used to infest his mother's garden when he was a boy. He can't remember her face much, but he remembers how she used to rant and rave over the little creatures as they ruined vegetables and plants she'd oh so painstakingly grown.

He's had many families over the centuries. Many mothers, many brothers, sisters.

The faces blend, sometimes, when you're as old as he.

His birth mother had eyes like his, he thinks. She had his laugh.

He recalls having been told, frequently, that he takes after his father.

He wonders if that was before or after his skull was cleaved in two. He can't recall his father's face before it was split in half like a log for the fire.

Fire. Warmth.

He misses that.

Misses sitting with his brothers and sisters around the hearth as their mother hummed lullabies in their native tongue. Síthmaith had been his favourite of the bunch, his precious sister only nine when her throat had been cut to the bone.

Remmick had been the oldest of the bunch.

He'd failed them, and this, he thinks, is retribution.

He's never done well without people to care for, could never cope knowing people were sad. His mother used to smile and call him her mo mhuirnin whenever she'd catch him being kind.

The last time in his human life that he'd been kind, he had invited a sobbing stranger inside of his home, a frail woman begging for shelter against Protestant brutes, could he please help her?

The children hadn't survived the turning. They never did, according to the woman.

His mother had taken one look at her dead children and screamed an almighty roar of agony before walking out into the sunlight.

Remmick can't remember his mother's voice anymore, but he remembers that scream.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The centuries passed. He spent it learning, teaching himself.

He occupied himself with hobbies, with history, and eventually with song.

That was the one thing he'd never allowed himself to forget over the years. The act of putting pen to paper and letting pain spill out as ink, of taking the time to sit back and think of melodies, of chords and notes.

He loves to sing.

Sometimes, he can still hear his mother when he sings, can hear his siblings laughter around the fire.

There is rarely anyone around to hear him, however.

New families come and go; not everyone is suited to this way of life, a lot lack survival instinct he's found. Lovers are there for an hour or two or three, the ones that linger end up drained upon the bed, his songs still lingering in their dead ears.

Perhaps one time he'd been overzealous in Whitechapel, had earned himself a nasty moniker and had had to hastily retreat to the countryside for a few years all while the public pondered over the identity of this Ripper fellow.

Animal blood wasn't quite the same as a human's, it must be said.

It's rather like drinking tar, he's come to find. Unpleasant and thick down his throat. Only worth doing in a pinch.

He hasn't met anyone else who's even tried it.

The others he'd been with on the ship, the ones who had burnt brighter than the sun, had rolled their eyes at him for that admission.

Lions were not expected to eat plants and nothing more, so why should they?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

He hasn't eaten in weeks.

He could. Easily. Easy pickings don't even begin to describe half of the people he's come across as he wanders the earth.

New York had been ripe with bodies, and he'd indulged himself more than necessary during the ten years he had spent there.

But his legs were leading him south. And who was he to go against them? Taken him this far, hadn't they?

He is curious to see the rest of the continent, to meet people, hear stories, to rebuild that which he's lost time and time again.

He can help people, like he used to, he can give them a family, can take all their petty human squabbles and differences and turn it into something good, can't he?

He hums to himself, a melody he has hazy memories of his mother singing. The words are lost to him now, taken from him by time, but he recalls the melody, at least.

Over and over, he hums, his fingers brushing over brick and stone and cold hard suburbia, before eventually his fingers run over trees and leaves and life itself.

He never did like cities much.

Remmick hums into the dimming light of the night, with no expectations of a response, an answer, of divine intervention.

He gets one anyway.

A little miracle in its own right.

"-the blooming heather, will ye go, lassie, go?"

His blood ignites in his veins just as brightly and fiery as it had the day he'd been turned into this.

If he had a pulse, he is sure it would be racing in his cold dead chest. If he could blush, he's sure the tips of his ears would be a burning red.

Your voice creeps through the trees like that of a fine mist, and it settles over him like dew on grass during a summer's morning. Refreshing, soothing, anchoring.

When was the last time he had felt anchored?

Voices, he's found, have a way of carrying stories, of harbouring emotions in a way that sometimes merely speaking doesn't even begin to encompass.

Sadness, anger, love, lust, loss-

It all sounded beautiful, in song.

Your voice reaches out like that of a beautiful plant, wraps around his soul like vines in the forest, takes root upon his very being like that of the strongest of trees.

Nature personified.

His pace quickens, the damp grass and dirt cliging to his bare feet, his hair sticking to his forehead.

He only wishes he was more presentable for you. Remmick is far from vain, but he's certain he's about to waltz into the den of perfection, an alter of beauty that would put Aphrodite herself to shame.

And he finds it.

Your back is to him, your hair is down loose around your shoulders. Your blouse is a few sizes too big and clings to your shoulders, your waist cinched by your skirt. You sway softly, like that of a flower in the breeze. Your fingers move effortlessly over the strings of your guitar, your voice having lowered to that of an airy hum.

He damn near almost collapses at the sight before him. Of such beauty here before him, untouched by the world outside of this forest. He's not a religious man, hasn't been in centuries, but Remmick is struck by the urge to collapse by your feet and cling to your skirts as if you were a Saint of utmost divinity, one he would swear his life and soul to.

Such natural, effortless beauty, and he hasn't even seen your face yet. Persephone can weep for all he cares.

A branch snaps beneath his feet, and your hair whips your face as you whirl around to face him.

Oh.

Oh.

Remmick staggers back a step, unusual for someone with supernatural grace on their side.

You're more radiant than a sunrise on a winter's day, more beautiful than poetry itself.

He could weep in your presence.

"Can I help you, sir?" you ask, pausing your guitar strumming and setting the instrument aside, leaning it against the tree beside you.

Your accent isn't from here. Scottish, the highlands, he thinks. He smiles at the sound, at the knowledge that he won't have to use that goddamn ridiculous Yank accent that helps him blend in.

"Aye, lass'," he nods, hands in his pockets as he steps closer. You watch him with a furrowed brow, with complete and utter confusion across your radiant face.

He stops short of you, leaning back against a tree, crossing his legs at the ankles as he studies you.

His eyes...

You straighten a hairs breadth, the same way one does when they spy a wolf in the distance, when you know a predator is watching you.

Remmick merely hums, unbothered at your reaction, even as his eyes gleam unnaturally in the darkness of the night.

"You can help me somethin' fierce, darlin'."

You smile, a touch uncertainly, your head cocked as you patiently wait for him to explain whatever it is he needs help with.

Remmick can only smile.

[missadangel]

⊱AMOR MEUS AETERNUS⊰ I Masterlist

(Marcus Acacius x Ofc)

little preview is under the information!!

Summary:  You are an assistant to a costume designer on a busy movie set, where the pressure is high and the work is exhausting. One difficult evening during a lunar eclipse, you suddenly spot a man in a Roman military outfit materializing out of nowhere. At first, you think he’s just a drunk or a bit off his rocker. Unbeknownst to you, he is General Marcus Justus Acacius, who has time-traveled from 205 AD to 2025. authors note: It's a bit of a romantic-comedy-drama stuff because Marcus doesn't know that he traveled to 2025, LMAO poor baby (and you know I'm a hopeless romantic). I'll explain in more detail in chapters why he ended up here and what led him to meet the reader, but I'm avoiding spoilers. And the reader will help him get back to his time but accidentally travel to ancient Rome because of something; i can't talk more, lol. Wait for the episodes, please thank youuuu. if you wanna be tagged lemme know! every chapter will be its own warning and music theme Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Reader (Her name is Rose and her hair is dyed) Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI, Smut Warnings: Harsh, cold, grumpy Marcus, and the reader is NOT innocent a little bitchy, Lucilla is mean, Lucius is a jerk(but falls in love with reader), its Septimius Severus' era but Geta and Caracalla are the prince of Rome, time travel, modern-ancient era travels, falling in love, slow burn, rough sex, smut, sex, oral sex (both f&m receiving), all sex, dirty talk, gladiators, battle, war, violence, blood, ancient time language, fluffy, injury, forced marriage, arranged marriage, sexism, haters to lovers, first love, angst, vestal virgins, vestal priestesses, age gap; reader is 25 Marcus is 45, reincarnation my masterlist

Little preview from chapter 1....

-------This wasn’t the first time you’d encountered someone like him. He had to be one of those extras, probably underpaid and known for causing trouble on set. He likely hadn’t bothered to change out of his costume and was relishing his small role in this odd setting.

“Look, man, I don’t want any trouble, but I really need you to take off that costume. I’m responsible for the outfits, and if anything happens to it, it’ll come out of my pay, okay? Didn’t anyone give you a heads-up about this?” You stepped closer, but he just froze like a statue, clearly sizing you up. 

Taking another look, you noticed the armor under his robe was totally different from anything you’d ever seen. Were they filming something new without you? That couldn’t be right—or worse, what if he’d swiped it? Great. You reached out for a closer look, but before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, spun you around, and shoved you away like it was nothing.

“Aaaah!” You winced, clutching your sore wrist, glaring at him in frustration. “Are you out of your mind? Get those clothes off right now! Can’t you hear me? Are you deaf or what?” 

The guy sighed as he wiped his sword with the hem of his robe and sheathed it as if he were doing it every day. He did it with such flair that even a top-notch actor would be impressed.  

“I see you’ve been really getting into character. Nice job!” you quipped with a hint of sarcasm. “But like I said, I need to grab the costume. So, come on, take it off.”  

"What kind of shameless woman are you to demand that I undress?"

What the hell was that? The accent, thick and unfamiliar, rolled off his tongue in a way you had never encountered before. It felt like a whisper from another age, as if echoes of ancient times were woven into each word he spoke.--------

ao3 link

I. Sol Invictus

II. Tensio

III. Amor Primus

IV. Matrimonium

V. Confessio

VI. coming soon

[fonulyn]

since I've seen it talked about in several places recently:

if you are going to do a whump- or kink- or ANY-tober or other similar challenges please please please don't post them as one fic with 31 chapters unless it actually is one coherent fic. if they're 31 completely separate fics or ficlets then please just make a collection for them or just post them as separate fics. it doesn't matter if they're only 100 words or if you think they're too small or insignificant to post alone, they're not.

and why this?

because if you post all 31 of them in one fic the tagging is absolutely useless. if I look for things to read on ao3 I'm gonna look at the tags, and if the tags include something that's a dealbreaker for me, i won't even click on the fic. I might not even SEE the fic because I've filtered out the nope-tag! so I'm gonna lose out on reading 30 perfectly nice fics because of one fic that my nope-tag applied to.

ao3 is about archiving. it's about clear tagging and being informative. there is nothing informative about it if the tags in the fic apply to random chapters while others have nothing to do with it. it makes so much more sense to have each work as an individual fic with its own individual tags and warnings, so readers can make informed choices.

of course, you do you. I can't police what other people decide to do. but personally, I find it incredibly frustrating to weed through 31 chapters to find the ones I actually want to read. so I don't. I automatically scroll past all works posted like that. and I know some others do, too.

there is absolutely no shame in posting short things on ao3. there is no minimum word count. no one is going to look at you funny if you post a small ficlet on its own, I promise. it's just going to make some readers very happy when they can actually find the things they want to read.

so, please. at least consider the upsides of posting each work as their own fic.

signed, one very frustrated fandom grandma.