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#shitting screaming sobbing pulling my hair out
thatwritterbeach · 12 hours
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One messed up bat pt.1
Dc masterlist all other parts found here
Batfam x femreader Jason x reader eventually
Warnings: angst, self harm, self hate, depression,
Summary:Y/n gets cough self harming by Damian, and Tim calls in some backup
A/N: I do not own dc booohooo ooc Tim, I don't spend much time watching/reading his robin sorry **^ so I can't remember if it's canon or from a fic but at this point who cares the storyline is all fucked so in this story I'm saying that Jason tried to call dick for help with his mom but dick was asleep/didn't pick up so Jay went alone and died, now Dick CAN NOT miss a phone call it sends him into a panic attack, thank you for coming to my trauma talk
ok so we all know the timeline is shit so this is the ages for this story only found it on a reddit post, fight me at dawn if you don't like it
Bruce Wayne (Batman) at 45
Barbara Gordon (Oracle) at 27
Dick Grayson (Nightwing) at 25
Jason Todd (Red Hood) at 22
Tim Drake (Red Robin) at 18
Damian Wayne (Robin) at 11
Y/n 21
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not my gif^
(2 weeks ago)
"Y/n, you can't keep acting like a child you're twenty-one," Dick whisper shouted in the corner of the batcave.
"Dick, I'm not going to apologize for helping people-"
"You disobeyed a direct order. You could have been hurt, you can't be that kind of influence to Tim and Damian."
"You don't even live here, Dick, you can't just-"
"You're benched until further notice."
"You can't-"
"Benched," Bruce confirmed stepping over to them.
(1 week ago)
"Hey, Dick, do you have a sec," she asked into the phone then immediately bit firmly into her hand to hold back a sob.
"You're still benched," he said without remorse.
"That's not-you know what never mind." She hung up on him and threw the phone onto her bed heading to her en-suite bathroom to release the itch.
(present)
"Beloved! Beloved, look I-," Damian shouted with glee but cut himself off with a scream when he opened her unlocked bathroom door. He thought she was doing her face masks not...in the bathtub with blood dripping from her arms into pink bubble filled water.
"Damian wait," she called after his retreating form. Shit, shit. She hurried to drain the water and throw on her over sized t-shirt just managing to pull some boxers on when Damian burst back in with Tim, practically dragging him into the space.
"Damian what's the problem-"
"Fix her," he shouted with haste and was about to shove Tim into the room when he noticed y/n standing there looking fine.
"Damian, I'm ok, I promise," she tried to convince him softly. He looked from her to the tub, not even a drop of evidence in sight.
"No, you-I saw the blood. Tim she cut herself I saw it," he told the older boy trying to lunge for her arm but she side stepped him.
"Damian, give us a minute," Tim tried to gently shoo him away. Damian shook his head aggressively and latched himself onto her side, clinging to her like a koala. She combed her fingers through his hair and gently detangled him.
"Dami, Tim and I just need to have a quick chat, he's gonna fix me right up, aren't you, Tim," she asked, sending him a look that clearly gave direction.
"Yeah, kid, I'll take care of her, she'll be right as rain."
"You won't hurt yourself again?" He was giving her puppy eyes, looking his own age for once and it pulled on her heart strings.
"I won't," she agreed patting him on the head and crossing her fingers behind her back with the other hand. Damian gave her one last hug then hurried out of the room. There was an awkward silence as Tim stood blocking the doorway, his jaw ticking and toe nearly tapping.
"You know I have to tell."
"Please don't." She shook her head then grabbed the first aid kit beneath the sink.
"Let me," he said softly, taking it from her and getting out the supplies. When she set her arm on the counter for him to work he sucked in a breath. "Those are deep," he accused.
"I wasn't trying anything. I'm not stupid, just a heavy bleeder." She rolled her eyes where he couldn't see and hissed when he dumped alcohol on her arm.
"They almost need stitches."
"Butterfly stickers are fine," she said digging them out of the kit one handed.
"I at least have to tell Dick-"
"NO," she said so firm he actually stepped back to look at her.
"I have to tell someone, I can't watch you 24/7."
"I don't need babysat," she seethed.
"I can tell Bruce or I can tell Dick first. Either way you aren't doing this alone."
"I cant stop you?"
"Not a chance."
"Dick told me I needed to be a better influence for you. Sorry for fucking that up, but to be fair there's worse things about me. I tried to call him a week ago, I was feeling the um...the 'itch' so to speak but as soon as he picked up he told me I was still benched. I was so pissed that he immediately thought that's what I called for I told him never mind and hung up. You can't tell him that, after Jason you know he-"
"Hates missing phone calls," Tim finished for her. **^
Tim had every intention of telling him, he knew it would hurt but come on, she tried to get help. Of course she didn't ask anyone in the house, but he wasn't about to be offended she didn't ask the child or his newly adult self for help, and he sure as hell got the not wanting to tell Bruce.
"Why not Alfred?"
"Hmm?"
"Why didn't you go to Alfred for help."
"He deals with enough shit from the rest of you, coming in half dead each night."
"That doesn't mean you come second, and sure as hell not last, we love you."
"Yeah, well it doesn't feel like it most of the time." He was finished with her arm and she resisted the urge to yank it away from him. One of Jason's flannel was on a towel hook on the wall and she quickly put it on to hide the bandages.
"I'm gonna go make sure Dami's ok," she said gently moving him out of the way. The second she was gone he hurried back to his room for his phone, that he'd left on the charger and yanked the cord out. He hit speed dial 3, Dick's cell, and held the phone to his ear while he headed out on his balcony to totally not scale down the wall instead of taking the stairs. Dick picked up on the 4th ring with a tired sigh and a 'this better be good' Tim told him to wait a sec while he got way out of hearing range.
"Did Y/n call you last week?"
"Uh, yeah, why?"
"Did you jump her case and not give her a second to speak?"
"You sound a bit pissed timbers, cut to it and tell me what I did. I haven't slept in 37 and a half hours."
"And you call me an idiot," he snorted.
"Tick tock bro," Dick mumbled head already sinking into his pillow.
"She'd been cutting herself and she called you to ask for help, well, she didn't say that word, but she was calling to tell you what she'd been doing to herself," Tim stated with little to no remorse for the heart attack he'd just given his brother.
"She what," Dick shouted throwing off the blankets and grabbing his go bag.
"I assume you'll catch the next train?" The sound of Dick falling and cursing while he hopped into pants could be heard and Tim nodded and hung up. Thankfully because the author said so Dick had switched from his police job to a remote roll in Wayne industries he just stayed in Bludhaven to have his independence and not deal with Bruce more than he had to. Alfred insisted he come for monthly dinners and he did.
Tim went back inside to hunt for Y/n and Damian and found them having mugs of hot chocolate together on the kitchen counter.
"So, you're ok," Damian asked in a small voice using a stir stick to hold his marshmallows under the liquid.
"I told you, Tim fixed me, and he probably ran off to call Dick so he could come make double sure I'm ok. You don't need to worry, I promise I'll always be here to have hot cocoa with," she replied, crossing her heart and holding out her pinkie to him. He hooks his with hers and to her surprise continued to hold on, not moving to actually hold her hand but simply letting their hands rest on the counter pinkies linked. Not wanting to interrupt Tim quietly made his way back out, he still had some calls to make.
Jason picked didn't pick up on the first call, or the second but finally on the third he answered out of breath and with gunshots loud in the foreground.
"The hell dya' want," he all but shouted into the line dodging hits and getting in several of his own.
"Sorry, I'll call back later-"
"No, talk now, I got it under *way too loud thud* control."
"Just uh, get here as quick as you can, nobodies dying so-"
"Make it quick but don't freak, got it." And he hung up. Next was Bruce who surprise surprise didn't answer a call or text, so Tim left a message.
"Get off Selena and come help your kid," he said with more aggression than snark. (this doesn't feel at all like something Tim would say but i'm not familiar enough with his character to fix it)
This time when he went to the kitchen it was just Y/n on the counter Damian had gone who knows where.
"So who all did you tell?"
"Just Dick so far, he's on his way. Jason was in the middle of a fight so he's coming later but I didn't tell him and Bruce didn't pick up-"
"Shocker, dude nabs all these kids then can't be bothered to spend time with them outside of a Halloween costume," she scoffed rolling her eyes.
"You're not wrong but-"
"Oh, don't start Stan." She waved him off hopping down to wash the mugs not willing to leave them for Alfred.
9-20-24
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sylvies-chen · 2 years
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in case anyone needs a good cry tonight, just know: the hawkami “I love you”s that were exchanged in 11x03 were UNSCRIPTED. jimmy and hanako IMPROVISED.
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sugume · 8 months
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SNAPING AT THEIR KIDS — Jujutsu Kaisen
( CW ) f!reader, children, tantrums, lots of tears  
FEATURING: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo 
Authors note: the way Choso’s son refuses to eat dinner when you all sit down, he just huffs and puffs and you eventually have to give in and buy him Taco Bell, so he doesn’t go to sleep on an empty stomach. And Gojo’s son knew what he was doing when he hit him hehe. 
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☾GOJO SATORU 
“Daddy, I wanna go to the park.” His twins yell for what feels like the thousandth time today. Satoru whines, throwing his arm over his eyes when one of the twins points flashlights in his face. “I said no, Daddy doesn’t feel well today—we can play in your room, how about we build a fort?” Satoru answers again—just like he did the last time and the time before and the time before that. “No Daddy! Wanna go to ‘park!” His girl screams before his son hits him square in the dick with the flashlight. He jumps up, howling in pain. “I said not today!” He snaps and instantly regrets it when he hears the venom in his voice. How holds his throbbing dick before looking up and his babies. They both stare at him with frowns. His little girl looks about ready to start sobbing and his son looks like he wants to hit him with the flashlight again. “Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell,” He apologizes, flinching back when little tears slip out their eyes. “I’m sorry, I'm sorry, don’t cry. How ‘bout we go to the park okay? Daddy didn’t mean to yell, oh don’t cry, baby.” He whispers, reaching out with big hands to grab them and pull them into his lap. “Park?” “Yep, park.” They look at each other before breaking out in a scream. 
☾GETO SUGURU 
“Daddy?” His daughter pulls the end of his long hair. “I'm busy, baby.” He answers as he scrolls through his emails on his work computer. “Wanna see.” She whines, trying to climb onto her father’s lap. She just slides off, unable to pull her body weight up with small arms. “In a little bit, go play with Mommy baby,” he says, trying to convince his daughter who just huffs and holds her arms up to him. “I wanna work too!” She whines and Suguru grumbles before lifting her onto his lap. He sets her in the nook of her arm. She snuggles into Suguru's content for a few minutes. “My turn Daddy.” She stands up on his lap and reaches over to touch the computer. She fails, instead pushing the cup of water he had been slipping on. The cup tilts over and pours all over Suguru’s computer. “Dammit D/n!” He growls out and though he doesn't yell his deep voice is enough to cause his daughter to jump in fear. “Sorry, ’m sorry.” She cries, trying to crawl out of her father's lap. “Shit--It’s alright baby. Hey, it’s okay sweet girl.” “I didn’t mean to.” “I know. Let’s clean up our mess, okay?” He kisses his daughter's forehead and carries her to grab a towel. 
☾CHOSO KAMO 
“I don’t want your ugly food.” His son screams at him. “Well, you aren’t getting Fast food.” He mutters. “I want Taco Bell!” He screams, but Choso just ignores him and continues to stir the food. “I said I want Taco Bell!” He throws himself on the floor, kicking and rolling around Choso’s legs. Choso tries to ignore the temper tantrum his son is throwing but after several minutes it starts to get unbearable. Anything he says just goes in one ear and out the other. “No Fast food!” He eventually snaps. S/n immediately stops rolling on the floor when he hears his father yell. Choso turns the stove on low before walking over and crouching in front of his son. “Daddy doesn’t wanna yell baby, but you gotta understand that you can’t get Fast food every day. It’s not healthy for you alright?” He explains to his son. His son just glares up at him. Choso smiles back which prompts the little boy to grumble how stupid and ugly his father looks. When they eventually come to an understanding, he picks him up and lets him help him cook.  
☾NANAMI KENTO 
Nanami’s loud voice echoes through the living room, and you race to the living room in worry. Once you turn the corner you see your daughter looking at him with wide tear-filled eyes. She’s never seen this side of her dad; you can’t think of one time her dad raised his voice at her. “Kento? What’s going on?” You glare at him as your daughter comes running into you. You hold her little body to you. Kento stands there with a shocked expression on his face. He didn’t mean to snap at his little girl, he just had a bad day at the office and brought that attitude home. “Daddy’s mean.” Your daughter cries out, wrapping her small arms tighter around your legs. “Princess,” Kento whispers as he cautiously walks towards you two. “I didn’t mean to yell at you princess, I’m so sorry.” He chokes out, crouching down to her level. When she hears the familiar softness in her dad’s voice, she slowly peaks around you. Kento holds his arms open. She doesn’t hesitate and jumps into her father's arms. “s’ok I forgive you, Daddy.” She sniffles into his neck. Nanami squeezes her tightly, whispering out apologies on how he’ll never do it again. You can tell by the look in his eyes your daughter will be getting extra spoiled in the next few days.  
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steviewashere · 17 days
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Robin shaves her legs once and makes Steve feel them. This in turn convinces Steve to try shaving his legs (ignoring that he was swim captain or whatever—I don't care).
Eddie comes back to their apartment to see Steve bent over, ass naked in the bathroom shaving all of his everything—pubes, legs, chest. He literally falls to his knees and sobs so hard he almost throws up. Got snot coming out of his nose, spit down his chin, hands clutched to his chest. Almost screaming.
He fucking pets Steve's chest, digs his fingernails into the bare skin of Steve's legs, cradles Steve's naked balls and is like: "I'm sorry for what that monster did to you."
And Steve is all: "For the last time, babe, it'll grow back."
"Yeah, but I have to wait. What am I supposed to do in the meantime? Wh—What hair am I supposed to twirl between my fingers when you're still asleep in the morning and I miss you?"
"I have hair on the top of my head, y'know."
"Next thing I know, you're gonna shave that, too." And then he just leans in and kisses Steve's balls and keeps murmuring apologies.
Robin can hear them through her bedroom wall. The next morning, she pulls Steve aside and begs him to never shave again. "If I have to hear your fucking boyfriend bemoan the loss of his 'baby's ball hair', I'm going to machine wash and dry every single one of your prized cashmere sweaters. And then crease every toe of your sneakers. And then replace your weird full fat cow's milk with skim. Swear to god, Steve. Never make me hear that shit again."
Safe to say, Steve listens and appeases both of his soulmates.
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hysteria-things · 2 months
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CANNN YOU MAKE A CHRIS FIC LIKE THISSS
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ENEMIES WITH BENEFITS
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x fem!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the hatred you have for chris sturniolo is ungodly… well; until you guys are alone, at least.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, p in v, hair pulling, spanking, orgasm denial, dumbification, fingering, semi-public, stomach bulge, breeding, praising, low key toxic
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,475
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i kind of want to make an enemies with benefits chris universe… like not a series but some more fics in the same timeline/backstory does that make sense😪
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𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… you've hated since childhood.
"i hate you, chris." you whimper, wiggling in his gamer chair that you’ve been sitting in since you got here. “i hate you! i hate you!”
while repeating your hateful words, you tried your best to push his head away that was feasting on your insides. he doesn’t budge, his tongue flicking rapidly against your puffy cunt. legs draped over his shoulders, he eats you out so good that your toes curl. it’s like you’re the best meal he’s ever eaten, arousal coating your inner thighs and around his mouth. some even drip down his chin, the squelching sound turning you on even more.
blabbering out bits and pieces, you finally find words to let out a coherent sentence. “i-i wish i never met you. you— f-fuck.” slouching more into the seat, chris sucks on your clit, your eyes fluttering and mouth wide open with whines leaving it. you tug on his messy hair, letting out a cry when he sticks a pointer finger into your drenched hole to stretch you out more.
“i’m gonna cum!” you sob, a tear trickling down your cheek. he hums, intensifying the way he’s suckling at your swollen bud. shaking from the pure overwhelming sensation, your cum leaks beautifully onto his tongue.
“such a pretty pussy.” he whispers, collecting the sticky mess. “tastes so fucking good.”
all you do is sit there. panting with your eyes crossed, twitching when you try to get back to your senses, and nothing more.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆
𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… would pull your ponytail every chance he got.
FUCK FACE
you’re fucking irritating
i’m a big girl and you’re not the boss of me
i don’t even know why i do what i do with you
is that right?
yeah, asshole
fuck off
i never want to see or speak to you again
who do you think you’re talking to?
can’t be me because you weren’t talking shit when you were screaming on my dick last night😂
womp womp life’s tough
you ain’t all that anyway
i’m sick of your fucking attitude
get over it
you’re not going to do shit about it so🤷‍♀️
it’s like your scalp is on fire. the stinging makes you hiss, eyes shutting from the pleasurable pain. chris has you stiff under his weight, your ponytail wrapped tightly around his fist to keep your head in place. your ass is arched against his pelvis, meeting his brutal thrusts that are pounding into you with no mercy. his balls slap against your clit as your cheeks bounce back onto him.
guiding your head down, he gives you a smack on the ass. you moan and grip the pillow for dear life, your body pushing against the corner of your l-shaped couch. ironically you’re wearing one of his t-shirts, the hem being scrunched up at the small of your back.
your knuckles are white, feeling like you can rip the pillow in half at any second if you’re not careful. the couch bangs against the wall, and you thank god that both of your parents had work today.
“said i wasn’t going to do anything about it.” chris mocks with a chuckle. “now look at you. fucking stupid in the head.”
the tip of his cock hits that spot repeatedly inside you, causing a moan louder than the others to leave your lips. “oh, right there!” you scream, it being muffled before he starts to go impossibly faster. you try to crawl away from his grip, but instead, he grabs your chin to lift your upper body to where your head rests on his shoulder. at this angle, he thrusts upward into your pulsating pussy.
eyes rolling back, you bite your lip that’s wet from spit. “you need to cum? hm?” he coos, moving a piece of sweaty hair out of your face. you nod, unable to get words out.
he tuts before pulling out, making you gasp and fall forward. “that’s too bad. should’ve thought twice about that before picking up an attitude with me.”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆
𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… at family parties, you’d never liked to see.
different aromas of cookout food flood your nostrils, the plate in front of you still full. you fidget the steak with your fork, your other hand gripping the edge of the picnic table. you’ve been trying to avoid eye contact with everybody since you sat down. what you are looking at is what’s happening under the tablecloth.
chris’s fingers pump deliciously into your sopping pussy, knuckle deep and covered in your wetness. originally, you weren’t wearing panties under your dress — upon his request.
fighting every fiber in your body to not make it obvious, you lean your head on his shoulder and exhale. “looks like you two sorted out the childhood banter.” one of your relatives jokes, looking at you cuddled up in the crook of his neck.
he continues talking nonchalantly to the guests when all of a sudden his fingers curl. it makes you jolt, the boy adding his thumb to rub on your clit for more pressure. that alone took you by surprise. giving him pleading eyes, you started to tremble, and before you knew it juices smeared all over his digits.
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𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… you would scream at so loud that he'd have to cover your mouth when people were around.
patience runs thin with him, as you’re fully aware of. first, he snuck you in, and now he’s fucking you on his bedroom floor. matt and nick are home, having no idea what their brother is up to.
jesus. the way he’s fucking into you is different this time around. your legs wrap around his waist, and his thrusts are deep and hard. you engulf his dick perfectly, and he adores that.
covering your mouth with his hand, your sounds of pleasure are muffled, and you still seem to be too loud. your back is arched halfway off of the ground, his cock slamming into you at just the right spot. he removes his palm, taking your wrists and pinning them above your head. chris kisses you hungrily, your moans going down his throat. “shit.” he drags out, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “you’re so fucking pretty.”
whimpering loudly, he kisses you again to swallow it. “shush, baby. you have to be quiet. you don’t want matt and nick to know how much of a cock whore you are for me.”
“but you feel too good!” you whine, eyes crossing when your g-spot starts to get abused with his length. he buries his head in the crook of your neck, releasing your wrists from his grasp to grip the back of your hair instead, pulling you as close as possible to him. your body lifts off of the floor slightly.
clenching repeatedly around him, it makes his dick twitch. “fuck, do that again. atta girl.” letting out a choked moan, you feel ropes of cum paint your insides. that alone sends you over the edge, a ring of white smearing around his girth. you clasp your hand over your mouth to silence your scream.
although, he doesn’t stop. he lays you back flat on the wooden panels, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. your feet dangle beside his head, his throbbing cock still pumping deep inside you. you cry out his name before he shoves two fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, but most importantly to shut you up.
eyes scanning your body, he’s taken aback. there’s a bulge protruding in your abdomen each time his skin slaps against yours. your belly is swollen from his previous orgasm, his hips stuttering at the sight. it’s insanely hot to him.
face all fucked out, your brain starts to fog, stars overcoming your vision. “take my cock. just like that.” he says, glancing down at where you’re conjoined. you’re cumming once again without warning once he hits your cervix, too brain-dead to even realize what’s going on anymore. you slobber around his digits, moaning and whimpering around them.
“might have to fuck a baby in you.” he blurts out, groaning as his muscles tense. “stuff you full of me. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
nodding, even though at your state you don’t truly know what you’re nodding to, he pushes fully into you and stays put. his seed fills you for the second time now, and you can feel every drop on your insides.
with each string, he groans as he milks himself dry. he empties your mouth from his fingers and collapses next to you on the cold floor, his cum oozing beautifully out of your used sex.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆
𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… all this time had a crush on you… but you never have to know that.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @sturnlcvr @tpvmz @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws
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evie-sturns · 2 months
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mature - Matt sturniolo
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summary: where you and your boyfriend matt get into big fight, he knows how to make it up to you, even when you want nothing to do with him.
contains: mature!matt, angst, crying, yelling, fluff, arguing.
————————————🩵————————————
11:56pm
i lay spread across the couch in my pretty white pyjamas, a small bowl of pretzels lay next to me as i watch youtube videos on the tv.
suddenly my peace gets interrupted.
“are you slow? why do you keep making a fucking mess of my house?” matt speaks up, walking into the living room, his eyebrows scrunched.
“what?” i instantly reply quietly,
he walks over to me and lifts up the bowl next to me,
“all of your shit, all over the house, is it that hard for you to pick it up? or do you need me to do that for you aswell.”
his voice isn’t loud, not even mad, but everything that comes out of his mouth is bitchy.
“excuse me? are you forgetting who cleans when you’re filming?” i raise my voice, standing up off the couch to be face to face with him.
he lets out a scoff, “don’t do a good job at it, do you?”
“don’t talk to me like that! you’re starting arguments for no reason!” i glare into matt’s eyes,
“baby, i’m not arguing with you, just try do better for me.” his tone is passive aggressive,
“i’m arguing with you! you can’t speak to me like that!” i yell, pointing my finger in his chest.
“you’re just a bit useless around the house, that’s all.” he says, staring into my eyes.
“no- let me rephrase, you’re just useless in general.” he follows up, my heart thumps against my ribs.
my hand collides with his cheek, slapping him, my eyes instantly widen.
he grabs my wrist, yanking me towards him.
“touch me again see what happens.” he warns, squeezing my wrist in his large hands,
my eyes water,
matt never gets mad at me, he treats me like an actual princess, he’s never made me upset, or cry, never raised his voice at me.
“you’re such an asshole!” i scream at him,
“go! go to the spare room i don’t want to see you!” he shouts back, his voice booming through the room, which is now warm from the heat of the argument.
my heart sinks as he yells,
“go! fuck out of here!”
i pause for a moment, tears blurring my vision, threatening to fall.
i nod, grabbing my phone off the couch and silently walking out of the room.
matt just watches me, his breathing heavy.
tears instantly start flowing, painting my flushed cheeks with warm tears.
i let out a loud strangled sob before reaching the spare bedroom, i walk into the room and slam the door behind me.
“are you crying?” matt calls out, followed by quick footsteps up the hallway.
i flop down onto the bed, burying my face into the pillow as all my emotions pour out of me.
my whole body shakes with each attempt of a breath.
i grab my soft animal on the bed and hold it close to me, clutching it as i cry.
matt opens the door with a small huff, before walking over next to the bed.
he rubs my back soothingly, “cmon, roll over onto your back.” he says softly
i shake my head with a sniffle, my tears dampening the pillow as i sob into it.
“i hate you!” i cry,
“i know, i know you do.” he says, running his fingers across my back,
“you’re so mean.” i sniff, my voice muffled by the pillow.
“i know, i was really mean to you, wasn’t i? and i didn’t mean any of it, just a tiring day.” he sighs,
i nod, matt sits down on the bed beside me and plays with my hair,
“can you look at me please?” he asks, starting to braid my hair at the back.
i slowly lift my face out of the pillow, my eyes puffy and my whole face red.
“there she is, pretty girl.” he smiles, pulling me onto his lap so i straddle him.
i look at his face, the side of it has a small slap mark.
my bottom lips trembles, “i dont know why i slapped you, i’m- im sorry matt.”
he presses a finger to my lips, “shh, sh i deserved it.” he laughs.
“i feel guilty though.” i pout,
“can i tell you a secret?” he asks,
i nod, he whispers into my hair “you didn’t hit me that hard, i promise.”
i feel a small weight get lifted off my chest.
“now take a nice deep breath for me okay?”
i suck in a deep breath,
“good girl, can you give me another one?”
i take in another deep breath, blowing out air through my nose.
he wipes the stray tears away from my face,
“i didn’t mean to make you cry sweetheart, you know i hate seeing you this upset.” he says, looking into my eyes.
“it’s okay.” i sniff,
“i want to see you smile for me,” matt says, i give him a small smile before covering my face.
he pulls my hands away from my face with a small laugh,
“i can’t smile for you when you ask me to, it’s so awkward!” i giggle,
“it’s cute baby.” he grins, scooping me up in his arms and standing up off the bed.
he walks us out of the room, “now lets get you in the bath.”
i squeal as he runs us down the hallway, “you’re gonna drop me!!”
he throws me a couple inches in the air before catching me back in his arms, earning a loud scream from me, followed by loud laughs from him.
he walks into the bathroom, before setting me down on the toilet seat.
he turns on the bath before walking over to me, tugging my tank top off my head,
i feel his cold hands fiddle with the clasp of my bra,
“matt! i can do this myself.” i protest, he shakes his head.
“it’s my pleasure.” he grins, letting my bra fall off of me.
“you’re so stupid.” i laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly.
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littlechivalry · 2 months
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I love the idea of our Hawkins teens going to a showing of a Rocky Horror so much so please join me in this:
Eddie's driving. He's excited, loves that he gets to 'pop their cherry.' He pulls up to Harrington house expecting to see Steve and Robin posted up outside in full Brad and Janet regalia.
Eddie of course is dressed as Eddie and of course he thought about Frank but that might be too much. Steve is cool but is he cool? Eddie hopes but he's not an idiot.
Instead of proper Midwestern church clothes he finds Robin standing out front in a raggedy black suit, her hair greased down while Vicki (and yes Eddie had had his suspicions) is next to her dressed as a maid with her own bright red hair teased out to heaven.
"Riff Raff? Magenta? I didn't expect to see you two here."
Vicki laughs but Robin gives him a look that makes a shiver run up his back.
"So where's Steve? Decided to stay home?"
The last syllable barely leaves his lips when the door opens and - - -
LEGS. Fishnet stocking LEGS. Tap pants and a bustier and a shining tail coat and a top hat and a blinding grin and LEGS.
"Columbia?"
Steve laughs and dances down the steps and he's wearing tap shoes too? Eddie may not survive this.
Robin laughs at him but Vicki pats his shoulder in commiseration.
The drive to Indy is filled with jokes and conversation and music and Eddie is paying attention to the conversation. And he is paying attention to the road. But
LEGS
They get to the theater and get their props and their seats. A few songs in Steve begs off to go to the bathroom. Does Eddie watch him go? Of course. Can he actually see him very well in the darkened theater? No. But it's the principle of the thing.
Then the music starts up for the Time Warp and Eddie is on his feet along with everyone else in the theater. There are performers on stage dancing along with the movie, a long line of tuxedo clad strangers when suddenly a figure goes flying across the stage and Eddie can hear Robin and Vicki whooping but he is frozen.
It's Steve. Tapping. It's a perfect recreation of Columbia's dance routine and when the other boy finally comes to a stop, gasping, on a chair at the corner of the stage Eddie finds his voice screaming louder than he has at any concert he's ever been to.
A few minutes later Steve makes his way back to his seat and Robin lunges past Eddie to throw herself at him. Eddie can make out that she's talking but not what she's saying.
They make it through the rest of the show and it's amazing. Eddie's second favorite moment may be when Steve and Robin wrapped their arms around him during "Eddie" wailing out fake sobs.
They sing and shout themselves hoarse. The ride home is quiet but in the best possible way. Robin and Vicki are as good as sleeping in the back of the van and Steve is leaning against the window, humming along with the radio.
"Hey," Eddie says softly. "Where did you learn to dance like that?"
Steve smiles but it's barely a shadow of his usual smile and it fades fast. "When I was little my mom still gave half a shit about being seen as a good mother so she put me in dance classes. It didn't last too long. My dad didn't like it and after a while it became more important for her to be seen as a good wife so I was taken out and put into every sport."
Eddie doesn't say anything. Can't say anything.
"I really liked it though? I can't play music and I'm not much of a singer but I really like dancing. Robin had to put up with me practicing this almost constantly for the past few weeks. I thought she was gonna kill me."
"So you learned this for tonight?"
Steve turned to face Eddie and smiles. "I learned it for you, man. Thought you would get a kick out of it."
The small ember of Eddie's crush on Steve had initially been lit years ago in high school. He had banked it carefully, couldn't bear to let it go cold but too worried about losing Steve as a friend to let it flare bright.
"You learned it for me?" Eddie's stomach feels warm
"Yeah," Steve says, smiling. "Every Eddie needs a Columbia, right?"
Steve is laughing at him and that only makes Eddie feel warmer. Steve. His crush, Steve. Steve did this for him.
"Yeah," Eddie says. "Yeah, he does."
"Thought so," Steve says, turning back to the window.
Eddie drives them back to Hawkins in a silence full of potential.
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writingoddess1125 · 1 year
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The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you. Pt. 2
Due to popular demand I have a part two for you guys!
Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk xFemreader
Healthy Mix of Angst and Fluff
Support me on Ko-Fi
Part 1 <- -> Part 3
Buggy
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The crew was quick to follow orders, Cabaji grabbing you as others grabbed your sons. Dragging you from the restaurant you called a home and out onto the streets, screamed fill the air as the village was being ripped apart. Your boys crying out in fear as the crew harshly brought you onto the ship you once were apart of.
You yelped as you were thrown into Buggy's room. Your boys being tossed in as well, you quickly grabbed Dee and Bee and brought them to your chest. Running your hands through their hair as they sobbed against you, shaking like a leaf and terrified.
"Ssshh it's okay my loves it's okay" you whisper trying to soothe them, holding them tightly to try and ward away the bad dream. After a few hours they finally fell asleep, You carefully rolling up and placing them on Buggy's large bed. It wouldn't be best to let them sleep in your arms since they were fairly large and when asleep could kick and roll. You couldn't risk injury if you were going to escape with the twins.
You tucked them into the big stripped bed and sighed- Surrounded by more of this circus shit made them look way more like Buggy then you cared to admit. Smoothing Dee and Bee wild blue locks with your hand you sighed heavily. Trying to come up with a plan to escape- but the plotting was short lived as the bedroom door opened.
Buggy stared at you and then glanced at the boys as they slept soundly in his bed. He was holding a large tray and set it down on the side table, meeting your eyes as he picked up a fork and took a bite from each both and even a bite of the bread, before taking a seat clearly wanting to show it was safe to eat and feed the children. You looked at the food it was 3 healthy servings of pasta with fresh bread and 3 drinks, 2 milks and a ale. You looked at him in question but you didn't dare voice anything. Instead gently shaking the twins awake-
"Eh? Mom?..." Dee mumbled as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Dinner is here" You say calmly, holding a bowl out to Dee who gently took it in his tiny hands before waking up Bee with a bit more force and doing the same. Splitting the bread in half and giving each half to your sons to make sure they had full bellies.
You ate your own food, Watching as the twins hungrily ate there like they hadn't had a meal before, havjng to make sure they didnt mess up the nice bed. However you kept glancing back at Buggy, feeling his eyes on you.
He sat across the room stull, watching you closely as you wiped their faces clean with your dress and handing them their drinks and even taking your own ale and sipping it. You saw Bee wat hibg Buggy closely, the two staring at each other silently.
"What are you looking at Old Man?-" Bee snapped as he glared at Buggy. You snapping your finger quickly at him.
"Attitude-" You hissed in warning. However heard a shuffle to see Buggy snorting a laugh and turning away to giggle-
"Damn these really are my Kids- I was at least 90% sure before but now it's 100%!" He laughed, actually Wiping the tears from his face.
"Mom what is he talking about?" Dee questioned first, raising a brow at the Clown in their room.
"Yeah and whats with hi-" You smacked your hand over your sons mouth. Knowing that the following question would lead to a fight you didn't have the strength for.
"Boys this is your father... Buggy the Clown. He's a Pirate Captian"
"Our Dads a clown-" Bee deadpanned as his face looked at you in what can only be described as confused horror. You sighing mentally by this, as Dee stared at Buggy suspiciously.
"How do we know?-" Dee started, But Buggy pulled the hat from his head and bandana to show his blue locks that were identical to their.
"Our Dads a Clown!?" Bee said again this time
"I'm a porate clown-" Buggy shot back as he frowned at the boy. The two locking in gaze of equal stubbornness and attitude.
Dee started to say"Is that why you took us?" But was cut off gloriously by Bee"If you're our dad then you suck! Why did you grab mom by her hair and make her cry!" He proclaimed, Jumping up on the bed and pointing to Buggy angrily. You urging the boy to sit down, But Buggy's gaze softened.
"I apologize- I didn't see it was her or else I would have never raided you town. Instead just picked you three up to take with me" He admitted calmly. The seemed to take the wind from Bee's sails as he sat back down- You also surprised to hear Buggy apologize or be so vulnerable.
"I want to have you three here with me and be apart of my children's life" Buggy started as he stared at you- You started to protest but he held up a hand.
"60 Days, that's all I ask. If in 60 days you don't want me in their lives I'll drop you and the boys off at a Marine Base with some berry. Enough to be comforble for the rest of your lives"
It was a good deal- a damn good deal. It's not like you had a berry to your name or a place to return to. That and he genuinely seemed interested in the boys, you gave a defeated sigh.
"Alright... 60 days- then we will talk from there" Buggy smiled at hearing you agreeing to this. Excitement shining in his eyes as he jumped up from his seat.
"Perfect! You all rest here. I'll leave and bring some supplies for you all" Buggy said calmly as he stood up and quickly left, a grin plastered on his face as he left you.
You should have known that Buggy was planning something. For the next 3 days it was like he turned the ship into a child's dream. There was suddently a absurd about of toys, sweets, every game imaginable too seemed to have suddently appeared. Buggy all to happy to shower the twins in anything they asked for, played any game they wanted.
You inwardly sighed as you watched the twins start to warm up to Buggy, More like clinging to him. Bee seemingly the most interested in him while Dee seemed to just love sailing. Having to be coaxed down from the crows nest were he would hide all day. At the mess hall however is were they fit in the best- It was like Buggy had cloned himself the two perfect best friends, aka himself.
Dee had taken to keeping his hair up due to his time in the crows nest and also had become more confident- pushing his brother back whenever he messed with him a bit too much- As for Bee it was like Buggy 2.0- Loud, flashy and ready to find trouble. It had been only 3 days but so much had changed, Currently it being evening dinner time.
Sitting next to Buggy in the mess hall, who had made it a habit of keeping you close you glared as your son then Buggy who was just laugjing "Benny (Y/L/N) get your monkey ass here right now!" You yelled as you saw your son running down the tables of the mess hall. Singing a made of sea shanty that the rest of the freaks were actually drinking and singing along to.
"Let the boy have some fun (Y/N)! It's not like he's hurting anyone- Besides what's the worse that can happen! Stop with the snooty attitude" Buggy proclaimed with a laugh, you saw Dee get a mischievous look in his eye before slipping under the table. You give a sarcastic smile, knowing your twins all too well.
"Fine then, I won't be snooty for the next hour whatever they damage you gotta clean" You proposes with a smile. He laughed and nodded.
"Deal! Finally now we can have some fu-"
And like a symphony of madness all hell broke lose. Dee had popped put from under the table and grabbed Bee's foot nid step. The singing child falling into a massive bowl of mashed potatos which managed to spray everywhere- coating all the people at the table in potatos and the floor which made a few Crewmates who had been walking slip and slam into tables flinging more food and creating more mess paired with a hunk of cake landing right in Buggy's face. Wiping the frosting as he watched the two boys make a run from the mess hall cackling like two Imps.
"Boys!!" He yelled, trying to wipe more of the pink frosting from his face. You smiled and handed him a napkin.
"Have fun Captian!~" You said with a grin and patted his shoulder as Buggy sat there red faced and glaring at you half heartedly. As if taking your cue, you got up and left. Giggling as you hear Buggy snap at some crewmates to grab something to help clean the mess.
Deciding to take the time for yourself you went to the main deck. Leaning against the rails as you watched the dark waves of the ocean and the setting sun. You couldn't lie and say you didn't miss the ocean, or the time to yourself. You stood there watching as the sun set and plunged the ship into darkness, the lanterns of the ship turning on as well as the ship seemed to be sailing in darkness.
"Enjoying your free time?" A deep voice snapped you from your thoughts. Seeing Buggy walking towards you, his face washed of makeup and hair in a ponytail. Having clearly just bathed after getting the mess hall cleaned.
"Yeah, I forgot how nice it is being on this ship.. How are the boys?" Buggy smiled at hearing you enjoying yourself before shrugging.
"Got them washed up and put them to bed.....They seem to like me" He boated, seemingly proud he had formed such a strong bond.
"That they do" You reply. Watching as he put his hands in his pockets a bit awkwardly, that tough Captian Facade crumbling a bit under his own anxiety.
"(Y/N) Why did you leave?... Was it me? Were you ashamed of me or-" He started, the back of his hand brushing against his nose as the enxiety slammed into his chest.
"What?.. No that's not why I left Buggy- I was scared. How the hell was I suppose to go through pregnancy on a ship? Hell the labor?! That was 36 hours to give birth to both of them!" Buggy winced at the thought, you leaned against the railing and stared at him.
"It was the fact that I couldn't predict how you would react and no idea how to raise a baby here. So in a village with at least some stability seemed like the best option- Even if it ment having to do it alone"
You admit, Buggy messing with his gloved hands. Sadness bleeding through his gaze as he sighed.
"I suppose- I can see your point... but I would have put everything on hold if I knew-" Buggy admitted, before rubbing the back of his head a bit hesitantly.
"You know- We only got 60 days and I've been wanting to take a vacation. Drop off the crew maybe for a bit and I know this really nice island" Buggy said casually. Your eyebrows raising at hearing this- He wanted to stop pirating just for you and the twins?
"What?-" You started but he cut you off quickly. "I mean it would only be a little bit of course- unless something urged me to stay a bit longer. However I think being on the open ocean can be damaging for super long term- I mean the meals can cause scurvy and who knows what else" He quickly justified, even at this distance you could see his ears turning red. You couldn't help but giggle at this, which caught his attention quickly.
"I'd like that Buggy.. But I don't want to take you away from what you love" you say, Watching Buggy take a hesitant step towards you.
"Who knows... 60 days can quickly turn into eternity.. if you want it to.. and i lost what i loved once- Ill never let that happen again" He said locking eyes with you which made you smile brighter.
Shanks
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It had been 3 weeks since Shanks arrived- and it had been one journey, The man clearly loved to be a father. Willing to do anything for Vivian, her having the powerful pirate wrapped around her little finger and not even knowing it.
Shanks having let his crew take the time for essentially a vacation on his dime while ge stayed in your guestroom. Excited every morning to wake up and play with his daughter. He bought her so many toys, a chest full of pretty dresses, a giant stuffed monkey and a play wood sword since she had been so interest in his.
She had even taken to tying her favorite green ribbon on his sword since "It looks pretty" and he didn't have the will power to take it off. So for the most part, it had been complete and total bliss.
It was early morning when you heard some loud Noises coming from the kitchen area of your home- Getting up from bed and put on your robe and walked to see what all the noise was.
You stood in the kitchen with a raised eyebrow, the only word fitting this situation was- Hilarious. There sat Shanks, sat on the floor with his back leanes against the oven holding a old muffin. His eyes were covered in a thick layer of green glittery eyeshadow (from your makeup bag) hot red lipstick that was sneered on other parts of his face. Some bows randomly scattered in his red hair. His coat that usually covered his missing arm dropped over your daughter who was still in her baby blue tight gown and she was dragging behind her as she adding things to the spread on the floor. A bag of sugar, some water, a scattering of teabags and whatever had been in the fridge- including half eaten sandwiches and cupcakes which Shanks was currently chewing on.
"Starlight, I don't think there is anyway you can make the wate- I mean tea any sweeter" He said calmly, Watching Vi try to pour more sugar into her little China set with her chubby hands. Shanks cringing a bit at this as she poured him a cup and handed it to him.
"See! Now it's perfect!" She chimed and giggled loudly. He gave a smile as he set aside his muffin and sipped the tea, trying to suppress the cringe from the unholy amount of sugar that was mixed with water and a hint of a poor teabag.
"It's delicious Baby Girl- Fantastic" He choked out, working through a smile as he forced himself to take another sip. You couldn't help bit to laugh, which brought the attention of both Red Heads.
"Mommy!" Vivian chimed loudly running towards you still wearing Shank's cloak and you scooped her up carefully.
"I must say Shanks, you look fabulous" You said with a smile. Shanks Grinning up at you as he sat on the floor.
"I always thought I'd look good in green" He said, Gesturing to the sloppy eyeshadow. Rolling himself up to his feet as he smiled down at you.
"By the way are you ready for today?" You raised a brow-
"Oh boy what do you have planned?" Shanks only gave a wide smile before grabbing a box from the kitchen table and holding up a lovely yellow sundress for you and a similar one for Vivian.
"Fun day out!"
Shanks hadnt beem kidding about a fun day, staring with a lovely resturant on the island, sailing, having in a meadow and then time out at the park the sun started to set. Shanks held Vivian who was passed out against him, walking back to your home. The two of you talking about the time you two where together in the past.
"Thank you (Y/N).." He said softly, Smiling as he watched the sun set and the two of you walked up hill.
"For what?" He smiled brightly at you "Making me the happiest man in the world" You couldn't help but blush at hearing this. Looking away bashfully as you came up to your home, Seeing a man standing there a bit awkwardly.
"Yasopp! Glad you stopped by, This is (Y/N) and my darling daughter Vivian. She's asleep right now but I'm sure she'd love to meet ya"
Shank smiled brightly at seeing his fellow crewmate. However the look on Yasopp face said otherwise.
"Its lovely to meet you (Y/N)... but Captian- we have to talk.." He said softly, Shanks frowning at the tone he gave before gently passing Vivian to you.
"I'll be in a sec" He said, nodding you quickly head inside to get Vivian ready for bed. Yasopp and him talked outside, Shanks looked angry. Staring at the letter and running his hand through his hair clearly stressed. You finished cleaning Vivians face and got her in her PJs, tuckering her in for the night. In the hallway you could hear the should of bottles shifting, turning to see Shanks in the kitchen grabbing the bottle of whiskey you kept on the top shelf- his face twisted in anger as he plopped on the couch.
"You have to leave.. don't you-" You finally blurted out, watching him open the bottle with his teeth and take a sip. His eyes shiny with unshed tears, he nodded soberly as he took a hard swig of the drink.
"Shanks you can't finally meet her and just leave her life-" You stressed, anger bubbling in your chest as you stared at him. He sat slunched in the chair a swirling of different emotions in his eyes.
"They need my help.. and I can't risk it (Y/N).... I can't risk them finding out about you and Vi... they would kill you both" He whispered, shock slamming into you. Your eyes drifting to Vivian's room were she laid sleeping.
"...How long will you be gone" You whispered finally, sitting down on your sofa sadly.
"I don't know..." He whispered, defeat written on his face. Holding the bottle out to you, which you took and started to sip before passing it back.
"When do you leave?" Shanks took another heavy swig of the drink and held it out to you. "Tomorrow morning..." You nod at this- Taking another sip of the whiskey.
"...I-Is she going to hate me?" Shanks whispered, Looking up at were he knew Vi was. You shook your head "She doesn't have it in her heart to hate.." You said softly. He nodded at this and messed with the ribbon she tied on his sword, staring at it hard.
"I love her (Y/N).... so much it hurts.." His voice cracked. But he instead stood up, taking a heavy breath.
"I'm going to get some sleep... you should as well" He said softly, Turning and walking back to the guest room. Leaving you alone with the whiskey bottle, as you put it back in its rightful place. You could have sworn you heard hushed sobs... but left them be and went to cry in your own bed as well.
In the morning, the nice breakfast was made. Shanks feeding Vivian her oatmeal and letting her talk his ear off, you knew he needed this moment. Needed to have this with her. Once breakfast was finishes the three of you started the walk to the docks, Vivian holding Shanks hand as they talked about the pretty ocean.
Walking to the docks he saw the ship being loaded up, Vivian staring in awe at the massive vessel and giggled at the sight of all the men who stared at her and gave friendly waves. Shanks taking a deep breath to look at you both. Hurt shining in his eyes as he swallowed a hard lump in his throat. Kneeling down he looked at Vivian, his hand cupping her chubby cheek as he took a shaky breath holding back tears clearly. "Princess, I've got to go for a while.."
"But why?... you just got here?"
"I know baby girl- But, see there is this trouble maker- His name is Luffy. Think of him as your big brother, he needs my help.. And I don't want to put you and your Mommy in danger while I go get him. So I have to leave-"
He said, Biting his bottom lip for a second as he let a few tears roll down his cheek. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a solid gold coin- it was quite large and he carefully handed it to Vivian. Her little fingers holding the big coin and touching the detailed design thay decorated it, his Jolly Roger.
"But I promise I'll be back.. but until I do- you have to keep this with you. It's special, it will protect you from Pirates- And when I come back, and I promise I will. I'll trade you that coin for your ribbon back okay?"
He said softly, watching Vivian smile up at him at the promise.
"Okay Daddy.." She said softly before jumping and hugging around his neck. He held her tightly, wrapping his arm around her as if he didn't want to let go.
"Captian-" Yassop said softly, Shanks nodding and carefully standing up. Handing Vivian to you a bit reluctantly, Vivian own eyes starting to water. You held her close as tears rolled down your own cheeks. Shanks leaning in and kissing the tears on your face and one gingerly on your lips.
"I'll see you two again, I swear" He said softly, Stepping back as he followed after his crew. The crew somber like their Captian as he boarded, yelling out commands to set sail. Looking back as the ship began to leave the harbor, Waving at the two of you. Vivian waving back gently as tears rolled down her chubby cheeks clutching the coin close to her chest.
You and Vivian standing on the docks as you watched the ship sail and disapear over the horizon. You sniffles and wiped your eyes of the tears you didn't know had still been running down your cheeks.
Your daughter looking at you and wiping your tears, giving you a smile just like Shanks "Don't worry Mommy.. Daddy said he'd be back"
Mihawk
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You stood in your tiny kitchen, rubbing your temple as the days situation settled on your bones. Your son standing next to you chopping vegetables silently, Clearly ignoring the elephant in the room.
"Alucare- Do you want to-"
"No" He cut you off quickly, quickly cutting down on a carrot like it had wronged him. You sighed at this setting the kettle on the stove to start a pot of tea. Knowing damn well what was coming- right on cue there was a knock to the door.
Turning you went to let in the Warlord, he looked like a kicked puppy. Awkwardly standing there at your door with his hat removed, his eyes glancing up at you hesitantly.
"(Y/N)..." He said softly, surprising you that he had even remembered your name. He stepped to the side, inviting him into your home and guiding him to your dining room were he took a seat at the kitchen table.
You took a seat as well, Alucare not turning from preparing the vegetables. A awkward silence following the trio as there was only the sound of chopping.
"Mihawk.. It's been a while" You finally speak, the Warlord nodding in agreement. Silence falling over you two again.
"Oh for God's sake. Alucare sit down please, we are going to get this out" You said, Hearing the shuffle of your son moving from his spot and sitting next to you. You couldn't help but stare in awe- The two sitting across from each other made it seem like they were looking at some odd mirror, they looked almost identical except for the age and minor changes.
"Mihawk this is Alucare, your son. As we can clearly can see. Alucare this is your father Dracule Mihawk"
You introduce, swallowing thickly as the two continued to stare at each other. Silence falling again over you all, Mihawk sighed and rubbed his temple. Turning his eyes away from this odd sort of staring contest.
"Alucare.. That's a good name.. How old are you?" Mihawk asked, staring at his child for a moment before Alucare looked away.
"I'm 16..." He said softly, Mihawk nodding at this before his eyes landed on you.
"How come you didn't tell me- I would have been here, helped you. I have a home and more" He asked, his eyebrows betraying him in pure confusion and he frowned. You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck.
"I was scared- How would it look like if some random person claimed to have some famed Warlords child.." You mumbled, still embarrassed by the whole ordeal. "Besides it wasn't even until after are alleyway escapades that I understood who you were-"
"I see..." Mihawk sighed as he stared at Alucare again, who seemed to grow a bit uncomforble at the direction of this conversation.
"Alucare do you wish to ask something of your father?-" You encouraged. Wanting to create a olive branch between the two.
"What is there me to ask? It's not like it's a secret that we are related or his reputation. The only thing I would wonder is how you found out about us-" Alucare said a bit dismissively, you felt genuine surprise at this. He had never shown anyone disrespect before until now-
"There were rumors of you that traveled to a Marine Base I was at- how a child looked like the famed Mihawk... eyes and all" Mihawk clarified. Alucare only rolling his matching yellow eyes at this, standing up from his seat.
"I'll be dismissing myself. Thanks for the talk" He said calmly, walking out the back door and slamming it shut behind him. You sighed and looked to Mihawk
"Hes normally not like that, I don't know what to say" You admit. But the Warlord just stood up with a understanding nod.
"Hes angry... that I understood.. I'll return" He said before following out the back door as well.
Standing by the grove of trees next to the house Alucare let the cool blade of the knives brush over his fingers, sighing as he quickly released the blade at lightning speed at the carved target on the old tree hitting bulls eye. Alucare walking to retrieve the lone blade and repeat the process.
"Impressive shot-" The deep voice only belonging to Mihawk sounded behind the teen. Alucare glancing back at the man as he resumed his position and went back to throwing his blade.
"Thanks I suppose-" Alucare mumbled as he continued to task. Mihawk sighing softly as he glanced at the sky.
"What is the true reason you resent me- One that you don't wish to express with your mother around" He finally asked, staring at the sky. Alucare faltering in his movements for a moment, keeping the blade in his hands for a moment.
"If you had been anyone else she wouldn't have had to suffer so much-" He admitted, his eyes showing a deep sadness as he sighed "I saw the way they looked at her, despite her smiling and ignoring it.. how she acted as a human shield for me. Because we share blood- How she would sit on the bed after working day and night to put that home over our head... how tired she was and then emotionally carying the brunt of people looking at her in either pity, fear otlr disgust for my sake"
He admitted, throwing the blade once again watching the blade stick deeply into the tree the handle being the only thing that showed. Mihawk quietly listened and clenched his hands.
"I understand... if I had known I would have protected her... I would have protected you- Nothing I can say can make up for 16 years of hardship... but I do apologize" Mihawk said, bowing his head gently.
Alucare looked at him silently for a moment. Looking away for a moment and went to grab the blade.
"...How do you sharpen a blade-" Alucare asked, In his own way accepting Mihawk apology and extending a form of communication. Mihawk gave a hint of a smile on his lips as he stepped forward.
"I can show you-"
Tag List-
For all the people who requested Pt. 2
@lunanight1021 @lolavegas20 @cuteastrash @thatcharmingmushroom @marsilis @thesadvampire @amecchii @zaphira-san @matronofthevoid @mothmans-left-nipple
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2hightocare · 5 months
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DOWN BAD! 02
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Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.
Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader
Genre: friends to lovers. college au. slowburn!
Warnings: angst, drug use, profanity, explicit content, talks about abusive home, fighting, arguing, screaming, crying, flashbacks, oc and jk are nineteen (freshmen’s in uni) mentions of death, daddy/mommy issues.
a/n: GOSHHHHHHH! pray for my girl yn😓😓 she’s down bad and she fr ain’t getting up. Left you guys on a cliffhanger hehe. enjoy🤍🤍
01! playlist
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"What do you want?" He says, the smallest glint of amusement on his face has Jungkook's stomach recoiling.
"The regular," Jungkook found himself saying, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I don't have opioids. My supplier said there was a shortage—want to try some new shit?" Yoongi says as he balances his cigarette on his lips, looking into a cabin.
"You've tried snow before, right?" He looks up at Jungkook who stands there. "No, I told you l don't fuck with that shit," Jungkook shakes his head, putting his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans.
"It's on me, just try it," Yoongi hands Jungkook a small bag filled with white powder. "Just snort it and let it do its thing, boy," Yoongi chuckles as he watches Jungkook look down at the drug in his palm. "It won't kill you if that's what you're thinking," he continues, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling.
Jungkook's mind immediately goes to you as the words leave Yoongi's mouth.
“You’re going to kill yourself,” you scream, your hands pulling on your hair as Jungkook watches silently—his heart breaking as he sees the tear fall from your eye. Whatever he wants to say stays stuck in his throat.
“I’ll be fine,” Jungkook finds himself muttering, a loud scoff heard from you as you hold his face in your hands, making him look up at you. “Tell me what’s wrong, fuck! I’ll fix it, just tell me,” you cry out. Jungkook watches as your legs give out and you drop to the floor in front of him.
Jungkook feels his stomach drop, his heartbeat stops, and his mind goes blank. He wants to drop to his knees and beg you to not care and run away as far as you can from him, but the selfish part of him wants you to stay.
“Baby,” Jungkook slurs, the drugs in his system not letting him speak normally. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologizes again for the hundredth time in the past few days. Jungkook drops beside you, removing your hands from your face as another sob racks through your body. Your eyes red and puffy as tears continue to cascade down.
Jungkook knows nothing about love, but there’s you. The highlight of his days, the only reason he even wants to wake up in the morning.
He hates how he drags you along with him—in every bad decision he makes. Jungkook’s life hasn’t been easy; an abusive household isn’t something anybody wants, but he’s one of the unlucky ones who got it. He knows he’s a legal adult and can move out, but his feet stay glued inside that house because of her, his mom.
God. Jungkook has seen everything fucked up in the piece of shit he calls his house. The blows his mom would take from the man whose blood Jungkook carries. He wasn’t a father to him, that’s for sure. Screams and fighting are the only things his house is filled with. He never heard a bedtime story or got a good night hug. The hug was replaced by a hit on the cheek, jaw, face—or anywhere his dad could get his hands on.
Jungkook blames his dad for the way he is, and every time he looks at you, he imagines the what ifs. Jungkook has done everything he could do to push you away, but instead of leaving, you stayed. It’s scared the shit out of him.
He’s in love with you. Jungkook has never felt anything more in his life than his love for you—it’s almost pathetic how much you make him feel. If your love were a drug, Jungkook would do it every day, every hour, and every minute instead of all the shit he put in his system to forget.
Your love is pure and innocent—everything that Jungkook isn’t. Every time he looks at you, he’s afraid he will break you. He wishes you could realize how unfixable he is and leave—but instead, you’re on your knees begging for him to be better.
How badly did he want to be better; so he could be with you.
“Stop saying sorry and stop doing it, fuck,” you sob, your fist holding onto his hoodie—your knuckles turning white from fear that if you let him go, he’ll vanish.
“You’re better than this. I know you are,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, wetting his hoodie with your tears. “Please stop, you could die.” you beg desperately, like a child would.
“Shh,” he comforts, his hand rubbing your back as you sob into him, “I’m sorry.”
As Jungkook walked, the guilt inside him consumed him more and more. The hurt expression on your face after he disrespected you remained etched in his mind, feeling like someone was poking his heart with a needle with each step he took.
Similarly, the weight of the small bag in the pocket of his sweater sent a sense of panic through his body. He hadn’t planned on taking it, but the moment it was placed in his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to give it back. Instead, he bit his tongue and shoved it into his pocket.
His heart sank as an image flashed in his mind of what your reaction would be if you ever found out. With a shake of his head, he buried the thought deep within him before reaching the main door of his house.
Jungkook’s hand trembles as he holds onto the doorknob. He had nowhere else to go, it was either yours or this. He felt his throat close up as his mind went back to you, his heart screaming for you. To turn around and run back to you—like always, his safe space. The only place where he could let his guard down.
The aching sensation in his chest reminded him of the first time he told you about his dad. You were both seventeen—laying on the carpet of your room, staring up at the ceiling. The broken expression on your face after he confided in you made him feel worse than any hit he had ever taken.
“Did you seriously get into another fight?” you groaned as you examined his face, the purple and blue marks beginning to form twisting your stomach in knots. “Who was it this time?” you frowned, your hand reaching out to touch his bruised cheek.
“Didn’t fight anyone. I actually hit myself with the car door,” the lie flowed smoothly out of his mouth.
“A door?” You raised an eyebrow, not fully believing him. Jungkook had a tendency to throw the first punch after someone lightly touched him—he had more suspensions and run ins with the police than anyone could count. Every time you saw him, there was another bruise decorating his skin, always brushed off like it was no big deal.
“Who was it?” You tried again, your face turning to him.
Jungkook's eyes remained locked with the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “I can’t tell you,” he mumbled softly into the darkness.
“Why not? Is it a secret?” You quipped, scooting closer to his side—your finger tracing his features as he let out a deep breath. “It’s a really big secret,” he hushed, to which you only nodded eagerly.
“I can keep a secret,” you smiled, your heart beating fast in your chest as you noticed the proximity between you two. You raised a pinky into the air. “Pinky promise,” you bit your lip anxiously, watching him interlock his pinky with yours. “Okay, now tell me.”
“My dad,” he said, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“What?” You stuttered out, hoping you had heard him wrong.
“My dad, he's abusive,” he restated. The color drained from your face, and Jungkook saw it.
Sadness written all over your face. Words didn’t come out when you opened your mouth; instead, an ugly cry replaced the words.
“That’s why I can’t stand someone’s hands on me,” Jungkook says, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to escape the pain in his heart. It felt as if he was being kicked and thrown.
“Fuck.. I always touch you,” you bit your lip, trying to contain your sobs. “Your touch is the only touch that doesn’t repulse me, baby. So if you plan on not touching me, don’t,” Jungkook quickly interjected, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with his.
Jungkook loved your touch; your fingers on his skin felt like heaven. It almost confused him how much he looked forward to it—sometimes he found himself initiating it. You were the only exception with such privilege; anyone else who laid a finger on him sent a sense of nausea and shivers down his body.
“I didn’t know. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. Let me help you.. we can tell the police, he deserves to be in jail. Please,” you sobbed, placing your palm on his cheek.
“You think I don’t know he needs to go to jail? For all I know, he should be put on a electric chair,” Jungkook spat out, shoving your hand away from his face.
“And fuck. Yes, my mom knows. She fucking gets hit too,” he rambled, his chest heaving as he tried to look anywhere in your room that wasn’t you, and for the first time, you saw him break down.
As Jungkook crumbled down with a loud sob, his hands cover his face as his shoulders shake as he weeps, you wasted no time dropping to your knees and pulling him into you, whispering reassuring words in his ear.
"She doesn't leave," he cried. "I keep telling her he's going to kill her if she doesn't leave, but she stays." The cracks in his voice mirrored the cracks in your heart as you listened, feeling the weight of his pain, as the double meaning clicks in your head.
"And I can't leave. Who's going to protect her if I'm not there?" he sobbed quietly, his hands tightening around your waist. "I'm scared that if I leave for too long, I'll come back to a house with a dead body in it," he confessed, sending shivers down your spine.
"Baby," you cooed, tears streaming down your cheeks,
"we should tell the police. They'll help you. I promise."
But his response shattered your hopes.
"No," he croaked out, untangling himself from your embrace.
"Listen to me. If you even think about telling a policeman what I just told you, I swear to god yn, I will never fucking forgive you," Jungkook shook, his face contorted with pain and panic.
"I trust you enough to tell you, but I swear if you say anything about this to anyone, we're done. Whatever the fuck we have, it's done. I will never fucking forgive you."
Jungkook pushes the door open, and he’s met with silence. Without thinking twice, he rushes to his mom's room, slamming the door open to be met with her limp body on the bed.
His heart stops beating, and suddenly everything stops—his hand trembles as he makes his way to her. He nudges her once.
“Mom,” Jungkook calls, only to be met with silence.
“Mom,” he tries again. She stirs in her sleep.
“Jungkook?” She croaks, her voice hoarse as she peeks from her lying position. Jungkook's heart picks up again, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Mom, are you okay? What happened?” Jungkook asks, dropping beside her on the bed. His fingers move her dark hair off her face carefully, revealing a bruise on her cheek.
“He hit you again?” Jungkook lets out a growl, his fist tightening beside him.
“I made him mad. It’s not his fault,” she defends, almost automatically making Jungkook scoff. “Mom, that's not an excuse!” He grits his teeth.
“He isn’t a bad man, Jungkook. He's still your father,” she sighs, the look of tiredness clear on her face as she winces when she moves to her side. Jungkook watches dumbfounded.
“You know, you remind me of him,” she shakes out a laugh, the whole sentence feeling like a punch in the stomach for Jungkook. The more he tries to breathe, the more difficult it becomes. “He was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you—it’s like I’m seeing him. He is a good man underneath it all, Jungkook. You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” she continues, and every word feels like a hit in the gut.
“W-what do you mean.. I’m just like him?” Jungkook stutters, his throat drying up and the familiar feeling of tears picking up in his eyes have him clawing his nails into his palms.
“Do you think when I met your dad, he treated me wrong?” She finally locks eyes with Jungkook. The light in her eyes she once had is now gone, replaced with dull, tired eyes. “He was gentle with me, he was sweet, caring, he was everything to me. He’s still everything to me,” a tear rolls down her cheek, making Jungkook suck in a breath.
“What about me?” Jungkook's voice cracks, the knot in his throat tightening as he watches his mom shake her head.
“Am I not everything to you, Mom?” Another tear falls, followed by more.
“It’s more complicated than you think, Jungkook,” she sighs. Jungkook feels his heart crack into a million pieces as he watches the woman who brought him into this life discard him.
“He’s going to kill you one day,” Jungkook speaks, wiping the tears from his eyes before clearing his voice. “He’s going to kill you, and you’re going to let it happen.”
“He wouldn’t do that to me,” she whispers into the silence.
“He wouldn’t?” A shocked laugh leaves Jungkook's lips as he can’t believe what he just heard. “He fucking wouldn’t? He fucking hits you? Aren’t you fucking scared that one day he throws the wrong punch?” Jungkook shouts, anger taking over.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” she snaps. “I’m your mother, and you don’t get to fucking talk to me like that.”
“Well, you’re a shitty mother. A good mother would put their child first. The only reason I’m still here is because of you!” Jungkook snaps back, his frustration growing stronger as he watches his mom stay motionless.
“I keep coming back because I’m scared he’ll kill you. But apparently, you don’t give a fuck,” he breathes out, his hand tugging on his hair—feeling almost manic at the lack of his mother's reaction.
“Every hit he took on me, you blamed it on me. When all I did was try to protect you. But you always choose him. So fucking next time he comes in through those doors and has his way with you, don’t come running or yelling my name to come and save you,” Jungkook spits out before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.
Jungkook's mind kept racing, never shutting up for a moment, allowing him to think. His brain was filled with repetitions of everything his mom just said. The words "he was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you-it's like I'm seeing him" kept getting repeated in his head over and over again without a break.
Screams of his mom asking for him to save her echoed in his brain, the weight of his guilt and the haunting memories that plagued his mind had Jungkook pulling out the small baggie from his sweater, moving to the small desk in his room.
Jungkook dropped the white powder on the surface, making a line. Without hesitation, Jungkook leaned over, pinching one of his nostrils before snorting.
A sharp burning, stinging sensation spread through Jungkook's nose as he sniffed, rubbing off the remaining powder.
Jungkook dropped onto his bed in a star position as he stared at the ceiling, the feeling of numbness taking over his body. His muscles relaxed as the drug entered his bloodstream, sending a sense of euphoria—a warm feeling spread throughout his body, making him groan in pleasure.
And for once, the voices finally stopped.
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It was embarrassing how you found yourself looking for the man you were in love with every corner of the campus. You started with the lockers and hallways, peeking through every classroom, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the boy who left you standing in your angel costume Saturday night.
You had debated on running after him; the guilt that weighed you down from the slap was intense. Your touch was supposed to be his only gateway, instead, you used it against him to hurt him the same way his dad does. As messed up as his words were, it didn’t compare.
“Have you seen Jungkook?” You ask, poking Dahlia on the shoulder. She turns to look at you, mouth filled with food as she nods without saying anything.
“You have?” Your eyebrow raises as she continues to nod eagerly.
“Y-yeah, he’s ou-outside, in the corner,” Dahlia finally says, swallowing her food. You throw a small ‘thank you’ and rush outside.
As you run to the corner where everybody meets up to smoke, you curse out loud as you trip on the crack of the pavement before changing your pace to walking instead.
Your eyes meet his in an instant as you pass the corner, the lit-up joint hanging from his lips. You look around to see Taehyung and Jimin with worried looks on their faces. As you walk closer to them, Jungkook passes the joint to his friend before crossing his arms in front of him, flexing his muscles. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would find it hot.
“What’s up, pretty,” Taehyung says, trying to break the awkward silence as he takes a hit off the joint before passing it to Jimin, who looks uncomfortable as hell.
“Hey,” you acknowledge them both, giving polite head nods before turning your attention to the boy in the middle, his eyes bloodshot red with a small grin decorating his handsome face.
“What’s so funny?” You snap, crossing your arms in front of you. A loud laugh slips out of his mouth, shocking the boys beside him. “Hi baby,” he says, his eyes dropping low as he moves closer to you. You push him away with a hand on his chest, making him pout.
“Rude,” he playfully scoffs, leaning back onto the wall and reaching for the blunt on Taehyung’s fingers as he raises an eyebrow at you.
“That’s enough,” you say, taking away the joint from Taehyung’s hand as Jungkook was about to reach for it.
“This is our cue to leave. Let’s go,” Taehyung hurries off, pulling on his blonde friends arm, before they both mutter something under their breaths as they disappear around the corner.
“Don’t throw that, it’s some good shit, and I just bought it,” Jungkook chuckles, reaching for it only for you to push him away.
“Alright then,” you pull the rolled-up paper up to your lips and take a drag. Jungkook's face drops, and suddenly nothing is funny. His hand immediately shoots up and yanks the joint out of your mouth before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook roars, watching you cough loudly as white smoke rushes out of your mouth.
“Fuck, what were you thinking?” He panics, rubbing a hand over your back to coax your coughing fit. Your throat and chest burn as you continue to cough.
“Don’t ever do that shit again, do you hear me? It’s not good for you,” Jungkook sighs, his rough hand drawing circles down your back as you finally calm down.
“So, you agree it’s not good for you?” You say, your voice hoarse from all the coughing. “Let’s not do this right now, yn,” he pulls on your arm as he walks you to the parking lot. “You never want to do anything,” you yank your arm from his grip. Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying his best not to snap at you.
“Just get in the car, baby,” he continues, opening the passenger door for you. Instead, you push him off and slam the door shut.
“You’re high as fuck; you can’t drive, asshole,” you snap, throwing your arms in the air in anger. “And you’re not?” he clenches his teeth. “I took one hit,” you shove a finger in his face.
“Yeah, a big-ass one. Before you know it, you’ll be high, so get in the fucking car or I’ll put you in it myself,” he snaps. “You wouldn’t dare,” you spit out, and before you know it, your ass is in the air as he hauls you over his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t?” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he opens the car door and sits you down on the seat, reaching for the seatbelt and strapping you in. ��Where are you taking me?” You roll your eyes as he sits down beside you.
“To your fucking house,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot of the school and driving you home.
The whole car ride is filled with silence; neither of you decides to utter a word. The moment the car stops in front of your house, you hurriedly unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door before sprinting to your door, unlocking it, and disappearing inside. Jungkook almost screams into his hands, wanting to throw a whole tantrum in this car, but he decides otherwise.
With a loud sigh, he turns off the car, turns to the back seat, gets his sweater, and jumps out of the car. He takes the same route he always did when he showed up at your house, climbing himself over the picket fence before climbing the tree next to your window.
The window is opened as you sit on the ground of your room, your knees up to your chest. Jungkook throws his sweater in first before jumping in.
Then his heart dropped, your small hands hold the tiny bag that was in the pocket of his sweater that had fallen out.
“What’s this, Jungkook?” You voice out, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the wavering of your voice as you finally look up at him. His heart might just have been stabbed by your shocked expression, the betrayal and the pain etched in your expressions send a shooting pain in his heart.
“Baby-“
“Don’t fucking baby me! What the fuck is this?” You interrupt him, your hand shaking as you think of every possible drug that could be in the bag. Jungkook didn’t reply; the words suddenly died in his mouth.
“Is this a way of pushing me away?” You ask, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, mixing with your anger and heartbreak.
“Did something happen at home again? Why? Fuck, why?” You cry, a soul-crushing sob that comes out of you, which has Jungkook coming back to his senses. He feels like shit, and that word doesn’t even cover half of what he’s feeling.
“Please tell me why? I’ll do anything. Let me help you, just fucking stop doing this shit, baby.” You cry, pulling his body to yours, wrapping your arms around his waist, crying into his uniform.
“Use me, scream at me, tell me horrible shit if that helps. Just don’t ever touch any drugs, Jungkook. I don’t know what I would do if you died.” You whisper the last words as you sob into his arms, begging for him to stop. “I’m never leaving your side, so get that into your head. If this is your way of pushing me away, it won’t work.” You sob.
And that’s where everything clicks for Jungkook. His mind thinks back to his mom, “You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” and his heart drops to the ground. All the walls he took so long to build collapse. He was just like his dad—Jungkook wanted to say he wasn’t, but here he was, hurting you, making you sob into his arms, begging for him to change. The same thing his mom does anytime his father would get drunk.
“I’m not good for you,” Jungkook finally speaks, his hands cupping your face. “I’m not good for you.” He repeats, and you shake your head disapprovingly repeatedly. “Stop.” You cry, your tears wetting Jungkook's palms as he repeats the same thing over again.
“You deserve someone so much fucking better, baby,” Jungkook whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “You deserve so much better than me. I can’t give you anything, baby, besides heartache and pain.” He continues as you repeat ‘no’ over and over again under your breath.
“Please don’t leave me,” you cry, as he untangles himself from you, pushing your hand away gently when you try to reach for him.
“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t leave. Stay the night; we’ll talk about this in the morning.” That was the last thing Jungkook heard as he jumped out of the window and ran to his car, leaving his heart in the hands of the girl crying on the floor, praying for him to be safe.
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your-internet-bf · 4 months
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I have a bad habit of looking at other people's phones in public. Someday, I think I'll look at a cute girl's screen and see the sorta shit I like - bondage, rape, deep, strong fucking. You'd scroll past as quick as you can, of course, since it's embarrassing to be caught looking at that in public... But I'd know.
It's not hard to follow people, especially in a city. Nobody expects to be followed; you'd never even notice. Maybe you catch a glimpse of me through the corner of your eye, but it's just a coincidence that I've been behind you the past eight blocks, right? Right?
I've been camping outside your place, watching through the window. It wasn't hard, and you haven't noticed anything more than a shadow. But it's dark out now, and very late, and I climb up to your window to get a better view.
I see you reclined in your bed, rubbing and pounding as hard as you can, your brow furrowed and your lips open in a silent moan as you try to hide your, what, fourth orgasm of the night? I watch, every inch of my cock throbbing, aching, waiting for my turn.
You turn off your phone, close your eyes, and you - raw, red, exhausted you - try to sleep. I wait a few minutes just to be sure, feeling myself over my clothes, before trying your window. It's a rush when I find it unlocked - you are EXACTLY the kind of girl I thought you were. Silently, the window slides open, and I follow the cool night air into your bedroom.
You're prettier up close. I've been studying you for hours now, of course, but I hadn't noticed just how soft your skin was, or how smooth your curves... I pull down your covers, revealing that you didn't bother to put anything on after you came. Your slick, abused cunt is so inviting; every cell in my body is screaming at me to tear you open with my cock, to ruin you, to pound your cervix up into your tummy, but there's something I need to do first...
I take a quick moment to undress, quietly, the soft clink of my belt buckle being the only sound other than our breathing, already starting to mix in the darkness. Then all at once I pounce, pushing you onto your front, gripping your waist from behind, and ramming my cock dry into your ass.
It hurts. I want it to hurt.
You're scared. I want you to be scared.
Maybe you've been with a guy before, maybe you haven't, maybe you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or spouse right now; it doesn't matter to me. With my size, every hole feels tight, especially a victim.
I feel you writhe beneath me, trying to get away, but I won't let you. I take one of my hands off your waist and, balling up your hair in one fist, wrench your head back.
"You," I whisper, my breath hot on your cheek, "aren't going anywhere, pretty girl."
I push your face down into your bed and keep going, pounding, breaking, raping your ass. You feel my breath on you, my sweat on you, the smell of me overwhelming even as I'm intoxicated by yours. I yank your head back up and take a deep breath in at the back of your neck, moaning as I breathe out. As I pause, you raise your hips into me, whimpering, and I know you need me to keep going.
Because you need it, don't you? You need a big, strong man, smelling like sweat and power, to rape you, don't you? To completely make you mine, to turn you into a sobbing, soaking mess, to mold you around my filthy, throbbing cock. Say it now, say that you need it, that you're a needy slut, say it out loud...
So I continue. Taking the other hand back to your waist, I redouble my work, straining inside you. I reach down to slap your soaking pussy and rub your wetness on me, and keep going. In and out, in and out, in and out, my girth spreading your ass so wide, so painfully, you can barely think. But I know you need it, and I'm so close now.
My breath comes faster, catching in my throat, and you feel a hard thrust, then another, another, another, and finally, I ram into you so hard we both collapse into your bed... And you feel the thick, white cum shoot into you. Warm, heavy, sticky, it fills your insides as my cock pulses thick and strong inside you, my breath warm on your neck as I force you to cockwarm me.
I kiss your soft, pretty skin as you sob into your pillow. I grind into you as I do, and my cum leaks out, a slow stream rolling down from your ruined ass towards that gaping, aching cunt. After a minute, I pull out, and push you onto your back. You get a brief glimpse at my face through the tears - long, long eyelashes framing deep gray eyes - before I steal a kiss. Your tears make it salty, and you feel me smile, pressed up against your lips.
"You needed it, didn't you?" I ask, still grinning.
Weakly, you nod. "Mhmm..." You draw in another shaky breath.
"Good, good girl." I lean back and reach for my cock - I'm still hard. I still need you.
You know what you are now. You'd suspected it before, but now you know what you are, what you need, and so do I. You spread your legs for me, this time willingly, begging me to come make you mine...
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colormepurplex2 · 5 months
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Shatter With Me | Please, Let Me
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↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader ⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend’s Husband ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 28,134 ⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, BIG hurt feelings, accusations of infidelity, rejected/unwanted drunken kissing that could be viewed as dubious infidelity, lies/deceit about fertility, broken marriage, infidelity, talk of divorce/filing for divorce, legal separation, kissing, fingering, cunnilingus, mild dirty talk, mild begging, sex while pregnant, creampie
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You should be dreaming, but an incessant sound keeps pulling you back to the surface of consciousness. Rolling over, you check your phone to see what time it is—2 AM. It takes a moment, but you manage to blink away your sleepy fog and realize the noise is someone rapidly knocking on your door.
“Taehyung, what the hell are you doing here?”
Taehyung looks rumpled, his hair tousled and the soft skin beneath his eyes a deeper shade than usual. He sighs heavily and takes a step back from your doorway. “Because,” he says, throwing a hand out in a gesture towards the floor.
Stepping forward, awkward with the temporary boot on your foot, you lean out into the hall to look at what he’s pointing at. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?”
Jungkook is slumped against the wall, his legs sprawled out in front of him. It takes you only a second to realize his shoulders are jumping in quiet, hiccuping sobs.
“Can we come in?” Taehyung asks. “It’s a long story, and I’m tired as shit right now.”
“Well, sure, okay.”
Taehyung gratefully accepts your help, though you’re not sure how much good you do with a bum foot, getting Jungkook through the door. He flops limply on your couch when Taehyung slides his arm from around Jungkook’s waist.
“What the hell happened? Is he drunk?” you ask, recoiling at the stench of whiskey you catch wafting from Jungkook. “Why did you bring him here? Where’s Jiyoon—”
“No!” Taehyung gasps, flailing a hand through the air to cut you off. “Don’t say her name. Please, you’ll set him off again.”
“Too late,” Jungkook sobs from the couch, curling in on himself.
A tug on your shirtsleeve has you turning away from Jungkook. Taehyung jerks his head toward your kitchen and you follow him in there. Worry settles in your chest with the look on his face.
“It’s not good,” he whispers.
“What happened?”
Keeping his voice pitched low, Taehyung fills you in the best he can. “He knocked on my door a few hours ago, completely out of his mind. I was barely able to get him to stop screaming and crying long enough to tell me. And then he downed half my liquor cabinet in less than half an hour.” Taehyung pauses and you can tell he’s collecting himself before continuing, “Jiyoon told him that her baby isn’t his. She’s completely shattered him.”
A tightness grips your chest, your heart pounding hard. You shake your head. “No, no. That can’t be right. Jiyoon wouldn’t—she…she loves him.”
Taehyung scoffs, “She loves what he represents. Don’t pretend we both don’t know all she cared about when they met was that he was a hotshot model with a bright future full of dollar signs.”
“Taehyung, no. I’ve known Jiyoon for most of my life. We’ve been friends since we were kids. She wouldn’t do that.”
The pained way Taehyung says your name tugs at your heart. “I’m going to be honest here, and I need you to know what I say is coming from a place of care. Jiyoon isn’t a nice person. She’s not a good friend—especially not to you. Don’t,” he says when you open your mouth to protest. “I know you care about her, but from what Jungkook told me, she said some really nasty things, about him…and you.”
“Me?”
“She accused him of having an affair with you, that you slept together, and that’s how you got pregnant. That was how she eventually told him about her affair, that her baby wasn’t his. It’s a fucking mess…he’s a mess.”
You have to stifle your incredulous laughter. “You can’t be serious.”
Taehyung puts a hand on your shoulder and turns you to look at where Jungkook is still curled up on your couch, his face buried in one of your throw pillows, body steadily trembling. “I’m serious.”
His words settle like a heavy weight right over the center of your chest. That tightness that was there before increases until you feel like you can barely breathe. “I-I need to talk to Jiyoon. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, a mistake.”
You go to take a step toward the hallway to retrieve your cell phone from your bedroom but Taehyung’s hand tightening on your shoulder halts your movement. “Maybe it’s best to leave it for now. At least until he’s lucid again. I don’t mean to drop this on your lap, but he wouldn’t stop begging to come here…to come see you, see the baby.”
The baby that he knows is his. Taehyung doesn’t say that, but it echoes through your mind as if he’d shouted it. You’re not sure what to believe at this point. The only things you know for certain are your own actions. It would be easy to crumble right now, to let the weight of everything crush you. But the crying man on your sofa—the one who is not just your client nor your friend’s husband anymore, but who has managed to become someone far more significant in your life and not just because of the baby growing inside you—reinforces the steel in your spine. There will be time to deal with everything else later.
“Okay,” you say to Taehyung. “Thank you for bringing him.” 
After seeing Taehyung out and promising to call him if you need anything, you email Namjoon that you’ll be working on a client case from home tomorrow. For obvious reasons, you intentionally leave out that the client is Jungkook and that the case is one of a broken heart instead of an ad campaign.
You told Taehyung you wouldn't reach out to Jiyoon yet, but you are curious if she’s perhaps tried to reach out to you. The lack of messages waiting for you on your phone is another small crack in the fissures of your waning friendship with Jiyoon. What you didn’t tell Taehyung is that you’ve been feeling this way for a while. You know Jiyoon isn’t always a nice person. But she was still your friend, someone you had spent years of your life loving and being loved by in return. Or so you thought, at least.
With a sigh, you slowly approach the couch, kneeling down beside it. Jungkook stopped crying before Taehyung left, having fallen into a fitful drunken sleep. His body is still wracked with tremors, and his breathing wheezes from between his lips, sounding labored. You gently push his hair out of his face, feeling a pang of sadness at how blotchy and puffed his eyes are even when closed. A red mark mars the side of his jaw, subtle bruising in the distinct rounded curve of small, slender fingertips—she hit him.
“Mm,” Jungkook groans softly, your name rasping out with the sound.
“I’m here.”
His shoulders jump as the quiet sobbing returns. “I’m so sorry,” he chokes through the words. “Please don’t leave me, too!”
“Hey, hey, none of that. You have nothing to be sorry for. Come here,” you coo, helping him sit up so you can sit where his head was on the couch. You open your arms to accept him into an embrace so you can try to console him in some way.
Jungkook launches himself at you. You think it’s a mistake made in haste, his lips landing on yours. But with the gentle way he cups your face and begins to move his mouth in a sensual pluck over yours, you realize what’s happening—what you can’t allow to happen, not now.
“No—uh, no. This isn’t—” You pull back from him, managing to get a hand between your mouths. “Jungkook, no. We can’t do this. You’re hurting,” you say slowly, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his glassy ones. “You’re confused right now, and you’ve been drinking. This isn’t what you want. This isn’t you, no matter what anyone else says.”
Tears course down Jungkook’s cheeks and it breaks your heart to see him hurting like this. “Sorry—” he clears his throat “—yes, you’re right. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m such a fucking asshole. Jiyoon was right—”
“No. No, she’s not right, Jungkook. Whatever she told you, it’s not right. She’s not right,” you confirm again. “You’ve done nothing wrong. No matter what, know that.”
With a choking sob, he slumps forward into your arms, and you soothe him by running a hand over his hair. Resting back as best you can, you bring your legs up on the couch alongside Jungkook, being mindful of the small boot on your foot, and help him maneuver so he’s lying down beside you, head in your lap.
“What am I going to do?” Jungkook whispers into the silence that follows after a few tightly strung beats.
You try to sound reassuring, but you’re not sure you sound convincing even to your own ears, “It’s going to be okay, Jungkook. I promise we’ll get all of this figured out.”
Even if you’re not sure how you’ll accomplish that, you know you’ll do whatever you can to help Jungkook. This isn’t just his problem; it’s partly yours, too. After all, he’s the father of the child growing inside you and will be a part of your life even after the birth.
“Hi,” Jungkook whispers so softly that it takes you a moment to realize he spoke at all. “It’s me, your dad.” You can feel his lips brushing against your stomach through your nightshirt; he’s talking to the baby. “I love you so much already, and I swear I’ll never leave you…baby boy”
A boy.
You and Jungkook both cried happy tears at the hospital earlier after the tech swiveled the screen back around. It made everything feel that much more real. You vowed to bring life into this world for him and Jiyoon. Whether or not she’ll be in the picture further, you can’t let that color your actions moving forward with Jungkook. He still wants this baby—so do you—and that’s what matters.
Jungkook nuzzles against your hip and presses his face more fully against the side of the gentle swell of your belly. One of his arms wraps around the underside to rest on your opposite hip.
Sleep evades you long after Jungkook falls back into a less troubled slumber than before. Occasionally, he mutters under his breath and his hand flexes against your hip like he’s fighting invisible demons. You can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through, what his dreams are plagued with…all you can do is promise that no matter the darkness brewing, you’ll remain by his side for as long as he’ll let you.
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You can only afford yourself the one day off of work and Jungkook assures you that he is okay on his own. It’s still a little weird to have him staying at your place, but only because neither of you has brought up that night since it all went down. That was three days ago now and you know when you go into the office today that Jiyoon is going to be there. It’s an inevitability of working together, crossing paths with coworkers. It was lucky that she was out of the office all day yesterday.
Taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself for the elevator doors to slide open. As soon as they do, it seems like a hush falls in the office. It feels like your first day of school or something, with the way eyes track you as you make your way to your desk. Something has changed, the atmosphere between yesterday and today is different, and you can’t shake the foreboding feeling now working its way down your throat.
“How embarrassing,” titters a familiar, snide voice from behind you. “Can you imagine showing up to work after what happened?”
Dani laughs at something Sooah, one of the other portfolio managers in the office, says. You can’t quite make it out, but that doesn’t stop the skin along your arms from pimpling and the hair on the nape of your neck from standing on end. Maybe if you go and ask now, feigning some pregnancy-related symptom, Namjoon will let you go home.
“Can you be a bit more professional, Dani? And you know better than to encourage her, Sooah.” The voice of Hyeonwoo from accounting chimes in as he briskly crosses the space between Sooah’s cubicle and continues past yours. “Namjoon doesn’t approve of office gossip, and it’s not above me to ask if he’d care to hear the latest little bird song.”
It seems everyone knows what’s going on, so you shouldn’t be surprised. But you can’t help but feel a little jolt of shock. Jiyoon shares most things with Dani, who has the biggest, loudest mouth in the office. You’d think Jiyoon would have wanted something like her marital problems not to be aired to the entire company.
“No clue what you’re talking about, Hyeonwoo. We were just reading this ‘Am I The Asshole’ thread on Reddit,” Dani sasses, grinning like a Cheshire cat when her eyes flicker to yours over the divider around your desk. “‘Am I the asshole for missing my pregnant wife’s very important doctor’s appointment because I was too busy playing hospital with her best friend, who just so happens to also be pregnant with my baby’. Only he claims it’s ‘not like that’.”
Sooah covers her laugh with a cough. Heat brushes up your neck, and embarrassment laced with a healthy dose of anger simmers in your stomach. They’re talking about you, yes, but that’s not what’s bothering you the most. What hurts more than anything is they seem so callous in talking about your pregnancy—the pregnancy you have because you wanted to help your best friend.
“Oh, Dani, Sooah, Hyeonwoo is right. Stop acting like children talking about things you know nothing about.” Jiyoon’s voice cuts through the uncomfortable silence. “That’s in poor taste, and you both should apologize.” She approaches your desk with a strained smile on her face. “Hey. Don’t listen to them.”
You chew on the inside of your lip before quietly responding, “Because it’s not true?”
“Because they’re just joking, even if they’re not very good at it.”
It’s impossible to know what to say. Jiyoon is talking to you as if there isn’t this giant gaping chasm named Jungkook between the two of you. “A joke?” Waving a hand in the air to dismiss that line of thinking, you turn to Jiyoon and open your mouth, intent to confront her about what’s going on or at least demanding she talks to you about it later, but she starts to speak before you can.
“We should get lunch today—oh, wait, I can’t today. But we should do that soon, okay?” She gives you a sincere smile. “Maybe we can talk baby names.” You’re so taken aback that all you can do is stare at her until she turns around and goes on about her morning like absolutely nothing happened. It’s as if it’s just a normal Thursday in the office.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
If someone had asked Jungkook six months ago where he thought he would be, the last thing he would have said was sleeping on your couch with his marriage in shambles. It’s been three days since he blacked out with his face pressed against your baby bump. Waking up that morning was only slightly awkward.
He’s been keeping himself busy by checking work emails and watching parenting videos on YouTube. Taehyung stopped by the condo for him the morning after, when Jiyoon was at work, and grabbed some of his things. Apparently, Jungkook’s phone fell behind the bench when he was putting on his shoes before he left to go to the hospital to be with you. When he powered it on, he wanted to throw it against the wall and watch it shatter.
The text message he thought he sent to Jiyoon sat there, unsent, in the fucking text box. Taehyung told him that didn’t excuse the way Jiyoon acted. Sure, Jungkook had missed an appointment, but she didn’t even show concern for his well-being. What if Jungkook had been the one in the hospital? He said all she was doing was playing the victim.
Jungkook didn’t want to continue that conversation, almost as much as he didn’t want to reach out to Jiyoon. So, instead of doing either, he’s been focused on other things, like work. You did him a favor and rescheduled a shoot he had later in the week. Thankfully, the brand was willing to be flexible, though he knows not everyone will be.
Which is why he got up this morning, took a shower, and is now on his way to meet Taehyung for lunch. Jungkook needs to get back to some semblance of normality, and food with his best friend is a great place to start. Taehyung is also bringing Jimin, and it’ll be nice to just have a moment of feeling like a human being again.
Taehyung chose a nice bistro just down the street, so Jungkook decided to walk. With every step he takes, he can’t help but swivel his eyes and check every face that passes him. The last thing he wants to do is somehow accidentally run into Jiyoon. Knowing his luck, that’s exactly what would happen no matter how hard he tried.
Thankfully, it seems the world has decided not to hate Jungkook that much today. Jimin and Taehyung are already there, seated at a booth in the back, when Jungkook walks through the door, the overhead bell tinkling brightly.
“Hey, man!” Jimin greets him cheerfully. Jungkook is certain Jimin could field the entire Kim Exclusives brand roster on his own, with his lush lips, soft cheeks, and dark eyes. The stylishly tousled blond-dyed hair helps, too.
Jungkook slides into the seat across from them. “How’s it going?”
“Busy!” Jimin flashes a charming smile. “I booked a brand deal with this pretty big jewelry company, and they want me to attend one of their launch parties this summer. I have five vouchers for plus ones if you’re interested. My manager, of course, gets one. Taehyung has one, and I’ve invited this guy I’ve been talking to for a while, Hoseok. That leaves two tickets unclaimed.”
Jungkook suppresses a smile at the jealous flash in Taehyung’s eyes when Jimin mentions this mysterious Hoseok. It’s cute how Taehyung tries to hide his very obvious crush on Jimin. All it would take is for Taehyung to actually ask Jimin out, and Jungkook knows he’d say yes in an instant.
“There will be an open bar and lots of potential connections to be made,” Taehyung adds, clearly trying to move the conversation along.
“Yeah, you can bring Ji—uh…” Jimin stammers to a stop. The poor guy blanches, clearly worried he might have upset Jungkook by almost talking about someone in particular that they’ve all been pointedly avoiding mentioning.
“It’s okay,” Jungkook tells Jimin. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You can always bring our boss instead,” Taehyung suggests, waggling his brows at Jungkook.
Jimin pops his elbows on the table and leans toward Jungkook. “She’s who you’re staying with right now, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. But, can we not talk about any of that? I just want to feel normal, please. Let’s talk about anything but my fucked up life.”
“Right, sure, of course.”
“No problem, man.”
Jimin and Taehyung shift gears without any issue, and Jungkook is thankful for that. By the time they order food and have eaten, Jungkook is feeling so much better that it doesn’t bother him that much when Taehyung asks him a question that’s close to the taboo subject of she-who-shall-not-be-named.
“When do you think you’ll be coming home?”
Jungkook drums his fingers on the tabletop, not having really given that much thought to it before now. “Honestly? I don’t really know. The condo is in my name, but I can’t just kick…Jiyoon—” he only stumbles over her name a little “—out.”
“I mean, you’re not just going to let her have it, are you?” Taehyung takes a sip of his tea before setting it back down. “You make good money, but you’re not made of giving away entire condos money, Jungkook. We book a lot of the same clients, I would know.”
He’s right; Jungkook knows this. And it’s not like he can stay with you forever. He already feels like he’s invading your space, and it’s only been a few days. Perhaps it’s time for Jungkook to swallow his reservations and seek out some answers. Life isn’t going to stand still for him; he needs to push through it and get to the other side.
“Fuck, man. I know. I’ll contact a lawyer today and see what’s the best course of action moving forward. Gotta start somewhere, right?”
“That’s the spirit,” Taehyung proclaims with an enthusiastic nod. “Don’t let the bitch continue to control your life!”
💔💔💔
You’re not sure you can let another minute pass without confronting the giant, awkward, proverbial elephant in the room. Jiyoon has spent the entirety of the day pretending like nothing is amiss. During the weekly team meeting this afternoon, she sat beside you like she always has, a smile on her face and a hand gently draped over her baby bump—the baby that she told Jungkook wasn’t his.
It’s late afternoon now, and most everyone else in the office has gone home, leaving just you, Jiyoon, Hyeonwoo, and Namjoon. Hyeonwoo and Namjoon are tucked away in one of the conference rooms, going over projections and finance reports, so if you want to have a private moment with Jiyoon, now is your chance.
Her desk is close enough to yours that you don’t need to cross the space, but you do anyway, the five feet feeling more like a mile with every step you take.
“Hey, Jiyoon. Do you have a moment?”
“What?” She taps away at her computer, the screen angled in a way that you can’t see. “Not really a great time. I’m trying to submit the schedule approval for a press tour for Dohyun.” You know Dohyun is one of the high-profile actors that she’s managed for a few years.
That’s not what you were expecting to hear. You were hoping for maybe a bit more receptiveness. Despite knowing that pushing her probably won’t do you any good, you know you need to try. “Jiyoon, please. It will only take a moment. It’s important.”
Jiyoon blows out a breath of irritation. Her mouse click is harsh and exaggerated, and her annoyance is palpable. “Okay, go on.”
“What the hell is going on with you?” you ask, choosing not to sugarcoat the situation and getting right to the point.
Her eyes bulge, clearly surprised by your approach. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t. You know what I’m talking about, the fact that your husband is sleeping on my goddamn couch and that supposedly that’s not his baby!” you whisper yell, nodding toward her maroon maxi dress-covered belly.
Jiyoon is a few inches taller than you, even more so in the short-heeled pumps she’s wearing. But when she stands up and steps into your personal space, you refuse to back down even though the feeling of her belly pressing to the top of yours makes you want to retreat.
Moments pass in tense silence, her dark brown eyes boring into yours. Finally, she steps back with a soft laugh. “Is that what he told you?”
No. It’s something you’ve been avoiding talking to Jungkook about for obvious reasons. If he wanted to talk about it, he’d bring it up. But, you don’t think Taehyung would have lied to you when he dropped a drunk Jungkook on your doorstep. Taehyung is a lot of things, as you’ve learned over the years, but a liar isn’t one of them.
“It doesn’t matter what he told me. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Because despite how you might feel, hearing her side seems to be the least you can do at this point. Maybe she’ll provide some crucial bit of information or make any of it make sense.
Her arms cross over her chest, and one of her hips pops out in a classic Jiyoon stance when she’s about to fight using words. “Look, Jungkook and I had an argument. It got heated. We both said some shit we didn’t mean. It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last. That’s just how marriages go.” She says that with a look on her face that says you clearly wouldn’t understand because you’ve never been married. “Sorry that he’s taking up space in your apartment. Tell him to go to a hotel or something if he’s bothering you.” She shrugs. “Things should blow over soon, and he’ll come back home either way.”
“You’ve talked to him?”
“Well, no, but I know him. Everything will be fine. Now, I need to get back to work. You should go home. Put your feet up and rest. It’ll be good for your baby and ankle.” The tenderness and concern in her tone give you whiplash.
Part of you wants to stay and ask more questions, but you’re not sure it’ll do you any good. She didn’t answer your first question anyway—not really, at least. Jiyoon's answer was generic and didn’t provide any sort of details—a half-answer at best. She didn’t confirm nor deny whether what she said to Jungkook about the baby was true, and that, perhaps, should be an answer enough for you.
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Your mind is still reeling by the time you get home. But the smell of grilled meat and sauteed vegetables that greets you as you open the door stops the grind wheel in its tracks. Jungkook is in the kitchen, standing at the stove, his back to you. A white shirt stretches over the broad expanse of his shoulders as they move with whatever he’s occupied with. By the sounds of it, he’s moving things around a pan.
Soft music drifts to you from the Bluetooth speaker sitting on the island that separates the living room from the kitchen. Jungkook’s voice mixes with the vocals. It’s a beautiful tenor that could do good for him if he ever stopped modeling.
The last thing you want is to disrupt his peace. You had made up your mind as you traveled home that you would bring up everything with Jungkook tonight, wanting to get it all out in the open and addressed so you knew what to expect moving forward, knew how long he’d be staying with you. 
It’s a conversation that needs to happen, but maybe it can wait…just a little longer.
“Hey,” you call after slipping off your shoe and removing the temporary boot. You only have to wear it for a few more days and really only if you’re going to be doing a lot of walking.
Jungkook spins around, spatula in hand, with a giant grin on his face. “You’re home! I hope you don’t mind. I thought I could at least make dinner. As a thank you for letting me crash here the last few days. I feel bad for invading your space.”
“You don’t have to thank me, though I won’t say no to whatever you’re making. It smells absolutely divine. Is that garlic?”
“Yes! I made some samgyeopsal and japchae. There are also some pajeon staying warm in the oven. Are you hungry? It’s all ready.” He looks at you hopeful, hands clasped around the spatula handle.
Your stomach gives an appreciative rumble. “Most definitely. Let me go change real quick, and then we can eat.”
The domestic feel of coming home to someone making dinner for you in the kitchen sparks you as surprisingly comforting. You’re so used to coming home to an empty space, preparing a small meal, and then spending time with your own thoughts and activities. Having Jungkook here, even for this short of a time, has made you realize how much you enjoy coming home to a space that’s not so empty.
When you make it into your room, you notice there is a silver boutique bag sitting on your bed. Inside there is a sage-colored cashmere button-up cardigan and a pair of butter soft yoga pants with a built-in belly band.
“I thought you might like them. You mentioned last night how you needed a new pair of lounge pants and that you accidentally got sauce on your favorite sweater. I know it’s not much, but I went out to lunch with Taehyung and Jimin this afternoon and saw that cardigan in a window, and it reminded me of you.” Jungkook fills the doorway of your room, his shadow stretching long across the foot of your bed.
“Jungkook, this is—” The cardigan and pants are both softer than probably anything else in your wardrobe, and it’s on the tip of your tongue to tell him it’s far too much, and you can’t accept it, but you realize maybe you need this as much as he does “—wonderful. Thank you.”
There is a soft boyishness to the way he smiles, dropping his eyes from yours as he rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I’ll let you change. I’m going to set the table.”
He disappears back down the hall, and you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Now, more than anything, you don’t want to tarnish what seems to be turning into a perfect night with a conversation about Jiyoon.
Normally, you would wash clothes before wearing them, but it’s too tempting to try the pants and cardigan on. They both fit perfectly and feel like velvety hugs against your skin. When you come out of your room, Jungkook is sitting at the dining table. Steaming dishes of vegetables, noodles, meat, and onion pancakes sit beside two plates and sets of cutlery. A chilled glass of water and a set of cutlery with a folded napkin sits beside your placemat.
“It looks amazing,” you tell Jungkook as you take your seat. “I didn’t realize you could cook.”
“Because I’m a man?” he asks, raising a brow at you in jest.
“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” You stick your tongue out at him, and he laughs. “Because you’ve never told me.”
“You’ve never asked.” Jungkook serves you first, giving you generous portions of everything.
“Touche. What other talents do you have that I don’t know about?”
Jungkook looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Does being really good at video games count?”
“Video games?” you giggle. “I guess that depends on how good we’re talking here.”
Jungkook’s eyes gleam with mischievous intent as he brings them back to yours. “Play me some time and find out.”
You laugh again. “I don’t think that would be a fair assessment at all.”
He grins, his white teeth flashing. “What about you? Do you have any talents I don’t know about?”
There is one thing you’ve never shared with anyone before, and you’re not sure what makes you want to share it with Jungkook, but you find yourself opening up regardless. “I’m not sure if it would be considered a talent. But, have you ever heard of the children’s book series ‘Tales of Buttercup and Biscuit’?”
“Isn’t that the one about the cat and dog that go on secret adventures together but have to hide their friendship because cats and dogs aren’t supposed to get along?”
Your teeth press into your bottom lip, a habit of yours that you’ve tried and failed to break many times. “That’s the one.”
Jungkook looks at you, waiting for you to continue, but you just let it hang there in the air, hoping he’ll put the pieces together. The moment it clicks, you see a spark of surprise in his suddenly wide eyes. “Wait, no. No! That’s you?! My little cousin loves those books. He raves about them all the time!”
“It’s nothing, really. Just something I enjoy in my spare time.”
“A published book series is not nothing,” Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re far too humble. Wow. Just wow. That’s amazing. Your secret talent is definitely way better than mine.”
The conversation continues throughout dinner and carries into a shared dessert of coffee patisseries and vanilla ice cream. Jungkook sits on one end of the couch with you on the other, your feet in his lap as he massages them. The empty dishes from dessert sit discarded on the floor beside the couch.
“That feels good,” you sigh. “I didn’t think my feet would be swelling this much this early on.”
“What does it feel like?” Jungkook asks, his eyes lifting to yours from under his brow as he’s bent over your feet.
“Having swollen feet?”
“Well, not just that, but everything. What’s it like being pregnant?”
You think about it for a moment, wanting to give as best an answer as possible. “It’s hard to say, really. I imagine it’s different for everyone. But, for me, it’s I ate too much food for dinner, if that makes sense? It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but I can tell my stomach is expanding, and my body is making more room on the inside. Sometimes, I think I can feel a flutter, like movement. Right here,” you say, pressing a hand on the right side at the bottom of your bump. “But I read online that since this is my first, it might be a few more weeks before I actually feel any movement.”
Jungkook uses the flat of his thumbs to knead the ball of your left foot. The lotion sitting on the side table has a subtle lilac scent. He squeezes a small dollop in his hand and goes back to work. You know Jungkook is particular about heavy scents, so when he asked for lotion to use while massaging your feet, you grabbed the one with the lightest scent.
“Would you…” Jungkook begins but trails off, pursing his lips as if reconsidering what he was about to ask. “Do you think that when you do start to feel movement—what I’m trying to say is, would you be comfortable with letting me try to feel them, too?”
“Of course. Absolutely. Why wouldn’t—”
The sound of Jungkook’s phone chiming cuts you off. You recognize the ringtone, and suddenly, a leaden weight sits in the pit of your stomach.
Jungkook licks his lips nervously, his eyes flicking between yours and where the phone is tucked into his pocket. “I—uh, I should probably…get that. I’m sorry. Do you mind?” He points down the hall, and you assume he’s asking if he can step into your room or the bathroom for some privacy.
You pull your feet off his lap and give him a quick nod, unsure you can trust yourself not to tell him not to answer it, to beg him to let this spell of peace last a little while longer. Jungkook gives you an apologetic smile before retreating down the hall, his form disappearing into the dark.
A moment later, you hear the distinct click of the bathroom closing and the lock rolling into place. You can’t help but feel like things are about to change, and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
Running a hand through his hair, Jungkook pushes it back from his face before sitting on the lip of the tub and swiping to answer the call.
“Ju-Jungkook?” Jiyoon’s voice cracks through the line and it tears at Jungkook’s heart. No matter how hurt he is right now, he’s never liked the sound of her crying. It’s ingrained in his soul to immediately want to console her, to tell her not to cry and that everything will be okay. Only, any comforting words he might normally say crumble like dust on his tongue. “Jungkook. Please. I can’t do this. I’m…I’m so sorry.”
Over the last few days, when Jungkook did allow himself to think about this moment, he expected to feel some sort of relief with those words. ‘I’m sorry’. Hearing them now, though, the only thing he feels is sorrow.
“I don’t know that I can believe you.” That’s all his mind will allow him to utter in response because it is genuinely the truth.
Jungkook and Jiyoon have been together for around six years. In all those years, not a single day has been spent hating her or feeling anything less than love for her. Sure, there have been dark times, but that’s never been able to truly overshadow his love for his wife.
When they first met, he was captivated by her headstrong and resilient nature. He was drawn to the way she seemed to take charge of a room from the moment she walked in. It wasn’t hard to fall in love with her.
Despite that seemingly rock-steady exterior, Jiyoon also showed him a tender side of her nature that few got to see. She had compassion and loved helping people, volunteering in her spare time to work on humanitarian projects and hosting fundraisers. She once told him that if she didn’t love marketing and media so much, she’d probably have opened her own non-profit to raise awareness for gender inequalities.
It wasn’t until a few years ago that she really started to change. There were fewer of those tender moments and more of the stone-faced, withdrawn woman he knows now. A ghost of who she once was…or maybe just who she was always meant to be—who she really was all along.
“You have every right to say that.” Jiyoon clears her throat, and Jungkook can almost see her dabbing at her face with a tissue, blotting away smears of mascara and eyeliner. “But I am sorry. I didn’t mean all those things I said to you the other night. I was mad, hurt, and lashing out. It…it’s not true, what I said about the baby.”
A twinge of something pangs in Jungkook’s chest. “What?”
“The baby, it is yours, Jungkook. I know you didn’t fuck my friend. God, I can’t believe I accused you of that. I know you’d never do that. I just…I was so mad. I was so mad I couldn’t think straight.”
“That’s not a good enough excuse, Jiyoon.” Jungkook carefully considers his words, trying to be honest without being too harsh. No matter what transpired, Jiyoon is still a person and deserves to be treated as such. “What you said…what you insinuated, that hurt me.”
“I know, baby. I didn’t mean it. Well, I did mean it. I wanted to hurt you, wanted to make you feel like I was feeling, but only because you hurt me first. And I know that’s silly, awful, and childish. I just couldn’t stop myself once I had started.” Jiyoon sighs, the sound exhausted. “The baby is yours, Jungkook. I swear.”
“I want to believe you, Jiyoon, I really do. I’m just not sure you saying sorry is enough. That’s not just something you spout out off the handle, most lies hold a semblance of truth.”
Jiyoon hums softly, and Jungkook knows she’s trying to collect her thoughts and form them into words. “There…is some truth in what I said—” she pauses when Jungkook lets out a heavy breath “—but not like that, not about the baby. The truth is in the fact that I was scared, and intimidated by the way you care so much about another woman. And yes, even if that woman is my friend.”
“She’s carrying my child, a child she agreed to carry for us. Of course, I’m going to make sure she is taken care of and want to be a part of as much of the process as possible. I thought you were also doing that? Don’t you talk to her, spend time with her, bond over pregnancy? It’s the same thing.”
She doesn’t immediately answer. Then, “Probably not as much as I should have.”
Jungkook is taken aback by this revelation. He thought surely the two of you were in constant contact and sharing the experience of it all together. You haven’t brought up anything that would make Jungkook think otherwise, but then again, he’s never bothered to ask either.
“You can’t expect me to distance myself or treat her any differently when she is carrying something that is meant to be so precious to the both of us.” Jungkook means that with his entire being. If anything, he thinks he could even treat you better than he currently does, and make more of an effort in some areas.
“It’s…just hard, okay? I know it’s not an excuse, but you kept missing my appointments because you were busy spending time with her instead. I know the last time it was an emergency and I take full responsibility for my actions and the words I said. But, I promise, everything I said was just out of anger. I mean,” she laughs, the sound lightly incredulous and humorless, “why would I accuse you of cheating and then immediately confess to cheating? That’s kind of silly when you think about it, right?”
Jungkook did consider it when trying to make it all make sense. But he just chalked it up to Jiyoon possibly projecting her own actions and guilt onto Jungkook when she accused him, to begin with. The fact that her tactic changed to say the worst possible thing to hurt him just seems par for the course.
“I guess, maybe.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders even though Jiyoon can’t see him. “I don’t know what to think anymore, to be honest with you.”
Jiyoon sniffles, her voice rough with tears, “I understand that. I accept that. And I promise to make it up to you. Just come back home, and we can work through it.”
That would be the easy thing to do…but also maybe the last thing he should do. Jungkook is aware that Jiyoon knows his weaknesses. All it would take is a few well-placed words, and he’d forgive her completely and forget that all this had even happened. It’s happened before, perhaps more than it should have.
That is why he says, “I don’t know, Jiyoon. I don’t think that’s a good idea—not right away, at least.”
“Jungkook. Please,” she cries. “Please, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I feel like I’ve lost you and…and I can’t, I just can’t. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, I’ll do whatever it takes. Just, please, please…” Her desperate pleas turn into incoherent sobs.
“Hey, hey,” Jungkook coos, his deeply ingrained instincts kicking in despite knowing he should try to hold out. “Calm down, shh, hey, deep breaths. Just like that, good. Come on, one more. Smooth, calm.” Once her cries have subsided into hiccuping spurts, Jungkook takes a deep breath and offers the only thing he can right now, “How about we take things slow? Maybe we can meet for lunch at the end of the week if you’re not too busy with work.”
“O-okay, yeah. Yes, please. Okay, let’s do that, I’ll clear my schedule,” Jiyoon accepts quickly, voice still thick with emotion but Jungkook can hear the smallest hint of a smile in her words.
By the time Jungkook leaves the bathroom, you’re no longer sitting on the couch. The leftovers from dinner have been put away, and the kitchen has been cleaned up. A wave of guilt-laden regret washes through Jungkook. He feels bad you did all the cleanup by yourself.
Tonight had started out so promising. It would be an injustice for Jungkook not to admit he enjoyed tonight more than he has any night in the last few years. You’re just so easy to be around, so soft and calm, your energy a pleasant buzz instead of a trumpeting cacophony like Jiyoon's. It’s a wonder you’ve been friends with her for as long as you have, being near complete opposites. Yet…not in a bad way.
Jungkook swallows hard at that revelation. Maybe he can blame the falling out on feeling disconnected from Jiyoon and more connected to…well, to someone who isn’t his wife.
It’s a startling realization—one that leaves him tormented with uncertainty and falling into a sleep so fitful it tempts him to knock on your door. The closest he gets is standing outside your closed bedroom door, his fist poised, hovering over the hardwood. But, in the end, he crawls back into his makeshift bed on the couch and doesn’t sleep a wink.
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Jungkook wants to talk with you about his conversation with Jiyoon, but there hasn’t been a moment of freedom to do more than the typical day-to-day check-in. He doesn’t want to just say, ‘Oh, hey, by the way, Jiyoon said she lied, and we’re going to have lunch to talk it out in a few days.’ It’s a conversation that definitely needs more time and grace.
To make up for the shoot you rescheduled for him since he’s now feeling much better, Jungkook decided to take on a last-minute speaking engagement at the grand re-opening of a downtown shop that has a contract deal with one of his brands.
After hours of smiling and posing for pictures, Jungkook met with Taehyung for lunch and then lost himself for a few more hours at the gym of your apartment complex while he waited for you to get home. When he finally returned to your place, a covered dish of food, still warm in the oven, was waiting for him, and you were already in bed.
As Jungkook eats the food you prepared for him, he can’t stop kicking himself for the opportunity lost. He really wants to talk to you before meeting with Jiyoon for lunch tomorrow. He values not only your opinion on the whole situation but also the fact that you know Jiyoon nearly as well as, if not more than, he does. So, he hopes he can catch you in the morning before you go to work. Unless…you’re intentionally avoiding him, a thought that hits deeper than maybe it should.
💔💔💔
You hate being late to work, but when you woke up this morning your stomach had plans you couldn’t exactly foresee. In between moments of hugging the toilet, you manage to send Namjoon an email letting him know you’ll be a little late this morning.
Thirty minutes later, feeling marginally better, you finish getting ready and are surprised to catch Jungkook in the kitchen making breakfast. You’ve not necessarily been avoiding him, but you’ve also not not been. You might have overheard the tail-end of his conversation with Jiyoon two nights ago and haven’t been able to shake this foreboding feeling ever since.
“Good morning,” you say as you slip past him and start to make a cup of tea.
Jungkook looks at you over his shoulder. “Morning. You feeling okay?”
“I just had a bit of a spell this morning. I’m feeling much better now. I'm just going to make my tea to-go and then be on my way.” 
“Hey, um, do you think we could talk? I’ve been meaning to bring it up since the other night, but I just…timing hasn’t exactly been on my side, and well…”
“I got a few minutes, sure. I already emailed Namjoon to let him know I would be coming in a bit late today.”
“Great. Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll finish your tea, and I also made some muffins,” he says, shooing you toward the dining table before turning back and opening the oven. The smell of fresh banana muffins wafts to you and makes your mouth water.
“So, what’s up?” you ask when Jungkook sits down.
You watch him prepare your tea, adding the perfect amount of honey and cream. It’s such an insignificant thing, tea, but the fact Jungkook knows how you like yours, makes you feel good…really good.
“Well, we haven’t exactly talked about everything that happened. Taehyung told me he filled you in on what all I told him, but I don’t know if he told you…everything.”
It’s hard not to let the topic of conversation sour your mood. But this is a conversation you know has needed to happen, so you begrudgingly don’t pull away from it. “He told me that Jiyoon told you…about her baby and then something about me and you.” That’s a very vanilla version of it, but you don’t want to say any more details than necessary.
“Right. That’s the gist of it. She apologized to me the other night when she called. She claimed she only said those things out of anger and because she was hurt. It was her way of hurting me for hurting her. I guess I haven’t exactly taken her feelings into account with some stuff lately, and when I missed her twenty-two-week appointment, she lost it and said all those things to get back at me for it.”
Jungkook makes it seem so innocent, so cut and dry…so, forgivable.
“I see.”
“I’m having lunch with her today, so we can talk some more. She wants to work things out and asked me to come back home.”
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that the metallic zing of blood coats your tongue. “And are you?”
“Going to lunch, yes. Back home? I don’t know. I have to go home sometime, I suppose.”
The confusion on Jungkook’s face is clear to you, like he doesn’t know up from down when it comes to what he wants right now. But you also see resignation, like he knows it’s inevitable that he’ll be back home soon, whether or not Jiyoon is there, too.
“I…okay, I understand that.” It’s not your place to beg him not to go. Jungkook is his own person and can make his own decisions. However, what you can do is tell him how it makes you feel. “Just know, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I know sleeping on the couch probably isn’t super comfortable, but I’m just saying. You always have a place here, no matter what. I’m sure there are a lot of things you and Jiyoon need to discuss, just—” you sigh, pressing on even though you’re not sure if Jungkook will be receptive to your criticisms “—be careful. Don’t accept something because it’s the easy way, be sure it’s something you want and that you protect yourself above all other things.”
It’s possible you’re seeing what you want to see, or maybe it’s really there, but for a moment, you’re certain there is a flash of something more in Jungkook’s eyes—something that says he wishes you told him not to do it. But it’s gone before you can decide if it was there or just your imagination.
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When you finally make it in, Jiyoon is floating around the office like a fairy. Her chiming laugh fills the space, and she’s absolutely glowing in her pregnancy. Everyone in the office says so, complimenting how luminous her skin is and how shiny her long black hair looks. You’ve gotten some compliments, too, but they’ve been mixed in with whispers and office gossip.
Even before Junkook and Jiyoon had their falling out, seemingly everyone found out about what you offered to do for them. When Jiyoon first revealed that you were pregnant with a baby for her and Jungkook, one specifically composed of your DNA and his, the entire office seemed to have an opinion about it—not all positive, either.
There are quite a few different options for surrogacy available thanks to the advances of modern medicine, and the method that Jungkook presented to you is the one that he believes suits the fertility issues Jiyoon was facing the best.
When it first came out, Namjoon had taken you aside into his office to talk about the implications of having a more than professional relationship with a client and how important it is to maintain boundaries, the typical HR spiel to which you politely agreed and promised him things weren’t going to interfere with work. You wonder now if you need to have another conversation with Namjoon about not being able to keep that promise, considering recent events.
Jiyoon catches your eye as she picks up a small pink bag from Dani’s desk, a bright smile on her face. “Hey, you!” she calls to you.
“Hey,” you mutter in response, still unsure how you feel about everything Jungkook told you this morning. You know it’s entirely possible. Blowing something out of proportion is exactly Jiyoon's thing to do. She loves to wound with words, lashing out with a viper tongue when the mood suits her.
“Can we talk for a minute?” she asks, stepping close to you and lowering her voice.
”Yeah, sure.”
”Great, let me just put this on my desk real fast.” She gives the pink gift bag she got from Dani a little shake.
You follow her to where your desks are. She drops off the pink present, and it joins a scattering of other pastel pink and yellow wrapped gifts or baggies. A sinking feeling hits you, and you mentally connect the dots to what that could possibly mean.
“A girl?”
Her eyes are vibrant when they meet yours. “Yeah, isn’t it exciting? A daughter.”
A sister.
Knowing your son could possibly have a sister should be exciting. Yet…if it’s supposed to be exciting, then why do you suddenly desire to run away and hide to protect your son? Also, since when did you start thinking of the baby as yours? You shake away that thought, clear your throat, and plaster on a strained smile.
“Exciting, yeah. Congratulations. If I had known we were bringing gifts today, I would have grabbed something.”
“Oh, nonsense. But, about what I wanted to talk to you about,” she says, waving a hand to dismiss what you said about the gift.
You wait for her to go on, but she glances around and then takes your arm and tugs you closer to the supply closet on this side of the office, notably as far away from your coworkers as you can get without going to the restroom or Namjoon’s personal office.
“What is it?” you ask, crossing your arms under your breasts. It breaks her hold on your arm, but the tightening feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach says you also feel like you need a hug, and your own arms are the best you have right now.
Her voice is pitched low, her body angled so her back is more to the office space and any curious eyes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Genuinely, and truly. You are my best friend, and I know I’ve been less than stellar with you for a while now. Everything got away from me, and I was acting out, being a bully, and just a horrible person all around. Then everything with the babies and all the issues between Jungkook and I, and well…I know that doesn’t justify how I acted, but now Jungkook is upset with me, and I don’t know what to do. I just thought that maybe—well, if things were okay between us, then maybe he’d come home. I didn’t realize what I said to him would hurt you, too. I thought you would have known better since we’ve been friends for so long.”
Once upon a time, you would have said without a doubt that you could tell when Jiyoon was being dishonest with you or not. Now, however, you’re not so sure. You wish Jungkook were here so you could look to him for his opinion, which has been something you’ve come to greatly appreciate.
“Okay, I guess. Thanks for apologizing.” This comes out more as a question than a statement, but it seems to satisfy Jiyoon.
“Great! I’m glad you understand and that we’re on the same page. So, you’ll tell him to come home? Oh, and I meant what I said the other day. We should have lunch sometime soon. I’d love to chat about how the next few months are going to go. We’ll have to figure out how to coordinate bringing my babies home. Can’t be too prepared, right? Plus, it’ll be here before we know it.”
Your spine straightens, and your muscles tense as Jiyoon throws her arms around your neck and hugs you. For the second time in a matter of days, the press of her stomach against yours makes you uncomfortable. Something isn’t sitting right with you, this whole interaction feels off, and you just can’t put your finger on why.
Patting her on the back lightly, you disengage and give her what you hope is a polite smile before telling her you need to get some work done. There is something about this interaction, something about Jiyoon, that just…has your alarm bells going off. Everything about the last few months has you rethinking a lot of things…and perhaps the first thing on that list should be your friendship with Jiyoon.
As soon as you sit at your desk, your first reaction is to pull out your phone and text Jungkook. But, you stop yourself, leaving the device in your bag. Jungkook told you he was having lunch with Jiyoon today, and you don’t want to bother him with something that is probably nothing.
If, by the end of the day, you still can’t shake this unsteady feeling, then you vow to allow yourself the grace to bring your feelings and concerns to Jungkook. Not in the hopes of persuading him in any way, but to hopefully have an outside perspective on whether or not you’re reaching here.
Something does feel off. But maybe that something is you and what is turning out to be the not-so-tiny, very significant, completely not-harmless crush you have on Jungkook. The fact that you don’t even want to think of him as your friend’s husband anymore is quite telling in and of itself.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
There have been times in Jungkook’s life when he wished he could go back in time and change things. It hasn’t happened often, but when it does, the thing he would change is always life-altering in some way.
For instance, he would go back in time and change the way he approached the subject of wanting to have children with Jiyoon. Or, rather, he might even go back to before they got engaged—which was maybe too soon itself, considering they got engaged and married within a year of first meeting—and insist they talk about their future wants and desires to make sure that they aligned.
Jungkook isn’t sure why it took him so long to think about it, but with everything that has happened in the last few months, he can’t help but look back on it now. He’s sitting in his car, waiting for Jiyoon to arrive at the BBQ place she chose for lunch. It was still thirty minutes until their agreed-upon time, but Jungkook had nothing else to do.
So, here he is, with his thoughts. Jungkook brought up the desire of wanting to have children four years into their marriage, which was two years ago now. Two years, that feel like two decades, of an uphill battle in which Jungkook thought he and Jiyoon were on the same page. Only, that wasn’t always the case.
It seems so vague a memory now, but it’s there nonetheless. Jiyoon expressed her own thoughts about children; she didn’t want them. At least, not so soon. He’s not sure if he can place the moment in their marriage when she changed her mind, because it all feels so seamless to Jungkook.
Thinking back on their journey, Jiyoon suggested they start trying more often. However, Jiyoon also took their passionate moments of indulgence and made them into robotic meetings of anatomy. Jungkook definitely remembers that pivotal moment in their relationship.
Perhaps that is something else he would go back and change. He’d approach the idea of seeking medical assistance differently. He wouldn’t have gone behind Jiyoon’s back and sought answers she wasn’t ready to have. Maybe if he’d have been more delicate about it, the schedule would have never come into play.
As with all thoughts about changing the past, he can’t help but wonder whether what happened was a good thing. After all, if the child Jiyoon is carrying is indeed his, maybe it was the schedule that helped in the end anyway.
With so many thoughts, Jungkook feels like he might drown if he continues with all the what-ifs and whys of it all. Turning on his radio, he reclines his seat and brings up the camera roll on his phone. This has turned into one of his favorite pastimes, scrolling through all the happy images and memories he has saved here.
His thumb pauses, hovering over one of the more recent shots. The day he found out he was having a son, the day his world upended just a few hours later. Your smiling face, unshed tears in your eyes, pressed close to his, the ultrasound tech having insisted on capturing the delicate moment of pure rapture when you and Jungkook got to see that you were growing his son inside of you.
There are a few other shots of you, candid moments Jungkook captured because one day, no matter what anyone else thinks, he’s going to tell his son where he came from and show him the beautiful, thoughtful, and selfless woman who helped Jungkook create him. What better way to do that than through moments forever rendered in technicolor? Just to be safe, Jungkook clicks through and adds them all to his cloud.
Jungkook notices with a bitter pang of disappointment that he has so few pictures of Jiyoon pregnant. Anytime she catches him trying to take one, she gets really upset. The last time it happened, she cried, locked herself in the bathroom, and wouldn’t come out no matter how much Jungkook apologized. He didn’t see her until the next morning. 
He nearly drops his phone as it chimes with an incoming text message from Jiyoon. She is inside and waiting for him, it says. Knowing this is the right step forward, Jungkook rights his seat and climbs out of the car, heading inside.
“Hey, over here!” Jiyoon calls to him as soon as he steps past the host stand.
As always, she looks gorgeous. The plum-colored off-the-shoulder cable-knit sweater compliments the soft flush in her cheeks, and the black slacks accentuate her long legs. It’s hard to see her bump through the sweater, the fabric chunky in an intentional way.
She resumes her seat when he starts her way. “Hey,” Jungkook replies, taking the seat across from her.
“I went ahead and put in an order for the honey pork and beef. I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure, sounds great.” Jungkook clears his throat a few times, not sure what else to say. He pours himself a glass of water and begins to pour Jiyoon one before he even realizes it. It’s just so natural for him to do so.
“Thanks.” She gives him a smile as she accepts the glass. “And thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”
One of Jungkook’s shoulders kicks up in a half-shrug. “We have to talk sometime. And sooner is probably better than later.” A muscle feathers along his jaw as he clenches it. “Where would you like to begin?”
Jungkook feels like maybe he’s being a bit too cold or standoffish to Jiyoon, considering their near seven year history and the fact she’s his wife, for crying out loud. But, if he’s being honest, he’s still not over all the bullshit she said and the way she acted.
“Would you like to know the gender?” she asks hesitantly. Her right hand comes down and forms the front of her sweater over her belly, making it stand out.
Does he want to know? Yes. Of course, he does. No matter what has transpired, whether true or not, the baby is innocent in this.
“I would.”
The prominent thump of his heart echoes in his ears as Jiyoon slides a small, facedown picture across the table. “You can keep it if you want…I have a copy.”
With a slow exhale, Jungkook pinches the corner of the photo and turns it over. It’s so similar to many of the other grainy, black-and-white ultrasound images he’s seen over the last several weeks. But right there, toward the top right corner, is a single word, white text floating in the abyss of the static-like scan.
Girl.
“A girl,” Jungkook whispers, the word rushing from his mouth like he caught a fist in the gut. That fist moves up and takes a stranglehold on his heart next. It’s almost painful to breathe. Everything that was before, seems so much less significant now.
“Our daughter,” Jiyoon confirms, reaching out and gripping his free hand that was trembling on the table.
Tears sting Jungkook’s eyes, and he has to blink several times before he’s certain they won’t drip onto the photo. The first thought he has when everything comes rushing back in is that he needs to tell you, and wants to share in this joy with you. “My son is going to have a sister.”
He must have spoken aloud because Jiyoon lets out a startled gasp. “Your son? You mean the other baby is a boy?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Didn’t you know? I just thought maybe…” Jungkook trails off because he’s come to learn better that Jiyoon isn’t quite the friend he thought she was to you. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit if Jiyoon hadn’t spoken to you at all in the last week since everything went to shit.
Jiyoon sighs. “I did talk to her today—earlier, in fact. But we didn’t talk about the babies, not really. I…uh, I apologized to her for what I said and how I’ve been acting.” Her nose twitches as she sniffs, averting her gaze from Jungkook’s. “I’ve been such a shit friend lately, and after everything with you, I knew I needed to make it right. Or at least start trying to make it right. Everything has just happened so quickly, I feel like I’m drowning sometimes. And…a-and when my life preserver—” her eyes flick back to his for a moment, and he knows she means him “—isn’t there, I panic, and I guess that means I try to bring the whole ship down with me. I meant what I said, Jungkook, I am sorry about everything. What I said was awful, and that’s not the kind of person I want to be, not the kind of mother I want to be for our children. Will you come home? Please? I don’t want to spend another night alone in our home.”
“Maybe…I guess I can sleep in the guest room for a while? You know, just until I can get my head back on straight.”
“You mean that?” she asks, her grip tightening on his hand.
Looking back down at the photo still pinched between his fingers, he knows what the right thing to do is. There might still be a small sliver of doubt, but this baby—this little girl—deserves for him to give her a chance.
“Yeah, I mean that.”
💔💔💔
When Jiyoon returns to work after her lunch with Jungkook, that intense feeling from before increases. She’s far too happy right now for having just had lunch with the husband she shattered less than a week ago. You tap the screen on your phone, which sits on your desk, and you’re tempted to text Jungkook and ask him how it went. But a shadow falling over your desk draws your attention away.
“I brought you back something,” Jiyoon says with a smile, offering you a white paper bag.
You catch the scent of cinnamon and sugar as you accept the bag. A peek inside reveals a large pinwheel wrapped in wax paper, the bottom of the bag is warm, so you know it’s fresh.
“Um, okay. Thanks.”
“Jungkook mentioned that you’ve developed a bit of a sweet tooth thanks to Little Man. It’s probably not as good as his homemade banana bread, but I know you like cinnamon rolls, so I thought you might enjoy a treat.” She leans against the wall partition that separates your desk from hers. “I know I can’t seem to stop snacking on pretzels. Cute, right? Salty and sweet, already the perfect duo.”
Of course Jungkook would have told her the gender of the baby. You may not have signed the legal papers just yet, but there is no way you can even begin to think about keeping this baby from Jungkook. So, if with Jungkook comes Jiyoon, then you’re going to have to try to come to terms with some things or at least have a very open and meaningful conversation with them both. That’s something that strikes you suddenly, realizing that not once since you agreed to do surrogacy for them have all three of you sat down together to talk.
“So, lunch went okay?” You can’t help but ask. The need to know is far too great. This is a good segue into hopefully asking if the next lunch can include all three of you.
Jiyoon presses the tips of her fingers to her forehead. “Thankfully, yes. You’ll be happy to hear Jungkook is coming back home tonight, so he’ll be out of your hair soon. I, um, I hope things are okay between you and me. I know an apology doesn’t really do much, but I have another peace offering to go with the gooey goodness in that wrapper,” she beams, tapping the bag sitting on your desk.
Another peace offering? You have no idea what that could possibly be. “You have something else?”
Jiyoon leans toward her desk, and you hear the sound of papers shuffling before she produces a sheaf of papers. “It’s a birthing plan! I thought maybe making up your plan would help take that stress off of you. Especially considering our situation is a pretty special one. Everything there is what I would like to happen, but of course, if you need to add anything, that’s fine, too.”
There are easily a dozen papers stapled together here. It’s a detailed, bulleted list of requests. It covers everything from who is allowed in the birthing room and who cuts the cord to whether or not you can have an epidural and if you can hold the baby right after birth.
You scan the pages, your eyes snagging on at least every other word. Jiyoon wants Dani in the birthing room? She wants a doctor to cut the cord so the baby can be immediately given to her for skin-to-skin contact. Jungkook is allowed in the room, but only if he’s standing where he can’t see the birth. In parentheses beside that, there is ‘because it’ll be weird if he watches the baby come out’.
No epidural and only a heparin or saline lock for administering fluids if necessary. She wants you to be able to move around while in labor, but it’s listed that you’re only allowed to labor on your back so Jiyoon can watch her son being born. You’re only allowed to use a birthing ball, and absolutely no warm baths or showers.
In the event of a cesarean, Jiyoon will be the only one allowed into the operating room for support. The baby is to be fed exclusively breast milk but not directly from the breast. Below that is a list of top-of-the-line breast pumps and where to order them.
“Jiyoon. Are you serious?”
“What is it? What’s wrong with that? Do you not like it? Like I said, you can add things if you want. But, it would be nice if you let me know before you did. This is really the perfect plan and exactly what I want for my baby.”
Jiyoon huffs, her bottom lip poking out as she frowns at you shaking your head slowly. 
“No epidural?”
“I’ve read that they can have some complications. Do you really want to take that risk?”
You poke the paper, your finger jabbing at one of the other things listed. “You want Dani in the room? She and I aren’t even friends.”
“Well, she’s my friend. It’s not like she’s going to be all up in your vagina. She’ll just be there to support me.”
“Support you?! Jiyoon, I get that this would be a special day for you, but I’ll be the one giving birth—which I see here you have it listed that you want me to try and get induced two weeks early? Why would I do that? My doctor says the only time we would want to induce early is if something is going on or, in some cases, of gestational diabetes, and my glucose test isn’t for another month.”
Jiyoon looks at you like you just grew a second head. “I thought I was doing you a favor!”
“Jiyoon, this isn’t doing me a favor. T-this…this isn’t a favor. This is you trying to control things that should at least be something we both consider. What if I don’t want any of this? Shouldn’t what I want matter, too?”
This has to be a joke.
“I thought what you wanted was to have a baby for me?”
You push back from your desk, tired of literally sitting here and taking this. “You could have talked to me about this. But it sounds like you’re not wanting to give me a choice. You said I could add things, not that I could take them away, too. Is that it?”
“Look, there’s a certain way I want my son to be brought into this world! Is that so bad? You’re acting like I’m asking you to do something insane.”
The heat licking its way across your cheeks is a product of pure anger. Maybe you shouldn’t be getting this bent out of shape over this. Jiyoon seems to have the best intentions with her list, but you can’t help but think that not once in this entire process has she asked what you want. In the beginning, you were constantly trying to talk to her and include her. Even if it was just a text message since she was so busy. Yet, she hasn’t once returned that in kind. Now this? You can’t do it.
“Ladies, is everything okay?” Namjoon’s baritone breaks through the silence that had fallen between you and Jiyoon.
You only realize now that the entire office is quiet, listening to you and Jiyoon volley words back and forth. A few throats clear, and people resume pretending to ignore the two of you, but it’s clear anyone within a twenty-foot radius was just eavesdropping in on the drama.
“It’s fine, Namjoon,” you say, meeting his eyes before turning back to Jiyoon. “Maybe we can talk more about this when we’re not at work?”
Jiyoon purses her lips, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she nods. “Sure, yeah. We can do that.”
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No further opportunity presents itself for you and Jiyoon to talk. Not today, at least. It also could be that you weren’t exactly looking for an opportunity to do so. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about that stupid list.
Even now, you clutch it in one of your hands as you unlock your apartment door with the other. You don’t necessarily want to cry to Jungkook about it, more just have a conversation with him. Find out whether or not he’s aware of everything Jiyoon wants to impose on you.
Because that’s exactly what it is, what it feels like. This isn’t a birth plan, it’s a list of demands that do not take your wants or needs into consideration in the slightest.
“Everything okay?” Jungkook’s voice breaks through your mental tirade.
You stop in your tracks, eyes snapping up to meet his. Jungkook is standing in your living room, a small pile of laundry sitting on the couch that he seems to be in the middle of folding.
It takes you a moment to decide how to answer him. All the while, his eyes remain open and vulnerable on yours. You chew your lip, feeling angry tears prick at the backs of your eyes.
“No.”
The moment that word is out of your mouth, tears follow it, coursing down your cheeks in hot, twin streaks. Jungkook abandons the shirt in his hands and crosses the living room to you in an instant. His hands land on your shoulders, and his eyes flick over your face and body, searching for signs of anything physically wrong.
“Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Your fist tightens around the list before you hold it up and offer it to him. “Have you seen this?”
Jungkook takes the sheaf of paper and quickly scans the first page before flipping through the others. “A birth plan? Did you make this?”
“Jiyoon did. Apparently, these are the things she wants—no, demands—for when I give birth.”
“What?” His eyes come up to meet yours. “Some of this stuff is kind of…I don’t know, like this,” he says, pointing to the fifth bullet on the page. “Getting induced two weeks early? Shouldn’t that be a decision your doctor talks to you about? Also, support persons who are allowed in the room. I can understand Jiyoon and me, maybe her parents, sure. But Dani? I didn’t even think you and Dani were friends like that.”
“Because we’re not. This entire list is everything she wants, her support people, her wishes for how things go, and not once has she asked me what I want.” Your voice rises in pitch as you plow on, “I guess it doesn’t matter, though, does it? Because, as she’s made it clear, it’s not my baby, after all.”
Jungkook shakes his head, a muscle along his jaw ticking as he presses his lips into a thin line. “Don’t say it like that. You matter. This matters. You need bodily autonomy over a lot of these decisions. And if you don’t want someone in the room, they won’t be. If you want an epidural, as long as the doctor says it’s okay, then it’s okay. That’s what’s important. What you want and what the doctor says is okay. I’m sorry she did this. I’ll talk to her about it.”
“Because you’re going home, right?” You don’t mean to sound so sad when you say it, but it slips out before you can control your emotions. Maybe it’s the hormones, but the swinging from hot to cold makes you want to scream. You’re usually such a well-collected person.
“I—” Jungkook hesitates, his eyes searching yours “—I need to. What Jiyoon did isn’t right, and going home isn’t me accepting her apology and forgiving her. But I can’t keep sleeping on your couch. I’m going to stay in our guest room as I work through the mess inside my head.”
You know he can hear the resignation in your voice. “Okay, if that’s what you think is best.”
“I think I do. But…there is only one way to be certain, right? Clearly things have been coming to a head between Jiyoon and me for a while now. I’m sorry you’re now in the middle of this. That’s the last thing I wanted when I asked you to be our surrogate. I can’t say that enough, this was never how it was supposed to be.” To your surprise, Jungkook slowly wraps his arms around you. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, Jungkook, that’s okay. Thank you.”
“I promise I’m going to talk to Jiyoon about that birthing plan. It’s unacceptable. You matter, okay? You’re important.”
Maybe to him, you are. But to Jiyoon? You’ve never been more unsure of where you stand. The friend you once knew is not the same woman who has been parading around in the guise of your best friend. You’re not sure who she is anymore…or if you want to give her your baby.
“And Jungkook?” you say as he turns away to go back to his laundry. “Be careful, okay?” You allow yourself a moment of vulnerability, brushing your fingers across the cut of his jaw, where just a week ago, there rested another reason for your uncertainty.
Your heart stutters in your chest at his small nod of acknowledgement. A truth, one you had hoped would remain speculation, reflects in his wide, doe eyes. An uncertainty now confirmed, another crack in the foundation…you’ve never been more scared to shatter.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
Moving back home might have been a mistake. Jiyoon is clingier than ever, but it’s not in a way that feels natural to Jungkook. He once found so much joy in her tender affection and gentle touches. Now, however, he can’t help but pull away, giving her as polite a smile as he can.
There is something that has been bothering him that he can’t seem to make sense of. Ever since he moved back home a week ago, Jiyoon has completely and utterly changed her tune. Not once has she said a biting remark or yelled at him. Not that he’s complaining, per se. It’s just completely thrown him, he’s not sure how to process it. She’s almost being too nice.
Hell, she even gracefully accepted his explanation as to why the birthing plan she made was unacceptable. Jungkook tried to keep a level head when you showed him that ridiculous list, but he was so mad he could hardly think. The only thing that kept him from losing his mind was the fact he knew you needed him more than he needed to be mad. He’s still not sure what the hell Jiyoon was thinking when she made it. But, she didn’t so much as try to counter his argument when he confronted her about it. She just agreed with him and promised she’d make it right with you.
That’s another thing he can’t seem to stop thinking about. You’ve also been different the last week, only in the opposite way Jiyoon has. You’ve not berated him, but you’ve suddenly become more standoffish and distant. Maybe it’s because he’s not spending every night eating dinner with you or watching movies while he massages your feet, but even before all that you were warmer than you are now.
Which is why he’s trying to corner Taehyung right now before he goes back for hair and makeup. He needs to talk to someone who is relatively unbiased and can maybe help him sort his thoughts properly.
“Taehyung, hey, wait up a second.”
“Yo, JK, what’s up?” Taehyung spins on his heel, catching himself on the doorframe to the dressing room.
“Can we talk for a minute?”
Taehyung pokes his head inside the room, and Jungkook can hear his muffled voice as he talks to the staff. “Yep, it’ll just take a moment. I promise I won’t touch the clip,” he says, turning back towards Jungkook. “You’ve got me for ten minutes.”
Jungkook lets out a breath of relief. He feels like he might explode if he doesn’t get all of this off his chest soon. Taehyung is already wearing a dark pin-stripped suit with a deep v and no shirt underneath. A gold chain and pendant sit perfectly in the open front, complementing the ochre thick-strapped sandals on his feet. There is a small hairpin holding the front of his hair into a suave coif that he, despite saying he wouldn’t, pokes at before following Jungkook to a small seating area across the space.
They’re shooting at an old estate today, styling and posing for various fashion items. Jungkook already went through hair and makeup and his first round of photos. He’s just waiting now for his wardrobe change and his cue to be back with the photographer.
“Do you think it was a bad idea for me to have gone back home?”
Taehyung taps his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Why are you asking?”
“I…I don’t know.” And that’s the truth of it. “Things just have been weird since we had that one big argument. It’s like no matter what I do or tell myself, she makes me feel like I’m walking on eggshells.”
“Or is it that you realize you might have enjoyed staying with a certain manager more than you thought you would?” Taehyung raises a brow, and Jungkook scowls at him.
“Don’t even start on that. Of course I would feel comfortable there. It wasn’t a hostile environment.”
“So you agree that the environment where Jiyoon is concerned is a hostile one.”
“That’s not what I said,” Jungkook groans. “Is it?”
“Sounds like it to me.” Taehyung shrugs. Jungkook values Taehyung for his brutal honesty, so instead of insisting his friend stop, he lets him continue. “Look, you know I love you and just want you to be happy. But, if Jiyoon is telling the truth and that baby is yours, then you have two kids coming into this world, and you really need to get your shit figured out.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do, JK. Those babies aren’t going to wait for you to get your shit together. They’re coming in a matter of weeks, whether you’ve got it all figured out or not. I know you and Jiyoon have had a long go at it. You’ve been together for longer than anyone else we know. But, you need to ask yourself if she is the kind of mother you want for your kids. And before you insist she is, I want you to truly think about everything that has transpired. I mean, look at what she said about you and someone who is supposedly her best friend. Someone doesn’t just say that shit because they’re mad. They sure as hell shouldn’t hit anyone because of it, either. There is something going on with Jiyoon—” he taps the side of his head “—up here. And there isn’t a single person who wouldn’t agree that no kid deserves to be brought into a volatile environment. I know that’s not what you had envisioned when you first brought up wanting to have a family.”
“You’re right. But…there’s something else. Something that is maybe making all of this so much worse.”
Jungkook’s knee bounces, nerves wholly consuming him as he prepares to tell Taehyung something he’s only thought about until now. He’s been worried that if he put words to it then it would make it real, but he knows it already is.
Taehyung grins knowingly, the curve of his lips soft and not as teasing as it might usually be. “This should be good. Let’s hear it.”
Your name comes out in a hushed whisper. “I feel like she’s been avoiding me, and it’s driving me crazy. Ever since I went back home, she’s been so distant. I’m worried that she’s upset or something.”
“Well, there is this thing we like to call communication. Have you tried it?”
Jungkook rubs his hands over his face, heedless of messing up his makeup. “I have tried, but it seems like the only thing she wants to talk about is work or baby appointments. It’s like she’s fully in surrogate mode, and that’s all I get.”
“And do you want more?” Taehyung asks, clearly probing to help Jungkook process his thoughts.
“I want her—I want…I don’t know. I care about her. I want her to at least act like my friend,” Jungkook says lamely. Because if there is one thing he’s not sure he’s ready to touch with a twenty-foot pole, it’s the complicated feelings he’s trying to figure out when it comes to you—feelings he’s not sure are real or just a trauma-coping mechanism resulting from his discourse with Jiyoon.
Taehyung claps Jungkook on the shoulder as he stands up. “I need to get in there, but maybe you should ask her to meet up with you. Something strictly not work-related. Maybe get ice cream, or whatever it is pregnant women crave these days. See if you can sus out some more of those feelings I know you got clanging around in there.” His hand moves up from Jungkook’s shoulder to poke the side of his head. “Get all those thoughts out in the open before you go crazy, my friend.”
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You agree to meet him for ice cream the next day, provided Jungkook agrees to make an appointment to get new headshots done. With the haircut he got weeks back, it’s needed anyway, so it was easy to accept.
The weather is warming up, and it feels good standing in the sun. It’s been so long since Jungkook allowed himself a moment to breathe and enjoy something so mundane, like the feeling of the sun warming his cheeks.
He’s waiting outside the small walk-up ice cream shop that’s situated in the middle of the park. You agreed to meet him here before an appointment you have with Taehyung. He’s working on some cover spread for a magazine or something like that.
“Sun’s nice, huh?”
Jungkook’s eyes pop open, and he glances back over his shoulder. The sight of you would bring any man to his knees, Jungkook thinks, his own legs giving a little wobble. The floral sundress paired with the sage cardigan Jungkook bought you makes you look like you just stepped off the pages of a romance novel. The wind catches a few stray lengths of your hair and tosses it across your face, drawing Jungkook’s attention to your smile.
“You’re beautiful. Um, I mean, the sun. It’s beautiful. Such a nice day out. Perfect for ice cream.”
You press your fingers against your lips, suppressing a giggle that Jungkook wishes you’d let him hear. “Shall we?” Those same fingers flick in the direction of the ice cream shop.
Jungkook leads the way to the window. “Mint chocolate chip? Cookies and cream?” he asks, trying to think of the different ice cream flavors he’s seen in your freezer.
“Mmm,” you hum, your hand resting over your belly in an absentminded fashion. “I actually think I want a strawberry bungeoppang ice cream.
Chuckling, Jungkook nods. “You read my mind.” He orders two of the fish-shaped ice creams and opens one of the packages before handing it to you.
“I haven’t had one of these in forever,” you say, taking a bite and making a sound of delight.
“Really? That’s sad,” Jungkook teases. “Next time I’m at the grocery store, I’ll grab you a box.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” There is a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as you glance sideways at Jungkook and he wants to capture this moment and never let it go.
So, he does just that, slipping his phone from his pocket and snapping a picture.
The smile slowly disappears from your face. “What?” he asks, looking at you over the top edge of his screen.
“Why are you doing that?”
Jungkook takes another photo, this one with your face more stoic but your eyes no less full of emotion. You don’t exactly look sad, but there is a hint of sadness there, drifting along with the uncertainty in your eyes.
Jungkook looks down at his phone, ice cream forgotten in his other hand. “Because these are important moments that I want to share with my son one day.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Jungkook nods to a park bench. “Of course. Want to sit?”
It feels like forever passes in silence. You sit there and nibble at your ice cream, and Jungkook finally opens his and finishes it in three bites, not wanting to have any sort of distraction. This is supposed to be his time to talk to you, to see what’s going on and figure out why you’ve been acting so weird toward him. He hopes that’s what you want to ask him about.
“What’s going to happen after?”
“After?”
“Once the baby is born. Then what? When I first agreed to do this, the only thing I thought about was the happiness it would bring to you and Jiyoon. But—but the further along this goes, the more shit that happens…the more I can’t stop thinking about how hard it’s going to be to give him up. And I know that’s probably the last thing you want to hear, and please, I swear I’m not going to change my mind about giving you the baby. But, I don’t know that I really thought about the fact that I’m going to be growing a life, spending almost ten months loving this life, to then give them away and pretend like nothing happened.”
“Is that what you think? That as soon as we have the baby, we’re just going to pretend like nothing happened? Is that why you’ve been so withdrawn lately?” Jungkook turns on the bench, drawing one of his knees up so he can look at you fully. “That is not going to happen. This baby, my son, is going to know who you are and what you did for him.”
He can tell you don’t really believe that. “No offense, Jungkook, but I don’t exactly see Jiyoon being okay with that. There’s something going on with her lately, and I don’t even know if our friendship is going to survive this.”
Jungkook takes a deep breath. “We’ll make it all work out. I know we can. You guys have been friends for practically your entire lives. This is just a bump in the road, right? We’ll figure it out, together…all three of us. And, um, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about, too. Now that we’re on the subject of the babies and what comes after.”
“What is it?” You put the last bite of your bungeoppang in your mouth and chew it slowly as you wait for him to continue.
Maybe he’s jumping the gun in this, but he thinks it might help you with what you’re feeling right now. And besides, he has talked to Jiyoon about it, and even if she was adamantly against it, he’s certain she’ll come around eventually.
“How would you feel about being the babies’ guardian? Like if something were to ever happen to me or Jiyoon, they would both come to you. If you’d want that, that is. I know two kids would be a lot for someone to take on, but I think if I could choose anyone to raise my kids if I couldn’t, it would be you. You’re already doing such a good job with my son,” Jungkook says with a loving inflection in his tone.
“You mean that?”
“Of course I do.”
And no matter what, he’ll make that happen because the smile that’s now gracing your face is worth any amount of arguing with Jiyoon over it. You deserve so much more from this whole fucked up situation.
💔💔💔
“You look like you could use a hug.” Taehyung startles you with an arm across your shoulders, giving you half of said hug. “What’s got you looking so blue, boss?”
You hurried from your impromptu ice cream meetup with Jungkook and went straight to the spread shoot for Taehyung, meaning you haven’t had much time to process everything Jungkook said.
“There aren’t enough minutes left in the day to even begin,” you mutter, vigorously clicking through files on your tablet. “This agreement is a fucking mile long. How do they expect me to read it all and get it back to them in a timely manner?”
“‘Fucking’?” Taehyung says, amused. “Something must be up if you’re dropping words like that. Come on, we have a few minutes, you can at least give me the footnotes. My agreement with that cologne brand can wait.” His long fingers pinch the tablet from your hands and bring it to rest against his chest. “Out with it.”
You twist your fingers in the skirt of your dress as you try to decide where to begin. Taehyung isn’t just your client. You consider him a friend as well. And maybe getting an outside perspective is exactly what you need right now.
“Do you think I’m crazy for doing this?” you ask, moving one of your hands to rest over your belly. “You’re the one that brought it up, to begin with, after all.” You add on that last part, recalling the night of your birthday when Taehyung instigated the entire surrogacy conversation.
Taehyung winces. “I did do that, didn’t I? As far as you being crazy? No, I wouldn’t say crazy. Maybe just far too kind for your own good. If I had known you’d actually go along with it, I might not have brought it up that night.”
“Really?”
“Mmhm,” he makes an agreeable sound. “Do you feel crazy?”
You let out a nervous laugh. “Understatement of the year. I feel like I’m losing it, I have no idea what I’m doing…how I ended up six months pregnant with not a clue what the future holds and feelings I can’t—” You cut yourself off before you say something you’re going to regret.
“Feelings?” Taehyung prods, not letting you get away with that near slip-up.
“It doesn’t matter. Just drop it.”
Taehyung raises a hand. “No, no. You can’t say that and then not explain. I promise you’ll feel better once it’s out in the open.”
“I don’t know about that. Feelings are messy and have never done me any good anyway.” You take your tablet back from Taehyung. “I need to get this offer submitted and you’ll be needed back on set soon.”
“Feelings may be messy, but they are valid. Don’t keep them hidden away in that pretty head of yours. That’ll do nobody any good.”
You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth before forcing yourself to let it go, along with the hold on your emotions. “These feelings won’t do anyone any good, Taehyung. Because they’re feelings that can’t mean anything. Not without completely destroying everything.”
There is a moment where Taehyung considers you, his eyes flicking over your figure before landing back on your eyes. All you see there is empathy and understanding.
“This is about Jungkook, isn’t it?”
It’s not worth the effort to argue with Taehyung or convince him otherwise. So, you shrug. “Is it that obvious?”
“As obvious as it is that he shares the same sentiment.”
“Don’t be crazy,” you laugh. “That’s not—”
“That’s not as crazy as you think it is. You’ve both always danced around one another, even back before Jiyoon came into the picture.”
“But, she did, and that’s what matters, Taehyung. Now, forget about this nonsense and keep your mouth shut, okay? Get back to makeup, you smudged your eyeliner.”
As Taehyung walks away, you can’t shake what he said. Jungkook is feeling as conflicted as you are? That’s not possible. He moved back home so he and Jiyoon could work things out. There is no room for you and what’s going on in your head in that equation. You might be on the outs with Jiyoon, but that doesn’t give you the right to let your ‘feelings’ get in the way of Jungkook’s happiness.
Right?
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You puff out your cheeks, trying not to voice another complaint as you follow along the dirt path behind Jungkook. He wouldn’t tell you more than to meet him at the park and wear something cute. So, here you are, another day and in another sundress, this one a solid turquoise color with a scalloped neckline.
“How much farther are we going? I’m six months pregnant, and if I walk much farther, you’re going to owe me a foot massage.”
Jungkook laughs, tossing a look of pure carefree delight over his shoulder at you. “I promise it’s not much farther, just over this rise. And if you want a foot massage, all you have to do is ask.”
“You’ll owe me two, then,” you grumble to yourself.
All your complaints dry to dust on your tongue as you finally crest the top of the rise in the path, coming to stand beside Jungkook. Spread out before you is an entire field of wildflowers. All of varying colors, their stalks long and willowy in the light breeze blowing off the ocean beyond.
The deep blue water laps and kisses at the distant shoreline, the roar of the surf soft from this distance. It’s a breathtaking sight, the sun bright and warm overhead, glittering along the glassy surface before scattering into a dance as the waves break on the golden sand. The wildflowers wave in the wind as if to cheer on the waves’ dance of the tides.
“Do you want that foot massage now or later? Jungkook asks, his voice soft with his own awe.
You turn to him, forcing your eyes away from one dazzling sight to focus on another. His hair feathers across his forehead, tossed about by the intermittent ocean breeze. A hint of salt licks along your senses, carrying with it the soft, fragrant notes of the wildflowers.
“What are we doing here?”
His eyes meet yours, and his mouth tilts in a smile. “I thought it might be nice to take some pictures. If you’re okay with that, that is. Dani is planning some elaborate maternity shoot for Jiyoon this weekend, and it’s apparently girls only. She wants to do a second one with me when she’s further along. But, that doesn’t matter right now, I just thought…well, we could do a maternity shoot for you. If you want. No pressure, we can just enjoy the view if you’d rather not.”
That conversation you had with Taehyung a week ago threatens to spill out. Is Jungkook feeling as conflicted as you are right now? If you say yes to the maternity shoot, does that mean you’d rather not just spend the time with him? If you say no to the maternity shoot, does that mean you only want to spend the time with him and, therefore, might be crossing some sort of invisible line in the sand?
Is it possible to do both? You wait for the wave of guilt to hit at having such a thought about Jiyoon’s husband. But, it doesn’t come. If anything, you feel a light giddiness at the fact Jungkook thought of all of this for you.
“We can always take some photos and then enjoy the view?” you offer, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.
Jungkook swings the bag he was carrying off his shoulder. “I think my view will be good either way,” he counters with a pleasant, teasing tone.
Did he just call you a good view? You try to not let that go to your head. Clearly, he’s just being polite to the woman carrying one of his babies.
“Sure,” you laugh, playing it off. “What do you want me to do?”
He pulls out a large DSLR camera and a tripod which he sets on the ground beside his bag. “Just act natural. Pretend the camera isn’t here.” You catch his smirk behind the camera before you roll your eyes, trying to suppress your own smile. The sound of the shutter clicks, and you try to push everything else out of your mind.
Jungkook moves like a natural with the camera, crouching and turning this way and that in order to capture the best angles as he follows you through the meadow of wildflowers, the ocean at your side in the distance.
“The golden hour is coming.” You glance back at him over your shoulder and see the absolute adoration in his eyes as you know the sun is silhouetting your body, accentuating your bump. The shutter clicks in quick succession.
Jungkook lowers the camera, and the adoration that was there moments ago turns into what you can only describe as uncertainty. “Would you be okay taking some with me?”
“Like, with you in them?”
“Yeah, but only if you’re comfortable with that.”
His consideration really knows no bounds. “Of course, I’m okay with that. He’s your baby, after all.”
“But it’s your body,” he says pointedly. All you can do is nod, watching as he returns to his bag and retrieves the tripod.
Jungkook sets up the stand, screwing the base holder into his camera before snapping it in place atop the tripod. He plays with the angles and height before nodding to himself, satisfied.
“I didn’t realize you knew so much about photography.” It shouldn’t surprise you, but Jungkook spends most of his time in front of a camera and not behind one, so it never clicked before.
He approaches you. The casual white button-down he is wearing open over a light blue tank top is a nice coincidence—a perfect match to your dress. At least, you think it’s a coincidence. It’s not like Jungkook knew you were going to wear this dress today. He plucks one of the wildflowers before tucking it in behind your ear, the feather-soft petals tickling your temple.
“I guess you can add it to my list of secret talents.”
“Just how many hidden talents do you have?” One of your brows rises, and a cheeky smile slants your lips.
His eyes hold yours as he sinks down to his knees in front of you, causing your smile to slip and your teasing cheek to be replaced with mild alarm.
“They wouldn’t be secret if I shared them all with you just yet.” One of his hands comes up to cup the side of your belly. “Is this okay?” he asks, completely throwing you off with the sudden change in subject.
You have to work your tongue inside your mouth to gather enough moisture so you can swallow before answering. “That’s fine.”
“Relax. Act natural, remember?”
Sure. Only there’s nothing natural about what’s happening. No matter where you stand with Jiyoon right now, you know for a guaranteed fact that she would have a problem with this. The way Jungkook looks like he’s worshipping at your feet, the fervent love shining in his eyes as they trace the contours of your belly.
You clear your throat. “Do you have the camera on a timer?”
“It’s set to take a photo every few seconds for the next ten minutes. Tell me if any of this makes you uncomfortable.” 
His other hand presses to the other side of your belly, and his forehead comes to rest right below your navel. “It’s not uncom—oh,” you laugh, the action shaking your body slightly.
Jungkook peers up at you with eyes wider than you’ve ever seen before. “Was that…what I think it was?” The bump comes again, and he snaps his eyes to your belly, his mouth forming a giant smile. “It was, wasn’t it?”
“He’s saying hi to his father,” you murmur softly, heart melting at the pure elation on Jungkook’s face.
“Hi, baby,” Jungkook coos, and the little one moves again, making you mirror Jungkook’s smile. Your heart jerks in your chest when Jungkook presses his lips to your belly, planting a kiss where his forehead once rested.
You know it’s probably wrong, and you should ask him to stop, but you can’t bring yourself to break this spell—not yet, at least. If this is something you can give Jungkook, then you’ll let him have it. It’s not like anyone else is going to see these photos, anyway. This pregnancy isn’t really yours to celebrate, not like this.
But you decide to enjoy it for as long as you can—your own private celebration. Jungkook might not belong to you, and that’s something you accepted a long time ago, but these moments will be yours to hold forever—even if the baby won’t be.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
The weeks following moving back in have Jungkook questioning so much about his life. Maybe it’s just the raw vulnerability of what happened between him and Jiyoon, but Jungkook feels like he’s been living on the edge of sanity. Even if it was a lie, it still planted a small seed of doubt in his mind. One that he whole-heartedly feels guilty for and wishes would go the fuck away.
He blames it for the way he eyes Jiyoon’s phone any time it chimes or the way he’s tempted to pick it up when she’s in the shower. It’s not that he wants to go through it, not really…only, actually, he does. He wants to give himself assurances, confirm that there is nothing on there that she’s hiding.
Jungkook knows Jiyoon has many clients who constantly need her attention. It’s no different than you; he knows that. You seem to always be getting a stream of messages, emails, or phone calls whenever he’s around you. That’s just part of the job. Yet…yet, Jungkook can’t seem to shake the desire to just check, to be certain.
It doesn’t help that he’s caught Jiyoon on the phone in the middle of the night. He never let her know he saw her or heard her girlish giggles. But each instance has only added to his mounting paranoia, to the point that he does what he’s promised himself he’d never do.
He looks through her phone.
And the guilt that consumes him tenfold when he finds nothing incriminating at all has him knocking on the door across the hall in an effort not to lose his mind completely.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” Jimin answers the door in a pair of low-slung silk pants and no shirt. His hair is mussed, but if the equally shirtless man standing behind him is any indicator, it’s not from sleep.
“Is Taehyung here?”
Jimin gestures for Jungkook to come in. “Yeah, he’s in his studio. This is my friend, Hoseok. Hoseok, this is Jungkook. He’s one of the OG models from Kim Exclusives.”
“How’s it going?” Hoseok says, a smirk tugging at his lips as Jimin palms his hip.
Jungkook just nods, skirting around them and heading down the hall to Taehyung's studio. It’s one of the spare rooms turned into an art space where Taehyung likes to lose himself in his spare time.
After a few moments, his knock on the door is answered. Taehyung is wearing a linen smock, the front of which is splattered with paint of varying degrees of drying.
“Jungkook.” Taehyung’s brow pinches. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m about to go fucking crazy is what I’m doing here.”
Giving him a once over, Taehyung lets Jungkook into the room and flicks his hand at an empty stool. “I should start charging you by the hour. What’s the going rate of therapists these days?”
“I’ll buy you one of those fancy bottles of soju that you like so much,” Jungkook sighs, dropping onto the hard surface of the stool.
“Deal. Now, out with it, before you ruin my groove here.”
Taehyung sprawls out on a worn-out leather chaise, the edges cracked and dappled in paint. His eyes remain on Jungkook. Despite looking like he could care less, Jungkook knows Taehyung is being attentive, and a better friend than he probably deserves.
“I think something is going on with Jiyoon.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure if it’s just my paranoia because of what she said all those weeks ago, or if I’m just seeing things where I want to see them and turning innocent shit into malicious things…I feel like I’m going insane.”
“Continue,” Taehyung encourages, making a ‘come on’ motion with his hand.
Jungkook takes a slow breath, using the moment to collect his thoughts. “I’ve found Jiyoon on the phone at weird hours, in the middle of the night. I would think she’s just talking to a client, and maybe she is, but the way she giggles and talks…it just sounds like, fuck, like the way she used to talk to me. And I know that sounds insane, and I’m probably making something out of nothing, but it’s just so weird. Maybe I never noticed it before, but it’s happening all the time.”
“Hmm.” Taehyung makes a thoughtful sound before gesturing for Jungkook to keep going.
“Her phone is constantly going off, and I keep seeing the same name pop up: Dohyun Kim. I know he’s an actor, and he’s contracted under Kim Exclusives, but I don’t know much else. I’m not really part of the actor's circle. And he could be her client. In fact, I’m pretty sure he is. I just…why is she on the phone with him at 2 AM giggling like she has a crush?”
“Is that all that’s bothering you?” Taehyung asks in a way that tells Jungkook he wants to hear everything before giving his opinion or any advice.
Jungkook rubs the heels of his palms over his eyes before giving Taehyung a tired look. “No,” he says so softly that Taehyung has to lean forward to hear him. “I’ve been experiencing these feelings…and it makes me feel like such a hypocrite. I’m such a fucking asshole, worried that Jiyoon is lying to me when I might as well be lying to her.”
“About?” Taehyung prompts.
“I can’t stop thinking about her,” Jungkook confesses, his voice even softer than before.
“A certain manager who is carrying your baby?”
“Yeah. Dammit, Taehyung. What am I doing? I’m married, for fucks sake!”
Taehyung leans back and crosses an ankle over his knee. “You realize you’re just human, right? You just spent several days thinking the woman you’ve been in love with and shared a life with for over six years had betrayed you. Even if it was a lie, that shit still hurts and is going to leave a lasting mark, man. You can’t be expected to simply shrug it off and continue like life is normal. Your life is anything but normal. For one, your wife, who supposedly has been unable to have kids for years, suddenly pops up pregnant just weeks after you impregnate her best friend. I don’t know about you, Jungkook, and I’m no genius with numbers, but the math isn’t mathing. And for two, it doesn’t surprise me if you’re feeling a bit more connected to the one woman who hasn’t lied to you about a baby.”
“Jiyoon didn’t lie, though—”
Taehyung cuts off Jungkook’s rebuttal. “She did lie. At least, if the baby is yours, then what she said about it not being was a lie, right?”
Jungkook presses his lips into a thin line because he can’t argue with that. Technically it was a lie, if…
“What do you mean ‘if the baby is mine’?”
Leaning forward, Taehyung drops his foot back to the floor and rests his elbows on his knees. “I’m going to say this in the nicest way I possibly can. Married women don’t giggle on the phone with a client at 2 AM. If she’s on the phone with her mom, sure. Her sister? Absolutely. Dani? I’d believe it. But, if you’re telling me she’s on the phone giggling with Dohyun Kim, a client, at 2 AM…I’d say it sounds like you have a problem.”
Cold chills pop up along Jungkook’s arms and down the back of his neck. “Okay,” he says slowly, trying to let his brain process everything Taehyung just said.
“And then there is the issue with your boss,” Taehyung continues as if he didn’t just drop a bomb of realization on Jungkook. “You’re clearly into her, and don’t give me that look. You’re acting the same way you did when you first got signed on with Kim Exclusives. In case you’ve forgotten, you were so smitten with your new manager that you made the rookie mistake of talking to her boss about your crush and nearly got released from your contract. It was only because Namjoon added Jiyoon to your management profile that you were allowed to stay on with them. Jiyoon knew you had a thing for her friend, so she did her best to weasel her way into your heart. Perhaps she wasn’t as successful as she might have thought, it seems.” Taehyung’s eyes flick over Jungkook in silent appraisal. “Yeah, not all that successful at all. Looks like you got a lot to think about, my friend.”
Sighing, Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “You know, I came over here to get your help, not have you complicate it even more.”
“It doesn’t seem all that complicated if you ask me. In fact, it all seems pretty clear to me…you just have to want to see it.”
That’s it, though, isn’t it? Jungkook is afraid he already can see it…the light you provide reveals a lot about the darkness he’s been blinded by. He can’t help but think back to the night he held your hand as you lay there on your bathroom floor, having just done one of the most selfless things any one person could do for another.
Some might say that’s a different kind of love, a different kind of affection…but what if it isn’t? What if it was just pulling back the curtain on something that was always meant to be?
💔💔💔
A shadow falls across your desk, causing you to pause in responding to the text message you just received from Jungkook confirming that he’ll be able to attend your thirty-week appointment that’s coming up.
You look up, meeting the cold gaze of your once best friend. Things have been cordial between you and Jiyoon, but neither of you has exactly made much of an effort to actually patch things up. If it wasn’t for Jungkook—if it wasn’t for the baby in your belly that’s growing for her—you’d probably have washed yourself of her friendship completely.
The conversation you had with Jungkook last night still hangs over you like a raincloud. You talked about the legal papers that you’ve yet to sign. The ones that would give all legal rights over to Jungkook and Jiyoon. He wants you to wait to sign them only after the baby is born, just in case. Just in case of what, he didn’t elaborate on. But, it’s becoming clearer to you that despite Jungkook attempting to mend their relationship, not everything is as pretty as it may seem on the outside when it comes to them.
“Is there something I can do for you?” you ask, setting your phone down on your desk. Jiyoon’s eyes follow the device, narrowing slightly before you click the power button to turn off the display. Maybe it was a mistake to make your phone background one of the few maternity photos Jungkook sent you as a taste of what was to come, the rest waiting for him to finish editing them.
You expect her to comment on the photo, but instead, she asks, “Are you really having a baby shower?”
“What are you talking about?”
“What’s this?” she asks, handing you a small folded card.
You take it. It’s white on the back and blue on the front with a small carriage with a bear inside of it. At the top, in silver lettering, it says ‘Join Us’. The inside boasts a small message with a time and date.
While you don’t want to throw Jungkook under the bus on this one, it was technically his idea. You tell Jiyoon as much. “Jungkook thought it would be a good idea. Just some clients and close friends—”
“But, what do you need a baby shower for? It’s not even your baby.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “You act like I’m not aware of that. You realize that anything I get is going to be for the baby, regardless of where he ends up living. But, this isn’t even really a baby shower—” you shake the folded invitation “—it’s just a pregnancy shower. As in, an opportunity for people to maybe gift me the things I’m going to need during recovery after I have him.”
Anger twists her lips, and her nostrils flare as she stares down at you. “You didn’t think to maybe include me in this?”
Shoving the invitation back at her, you throw your hands up. “I’m not the one who planned it. Take that up with your husband, Jiyoon. This was all his idea. So, if you want to squawk and fume at someone, it’s not me. Now, if you please, I have some work to do.”
“Sure, okay. Blame Jungkook for this. That’s so like you, putting the blame off on someone else.”
Jiyoon takes a startled step backward as you shoot up from your seat. “You need to back off and leave me alone.”
Not wanting to face this any longer, for the good of your own mental health, you skirt around her and head to the breakroom. You occupy your hands by mixing a flavor packet into a bottle of water you grab from the fridge.
You should have known better, though, that you could escape this without actually leaving the entire building because you feel her presence behind you before her words slice right into your soul.
“I’ll back off when you stop trying to make everything about you! You don’t need a party for people to bring you things. You’re just using my baby to fill the void in your life. I knew it from the day you agreed to this nonsense with Jungkook. You’re so desperate for something that you were willing to get fucking pregnant, by my husband…do you realize how stupid that is? You’re a fucking joke, and I can’t wait for you to have that baby so I can make sure he’s not raised by some pathetic little girl.”
The ringing in your ears intensifies as seconds pass, stretching the silence in the breakroom. Dani’s tittering laugh breaks the dam holding back your tears as she saunters into the room.
“Aw, Jiyoon, you made her cry.” Dani’s words follow you out the door and to the elevator.
You barely register passing by Taehyung as you enter the elevator. His eyes meet yours, and you see his lips moving, but the door closes before your brain can comprehend what he may have said.
This is it, the moment you’ve been trying to avoid for so long—the moment you shatter into oblivion.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
Taehyung said it was an emergency, and that Jungkook needed to meet with him immediately when he called a few minutes ago. Jimin let Jungkook into their condo, and now he’s waiting for Taehyung in his studio. There wasn’t much Taehyung would say over the phone, but by the tone of his voice, Jungkook knows it’s bad.
Jungkook is tempted to text you again, just to check in to see how you’re doing and if you’re free after work, even though he texted you only an hour or so ago. He finished editing the maternity photos this morning, and he’s excited to show them to you. But he’s waiting for the right time to do that. Jiyoon texted him not long ago to let him know that she’ll be home for dinner, but maybe if he plays his cards right, he can meet with you before that.
Just as he pulls out his phone to send you the text, the studio door swings open, and a wild-eyed Taehyung storms in, chest huffing.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Jungkook asks, standing up from the stool he was sitting on.
“Nope, sit back down. You need to be seated for this. Fucking hell, this is a mess.” Taehyung paces in front of Jungkook, periodically gripping fistfuls of his hair, making the thick chestnut waves go wild. “I need a drink,” Taehyung mutters under his breath before making a beeline for the small bottle of bourbon he keeps tucked behind some of his paint supplies in a cabinet.
“Tae, you’re starting to scare me. What’s wrong?”
Taehyung takes a deep swill straight from the bottle before shoving it at Jungkook. “You’ll want some, too.”
Jungkook slowly takes the bottle, but instead of drinking, he sets it off to the side. “Seriously, Taehyung. What’s going on?”
Throwing his hands up, Taehyung rounds on Jungkook. “It’s your goddamn wife, JK.”
“My wife? What are you talking about?”
“Jungkook. Okay—” Taehyung rubs a hand over his mouth and drops onto the stool beside the one Jungkook is sitting on. “Look. I’m going to tell you something—I seem to be doing that a lot lately—and your first instinct is going to be to not believe me—I know that. But I really need you to listen and know that I wouldn’t be telling you this if I hadn’t heard it directly from her mouth.”
“Umm…okay.”
“Promise me that you’ll listen.”
The look of pure devastation on Taehyung’s face has Jungkook nodding. “Okay, I promise to listen.”
In a whisper so soft Jungkook isn’t sure he hears him correctly, Taehyung says, “The baby…it isn’t yours. She wasn’t lying about that, apparently.”
“You can’t be serious,” Jungkook balks, feeling instantly incensed. Though, whether his anger is at Taehyung or not, he’s not sure.
“You promised you would listen. Now, listen to me. I went by the office today after lunch, and as I was leaving, I could tell something had happened.” He sighs your name, “I passed her as I was getting off the elevator and it was clear she was upset over something. I overheard that bitch Dani laughing in the breakroom, so I went in that direction, knowing she probably had something to do with it. But…I didn’t expect—what I didn’t expect was that I’d catch the tail end of a whispered conversation between Dani and Jiyoon. Their heads were pressed together, but Dani’s big mouth is loud even when she’s whispering. She was asking Jiyoon if she had told that fucker Dohyun that the baby was his or not. From what I could piece together from the rest of what I heard, Jiyoon’s baby is his, but he doesn’t want anything to do with it because he’s married with two kids of his own already! I knew you were on to something with your suspicions, but fuck.”
Jungkook knows he should react a certain way right now. Yet, he can’t seem to muster up the anger and indignation that should be swallowing him whole. If anything…if anything, what he feels is something akin to relief. He can’t help but wonder if that makes him a bad person.
If Taehyung had told him this months ago, Jungkook would have probably punched his best friend in the face and called him every name in the book. But now—he almost feels numb when he considers the fact that Jiyoon was telling the truth a few weeks ago. Maybe it’s because he used up all of his anger and resentment then that there is none left now, when it seems to matter the most.
It doesn’t help that Jungkook’s felt like he was on the outside looking in ever since he moved back home. Jiyoon might have been overly enthusiastic, but she was still firmly on the other side of the invisible line that Jungkook only realizes now that he drew for himself.
“I need to go,” Jungkook says quietly.
“Hey.” Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s arm as he slips off his stool. “You call me if you need me, okay?”
“Thanks.”
Jungkook moves swiftly, almost blindly. He goes across the hall, throws some clothes in a bag, and collects his toothbrush from the bathroom before he’s on the move again.
“Hello?” At the first sound of your scratchy voice, Jungkook’s mind instantly switches gears. His problems are immediately inconsequential to whatever is ailing you.
“Where are you right now?”
You sniffle and clear your throat before answering. “I went home early. Why? Is everything okay?” You’ve been crying. Clearly, things are not okay, and Jungkook won’t be able to deal with his issues until he takes care of you first.
“No, everything is not okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Jungkook is out of breath by the time he’s knocking on your door, having sprinted from his car straight up the stairs of your building because the elevator was taking too long.
The door swings open before Jungkook can bring his knuckles forward to knock a second time. You don’t protest when he wraps his arms around you and ushers you back so he can close the door.
“You said everything wasn’t okay.” Your voice is muffled by your face pressed against his chest. “What’s going on?”
“That’s not important right now. Tell me what’s got you so upset,” Jungkook urges, releasing you just enough that you can look up and meet his worried gaze.
You shake your head, more tears finding their way onto your cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jungkook moves you over to the couch and helps you sit down, kneeling at your feet with your hands clasped in his. “Please, tell me.”
He hates the way your shoulders tremble, and every tear that tracks down your cheeks is another blow to his chest. He’s never seen you this upset before, so he knows it’s something bad…something that Jiyoon caused if what Taehyung said was any indicator. But he needs you to tell him; needs you to open up and say it.
“I don’t want to upset you,” you whisper, the words breaking Jungkook’s heart because, of course, you would try to put his feelings before your own wellbeing. You’re far too good for him, for any of them, really.
He squeezes your hands. “I promise, you can say whatever it is you need to say, and it’ll be okay.”
Jungkook listens to you, his anger and horror at such vile things growing with every confession you release. Once you finish explaining what happened at the office today, you surprise him by including other incidents that he wasn’t aware of, like that one lunch you’ve tried so hard to forget.
“I don’t know why I didn’t reach out to you then, see if you were actually going along with the whole ‘there are options’ thing. I mean, an abortion? Why the fuck would I abort this baby just because Jiyoon so happened to get pregnant. It was something I had completely forgotten about, or maybe just intentionally blocked out, until today. Fucking hell, Jungkook, she practically told me to get rid of it because it wasn’t needed since she’s pregnant…who does that? I’m sorry. I know she’s your wife, and you love her…but I can’t do this. I can’t, in good faith, have this baby and let her take him.” You begin to sob in earnest, your words turning into barely coherent pleas and apologies.
If his heart wasn’t broken before, it’s completely fissured through now. “Hey, it’s okay, “ he tries to soothe you, sliding onto the couch beside you and gathering you into his arms.
Jungkook wants to scream, rant, and rave at the world for how cruel and unfair life can be sometimes. But, mostly, he feels a deep sense of guilt in having been the one to start this whole thing. If it wasn’t for him, you’d not be pregnant right now. If it wasn’t for him, Jiyoon might not be the raging bitch she has seemingly become. Maybe…just maybe—
“Stop,” you whisper. “Stop blaming yourself, I can hear the guilt in your head. None of this is your fault, Jungkook.”
He knows that’s not true, but also that there is no sense in trying to explain how much it is his fault. The best he can do right now is try to make it hurt less. “I’ll be right back,” he tells you, soothing a hand over your hair and down your back. “Your hands are freezing, I’m going to grab a blanket.”
You nod against his shoulder and relax your arms as he pulls away. The sobs have mostly subsided, but Jungkook can tell you’re far from being okay. Not wanting to waste another moment, he disappears down the hall and into your room to retrieve some comfort items and the fuzzy blanket you keep folded over the end of your bed.
When he turns, items in hand, to go back to you, he stops just short of the doorway. The sound of a familiar voice drifts to him from down the hall. Dread pours down his spine and prickles over his skin in a thin sheen of sweat.
Jiyoon is here.
💔💔💔
“Where is he? I know he’s here!”
It’s like watching a sitcom. The timing’s far too impeccable, and all that’s missing is the background laugh track. As soon as Jungkook disappears into your room, there’s a knock on the front door. Jiyoon’s the last person you expect to be standing there. Yet, here she is, her hands firmly planted on her hips and her enraged eyes slicing you from head to toe.
“It might help if you explained who you are looking for.” You know who she means, but you can’t help being purposely obtuse out of sheer spite.
She raises her hand and jabs her forefinger in your face. “Don’t play stupid with me. You know who! Jungkook. My husband.”
You take a slow breath, your eyes barely cutting to the side and beyond Jiyoon. Jungkook is peeking through your doorway, and you know he’s about to make himself known to her. His eyes meet yours, and you shake your head subtly, hoping he understands.
“If he is your husband, then why would he be here at my home?”
Jiyoon sneers. “You think you’re so goddamn cute, don’t you? I know what the two of you have been up to. I found the proof of your little love affair on his laptop, so don’t even try me. Tell me where he is, and I won’t have to make you cry again.”
You have absolutely no idea what kind of proof Jiyoon thinks she has found, but seemingly, there is something lost in translation somewhere. “Proof? What the hell are you talking about? I’ve done nothing with your husband that you, yourself, didn’t approve of.”
“That’s hilarious,” Jiyoon laughs mockingly. “Because I never wanted any of this to happen! I never wanted fucking kids to begin with! I only went along with it because it was what Jungkook wanted, and I knew he’d leave me if I told him the truth!” Her voice comes out loud and shrill, the words taking you by surprise. “But, obviously, he’s not the one I have to worry about, is he? I should have known from the moment you agreed to this nonsense that you were trying to worm your way into his life. How dare you try to ruin my marriage!”
“You…what? You never wanted kids? Jungkook wouldn’t leave you over that! He loves you, even when you’re being a complete and utter crazy person! You think I’m trying to break up your marriage? What the hell?”
She throws her hands up. “And you call yourself my best friend! What a fucking joke. No, I never wanted kids! Why would I want to give up my perfect body and my perfect life to raise some snot-nosed, grubby-handed, little brats?! I only ever went along with it because that’s what Jungkook wanted, what he begged for like a sad little puppy! Though I guess he didn’t have to beg you much, did he? You willingly went to him like a bitch in heat.”
“Jiyoon, what the hell are you even talking about?!”
She continues on as if you haven’t spoken, “I bet you feel so high and mighty, having given him exactly what he wants. That was the start of your whole plan, right? How you’ve plotted to get him to leave me? I should have just saved you the trouble and told him myself. Though, maybe he’s just too dense to realize it, because, I mean, come on. Years of supposed infertility?” she laughs again, completely humorless. “Am I just surrounded by idiots?”
There isn’t enough moisture in your mouth to speak comfortably, but you force the words out anyway, “But, you’re pregnant now. How can you say that—”
“Accidents happen! If I had known I’d get so shit-faced the weekend I found out that you were pregnant that I’d forget to take my pills on time, I’d not have let Dohyun touch me!”
You rock back on your heels, completely thrown off by her blatant admission. “Dohyun? What the hell did you do, Jiyoon? What the hell are you talking about?”
The person you once considered your closest friend throws her head back and laughs, the sound echoing from the ceiling. It’s not a humorless laugh like before, it’s full of incredulity and surprise.
“I did what any miserable woman does when their husband spends more time dreaming about babies than he does about his own wife. I found my own happiness!”
“I—I don’t understand…you love Jungkook!”
Jiyoon titters, clicking her tongue at you. “You’re so naive. Love is not real. Whatever fucked up little fantasy you have in your head about Jungkook, it’s not real. He doesn’t love you, just the same as he doesn’t love me. How I ever was friends with you, I’ll never understand. You’re so pathetic. Your delusions about Jungkook come from the fact he put a baby in you on the goddamn floor of your bathroom! I mean, come on, where is your self-respect?! If you think just because you’re birthing a child for him that it means something more, then you’re far dumber than I’ve ever given you credit for. Look at you, just look at you! Never in a million years would someone like Jungkook want someone like you if there wasn’t some sort of transaction involved! He’s mine and he’s so far gone for this baby—” she gestures to her stomach “—that he’ll never leave me no matter what. And if you think to keep that baby from him—” her hand flicks to your stomach “—you and I both know he’ll hate you forever.”
“You’re wrong, Jiyoon.” Whether Jungkook has feelings for you or not, you know nothing has happened between the two of you. And you sure as hell know that Jungkook doesn’t just care about the baby…at least, you don’t think it’s just that. “You’re not going to get away with this. Jungkook will see through your lies!”
You have to take several steps back as Jiyoon crowds into your space. “If you even think to say anything to him or to anyone else, for that matter, I will ruin you. You know I have friends in high places, far more than you do. I will make you regret every decision you’ve ever made. Now, I’m going to leave here, and if you see my husband, be a good girl and tell him to come home. Got it?”
“Why don’t you tell me yourself?”
Jungkook’s voice startles both of you, and you watch as the color drains from Jiyoon’s face. Her pouty lips open in horror. She turns slowly away from you to face Jungkook, who is now standing on the other side of the living room, his arms crossed and his eyes laser-focused on her.
“W-what are you doing here?” she asks, her body language morphing from surprise to defensive right before your eyes. “I knew he was here! You lying bitch, how dare you?!”
Before she can round on you and change the narrative once more, Jungkook quickly moves into the room and steps in front of you. “I think you need to leave,” he tells her. “Now, before you say anything else to dig your hole even deeper.”
“I don’t know what you think you heard—”
“I heard enough, Jiyoon. We both did. Leave while you have some dignity still intact, lest you forget those friends that you have in high places are really mine.”
Jiyoon at least has the grace to allow her tears to fall, showing the first sign of a genuine emotion other than rage since she stepped foot into your apartment.
“If you’d just let me expla—”
“Jiyoon,” you cut her off this time. “Leave before I call the police. Please.”
Her eyes flick between you and Jungkook. Without another word, she turns and leaves. Jiyoon might have hurt you, but you still feel the sting of your friendship crumbling. She wasn’t always good to you, may have even been downright terrible, but she was still someone you cared about for a very long time.
And you know if you’re feeling like this, Jungkook must be having it even worse. All those things she said, the lies…the deceit…dear god, everything.
“Jungkook,” you hesitate. “Are you okay?”
He blinks a few times and turns back to look at you. There are unshed tears in his eyes that give you a glimpse into what he might be feeling, but other than that, his face is completely unreadable.
“I’m not the one I’m worried about,” he tells you. “I need to know if you’re okay. Everything she said about you…about me, you have to know that none of it is true.”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t somewhat believe her. Ever since she said what she did at the office, about you being so desperate to fill the void in your life that you agreed to carry a baby—your first and maybe only baby—for someone else. Someone that you care about, sure, but not for yourself…you had absolutely no thought or concern for yourself. It was all about making Jiyoon and Jungkook happy. And in that moment, you realized she was right about at least one thing; you were desperate enough to give away something so sacred for…the chance at feeling something? Pathetic.
“I…I don’t know.”
Jungkook’s arms catch you around the waist, and you realize your knees have given out. “Whoa, let’s get you on the couch.” He takes up the same position he had earlier, kneeling at your feet after you’ve sat. The touch of his skin against yours is soothing, and comforting, as he cups your face and lets his eyes roam over your features. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
The last thing you want to do right now is tell Jungkook your thoughts, but you find yourself opening up to him, letting your torrential feelings bubble out in what you’re not sure are even coherent words.
“I agreed to have this baby without thinking of myself. This is my first baby…and I was completely okay with giving it away. What kind of person does that make me? Desperate? Pathetic? Was I really just so starved for a connection that I agreed to do that…? Am I a homewrecker? Did I let your kindness color my perception and create this elaborate delusion that maybe there was something more between us? Or is it just the stupid crush I’ve had on you for years now that is making me think maybe, in the end, things would have been okay and that somehow by choosing my baby, you’d be choosing me, too? No. No, that can’t be it. You don’t feel that way about me. You’re married! Or…at least, you were, or well, still are…to my best—ex-best—friend. And, of course, the only way I could get a guy to notice me was to be laid out on my bathroom floor, willing to have a baby—”
“I’m going to stop you there,” Jungkook says, lightly pressing a finger against your lips. “I’m not saying that what you’re feeling isn’t valid, because you have every right to feel however you feel about things. But, I need to set some things straight, and maybe that will help. Okay?”
He’s talking to you slowly, clearly, and with so much openness in his eyes now that you just want to dive right into them and float away into their espresso-colored abyss.
“Okay.” You swallow hard against the choking feeling in your throat, knowing you need to hear him out before you spiral further.
Jungkook settles on his heels, absently letting his hands, now engulfing yours, gently press against the underside of your belly.
“You,” he pauses to take a deep breath. “You are the most selfless and beautiful person I’ve ever met. I am so sorry that I did not make that clear in the beginning. Even before all of this started, that’s what I thought, and how I felt, and everything in the last seven months has just made me see and feel that even more. I know things are confusing right now, and there is a lot we need to talk about, but I need to make it clear to you…make you understand that you are far more than just this precious baby to me.” Jungkook leans forward and presses a light kiss to your stomach, keeping his eyes on yours. “You mean more to me than that, I just…I was scared to admit that, and we both know things have been crazy lately. I’ll forever be sorry for not saying all that sooner.”
“But…what? I’m confused. Are you thinking straight right now? I mean, that baby…Jungkook, don’t worry about me. I can’t imagine what’s going through your head right now. You can talk to me. Or I can call Taehyung?”
Jungkook chuckles, the sound low and almost sad. “This is exactly what I mean. You’re trying to put me first, worrying about me. Maybe I should be broken up about all of this, but…if I’m being honest, I knew deep down that something was off. Jiyoon has been acting weird, and then Taehyung overheard her and Dani today in the breakroom at the office. It all but confirmed it. But then she had to go and be very…Jiyoon and come over here to point fingers and lay blame, all so she could justify her own guilt over what she’s been doing to me—to us.”
“Oh, Jungkook.” The memory of passing Taehyung on the elevator comes back to you, and the pieces start to fit together. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for. Please don’t feel bad for me. I don’t want to be a victim in this, I don’t want either of us to be. Things might not be perfect, but…I-I don’t regret any of this. I care about you, and if it wasn’t for all of this…” Jungkook trails off, but you think you know what he’s trying to say.
Regardless of how fucked up things are right now, if the world as you know it wasn’t shattered into a million pieces, you might not be able to see the possibilities laid out before you. The possibilities that are right in front of you.
You lean forward and hesitate, poised with your lips a breath's width from Jungkook’s. All you need is a moment to feel that it’s real, that not everything is broken beyond repair. Whether he closes the distance or you do, you’re not sure. But, the tender press of his lips against yours is all the confirmation you need.
In fairytales, a moment like this would be punctuated with fireworks or banding trumpets and beating drums. But, for you, it’s the rapid thumping of your heart and the frisson of butterflies that take flight low in your belly that let you know this is real; that this isn’t broken.
“No matter what happens, we’re in this together,” Jungkook breathes, his words caressing your lips before he moves his mouth against yours again. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, not unless you tell me to.”
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“Are you sure you want me to be there?” you ask for maybe the third time since Jungkook helped you into his car.
His eyes flick from the road to yours before focusing back. “Yes. I want you there, more than anyone else. Today is a big day, what if I need an emotional support hug or something?”
He’s teasing you, you can tell. But it still makes you smile and swoon a little. It’s been a couple of weeks since what could easily be described as one of the darkest days of your life transpired. And things are finally starting to feel normal again; or as normal as it can be to have your supposed best friend nearly rip your world apart and come out on the other side with her husband by your side instead of hers.
Another few weeks have managed to fly by before you know it. And in that time, you’ve done a lot of soul-searching and talking—specifically, talking to Jungkook. There has been so much the two of you needed to talk about, both relating to Jiyoon and not. Because, somehow, despite—or maybe in spite of—all the things that have gone wrong, you and Jungkook have found yourselves drawn together closer than ever.
Things have been just a smidge more than casual between you and Jungkook. It’s like a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders and you are able to breathe deeply for the first time in a long time. Jungkook is with you and seems to be doing much better as well, the perpetual tension around him dissipating more with each passing day.
You feel like maybe you’re both toeing the same blurred line of figuring out exactly what you are to each other. The feelings are there, there’s no doubting that. It’s just working through it all to ensure you’re both making conscious decisions instead of rash ones that may be influenced by the emotion of it all.
“An emotional support hug or a freedom kiss?”
Jungkook hums thoughtfully, like he’s truly considering your question. You’ve only shared a few more kisses since the one that took place on your couch that night. But Jungkook is not afraid to shower you with affection in other ways, ways that you’re both comfortable with right now. Like how his fingers thread through your hair while you use his tummy as a pillow as you watch a movie on the couch. Or the way he helps you put on your shoes whenever you go out because he knows bending over too far can sometimes make you dizzy.
Sometimes you find yourself wanting to ask him for more, but unsure if he’ll be as open and receptive. You both agreed to not push anything and to allow it to all naturally occur, and develop on its own in a healthy way. You’re fairly certain that you both don’t want to accidentally ruin this before it has a chance to even begin.
“How much would it take for me to get both the hug and the kiss?”
It feels good to laugh, even as Jungkook pulls into the parking lot of his lawyer’s office and the mood grows more somber. There is a reason he’s here, and seemingly a reason you’re here, too.
“You can have both,” you concede with a soft smile. Because, deep down, you know he’ll probably need it; legal separation and then divorce is a nasty process, after all.
Hours and several signatures later, Jungkook looks lighter. There is a bit more bounce in his step as he takes your hand and walks you back outside. The sun is shining and you wouldn’t be surprised to see a rainbow pop up somewhere after the raincloud that just disappeared from over him.
“Well, I’m officially single now. Want to be my girlfriend?”
You can hear the teasing tone in his voice, which makes the surprised look on his face even better when you say, “Of course I would.” 
“Wait. Really? You’re being serious?”
“As long as you are.”
Jungkook laughs, the sound like music to your ears after so much turmoil has passed. “You know what? I think I am. I want this,” he says, giving your hand in his a light squeeze. “I’ve wanted you for a while now.”
That light fluttering feeling in your belly that you’ve come to associate with Jungkook swoops in and you swear you can hear those fairytale romance fireworks going off somewhere in the distance as you press up onto your toes and cover his lips with yours. 
“I’ve wanted you, too.”
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Baby time is swiftly approaching, and with Namjoon’s blessing, you’re taking some time off of work. Or rather, time away from the office. You’ve been working at home, something that was agreed might be best until you come back from maternity leave.
On your last day in the office, it was mentioned by Hyeonwoo that he saw Jiyoon leaving Namjoon’s office, her eyes red and cheeks blotchy. Later, you were told in a private meeting that Jiyoon has been given the same extension of time out of the office, except instead of coming back after maternity leave, she is going to need to find a new place of employment. All things considered, Namjoon hated to have to let her go, but with everything that went down, he had no choice in the end.
You haven’t seen nor spoken with Jiyoon since that day in your apartment. Jungkook has, but only a few times, to take care of legal things. The divorce should be finalized in a few months after Jiyoon’s baby is born. Even though she claims the baby is not his, Jungkook told you that he knows it’s possible. If she could have gotten pregnant by Dohyun, then there might be even the smallest possibility that she could have gotten pregnant by Jungkook instead.
So, with that, he’s requested a paternity test after the baby is born and has also extended some grace to Jiyoon. He’s allowing her to live in the condo until she has the baby, time she’s using to find a new place. Because once her baby is born, the condo will be sold. Which is why you have a stack of emails with more real estate listings waiting for you to have a moment to look through them.
Jungkook presented you with the idea of moving in together about a week ago. He’s already been on a few tours—with you on video chat so you can see, too—and you both know exactly what you want in a home—the place where your son will grow up.
“Hey!” Jungkook calls from the living room. “I’m back.”
You close your laptop and set it off on the bedside table before easing forward on the pillows to sit up straighter. Laying back in bed with your feet propped up tends to help with the swelling, so you’ve been spending some time lounging in bed when you can.
“In here,” you say.
You hear Jungkook’s feet pattering down the hall for a second before his head pops through the doorway, followed by his large frame. “How’s your day been? Just been relaxing?” He comes to sit on the other side of the bed, the side he’s been sleeping on for the last two weeks.
“As much as I can relax,” you sigh, rubbing a hand over your belly. “He’s finally settled down.”
You’re not sure you’ll ever get over the way Jungkook’s face lights up when his eyes sweep over where his son is steadily growing in your body.
“I want to take you to dinner,” Jungkook announces, sliding closer to you.
One of your eyebrows quirks up because clearly he’s excited about something but is trying to keep it to himself by the vibrating energy you can feel emanating from him. “What’s the occasion?”
“Occasion? Do I need an occasion to want to take you out?” His tone speaks volumes.
You give him a playful poke in the ribs, which earns you a lopsided grin, his nose scrunching in that adorable way. “You can take me to dinner on one condition.”
“Anything! Name it.” Jungkook bounces up onto his knees, hands planted on the bed beside you.
With a finger under his chin, you turn his face toward the end of the bed, where your toes are wiggling in invitation. “Please, if you expect me to get out of this bed.”
“Oh-ho, you drive a hard bargain!” he teases. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”
Jungkook crawls down the bed and takes up a position so your feet rest on the tops of his thighs. The instant his thumbs roll across the ball of your left foot, you let out a low groan.
“That feels so good. Now, if only you could do the same to my lower back.” You let out another breathy sound, eyes fluttering shut as Jungkook slowly eases away the ache.
“Your lower back bothering you?”
You nod. “Just a bit.”
Jungkook hums softly, thoughtfully. “I think I have an idea, if you’re okay with trying.”
One of your eyes pops open, and you look at him curiously. “Does it involve getting on the floor with the yoga mat like last time? Because I don’t know if I want to roll around on the floor again.”
“No, no,” Jungkook chuckles. He switches to massaging your other foot. “It’ll be a massage, I swear.”
“No offense, Jungkook, but I’m not sure how you can massage my lower back without me laying flat on my stomach, and well—” you gesture down at your prominent baby bump “—not exactly comfortably possible.”
One of his fingers comes up in the air. “That’s where my idea comes into play. Come on, the worst that can happen is it doesn’t work. What do you say?”
“I say, what the hell, why not? But, if it doesn’t work, you owe me dinner and ice cream.”
“I think I can handle that.” Jungkook’s tone is light and teasing, it almost feels like this is what you’ve always done. Like this delicate, flirty exchange has been a part of your dynamic from the start. What has been mere weeks, feels like years…and you don’t mind that, not one bit.
It helps to thwart any awkward tension as Jungkook helps you up onto your knees with your back to him. His hands are gentle, yet firm, on your hips as he guides them back until you’re practically sitting on top of his thighs.
“If you wanted me to sit in your lap, you know you could just ask, right?” The sassy comment is out of your mouth before you can stop it, earning you a shocked laugh from Jungkook.
His hands give your hips a generous squeeze, thumbs dimpling the curvy skin right above your ass. “I’m trying to remain somewhat of a gentleman here.”
“You may continue,” you say, fully relaxing into his grip.
“Lean forward, just a little, hands on the bed. Keep your back as relaxed as you possibly can.”
To lean forward the way Jungkook wants you to, you have to spread your knees apart so your belly can fit into the space between them. The cotton babydoll dress you’re wearing is probably not the best for this, as the fabric pulls and slips dangerously high.
But the moment Jungkook’s thumbs slide up and begin to press into the sore muscles of your lower back, you’ll do just about anything, as long as he doesn't stop. The flats of his fingers cup your sides, toying along the line of your ribs as his thumbs continue to work up through your mid-back and then back down again.
You let your head hang forward between your shoulders. A low whine gets caught in your throat. “That…is easily the best thing I’ve ever felt.”
Jungkook snorts a laugh. “And you haven’t even experienced all that I have to offer yet.” It almost sounds conversational, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d mistake the underlying heat of his words for something else.
“No,” you agree. “I don’t suppose I have…yet.” 
His thumbs pause for a moment, and you can feel the warmth of his breath brush across your shoulders as he exhales heavily. “Ah-um, does that feel better?”
You can tell he’s pulling back, intentionally not taking the bait. But, it’s so hard to tell if it’s because he doesn’t want to or if he’s just trying to respect you and that seemingly invisible line that the both of you have been toeing recently.
“It does.” You push your hips back ever so slightly into his touch. “But, I think it could feel better.”
“Yeah? How so?” Jungkook asks, voice low and full of barely restrained heat.
“You can stop trying to be a gentleman and show me how you really feel about me,” you suggest, peeking at him over your shoulder.
Jungkook looks like a man starved. His eyes are downcast, intent on the way his thumbs are now tracing lazy patterns across the top of your ass and over the curves of your hips. Slowly, his eyes slide up to yours, and the look there makes your heart launch into a frenzy of staccato beats.
One of his hands glides up your spine and comes around to cup your chin, turning your face even further to the side so that when he presses his body against yours, your lips are right there for his.
The kiss starts gently, like all the previous ones you’ve shared. But, soon, that isn’t enough, and you find yourself urging him for more. His tongue slides against yours as you part your lips, welcoming the wet heat of him inside your mouth.
His hands, once so restrained on your hips and lower back, map over every inch of your body that they can reach. Jungkook traces the lines of your shoulders, fingers feather-light as they pinch and pluck over the mounds of your breasts. Your dress rises and bunches as he contours his palms across your thighs and along your sides.
By the time you come up for air, your lips are tingling, and your entire body is alight. “There are many ways I feel about you,” he whispers, lips grazing along your cheek until he’s speaking into your ear. “You make me want to break the world and, in the same breath, remake it in ways inspired by the light you have given me because everyone should experience this—this beauty that you have brought to my life.”
“Words are wonderful,” you tell him, breathless and bold. “But I said show me.”
Jungkook hesitates only a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for…something. You look at him with everything that you can, hoping he can see the joys and affirmations you have for him.
“Only if you’re certain.” The words drip honey, sweet, and tantalizing. All you have to do is say yes, and you know he’ll hold nothing back.
Gripping the bottom of your dress, you bring it up and over your head before tossing it to the side. “I’m certain.”
Your nipples draw tight, just like the coil in your belly, as you wait with bated breath for Jungkook to react. He doesn’t leave you waiting long, his hands coming around to cup you, toying with the tips of your breasts. Your entire body shudders as he rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
“You are so beautiful,” Jungkook praises in a robust, husky tone. “I wonder if you taste as good as you look.”
Your body bends to his will, pliant as he supplicates you before him with your ass in the air. Jungkook slowly peels your panties down, and strings of your wetness cling to the fabric until it pops and leaves streaks of arousal webbing across your thighs. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on just from kissing and being touched by someone.
However, the way Jungkook tenderly soothes his hands over your body is different from anything you’ve ever experienced. There is a heightened sense of connection and awareness. He ensures you know exactly where he is and how hungry and eager he is to know your body.
“Jungkook,” you draw his name out, the syllables lingering on your lips as Jungkook moves his grip to your ass and squeezes. The pressure pulls at your body, opening you to him.
An appreciative hum sounds from behind you. “I want to make you feel good, but you’re in control, okay?”
You nod against the cool, soft surface of the duvet. “Okay,” you say, knowing Jungkook prefers when you vocalize your understanding when he talks to you, and you hope that carries over even into such an intimate setting.
It seems it does when he groans and whispers, “Good girl.” You only have a moment to smile to yourself at eliciting such a response before all thoughts completely empty from your head when Jungkook licks a thick stripe through your pussy.
“Jungkook!” His name is a moaned prayer, and you’re simply a mortal on her knees, ready to pay any tithe he demands as long as he doesn’t stop.
You’re rewarded with another lick. His nose presses against your body as his lips pluck in tandem with his tongue against your clit, drawing obscene noises from deep in your body.
Everything tingles, and you feel like you’re teetering on the edge almost instantly. Your body is primed and aching for more, having been starved of such pleasure for so long.
“Shh,” he soothes when you whimper at the loss of his mouth against you. “I want this to last.”
“No,” you moan. “Please. Please, fuck me. Please, Jungkook! I want to feel you, I don’t want to wait.”
Tears prick at your lashline, and you think you really might cry if he doesn’t put you out of your misery soon. “Then I won’t make you wait. I’m yours, I’m here, I promise.”
You listen to the sound of Jungkook’s belt clinking and the distinct brush of fabric as he pulls off his shirt and works his pants off. Curling to the side, you press your cheek into the mattress and let your eyes drink in his form in all its glory.
Jungkook’s tattoos are something you’ve seen many times; it’s not like he’s never been shirtless for a photo shoot or during wardrobe changes. But seeing them displayed like this? It’s wholly different. He looks like a god, chiseled from marble and lust.
The breath in your chest catches when your eyes slide down. His cock is hard and leaking, bobbing in the air so close to your body. All it would take is for you to rock back on your hips, and you’re certain you could take him into your depths.
As if sensing your intention, Jungkook palms the generous curves of your ass and keeps you firmly in place. “We are going to take this slow. I want to feel every inch of you taking me in. I want to feel the way your body squeezes and flutters as you adjust. And then I’m going to fuck you nice and slow, the way you deserve to be.”
“What I deserve is for you to shut up and fu—uhhh,” your curse turns into a throaty moan when he gives you exactly what you asked for.
The swell of him is decadent, the stretch enough for you to feel it but remaining on just the cusp of pain. It’s the perfect mix of pleasure, making you needy for more.
Jungkook’s whole body shudders against yours. He wraps his arms around you, one across your chest and the other clasped in the dip of your thigh, where his long fingers return to toying over your clit. Your back presses to his chest, leveraging your body in a way that seats you further onto his thick cock.
“Perfect,” he growls in your ear. “You’re fucking perfect. Goddamn, I could cum just feeling you around me.”
You move with him, letting your body rise and fall in sync with his shallow thrusts. It puts pressure in all the right places, and with his fingers still strumming over your clit, your body responds in kind.
“You’re going to make me—” Jungkook swallows your words, devouring you with tongue and teeth as your body succumbs to the pleasure coursing through it.
His grip on you tightens, and you can feel the moment he follows you into the embrace of ecstasy. Jungkook’s moan vibrates through your whole body, his tongue lazily dancing over yours as you both try to regain your bearings.
Somewhere between the foot massage and the orgasm, something clicked. No matter how messy life might be, nothing can take away this feeling of rightness—this feeling that the future is full of healing. For both you and Jungkook. Because perhaps once someone is shattered, the pieces might not quite fit back together as they once were, but they can still be made into something beautiful.
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◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-05-06 ColorMePurplex2
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clandestineloki · 1 year
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miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p3)
[based off of a request where a kind anon asked me 2 write one where he snapped at her, tweaked it a little bit so he's actually not mad at her but more concerned, it just came off in the wrong way]
tw: mentions of blood and wounds from shards, suggestive bit at the end
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miguel whos just gotten out of the nice warm bath you made for him
having put on a tight white shirt and sweatpants, drying his hair when he hears a something breaking in the kitchen followed by a scream
he rushes to the kitchen where his dimensional jump watch is on the ground in pieces, debris all over
and you're kneeling over it, trying to pick up the bigger pieces
"shit!" he yells, kneeling down and surveying the damage. "get away from that!"
"i'm sorry!" you cry, clearly shaken. "i-it was on the table and i hit it with my elbow-"
"i know- please don't- just let me-" miguel tries to gently usher you away, but you shake your head.
"it's my fault," you cut him off. "i'll clean it up-"
"I SAID GET AWAY! THIS COULD EXPLODE SO LET ME FUCKING HANDLE IT, ALRIGHT?!"
it stuns you into complete silence, making you flinch away and lean against the kitchen counter.
miguel sighs, running a hand through his hair.
"sorry." miguel says bluntly without looking up. "just- fuck- the last time this happened it broke my nose so don't touch anything-"
he pieces the parts of the watch together, brows furrowing when he sees the tiny projector panel is missing. "what? where's the-"
shaky hands place two broken pieces of the projector panel in his hands
his brows furrow when he sees there are specks of blood on your palms
and he realizes you were trying to fix it on your own :((
he looks up and you're staring up at him with tears in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as your breathing quickens and the tears stream down your cheeks.
"i-i'm sorry," you whisper, and his heart shatters
"amor-"
before he can react you stand up and flee to the bathroom
"oh no," miguel leaves the watch pieces right there on the floor and follows you
he finds you at the sink
running your hands through warm water as you cry quietly
miguel feels immense guilt for yelling at you
he wraps his arms around you from behind as he looks at you in the mirror
"bebita," he whispers. "let me help you..."
you're still looking down, avoiding his gaze, and he sighs, pressing a kiss to your neck.
"bebita, i'm sorry," he mumbled. "i was scared you'd get hurt, i didn't mean to yell at you..."
you sniffle, turning off the tap. "i messed up."
"we all do," he whispers. "i messed up too, you didn't deserve that, you were just trying to help."
you shake your head, turning to face him and showing him your palms filled with cuts. "yeah, n' look what happened."
"you think too lowly of yourself, cariño," he lifts you up on the counter, taking the first aid kit from the drawer and fishing out the tweezers, some cotton and some rubbing alcohol.
he presses a kiss to your lips. "i'm not mad at you for this. i want you to know that. i had no right acting like a jackass."
you laugh softly through tears, and he smiles sadly, taking your left hand and looking for your injuries
the next few minutes are completely silent as miguel picks out the tiny shards from your palms
he kisses each palm when he's done, then pours some alcohol on a cotton ball.
"bebita, this might sting a bit. take a deep breath for me."
you start sobbing, and he looks up at you.
"bebita, i haven't even put the alcohol-"
"i'm sorry," you whimper, crying harder, and his heart breaks again.
"amor," he leans in, brushing stray hair away from your face and thumbing at your tears.
"you're very pretty even when you cry, but please don't be sad..."
miguel pulls you into a hug and you let it all out while he shushes you softly, kissing your hair and whispering words of love
patiently waiting for you to come back to him, wiping away your tears and sniffling, looking up at him with a tentative expression.
miguel smiles. "there she is," he mumbles, kissing you sweetly. "nobody's mad anymore, i know you meant well, you always do."
he kisses your nose. "i love you."
"love you too," you whisper, and he smiles.
"do you want to watch a movie with me while i clean you up?"
"mhm."
"your pick, amor. anything you want, anything-"
"can we watch top gun?"
"no."
"but you said it was my choice!"
"anything but that! you know i hate top gun!"
"we watch top gun or im not cooking paella for a month"
"BEBITA POR DIOS!"
you giggle and he sighs.
"fine. you're lucky you're the love of my life... and that i dont know how to cook my own paella."
"how about this?" miguel lifts you up in a princess carry.
"i'll watch top gun with you WITHOUT complaining if you promise to never let me yell at you like that again."
you look at him in confusion. "but-"
"promise me." he whispers.
"okay," you nuzzle into his neck. "i promise."
"good. and remind me to eat you out more often im forgetting how good you taste ;)"
"MIGUEL!!"
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yvesntul · 4 months
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ellie williams x reader ୨୧ ♡
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use of strap, slight degradation, slapping, hair pulling, overstimulation, oral ( reader receiving )
‘ what did i tell you about acting like a fucking brat in front of my friends ? ‘ ellie delivered a harsh slap to the back of your thigh, a gasp leaving your lips at the painful sensation. you and ellie had been at a party thrown by none other than jesse when your girlfriend finally snapped. ‘ wanna grind against me and whisper shit in my ear all for you to leave and not answer your phone when i’m calling you. ‘ she pulled off your denim skirt, leaving you in your heels. ‘ i just wanted your attention. ‘ you winced as she pushed your head into the pillows of your bed, lining herself up with your entrance.
‘ yeah, well you have it now. ‘ she pushed herself inside of you, your hands flying out to grip the sheets. ellie grunted as she started thrusting, her pace unforgiving. ‘ this is what you wanted all night ? wanted me to fuck you ? ‘ she balled up your hair, yanking hard as you moaned. ‘ y-yes, ellie— fuck ‘ you stuttered, squeezing around her cock. ‘ shit, ‘ she cursed, one hand digging into your hip, and the other holding you down by your neck. ellie felt like she was on cloud nine, forgetting that she was supposed to be punishing you.
she pulled out, making you whine at the sudden empty feeling between your legs. ‘ i’m not supposed to be giving you what you want. ‘ she turned you over, your pretty face making her breathing stutter as she pulled you to the edge of the bed. your eyebrows knitted in confusion before you felt her tongue attack your clit, your back arching as a coil started forming in your tummy. your fingers ran through her hair, tugging at the roots when a particular stroke of her tongue made your toes curl. you mewled, your hips chasing her lips as you felt your orgasm nearing.
ellie knew your body through and through, pulling away from your soaked cunt when your chest started rising and falling with each breath. you whimpered, about to interject before she slammed into you again, dragging your legs on top of her shoulders. ‘ i can’t, ‘ you reached for her, tears welling in your eyes as she pinned your arms down. ‘ you’re gonna fucking take it. ‘ ellie groaned, her free hand covering your mouth as you moaned against her palm.
ellie moved her hand, satisfied to see your lipgloss smudged against your skin, looking like a fucked out mess underneath her. she felt herself teetering on the edge herself, her thumb rubbing hard circles on your clit. ‘ els, please let me cum .. ‘ you nearly screamed at the added penetration, ellie leaning down to kiss you. ‘ let me hear you, baby, give it to me. ‘ with her permission, the coil in your stomach snapped, your breath getting stolen out of your lungs as you shook in her arms.
ellie’s pace didn’t slow, and neither did her thumb on your clit as you whimpered at the overstimulation. ‘ you’re gonna give me one more, right angel ? ‘ she got on her knees, her mouth latching onto your clit for the last time. ‘ wait— oh, god. ‘ your back arched off of the sheets, the feeling of her fingers curling inside of you and hitting that sweet spot making you see stars. ‘ i can’t, ellie ! ’ you sobbed, your legs closing around her head. she looked up at you, her eyes dark as she separated your thighs, pinning them down so you couldn’t move.
you gasped, cried, and thrashed until she brought you to a second orgasm, this one stronger than the first. you stopped breathing, your eyes rolling back as ellie entered you to finally get herself done. ‘ holy shit, yn. ‘ she cupped your face, her fingers tapping on your throat to urge you to take a breath. ‘ e-ellie, ‘ your voice sounded weak as you came down from your high, your girlfriend leaving sloppy kisses along your jaw. it wasn’t until after she pulled out of you that she finally let go of your thighs, your legs falling limp. ellie looked down, taking your heels off before pulling the covers over you.
your eyelids fell heavy with sleep, the girl next to you tracing shapes into your skin as she pressed a kiss in the curve of your neck, whispering against your skin. ‘ did you learn something today ? ‘ you couldn’t help the small smile that formed on your lips. ‘ no.. ‘
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this uglee n rushed asfk srry
𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐋 | all rights reserved — do not modify, copy, or plagiarize any of my works.
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stvolanis · 7 months
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Now i know you better
PAIRINGS: Alastor x Fem!Sinner!Reader
WARNINGS: ANGSTTTT, mean!Alastor, cheating w/ Lucifer, probably inaccurate time line idk, foul language,this is honestly kind of poorly written I’m sorry, manipulation, abuse, Alastor owns Readers soul, toxic relationship, possessive!Alastor, pet names, brief mention of suicide
NSFW WARNINGS: dubcon, slapping, hair pulling, choking, forced cream-pie, degradation, dacryphilia, p in v sex, knotting, humiliation, blood if you squint
SORRY IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
It wasn’t your fault that your grave was dug the moment you stepped foot into the fiery pits of hell.
It wasn’t your fault that it was dug by Mimzy when she introduced you to her dear friend, the Radio Demon who, oh so casually, casted peoples screams for hell to hear.
Mimzy, known to drag people into her messes when shit hits the fan, had deeply embedded you into an on-going war with one of the various overlords, simply by seeking a place to lay low for a few days. You didn’t expect Alastor to show up, that damned smile engraved onto his face.
And it most definitely wasn’t your fault that you laid in said grave.
He was charming, and charismatic. A lethal combination when a sense of confidence and dad-humor was thrown into the mix. The way you met wasn’t the most ideal, especially when he basically bombarded through you, inviting himself into your wrecked home to find Mimzy himself without a word.
His smile, then, seemed aggravated. He did little to hide the annoyance she had somehow caused him, and the way his voice grew in static when he spoke showed that. He was scary when you had watched his figure enlarge, his once normal, slim body now turning into a tall, beastly, and lanky figure with protruding antlers and dilated pupils.
Dread set into your core that day when he directed his wrath towards you. His tall frame stalking over you, a hand quickly shot to your throat. Your back hit against the wall as you were lifted from the ground, gasping for breaths of any air you could possibly get.
His breath was drug out and uneven as his chest moved up and down at a surprisingly slow pace. Even though he seemed to be filled of fury and unease—he had a sense of control over his calmness to an extent. Eerily, he had glided his mouth along your neck, inhaling your scent.
A harsh groan, almost as if he were in pain had slipped past his lips. It rumbled deep in his chest, and your eyes watered as your vision began to fade. Only then, did he release you and let your body fall to the floor. You held your throat gently as you finally got what you were begging for.
“Maybe you’ll listen, since sweet Mimzy won’t.” He began, his voice deep and contorted with static and brute. “You will fix the mess she created, and restore what was mine to begin with. Your soul will be mine until you have fulfilled your duty as said.” He finished.
Your mouth gaped. He had presented it to you like you had a choice in the devastating matter, but you knew better. You sobbed as your curled into a ball, and watched as he raised a hand towards your frame that wracked with sobs. “Hush now, girl. You will be under my care so long as I’ll have you.” He ushered with a grimace as he watched you wipe your nose with your wrist.
You longed to object. To scream and yell out that never in a million and one light years would you ever agree to such a thing. Your freedom was yours alone, and you liked to keep it that way. He’d have to drag you through hell and back for you to allow that to happen, yet as you took his sharp hand into yours, it was all said and done.
A bright light consumed you, and just for a moment, you thought maybe it was the light shower everyone talked about up in heaven. The bright beacon of a light so blinding that cleansed you of all your wrong-doings, took away all your pain and replaced the emptiness with a euphoric feeling of content.
Warmth spread throughout your body, and that moment of hope ended when you felt thick, heavy metal of chains cling around your throat and wrists. Alastors smile haunted you. It crept up on you in your dreams, and ate away at the only good things you had left to hold onto.
The life you once cherished, even in hell, soon faded away till it was nothing but a faint distant memory of someone you once knew that was yourself. It was replaced by an evil demon, in the form of a gentleman who disguised plots and alterier motives with wide smiles and laughs.
but again, you knew better.
The person you once were was stripped from you, and you were bare before him to bend and mold how he saw fit. And so, he did. You became his his underboss of sorts, a quiet and submissive being who did as told. They always said behind every powerful man, there was a woman. And it was you. Everyone got the good side of Alastor, yet it was you he took his frustrations out on when the day was said and done.
It was you who endured his aggressiveness when everyone was fast asleep in their bedrooms, dreaming of a better life you knew you’d never receive.
You were his lap dog, and his favorite toy to play with whenever and however he wanted to. It was unofficial, and confusing to others, but you somehow managed to find yourself in some sort of situationship with Alastor. You were his. body, mind, and soul.
You tried your best to please Alastor, constantly seeking his approval that he so generously bestowed upon others. You chased your tail around, and ran in laps, jumping through hoops just to earn a small nod in approval for him.
He wasn’t always bad. He cared for you, in his own fucked up way. He cared in way that he would never let something bad happen to you, and would protect you at all costs. You were his delicate little flower, how could he ever allow anyone who isn’t him to inflict any kind of harm onto you? He’s a bitch, but to an extent.
He loved you, yes, but only when he was in the mood to love you. When he loved you, he’d hold you close to him when you were perched on his lap in the hotel lounge. He’d whisper sweet nothings to you as he kissed along your neck, making giggles vibrate through your chest. He’d run his fingers through your hair till you fell asleep against him at night after a particularly hard day.
And on days when he knew he went to far, his classic water works he only had in store for you would come into play. He couldn’t bare his favorite toy hating him. He didn’t know how to deal with the colder shoulder and short-answer responses from you. It aggravated him that only you could get under his skin without doing much, so when you were heavily upset, only then would he drop down to his knees and kiss the inside of your thighs lovingly.
Tears would align his eyes, but his smile never once wavering, and beg for your forgiveness. He’d tell you how much he loved you as he rubbed your sensitive bud, and wash away your worries with so many orgasms, you forgot why you were mad at him in the first place.
Yes, he owned your soul and tended to be abusive, but he wasn’t heartless.
He’d tell you he’s sorry, and that he’d never hurt you again. It’s always a lie, and each time you allowed yourself to stupidly believe it.
But the truth was, you didn’t know what else to do. You hated to admit it, but you were nothing without him. You spent so long shaping yourself into the person he wanted and needed you to be, that you forgot how to be yourself. You forgot what your previous hobbies were, or what else made you happy besides him. Your world revolves around him, and without him, it felt like your world was coming to an exaggerated end.
So, you put up with it. Each and every time.
It wasn’t till today, the day of Charlie’s fathers arrival to the grand hotel Alastor managed to put together and run, that you’d ever seen him so genuinely with any sort of nerves.
The moment Lucifer walked in, in all his glory, Alastors personality took a flip. He went toe to toe with the ruler of Hell himself, all because he was afraid of someone who he knew had more power than him. But Alastor wasn’t a weak man, not at all, and that’s why he made it his mission to piss off Lucifer as much as he could.
You’d never seen him this way before. With you? Yes, but with other people? Never. He was cunning and every word he spat at Lucifer dripped with malice and confidence. Alastor knew he couldn’t beat him with power, so he hit him where he knew it would hurt. His family. Specifically, the only one he had left.
What Alastor didn’t expect, was for Lucifer to become completely and utterly smitten with you. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he’s been all smiles and giggles with you.
He listened when you talked, even the little small words or sentences no one cared to listen to. His lips against the top part of your hand when you first met was the only thing that circled your mind for days. His lips were plush and warm, soft and tender. It was a contrast to the kisses Alastor left you of pity and forgiveness.
He was sweet, and undeniably handsome. He made you feel ways you’d never felt before. He made you feel like you had a choice. A voice that wouldn’t be spoken over and genuinely listened to. He was charismatic, in a way like Alastor, but it was real. His smiles were real, as were the sweet nothings he said to you.
For weeks, you snuck around with Lucifer. At night, when Alastor was fast asleep, you’d sneak out from under his watchful arm and find your way to Lucifers room. His arms were more welcoming, and warm. His kisses sweeter than honey and his love as gold and bright as they come.
His voice was soft, and vibrant as he hummed against your ear. The fingers that raked through your hair were gentle and soothing, calmed you to your slumbers that comforted you through the night. His smell was intoxicating; cider and musk, like an orchid full of ripe apples. The two rosey spots on his cheek shined in hue when you’d enter the room.
I didn’t take long for Alastor to notice. He want a dumb and oblivious man. He was a ruthless overlord who couldn’t afford to look past the little things. He noticed the stares that the two of you sent when in a room full of people. The lingering touches no one else noticed when you brushed passed each other.
And most of all, they way you’d slip from his grasp in the dark of the night like he was stupid.
He knew, of course. He knew the whole time. And he let you let yourself believe that there was any other choice besides him. He allowed you, from the goodness of his heart, to feel a speck of the freedom you longed for. He let you grasp it and cradle it with all your might, just to draw you back in by the chains that shackled you to him for eternity.
He liked knowing that he controlled you. It fueled the god complex he had, knowing that no matter what you tried to do, you’d always be his. His to love, his to fuck, his to torment.
He mocked you for it, too. Rubbing it in your face that you were chained to him for as long as you’d live in hell. Suicide crossed your mind a few times, the only way you saw yourself out of it—yet, you knew that no matter what life you had next, you’d still always belong to him in some way, shape, or form.
You should’ve known better. Should’ve known that you could never be happy. Should’ve known that Alastor knew the whole time. Yet you were naive enough to think you were smart enough to go behind his back with a person he detested the most. The one person who could easily kill him with a blink of an eye.
Alastor would never say it out loud, because he knew deep down that he would never win against Lucifer. So, he did what he does best, and he took it out on you.
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Tonight wasn’t supposed to be any different from any of the other nights you left Alastors bedroom.
You lay in another man’s arms, his chest rising and falling beneath you as soft breaths slipped past his pale lips. Lucifer looked especially beautiful like this. His white skin glistening in the dull lighting of the room, and his streaky blonde hair ran through messily against the plush pillow.
You wished you could stay in this very moment forever. You’d rather spend an eternity admiring Lucifer for all his greatness, than suffering in Alastors darkness miserably.
You never told Lucifer about the way Alastor treated you behind closed doors. You knew that if you did, Alastor would be dead without a second thought. It crossed your mind a few times, obviously. How could it not? It was your only way out. The only thing that stopped you was the fact that Alastor wasn’t always like this.
He wasn’t always a bad person towards you. In the beginning, he tried to make you as comfortable as possible. He made you happy, and lively. His presence didn’t make you want to cower away in a corner, and his stare made you flush red, as bright as the color of his hair.
After all he’s put you through, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt shoot through you each time you looked back at Alastor asleep in your shared bed. He never cheated on you. The one of many things he���s never done, yet here you were, every so happily cheating on him. You felt like a two-timing snake, and you knew if he found out that he’d feel betrayed.
With that thought, you slipped from under Lucifer’s heavy arm, watching with soft eyes as he muttered under his breath at the loss of your warmth against him. You kissed his cheek and whispered a goodbye as you exited his room, softly shutting the door behind you. Your finger glided along the walls of the hallway, all the way till you found yourself outside of Alastors room.
You inhaled deeply, reaching for the doorknob, twisting it ever so slowly. Your entered the dark abyss of the room, shutting the door softly behind you with a wince as it creaked lightly. Damned this old ass building.
What you didn’t expect, was for Alastor to press against you from behind.
His breathing was uneven, and sharp as his chest still moved up and down slowly. You froze. You felt your dead heart stop as if you were alive. It seemed like oxygen didn’t exist anymore as you gaped, jaw slightly fallen slack as your eyes lined with tears. Your body shook as his hand traveled to the bed of your throat, craning your neck back to meet his eyes painfully.
“A-Alastor—” you gaped. He clicked his tongue. “Hm, silly girl. You really thought I was unaware of your whore-ish activities?” He chuckled out, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. “Wait, please—” you began, but you didn’t get a chance to think of what to say next as he slammed your back onto the bed.
You tried desperately to crawl away from him, but within a second, chains tied you down to the bed frame. You wracked with sobs and please of despair. He stood silently for a moment, watching the way you crumbled so easily without him even having to really do anything.
“How dare you.” He hissed out after a moment. Climbing on top of your tense frame, he pinched your cheeks together and watched as tears ran down your cheeks pathetically. “I give you everything you could possibly need. I make sure you’re alive with a roof over your head and out of the clutches of hells streets, and this is how you repay me? By sleeping around with men?” He growled through his sharp teeth.
His smile was formed still, but more into a scowl of displeasure. His antlers were grown and prominent as he began to shift to his demon form that you hadn’t seen since the first time youd met him that fateful day. He was like a rabid animal, drool slipping through the cracks of his jagged teeth as his body became large and monstrous.
This was it. This how your soul would finally be put to rest. By the claws and bared teeth of a monster with the facade of a charming, hotel manager. Not the way you’d want to go out, but hey, at least your were gonna get out of it, right?
Or so you thought.
His claws, sharp as knives tore through your shirt, ripping it off of your figure and discarded onto the floor. Your white lace bra on display in front of him. Your pajama pants adorned with cheesy pandas torn to shreds alongside your favorite sleeping shirt. But all you could think about was the abnormally large bulge hard and prominent against your inner thigh.
God, you hated yourself. You danced along the line of lust, fear, and hatred. Hatred for him, mostly. You hated that you loved Lucifer—yet your body yearned to be used and played with at the hands of Alastor.
The sweet sex, praises and butterfly kisses Lucifer showered you was amazing, but this—this was different. The way Alastor fucked you was different. Yes, he was rough and fucked hard—but this was his way of showing you that he loved you. It was peculiar, to say the least. A man so easily able to use his words to fluster anyone couldn’t look you in the eye to tell you that he loved you.
So he fucked you like he hated you. But you knew what he meant.
His finger hooked under the middle of your bra, effectively slicing upwards to cut it in half. Your breasts sprang free, and your nipples hardened under the tense, cold air. You squirmed as his breath fanned against them, his long tongue shooting out to lick against them tenderly.
He played tricks on you. It was his favorite game. Giving you false hope. Dangling things he knew you longed for in front of you, only to yank it right back. Killing every last good thing you had left till you had absolutely nothing but him.
So you should’ve known better than to trust his soft tongue kitten licking your nipple. His sharp teeth bit down—hard enough to draw specks of blood around it. You yelped out in pain as your eyes lined with fresh tears waiting to be spilled over. The pain was dreadful, but god, did it feel good.
Alastors thumb trailed to lower, tracing down to your stomach till he reached your cotton panties, dampened with your arousal. “What a slut. Getting off on this. You should be ashamed of yourself, darling.” He mocked out with a cunning smile. He didn’t think twice before ripping your panties off.
He fumbled for second with his pants, unzipping them before letting them reach low enough just to pull his cock out. “Now, I’m gonna fuck this cunt till I’ve had enough, and after that, you’re going to go into the small-dicked-duck fanatics room with my cum dripping down your thighs and tell him just how good I fucked you.” He growled out, his hand finding it’s way back to your throat, squeezing tightly as he lined himself to your entrance.
“Alastor, please just listen—i” his cock bullied is way into you. Long, and thick. 9 inches of pure, heavy meat sat snugly inside of you, playing with your insides. He was perfectly trimmed, and his balls heavy balls slapped against the underside of your pussy with each agonizingly perfect thrust he delivered into you.
“Oh, oh fuck!” You moaned out, head thrown back as your hand clenched onto the chains that bound you to your bed post. “Tight little pussy. Tell me, does he fuck you like this, baby?” He panted out as he watched the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
He always thought you were the prettiest like this. Underneath him, writhing in pleasure, cock drunk and hungry for him. The only time you didn’t resent him. The only time you wanted him. He cherished this, not that he would ever say it out loud.
“I asked you a fucking question.” He said, slapping the side of your face harshly, leaving a painful sting behind. You whimpered at the familiar impact. “No, Alastor!” You all but screamed out as his cock kissed your cervix.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed loudly, and the smell of hot sex was in the air. A distinctive, vile smell. Your body was lined with sweat, as was his, and your breasts bounced each time his hips met flush against your ass. All you could think about was him.
He consumed your thoughts, plaguing your mind. You couldn’t escape him. And as of right now, you weren’t sure you even really wanted to all along.
Some sick part of you enjoyed this relationship you were in. The part that liked to be put in your place, and told what to do in return for praises of affirmations. A relationship that never got boring, and always kept you on your toes no matter what. Traumatic? Definitely. Toxic? 100%. But, this is what you had to endure. The least you could to was learn to like and deal with it.
You clenched down tightly onto him as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly, his dick hitting every right spot, including the little nerve of your g-spot inside of you. The angle he had your hips positioned in hit it better, and he could tell you were close when your cunt began to pulse around him.
“Please, please, I’m gonna cum!” You babbled on and on, drunk on the feeling of him inside of you. He chuckled as he pulled your head up by the root of your hair, just enough to have your lips crashing down onto his. “Fucked you stupid, honey, i know.” He cooed out against your lips.
He tasted bitter. Like whiskey and old cigars, mixed with a strange tea refreshment. It was an odd combination, but one that suited him indefinitely. His tongue swirled and glided against yours as they fought for dominance in a sloppy, and surprisingly passionate kiss. One that said what he didn’t have to out loud. ‘You’re mine’. He won the fight for dominance, and he sloppily suckled your tongue into his mouth.
The kiss was nasty, sloppy with saliva dripping down your chin and a few cuts on your lip from his sharp teeth clashing against them, but it was the least of your concerns as he rested his forehead against yours, nearing his end.
“I’m gonna fill this pussy up. Nice and full so everyone will know in dues time just who the fuck you belong to.” He growled out through clenched teeth. You shook your head back and forth, your eyes widening with fear. “No, don’t! Please don’t!” You begged, on and on, but to no avail.
His thrusts became harsher, and more demanding. Chasing his high aimlessly as you begged and moaned out his name underneath him. It was then that you felt it. His cock balls deep when you felt it began to swell up inside of you.
You gasped in shock as you were stretched painfully to your limit, the bulge in your lower stomach large and prominent as he pressed against it, triggering your orgasm. Your juices flushed out of you and all over his lower abdomen, and he groaned at the sight. You clenched down onto him impossibly tighter and he felt like he was gonna lose his mind.
“Pull out. Please pull out.” You desperately tried to reason with him, but he didn’t care as he sat snug inside of you, his knot finally emptying inside of you. It was warm, and you could feel it drip down your ass when his cock finally fell flaccid and limp, slowly pulling out of you.
“Maybe now, you’ll learn your lesson. You must be a fool to think that anyone could ever love you like i do.” He said, shaking his head. He bit his lip with a satisfied smile as he watched his mounds of cum pour out of you. “Milked my cock so well.” Was the only praise that slipped past his lips the rest of the night.
He didn’t allow you to clean yourself, only letting you thrown on a pair of panties from the drawer in his bedroom. Your inner thighs were slick and sticky with his warm, salty cum. “Run along now, dear. Come back when you’re finished.” He said in a singing tone, knowingly.
A flame rose in your core of embarrassment as you waddled out of the room, the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs growing by the second. It was humiliating, doing the walk of shame down the hallway, all the way to your now past lovers room.
A soft knock was laid on his door, and after a silent, dreaded minute of standing there, his door fell open. There you stood, in nothing but panties. Bite marks around your nipples and your neck prominent with a lingering bruise from the grip he held on your neck. His eyes trailed down to the cum slick between your plush thighs.
His eyes widened.
“The fuck happened to you?”
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
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sh1-n0bu · 7 months
Text
𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!
day 31: dressed up/in costume with everyone from hsr and genshin impact
warnings: dressed up/in costume, lingerie, maid costume, slight exhibitionism, cock/strap traditions, creampie, overstimulation, degrading, praise, hair pulling, oral, fingering, belly bulge, dacryphilia, brat taming, collaring, usage of toys, master kink, size/reverse size kink, tentacles, roleplay on some, slapping, squirting, bondage — shit is messy and a lot so enjoy it my fellow hornies. i sold my soul for this
notes: some characters has been left out due to uncertainty of their ages. i included characters that i think have been canonically proven as an adult and of age!! dainty chain divider belongs to @/cafekitsune
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laid over the table, spread out with the maid dress in a mess, your sweet darling couldn’t handle it further as they come into your mouth again. shaking thighs coming around your head in a vice grip, slurred words and sobs of “p-please! mashter, can’t take more…! unghhh… guhcck♡︎” coming out of their mouth as they shake their head. sweet little maid of yours, can’t even hold their arousal back.
it was such a cute dress too! reaching their knees, frilly at the ends, soft and comfortable fabric. without a panties to cover their dripping arousal as it rolls down their thighs of course. too bad your maid was so incompetent and couldn’t hold themselves back.
it didn’t help that the vibrator inside them was buzzing away at the highest setting. sitting snuggly deep inside them as they try to fulfill their new role of being your maid. it didn’t last long when the vibrator hit their sensitive spot — that one spongy spot inside them that caused them to let out an uncharacteristic squeal, dropping the cup of coffee on the carpet as their hand goes down to push the maid dress’ skirt between their legs. legs shaking, thighs rubbing together, you knew that reaction.
reaching a hand out, you pull their chin up to force them to look at you. what a cute look on their face. all flush and red, biting their lips, eyes tearing up at their own oversensitivity. unable to hold themselves back any longer, your maid clutches at the edge of the table tightly as they come into the insides of the dress with a debouched moan.
that’s what led to this. being ate out as they lay spread on your table. gods, the vibrator was still deep inside them, flush against that one spongy spot. they really can’t handle more stimulation, their poor mind would shatter and their body would break! they already were with their hands flying everywhere, trying to grasp something to stabilize themselves as tears just continue to roll down their pretty red cheeks. jaw slack open in a silent scream as they come into your eagerly awaiting mouth again.
“mAS—! masterehhh…♡︎♡︎ p-please… no moowwhree!! can’t— ♡︎♡︎ can’t!” they cry out again, slurred gibberish continuing to fall out of their drool covered lips as they squirt into your mouth. not good. you really have to teach your poor maid a lessen on discipline.
wriothesley, capitano, jean, ganyu, diluc, childe, yun jin, kazuha, sucrose, aether, xiao, layla, kaveh, kirara, furina, thoma, albedo, baizhu, charlotte, ayato, navia, blade, dan heng, himeko, luocha, sushang, gepard, bronya rand, caelus, argenti, hanya, march, natasha, topaz, tingyun
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“n-no no, please wait—! t-too much, i just aaahng—! just came♡︎♡︎!!” your lover let out a squeal, kicking their legs weakly against your hips, hands smacking against your shoulders to try and slow you down just a bit so they can get their mess of a mind back in place. the large bell attached to the front of their collar jingles at each movement, your sweet pet keening as they feel the familiar warmth of your cum being fucked deeper into their insides.
it was their fault to begin with. acting so high and mighty, being bratty and even downright refusing to acknowledge your presence. so, it would only be understandable to dress them up in their appropriate clothes according to their attitude and teach them a lesson right? by clothes you meant nothing except for the cute fake cat ears atop their head and the collar around their neck with a large bell attached to the front.
so what was their problem now? it was them who started this little game with acting high and mighty in the first place to see who would show themselves to be in charge of the relationship, as they put it.
“stupid kitty. i told you to keep your voice low, didn’t i?” you hiss in anger, stopping your thrust completely with your cock sitting snug inside their warm walls. crying about it being too much and yet going ahead and daring to whine in loss at the feeling of your movements stopping. what a demanding pet you had.
with a click of your teeth, you pull out a small ball gag from the nightstand at the side before putting the gag into their mouth and fastening the buckle. they tried to say something, probably something to deny your words or the muzzle, but you make no effort to let them continue their bratty behavior.
pulling out completely, you watch quietly as the large amount of cum you fucked inside their pretty hole comes gushing out. white, transparent colored fluid dripping out of their sensitive, puffy hole, dripping down onto the bed sheets as your lover shifts and squirms on the bed. they felt so exposed under your scrutinizing gaze.
with a light smack to their thigh that got them whining, you prop their legs open further as you watch the cum seep out of their hole. how fucking delicious. slowly easing your tip back in, your gaze shifts to their facial expression. red in the face and ears, drool and tears slipping down their face and onto the pillow. they looked so pathetic as their glossy eyes try to focus on you.
“quiet kitty. learn your lesson” you remind them before thrusting the rest of the strap inside. immediately, they throw their head back, toes curling as they scream into the ball gag. ah, they came from just that too.
jing yuan, sampo, kafka, fu xuan, silver wolf, dr ratio, seele, aventurine, black swan, serval, qingque, faruzan, heizou, wanderer, venti, kaeya, alhaitham, cyno, lisa, ayato, furina, hu tao, yelan, eula, lyney, xianyun, albedo, itto, kaveh, childe, dottore, pantalone
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going out for a halloween party wasn’t exactly the most brightest idea, you realized. especially with your lover who — for some reason — decided to wear a fluffy skirt witch dress. accompanied by the iconic witch broom and a pointy tipped hat sitting atop their head. but there was a problem. your lover was feeling a bit mischievous today it seems as any moment of privacy or when the two of you meet eyes over the room and the blaring song, they would wink and slowly slip their skirt up until showing you that they were wearing a laced underwear.
at first, your reaction was like any other lovers’. flushing cheeks, looking around to make sure no one else saw and giving them a flustered smile accompanied by a thumbs up or so. until it got old real fast as they keep making sexual gestures. so, who’s to blame you when you finally had enough and drag your lover off to some random empty room of the place, lock the doors and shove your lover onto the bed, sexually frustrated and ready to fuck them stupid.
happy that their request was being accepted and their secret plans working, they tried to play the role of ‘damsel in distress’. moaning about how cruel you are for shoving them down, mean for tearing off their panties and how you were acting like a hungry wolf. to which you only rolled your eyes at and pushed a finger inside their already — not so surprisingly — lubed and spread open hole.
“shh, darling. there are other people in the room next door” you whisper, quietly chuckling as your lover only nods dumbly, mouth full of your fingers, suckling on them to keep their shrill moans quiet as your cock continues to split them open. too many rounds, too much pleasure and the cute ring of white around your strap was a nice reminder of how easily they got fucked dumb.
angling your hips, you thrust inside their still tight hole again, this time successfully hitting their sensitive spot. immediately, they twitched and kicked their legs before wrapping it around your waist, pushing your tip deeper inside to kiss that spongy muscle again and again as they cream around your cock once more.
jing yuan, tingyun, hanya, dan heng, dan heng il, argenti, asta, guinaifen, kafka, luka, march, sampo, serval, topaz, stelle, gallagher, yukong, acheron, dr. ratio, albedo, alhaitham, itto, beidou, dehya, eula, hu tao, kaeya, lisa, lyney, heizou, childe, scaramouche, tighnari, venti, yae miko, yanfei, yelan, sandrone, capitano
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“a-anhh… you sure about this, darling?” your lover asks with stuttered breath, naked, back on the bed with their legs spread out as a few slimy tentacles slowly curl around their legs, starting from their ankles as they slowly and tentatively make their way up their bare skin. you hum comfortingly, their head on your lap as you squeeze their hand gently as a way of reminding them there’s nothing to be hesitant of.
recently, you went to the sex shop you visit to see what was new there. the shop owner — having already become acquainted with you and your lover due to your frequent visits — offered you a new “toy”. tentacles, in a small square box. they said something about it being a prototype and gave you a mini book about guides, how to use it, what and where the creature was made from etc etc. after a careful amount of research and preparation, you decided to buy it. and now here you were, having talked with your lover about the new “toy” you brought and wondering if they would be okay with trying it out with you.
of course, if anything were to go slightly bit wrong, you wouldn’t hesitate to take over and put the slimy thing back into its box.
“i’m sure it’ll be fine, love. after all, we read through the user guide enough times and even contacted the shop owner. now just relax” you comfort them, one of your hands running through their hair to soothe them. tilting their chin up, you lean down to place a soft kiss on their lips just as they let out a startled whine.
looking down, you could see that the tentacles were now gently prodding at their slicked hole. you had already prepared them beforehand just in case the prototype would be too harsh. seeming to have felt that they were loose, the tentacle slowly pushes itself in. more and more as the long, girthy thing disappears into their hole as your lover stutters of it feeling a bit odd.
“should i take it out then?” you ask, a hand over their belly where a cute little bulge was made due to the sheer size of the thing pushed inside. your lover only shakes their head, a drawn out moan following when you gently push on the bulge. gods, it was a big one.
“n-no… no need. it just feels… new and unfo—eeeck!!” their voice is cut off by a shriek when the tentacle starts to pump itself in and out, seemingly hitting their little bundle of nerves inside them. judging by how much your lover was thrashing their legs, trying to close them, you could guess how deep the tentacle was reaching.
“tsk tsk. darlin’ if you wanna feel good, you gotta keep your legs open, y’know?” you click your teeth, about to reach over before stopping. curious, you watch as the tentacle seemed to double or triple as two other emerge, pushing their legs apart. huh, there was no warning of the creature being able to duplicate itself.
taken aback by how relentless the creature was in fucking into their spongy spot, your lover keens. shaky hands going down to try and push them away before you pry their hands off softly. feeling betrayed, they let out a whine. turning to look at you with tears brimming in their eyes.
“[n-name]! th-they gcck! they’re b-bullying meeeehh♡︎♡︎ t-these aaanh gyuck!! things a-are bullying me♡︎♡︎” they sputter out, tripping over their words as fat globs of tears fall down their cheeks. not long after, their legs shake and twitch, back arching off of the bed so prettily as they squirt on the bedsheets. even then, the tentacle doesn’t stop. instead, it only seems to speed up its movements with renewed vigor as if wanting to make your lover squirt more.
“aaAAGH—! c-can’t!! [name] make it sto—aanh aangk♡︎♡︎ j-just came… s-sensitiiivvee♡︎” your lover drawls out, mind already starting to blank out as their hands tug on yours to ground themselves. you simply shush their loud mewls with a kiss, hearing the filthy squelching noise of the tentacle fucking your lover as you simply let the “toy” continue. this was a good purchase.
gallagher, caelus, dan heng, ruan mei, yingxing, asta, fu xuan, himeko, luka, natasha, welt, zhongli, yanfei, xiao, lumine, tighnari, childe, kokomi, nilou, neuvillette, mona, lynette, kuki shinobu, sara, keqing, ganyu, kaveh, diluc
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lately, work has been becoming more and more exhausting. it was just simply too much. too much pressure, too much workload, too much stress. and your lover seemed to have noticed it. i mean, who wouldn’t? with the way you’re constantly slouched over, dragging your feet as you trip over your words. and those dark eyebags too.
so, they simply thought of a nice way to help you destress. to help you take your mind off of work for at least the night.
putting on one of the few lingeries they own — more specifically, the one you bought for them on one of their birthdays — they quietly make their way into the room that works as an office whenever you decide to work from home. scattered papers, broken pens and pencils lying about with you yourself looking like a corpse sitting amongst them, your lover felt their heart ache.
you were nearly falling asleep on your seat when a hand was gently placed on your shoulder, jumping slightly in your seat as you turn to look at the owner. ah, your darling. wearing a beautiful lingerie as they smile at you softly. but even their smile couldn’t hide the concern in their eyes.
“oh? what’s the occasion, my love? did i accidentally saw the date wrong and missed a special day?” you ask softly, rubbing your eyes as they shuffle to sit on your lap. hands running through your hair, smoothing them out as they pepper your face with soft kisses.
“hmm no. just wanted to surprise you” they hum soothingly, draping against you so that their chest was against yours. you could almost hear your synchronized heartbeats in the silence of the room.
“don’t you think it’s about time for you to get some break from work? and i don’t mean just a five minute break, i mean a whole vacation type of break” they mumble against the crown of your head, placing your hand over their chest and letting you squeeze them. they always knew you had love for simply just touching them. a healing factor, you once teased them when they asked you why you always smush yourself against their chest. they may or may not have beat you up for that.
“mmh.. i suppose so. once this cursed documents are finished, i will definitely take a vacation type of break” you hum softly, one hand on their, massaging the soft flesh as your other draws shapes on the skin of their hips. feeling the texture of their skin on your fingers was exactly the type of grounding sensation you needed. how could you ever stop being so grateful to be theirs.
feather light touches trail from their hips to their inner thighs, making them shudder in excitement as they roll their hips to indicate they wanted your fingers already. taking their gesture with a chuckle, you push the underwear of their lingerie aside. softly rolling the tips of your forefinger over their puckering hole, you give a little experimental push inside. only to find yourself surprised at how wet they were.
“aww have you been touching yourself, love? have i been so neglectful you opted to pleasuring yourself?” you grin mischievously, grinning at the soft pink on their cheeks. they only huff and lightly swat at your shoulder, warning you not to get too cocky. you laugh in response, finding their embarrassment endearing as you slip a finger inside. not too much after, second finger follows before a third is pushed in at how loose they were.
“aaaannh.. love your fingers. they’re so much better than my own” your lover sighs out softly, quiet moans slipping past their lips that they didn’t even bother to muffle as their hips roll over your fingers. attempting to ride your three fingers inside them as their moans and whimpers grow louder in volume. you could use a de-stressing action like this more in the future.
kafka, blade, dan feng, jingliu, yukong, natasha, ruan mei, hanya, gepard, al haitham, baizhu, beidou, ningguang, chevreuse, cyno, dehya, jean, kaeya, lisa, mona, rosaria, shenhe, thoma, lumine, dainsleif, yae miko, arlecchino, columbina
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
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Really love your works!! Hoping I could ask for a Carlos Sainz smut to angst. You are Charles’s little sister (of age of course) and he catches you having sex with his teammate. He becomes angry, warns Carlos off, he does as he’s told as he doesn’t want to lose Charles friendship, Carlos tells you that you can’t see each other anymore but in a really harsh way, you are heartbroken and angry at both.
Lightest of light smut like not even really smut but you're still getting a warning
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It was just fooling around. No feelings, nothing real between them. Just two attractive people finding a break from their loneliness within each other.
It wasn't that deep.
Except, Charles didn't see it that way. (Neither did Arthur or Lorenzo, but they weren't there to catch them in the act, so their distress doesn't count). He saw his little sister beneath his teammate and he saw red. And not just because they were in the Ferrari Garage.
"Cha!" She cried, legs still wrapped around Carlos's naked waist. "Holy shit, get out!"
Charles didn't need to be told twice. He backed out of the drivers room and pulled the door shut behind him. The heel of his hands pressed against his eyes. "What the fuck!" He shouted, voice only slightly muffled by his sleeves.
Unwrapping her legs from around Carlos, she looked at him. "Shit," she hissed as she climbed out from beneath him and grabbed her shirt from the floor. "Shit, fuck, shit."
Before she could run out of the room, Carlos grabbed her hand. She stopped and turned towards him, fingers reaching out to brush through his hair. Kissing his head, she stood straight and walked out of the room.
Charles was out there, his expression furious. She'd only seen him like this once before, when she and Arthur had hidden his phone and broken it. "Charles," she tried, but he shook his head.
"Don't," he said. Charles grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. "Just go back to the fucking hotel."
"No, Cha," she began, but it was too late.
Charles pushed open the door to the drivers room and strode in. "Carlos!" He bellowed, ignoring as she grabbed his arm. "You're sleeping with my baby sister?"
Carlos let out a breath. He looked past him, looked at her. At the slight terror on her face. He steadied himself before he looked in Charles's eyes. "She's a grown woman," he said, and her face fell further.
Suddenly, Charles pushed him. "She's my little sister!" He shouted. "She's my sister and you took advantage of that!"
Carlos didn't react. He stood still, unwilling to fight his teammate. But she was grabbing her brother and trying to pull him away. "Charles, stop it!" She shouted. "Leave him alone!"
When Charles's fist connected with his face, Carlos fell back. "Shit," he hissed, holding his nose.
"Stay the fuck away from her," he spat and turned on his heel, marching out of the drivers room.
Leaving her with him.
Cautiously, she approached. Almost like he was a frightened animal. "Carlos?" She asked quietly, but he shook his head, still pinching his nose.
"He's right," Carlos said. She didn't mean to frown. "I took advantage of my teammates little sister."
A scoff left her lips. "No, you didn't."
His stare bore into her own. "Yes, I did."
"Carlos-"
"I did! I took advantage of you and I shouldn't have!" He insisted and wiped at the red dripping from his nose. "I should have broken this off months ago," he spat.
She sucked in a sharp breath. "You're being dramatic," she mumbled as she turned to grab a tissue. "Charles is going to calm down eventually."
And, suddenly, Carlos was standing up straight. He strode past her and pulled open the door to the drivers room. "I think you should leave," he said and gestured for her to do so.
"Carlos-"
"Go!" He shouted. "I don't want to be with you anymore! I don't want to fuck you! Hell, I don't even want to see you!" He screamed, spit flying into her face.
A sob left her lips, hand immediately coming to cover her mouth. "Okay," she said quietly, blinking back tears. "Have it your way."
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