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#and i have said it before but i will say it again
dante-mightdie · 3 days
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Please... more viking!Simon... midterm week was harsh. I am in need of my current comfort au. Please😭more🗣✊️
okay fine aftermath of viking!simon angst/jealousy
c/w: simon is an insensitive prick, angst/no comfort, don’t worry this isn’t the last part they will be happy, arguments
you didn’t regret it despite how much simon wished you would. there was no need to make a scene, he says. you scoffed when he said that. he hasn’t even seen you make a scene yet but you will if he carries on like this
when you planted yourself right on his lap in front of the new healer, he still wrapped an arm over your hips and pulled you against his chest. he knew you were just staking your claim on him. part of him enjoyed your little stunt. a little jealousy makes a man feel wanted
but another part of him just wishes you would drop it. they simply know each other through work and nothing more but no matter how much he tries to convince you that he doesn’t care for her in anything other than a professional sense, you quip back saying that you don’t want him caring about her in any sense
“she offered to move…” he grumbles, tending to the fireplace in your shared bedroom. you glare daggers into his back when he says that
“she did no such thing. if she thought she was sat in my seat, she should have stood up and moved. and you shouldn’t have let her take my seat.” you hiss, trying not to wake the sleeping baby in the crib next to your bed
“you weren’t sitting in it.” he shrugs, “it was a friendly conversation. nothing more.” he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over to check on his sleeping baby with a tenderness that would make you melt if you weren’t so bloody angry with him
“seems like you have a lot of friendly conversations with her.” you spit, folding your arms across your chest. your words clearly hit a nerve judging by the way he immediately stands and actually faces you
“enough. I don’t like what you’re implying, wife.” he raises his tone slightly, pointing a finger at you as though he was a parent scolding their child. “I have been nothing but devoted to you and our children. I won’t speak on this again.”
you narrow your eyes at him, chewing on your tongue to prevent yourself from lashing out,
“fine.” you hiss, throwing the covers back and climbing into bed with your back to him. you hear him sigh and blow out the candle on his side of the bed before settling down on the mattress himself
you feel him reach out to gently grab your shoulder, probably to pull you against him like he does most nights but you just jerk your shoulder out of his grip,
“don’t.” you say firmly and you don’t miss the scoff that leaves his mouth before he turns over but you’re sure he misses the soft sniffles and tears that slip down your cheeks as you lay back to back with your husband, his presence far away even though he’s supposed to be right next to you
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colormepurplex2 · 3 days
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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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Time Traveller Au pt 5
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
This is kinda long so bring your snacks along.
Baldwin and a woman- kissing.
You were in your room right now, fiddling with your time machine now that you had one tool to pry it open. Just 20 minutes ago, you had witnessed Baldwin and some girl kissing, and very swiftly you, turned and left the scene before either of them could notice you. You dont need to meddle in their business- why should you?
Its not like I actually want to stay here and confront him if he really did betray his future wife.
Someone knocked quickly on your door before entering in.
"Y/n!" Baldwin beamed as he ran towards you and picked you up, spinning you around. "Princess! I missed you!" He exclaimed, putting you down and kissing your forehead. Though he still kissed you with the same intensity as ever, you didnt feel the warmth as you usually did.
"Hello." You said monotonously, it was the best you could do to keep your voice stable. Baldwin, still in a daze, cupped your face in his hands and gazed lovingly at you.
"You are a sight for sore eyes." Shut up.
You looked away as Baldwin continued to stare into your soul. "So... how was your trip? Tell me all about it!" He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you further to him.
"It was fine." You replied, looking at the collar of his shirt. You refuse to look up into his eyes, lest you lose control of your temper. "Just fine? What about your family? Did you find them?" His voice held genuine concern.
You hummed, still not looking up. "I have found some clues, but I will need to go there again to find more."
Baldwin pouted. "Again? No. Being away from you for just 1 week already felt like a lifetime!" Oh I bet. Thats why you couldnt stop yourself from kissing some whor-
"I need to go, Baldwin. Its important for me to find them." You said with the same serious tone, and it didnt go unnoticed by him this time.
He tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You tried to pull away, but his arms held you firmly. His eyes studied you again, and he wasn't convinced.
"Princess, tell me whats bothering you." You. You are bothering me.
As much as you wanted to say that, you didnt. Cheater or not, he still is the king.
Finally, you gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just- tired from the travelling." He sighed in relief, using the back of his hand to caress the side of your face. "Oh, I bet you are darling. Why dont you take a nap now and I'll come fetch you for dinner?"
-
Baldwin threw you a feast on your return. Even though you had no appetite, you still joined him because you cant completely ignore him without raising suspicion. So, for now, you'll bide your time. You'll play the fool.
It just didnt make any sense. Why- why was he trying so hard to be affectionate with you? Why he wanted to marry you when he was interested in someone else? And before anyone says that maybe he's not that into her- um, back in this era, when everyone was conservative, even Baldwin was religious, he wouldn't just kiss any girl out of wedlock unless he was absolutely sure he was going to marry her.
"Y/n?" You looked up from your plate at Sibylla. Baldwin had invited his sister and Guy to celebrate your return. "Tell us, how was Egypt?"
You could feel Baldwin's eyes on you, but you didnt look his way. "It was good. Salauddin was a very good host, he had arranged for me to see the pyramids."
"Ah, how kind of Salauddin. I'll be sure to write him a letter and send him some gifts. What do you think, princess?" Baldwin offered, but you only gave a small hum and barely spared a glance his way before continuing to talk with Sibylla.
"My king, I do not think it would be wise to do that. The Muslims are our enemies-" Guy interjected but Baldwin shot him down with a look. Baldwin didnt even have to glare at Guy to intimidate him.
"I have brought some souvenirs for you. They're in my room- I'll show them to you later." You smiled at Sibylla who beamed back.
Dinner was mostly uneventful, or until dessert was served and Guy began choking on blueberry. "Guy!" Sibylla cried out as her husband began thrashing about from the lack of air. The servants tried to help him, slapping his back and all, but really what could they do.
Serves him right for trying to eat and start a propaganda against Muslims again. But alas, you needed Guy alive if you wanted to bring the downfall of Baldwin and Jerusalem, just as history had it.
So you walked over and pushed everyone away before performing Heimlich manoeuvre. It took a few minutes but the blueberry finally dislodged itself from his wind pipe and out.
"Oh! Guy-!" Sibylla rubbed his back as he coughed while a servant passed him some water. She smiled at you gratefully. "You saved him, Y/n! Thank you! You really are an angel!" Guy finally recovering from his coughing fit, pushed Sibylla's hands away and glared at you.
"She did not save me- I was not dying-!" He argued, but before Baldwin could defend you, you replied nonchalantly.
"I agree. You werent dying. This was just God's way of telling you to shut up sometimes. Hallelujah!" Baldwin had to cover up his laugh as everyone in the room automatically said "Hallelujah", not giving Guy a chance to retaliate.
Baldwin's eyes sparkled with amusement as he found you smirking.
You're a clever one.
-
Baldwin came to fetch you for breakfast the next day. He came to your room last night, just minutes after Sibylla had left, but one of your maids informed him that you had already went to sleep. Slightly odd, as the king would always wish you good night before you slept, but he suppose you were tuckered out from your long journey.
However, he was dumbfounded when he saw all your maids standing outside your room, whispering amongst each other.
"What is going on? Why are you not with the princess?" Baldwin asked, quickly waving them off as they bowed.
"Your majesty, the princess- um she has started her bloody flux."
"Her WHAT?!"
"Her monthly cycle." Oh. Periods. Baldwin sighed. He thought some terrible accident had occurred.
Then again, periods in medieval times were not a good news either. Sure, they did indicate fertility and all, but woman were still shamed about it, especially religiously. Some people believed that cramps and bleeding were a punishment for Eve's original sin. Others even believed that since one is bleeding for such a long time, then that person is "sick" and could transfer this "disease" to those in contact or even near mensturating women. A small minority even thought that this monthly flow was some sort of sorcery or curse that could ruin entire crop fields. Add on to that the lack of sanitary pads/tampons and no ibuprofen, and you get what would be a terrible time for women.
"Please inform the princess that I'm here-"
The maids shared a look. "Your majesty, it is not advisable to be near the princess when she is sick-"
"Inform the princess. Now." The maid's heart almost dropped at his tone, before following his order. Moments later, she returned looking even more nervous than before.
"Y-your majesty, the princess insists that she will see you herself when she is feeling better, for now she would like to rest." Baldwin frowned. Just how unwell were you? Are you- are you really that unwell or do you just not want to see him?
No. You wouldnt avoid him like this. He hasnt done anything wrong.
Baldwin looked at the maids again, who were waiting with bated breath. "Bring herbal medicines for the princess. Ensure the best care for her. Every need must be met." The consequences of not following his order didnt need to be voiced.
-
You returned back to tinkering with your time machine when you heard his retreating steps. Were you on your period? Yes. Were you so sick that you did not want to even look at Baldwin? No, but then again, your cramps hit worse on day 2 and your ibuprofen was burned away with your clothes.
Then again, PMS-ing or "working on your time machine" wasnt the real reason you refused to meet Baldwin. It did contribute to it, but deep down you knew you were still bothered by the fact that he kissed that woman.
You dropped your time machine on the bed exasperatedly. Clearly, you werent going to be able to focus on this as long as you didnt confront your feelings about the kissing. So, you became your own unpaid therapist.
First of all, was it really cheating? It was just a kiss- nope. You shook your head, deciding. It so was cheating! Especially considering the time period and how conservative everyone was.
Alright. Next question- was it intentional? You closed your eyes, trying to come up with excuses. Maybe he was drunk? No. Baldwin never gets that drunk, and even drunk, you highly doubt he's one to go for day time drinking. Perhaps that lady initiated the kiss? Yeah, thats possible. She kissed him, but- your lips pulled into a scowl as you recalled the sight. He didnt push her back for a good few seconds. Of course, you didnt stick around for long to see if he did, but still, Baldwin should've pushed her back. Maybe he had his back turned and she caught him by surprise- you sighed. No way. Baldwin's reflexes were too fast, to the point you think he probably has a sixth sense. He wouldn't have been caught off guard, or even let anyone get this close to him.
You rolled your eyes. Intentional or not, at the end of the day, the fact is that Baldwin didnt immediately push her away and smack her down on the ground.
On to the next query- who the hell was that lady? Because nobody would just go up to the king and kiss him, especially when said king made sure to announce his engagement to the entire world. So, she planned it. Yes, no one would dare to do that unless they knew they could get away with it. So maybe she's someone Baldwin knows. Personally. Maybe a childhood friend? An old bethrothed? Or his favourite whore because Baldwin isnt as innocent as he seems and decided to have a bachelor party while you were away?
And finally, the burning question- why did it bother me who he was locking lips with? You crossed your arms against your chest defensively. Why did it bother me so deeply? Was I jealou- You scoffed. No. Definitely not. Okay, maybe I am a little jealous. And who wouldn't be? Anyone in my shoes would understand. Perhaps I enjoyed his attention, its human nature. Normal psychology... yeah. Even if I wasn't going to return his affections ever, even if I never intended to marry Baldwin, of course I would still expect him to be loyal, He didn't know I was going to leave him! He shouldn't be kissing other women! He should've stayed loyal, stayed true to me, his fiancee!
You exhaled sharply, brows furrowing the more you thought about his betrayal. It was understandable for me to be pissed. Why? Because of Baldwin and his stupid lovey dovey words and his disgusting forehead kisses and his dumb big blue eyes that made me believe him.
And even if he didnt actually love you, you thought that at the very least- he liked you, especially when you had literally saved his fucking life.
Your nostrils flared. "Jerk." You whispered to yourself.
A knock came on your door.
It was one of the maids, bringing in something on a tray.
"His Majesty has sent some herbal medicines for you." You were a little surprised at the gesture, not because Baldwin did it. Ugh. No, you were surprised because in medieval times, people often withheld herbal medicines or anything that would relieve period pain purely because many believed that this pain was the punishment of Eve's original sin for all womankind. So- considering Jerusalem's religous history, you were surprised at the gesture.
"I have also brought in more cloth rags for you. Would you like me to help you change-" "No!" You said abruptly, heat rising to your cheek. Yes, you were using linen rags because you didnt have any pads with you. Of course, earlier you had futuristic gadgets and medicines to deal with this situation, but with all of them burned to ashes, you had no choice.
"Oh. My apologies princess. I thought you'd like some privacy so I excused protocol, but I can have your ladies in waiting come and assist you-" "Please stop talking." You begged. "Its... fine. I can do it myself. Please leave the rags in my cupboard. And um-" You fiddled with your hands, trying to gather the words to voice your next request.
The sweet old lady smiled kindly at you. "Yes, princess?"
You looked down, cheeks flushing. "Can you... get me some more soap? And um, thicker rags?"
"Soap? Oh, I'll have the bath prepared right away-"
"No, not body soap. Soap for... washing my clothes." The maid nodded understandingly. "You can give me your stained clothes, princess. I'll wash them myself."
"Im sorry-" She waved you off. "No worries. I should've asked. Its just- woman here usually dont have heavy flows. I'll arrange more rags. If you dont mind me asking, how long does your flow last?"
"Sev-" You were going to say seven days but then realised the more days you added, the less you'll have to see Baldwin, or anyone else really and that will buy you more time to work on your machine. "Ten, sometimes twelve days."
The kind lady's eyes bulged a little. "I-! My apologies, princess! I- I was just caught off guard. Its um- well, its just girls here get shorter flows. The longest I heard was 5 days." Of course, in medieval times, menstrual cycles were shorter due to poor diet and more frequent child bearing.
"10 to 12 days... princess, I apologise for asking this, but have you considered that you might be bleeding excessively because of a disease? Shall I fetch a physician?" She asked with concern.
You shook your head. "No. I have always gotten them this long and I had myself checked by a physician. She said its normal, especially where I'm from." The maid nodded, satisfied that you're not bleeding to death.
-
Baldwin was in his study, working on some official documents when your maid knocked on his door.
"Your Majesty." She bowed gracefully as Baldwin smiled at her, standing from his seat to walk up to her, embracing her in a warm hug.
"Lady Margaret, how are you?" Lady Margaret used to be his royal nanny for a long while and took care of him even when he had contracted leprosy. She was practically a mother figure to him, especially when his own mother died. When Baldwin became engaged to you, he had asked her to be your senior lady in waiting, which will be her official title once you are wed to him. For now, she is your head maid. Baldwin trusted her the most with you. She had a comforting presence, and he was sure that while she took care of you, you would also find comfort in her the same way he used to.
"I'm good, your majesty." She smiled softly. "I just served the princess lunch."
"Hm, and how is the princess now?" The concern in his voice warmed her heart.
"The princess is well now. She's resting at the moment, though I feel a little concerned."
His heart skipped a beat. "Why?"
"Princess Y/n told me about her cycle time." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "It seems that she will suffer through this- diseased period longer than most others."
"How long?"
"Ten or twelve days." His eyes went saucer wide. From what he's heard, the normal duration is often 2 or 3 days, maybe 5 for some. But this?
"Summon the physici-" "I offered, your majesty. But she insists that she already had herself checked and that this is her normal cycle." Lady Margaret informed him, before continuing on to ease his worries. "She seems very knowledgeable about her body, and she is handling it pretty well for now."
"For now?" She nodded. "Of course, only time can tell if the pain increases in its intensity. All we can do is offer our help and pray that this bloody flux passes smoothly and swiftly."
Baldwin pondered over her words for a moment, his brows still furrowed slightly before he finally spoke again. "Please summon the royal physician. I would like to talk to him." He ordered before leaving his study to go to the royal library.
-
The next day, as expected your cramps hit. You had no plans to move an inch today, tossing and turning as you clutched your abdomen, eyes screwed shut in pain.
Somebody knocked on your door. Its likely one of the maids, probably to bring you food or something.
"What?" You called out, pulling the covers over your head. You're in no mood to interact with anyone. You heard the door open and footsteps entering. You exhaled, barely suppressing the painful groan. "Please can you go right now and get me some of the herbal medicines you had given me yesterday- and no, no food. I'm too nauseous."
You heard the person clear their throat, making you frown. Why haven't they left? Oh, please this better be not some "royal protocol" shit where they withhold the drugs from you.
You whipped the blanket off you, eyes still closed as you raged off. "Unless you want me to continue to feel like I have a iron poker stuck up in my spine while my soul leaves me from my feet, you will get me those herb-" you stopped as you opened your eyes to see-
"Baldwin?" He stood there with worry spread across his face.
"Is it... really that bad?" He asks in a low volume, as if afraid that noise would hurt you. In his hands, he held a tray that had a bowl. Walking up to your side, he set the tray on your side table, and thats when you saw the bowl of soup on it.
"Why are you- you're not supposed to be in here." You informed him. "I'm sick-"
"I know." Baldwin began sitting down on your bed, making you scoot back to give him space. He scanned your face briefly, making note of the tired eyes. He raised his hand to touch your forhead, but you turned your face away, making him halt. Why... were you avoiding his touch?
"Princess?" He called you, but you didnt turn to look at him opting to answer by keeping your eyes fixed on your fingers fiddling with the covers. "I'm not well- you shouldnt be near me, or you'll risk getting sick-"
"I'll take the risk." He announced as his hand found its way to your forehead first, and then caressed your cheek. "You took the risk for me too, remember?"
I did. You stared at him. And for what, you prick?
Taking your silence as a sign, Baldwin picked up the bowl of soup and brought the spoon up to your lips.
"I'm not hungry."
"I know, but this will help with the pain and nausea. I promise." He gently nudged the spoon against your lips again, and you parted your lips as the aroma of rosemary and oregano hit your nose.
The soup tasted good and you wouldn't admit it out loud, but it did warm your soul as it slid down your throat. It was earthy and creamy, and just what your cramping body needed.
"Its nice, hm?" He asked, smiling as you gave him a single nod. "I had the kitchen make it with my own recipe."
"Your recipe?"
"Well, I told them about what ingredients to add, ones that would be beneficial for your body and soothe some of your ache. They had to tweak it a bit to make it palatable." Baldwin explained. "And how did you know what ingredients to add?" You interrogated. Did he make it for his lover? Or stole the recipe from her?
"Oh, I just researched it." "Researched?" He nodded, feeding you another spoon. "I read some books."
You couldn't help but scoff. "So what? You're an expert on periods now?"
He chuckled, shaking his head as he scooped up some more soup to feed you. "Of course not! I cant be an expert by spending after only researching for a day. Sure, I summoned the royal physicians to educate me more on the topic but I dont think he knows much."
He spent a whole day... reading about periods? You turned your gaze away from him, choosing to focus on the wall behind him instead. "That's obvious. Just how much could a man know about the female body?"
Baldwin's eyes twinkled. "Exactly my thoughts, princess." He fed you another spoon. "That's why I'm having a royal body of physicians solely focused on studying the female body and affect of medicine built. It will consist of the best physicians, both men and women, from around the world study and work on the diseases concerning the female body. I'll fund it personally."
"What? Why?"
He looked at you dumbfounded. "Obviously for the same reason you said. Currently not much is known about a woman's body, so why not? I don't want you to be suffering again because of my lack of knowledge. I truly do feel helpless when I see you in pain." He confessed sadly.
Liar.
He set the empty bowl to the side before taking your right hand in both of his. "Please, let me know how can I help you? My love, my beautiful princess, it hurts me to see you in this torment." Baldwin said as he kissed the back of your hand gently.
You stared at his face, at those blue eyes of his. How can he- how can he lie with such conviction?
You pulled your hand away from him, looking away (which now that you think about- why am I avoiding his eyes? I didnt do anything wrong!).
"I wish to be alone, Baldwin."
In your peripheral vision, you could see the way his face dropped, and though you should've felt delighted, you felt rather awful- as if you had hurt a child.
It only made things worse when he whispered. "But... why?"
Still avoiding his eyes, you replied. "I- I adjust better to this- this state when I'm alone. I just need to rest, that's all. Some peace and quiet." You convinced yourself that you only explained to him just to get him to leave.
Had you looked at him, you would've seen the sorrow on his face.
"O-of course, princess. As you wish."
He left.
-
The next 3 days were uneventful for you, mostly because you didnt leave your room and- Baldwin didnt return to disturb you.
Which is good. You though to yourself, because it finally gave you enough time to not only work on your time machine but also work on your plan to right the timeline as it should be.
Which is why, today you had decided to leave your room. Of course it helped that Lady Margaret had brought in cotton for you to make a DIY sanitary napkin.
"Where did you get this?" You don't recall cotton being grown easily in cooler climates.
Lady Margaret smiled as she made your bed. "His Majesty had it imported from Sicily."
Your eyes went wide. "How? Sicily is- thats far away!" She chuckled at you shock. "Yes, but I think this sicilian cotton had made its way to Egypt, and perhaps His Majesty acquired it from Sultan Salauddin."
You looked at the large amount of cotton packed into bags in your room. "He bought this much?" Lady Margaret followed your gaze to the pile sitting in the corner, and mistook your surprise for disappointment.
"No, dont worry princess. King Baldwin had bought bales of cotton! They're stored away for future use." Your jaw dropped.
Bales? Baldwin ordered BALES OF COTTON?! You gasped internally. If he had THAT much cotton imported from Egypt, Salauddin surely would've asked for the reason because he would suspect that Baldwin is planning to use it for military strategy or attack. But you know Baldwin, his dumbass would've spilled to Salauddin, his off field bestie who he confides in about everything, about your periods.
You want to crawl into a hole in ground and die. Right now.
But... you fucked up history, so dying of embarrassment will have to wait.
"Lady Margaret, I need some fresh air so I'll be either taking a walk in the garden or you'll find me in the royal library ." You said, adjusting your clothes in front of the mirror. "Please make sure that neither my maids nor my knights are to follow me. I- I need some time to breathe or I will lose my mind if I feel anyone breathe down my neck about some royal protocol. I'll be back before lunch." You left before she could protest, though you doubt she will when she saw how agitated you were.
You had walked towards the west hall where you were hoping to find that big headed buffoon-
You heard his obnoxious laughter before you saw him.
Guy was standing in the middle of the hall, looking ugly as hell as he smirked at some poor maid struggling to break free from his grasp.
"Oh come on, you wench, give me a kiss-"
"Guy, let her go." Startling him, the maid took the chance and ran off. Guy turned around, glaring when he saw you. "What do you want?" He grumbled, running a hand through his hair frustratedly, looking back to see if the maid was still there or not.
"Quit it." You scolded him, before walking towards an empty room, nodding at him to get in. He grinned as you strode in. "Ah, so you're jealous? Well dont you worry darling, I can give you a kiss to-"
"I would rather burn myself alive and be crucifed than even be rumoured that you dared to touch me with your disgusting paws." You remarked, walking away from him to create distance between you two. "I have a proposal for you that would interest you."
Guy grumbling, sat down on a chair and looked at you expectantly.
"I have a plan to make you king." His eyes went wide.
"I- I- what?!" He stood up. "I dont want- this is treason!" He yelled, pulling out his sword and aiming at you. You stood steadfast, unaffected. "And this isnt? If you kill me, who do you think will end up in the dungeons?" You sighed. "Put it away, Guy, before you embarrass yourself any further."
You began explaining your plan. "You and I both know you were just waiting for Baldwin to roll over and die when he had leprosy. I know you want to be king, and... I can help you with that."
He stared at you, trying to figure out if this is a trap. "I... I deserve to be king. I was promised the throne. Thats why I married Sibylla!" He complained. Honestly, what the fuck does Sibylla see in this piece of cow dung?
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you continued. "I agree, thats why we should make an alliance-"
He scoffed. "An alliance? With you?" He said with such disgust, you didnt know whether it was because it was you were a woman, or because you were- well, you. "Why would I need you?"
"Because Guy... you're too dumb to pull this off on your own. No offense." He was offended, so you continued before he could start talking shit again. "Guy, if you become a little open minded for just a few minutes and hear me out, you'll find my proposal very useful." And by some miracle, he stayed quiet and let you present your plan.
When you were finally done explaining, he looked pretty convinced. But of course, he would rather stab himself than admit that outloud.
"Your plan... can work, but it'll take an awful lot of time." He said.
You leaned against the wall, and crossed your arms. "Good things comes to those who wait."
"I still think we should do it my way." You rolled your eyes at his insistence. "Guy, do you know how stupid it sounds when you suggest that we lock Baldwin in a room full of lepers? He cant get leprosy again."
"Well, why not?!"
"Because I cured him." He scowled at your answer. "What about measles? Or yellow fever-"
"Baldwin cant get sick. Ever." Well, technically he could get sick but its highly unlikely because the medicinal vial he drank when you gave him your water had all the vaccines in it, so Baldwin's immunity is pretty invincible right now. You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Look, if we follow my plan, then Baldwin will die a hero, no one will suspect you of anything, and you still get to be king!"
He seemed to contemplate for a moment before narrowing his eyes at you. "And what do you get out of it?"
"Freedom." Guy scoffed. "You want freedom over being Queen of Jerusalem, the Holy Land? Do you think I'm stupid?!"
"Those are two different questions. But yes, to both." You smirked as he got mad. "Okay fine. I'm doing this for... revenge."
"Revenge?" You nodded. "I love someone else, and Baldwin doesnt love me either. He only wants me because of my "healing abilities." You lied, but this is the only way to convince Guy. "So what do you say? Are we in an understanding?" You asked him.
Guy smirked, nodding.
-
You were on your way towards your chambers when you saw her again.
Her. The woman who kissed Baldwin.
The raven haired lady was leaving her room and hadnt noticed you standing at the end of the corridor. She pulled her hood up, looking around hastily before leaving towards the East wing of the castle.
Where Baldwin resided.
You had no reason to, but before you could stop yourself, you were entering her room.
Might as well check the place where Baldwin's been hiding his lover all this time.
It was an average sized room, nowhere near as lavish as your or Baldwin's was, but still better than what some of his royal guests would get. You walked towards her bed, sitting down as a sharp cramp hit you.
You groaned, holding your stomach as you buckled over and thats when you caught sight of a small box under the bed. You pulled it out and took of the lid. It contained letters. Many letters from different people, but mostly from Baldwin.
You looked at the dates- they've been in contact for years.
Your finger traced over her name.
"Charlotte." Huh. Sounds a lot like harlot-
You shook your head. You cant stay here for too long, dont want "Charlotte" walking in on you snooping. Since these letters were arranged according to dates, you picked a couple on the bottom, to read later and see what Baldwin has been upto after announcing his engagement.
Pocketing them in your dress, you turned to leave, opening the door only to come face-to-face with her.
She was startled, before looking confused as to who you were.
Of course, she doesnt know you. While you were trying to come up with an excuse, Charlotte's eyes fell on the huge diamond ring on your finger, and she let out a small gasp of realisation and immediately dropped into a graceful courtesy.
"Your Majesty! I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" Alright, maybe the ball can be in your court.
You flicked your wrist to signal her to rise. "That's quite alright..."
"Charlotte." She replied. You hummed. "Right. I apologise, I didnt know this was your room. I was just trying to find the library."
"Oh thats on the other side of the castle, in the North wing!" She said cheerfully, your eyes falling on that dimpled smile of hers.
"Hm, you seem to know a lot about the castle." You remarked, a little bitterly.
But perhaps Charlotte didnt catch on. "Oh yes! I spent a lot of time here as a child. My father used to work for the late king." She explained. You continued to study her face, that fair complexion, blemish free skin, rosy cheeks, and hazel eyes adorned with luscious lashes.
"Ah, so you must be close with King Baldwin." You finally said, and you didnt fail to catch the momentary shock in her eyes before she composed herself.
Busted.
"I- hahaha, um, no. We used to play sometimes when we were young, but then the late king passed away, and King Baldwin had to take up new duties." She chuckled nervously.
You sighed dramatically. "Pity. You seem like a lovely gal." Charlotte's eyes widened slightly. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown, I guess." You mumbled as you moved past her.
"Y-your Majesty!" She called out from behind you. You looked at her nervous face as she bit her lip, trying to come up with the words.
"Yes?"
"I- I need your help." She gulped. "King Baldwin-"
"Y/N!" You whipped your head around to find Baldwin at the other end of the hall, marching over towards you two. His pace was fast and... somewhat angry.
He came to a halt, taking your face in his hands before kissing your forehead hard. "I've been looking for you everywhere, princess!" He hugged you, pulling your head into his chest. "You had me so worried!"
While your head was shoved against his chest, you managed to catch a glimpse of Charlotte looking at Baldwin with desperation, and tears welling up in her eyes. After a little struggle, you finally managed to push yourself away from Baldwin, but he immediately took ahold of your arms, not letting you get away from him. Or-
pulling you away from Charlotte.
The lady continued to look at Baldwin with those barely suppressed anguish, but he refused to spare her a glance. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and began pushing you in the opposite direction.
"Come on, princess. You need to be in bed resting." He said to you, still not acknowledging her.
"Your Majesty, I need to talk-" Charlotte called out.
"We'll talk later, Lady Charlotte."Baldwin continued to pull you along with him. "Your Majesty-"
"I said- later." He finally looked over his shoulder, and you were astonished to see the mean glare he cast her.
Charlotte finally bowed her head in submission.
As you both reached your room, Baldwin seemed to finally return to his usual self. "Oh princess, I just felt like my heart dropped when I was informed you werent in your room! You know the physicians have been emphasising bed rest-"
"What just happened back there, Baldwin?" You cut off his rambling.
"What was what, dear?"
"Baldwin." Your tone turned dead serious. "Why did you pull me away from her? What was Charlotte going to tell me?"
He looked into your eyes, and you could see the gears turning in his head. "Do not lie to me, Baldwin." You warned.
His gaze turned sharp. "I just didnt want you to listen to anything she had to say." He sat on your bed, leaning forward as he clasped his hands. "She's... not in the right state of mind."
Ah. So she's "crazy".
"Why is she not in the right mind? And why is she here then?" You demanded answers.
Baldwin sighed, rubbing his temples. "You should not be burdened with that. I am... handling it." He got up, taking your hands in his. "Just trust me, princess. I am doing this to protect you."
Fuck. That.
You wanted to backhand him so bad, but you also did not want your head chopped off. Seriously though... the nerve men have. To not only frame Charlotte as being "off her meds" but also basically admit to cheating because he's doing this to "protect you", what kind of bullshit is that?
But alas, your time machine was still not fixed and if the most
"pious" man could be cheating on you with a smile plastered on his face, you didnt think any other man of this era would fair any better.
So you played the fool.
"Of course I trust you, Baldwin." You let him kiss your hairline sweetly, though you felt anything but.
-
It didn't surprise you the next day when you tried to look for Lady Charlotte, only to be told that she left the day before, in the dead of the night.
Baldwin couldnt be looking anymore guilty than he is at the moments. Seriously, kicking out your lover the day your fiancee finds out about her existence?
You scoffed. He can do whatever the hell he wants, you're going to be leaving for Egypt soon anyways.
Returning to your room, you decided to read the letters that you had stole from Charlotte's room yesterday.
The 4 letters you had managed to take, all were from Baldwin detailing that he would "help her" and "cares for her still", etc. However, the last letter, the latest one, dated to almost 10 days ago, the same time you were away in Egypt, told Charlotte that he had been cured of leprosy, and would be soon able to get her the "cure" too. But this letter, it was signed off as "King Baldwin IV" and not "Baldwin" as in other letters.
All the previous letters, all of them were months old, or at the very least, they were all written before he announced his engagement. Which meant that for more than a month now, Baldwin hadnt written to her, kind of surprising, since he wrote to her- according to the dates, at least every two weeks. So why hadnt he wrote to her after deciding to marry you? He never mentioned you to her before-
You looked up in realisation. Did... did Baldwin plan to use you as a universal "cure"? You exhaled sharply in disbelief. No, no way. Baldwin doesnt actually believe in all that religious mumbo jumbo about you being an "angel sent by God who has magic healing powers". But-
Your heart sank. Of course, he does. Thats why he's making that "royal body of physicians", the best from around the world, to study you. He never wanted to study the female body to help your period cramps! He's gonna use you as a fucking lab rat to make himself and his people invincible! He wants you to cure them all!
What happens- what happens when he realises that I cant cure anyone? What's he going to do to me?
Your throat ran dry at the silent answer. You've read about medieval torture. They're brutal.
You heard footsteps coming towards your room, so you quickly his your letters and tried to look normal again.
"Princess?" Baldwin knocked before entering, not waiting for your permission. He beamed as he looked at you, walking upto you to kiss your cheek, but frowned immediately. "Princess, you're sweating. Are you okay?"
You wiped the cold sweat quickly. Nodding at him, you changed the subject. "Where are you going?" You asked, looking at his clothes.
"Oh! I'm going hunting! Its been a while, and I read somewhere that bone marrow is very nutritious for the body, so I'm going to hunt some animals for you." He explained ecstatically before grinning at you as he leaned down to your level. "But since its been so long since I last went hunting, I decided I needed some good luck. So... princess, will you bless me with some luck?"
"W-what?" You stammered out at the proximity. He turned his cheek, glancing at you expectantly. Oh, he cant be serious.
"Do you want your king, your soon-to-be husband to die?" He teased, but at the same time, you knew he wouldnt leave until you did what he wanted.
Swallowing thickly, you leaned in slowly and gave him a quick peck on his cheek, right where his dimple appeared when you did. Immediately, he turned face back to you and grabbed your head to steady and planted a wet kiss on your forehead.
"My luckiest charm!" He chuckled, pinching your nose as your flushed. "I'll be back before dinner!" He said on his way out.
-
3 hours later, you had finally decided to leave. You cant wait until another week and who knows if Baldwin will even let you leave then? What if he figures out that there is no family in Egypt for you and decides to lock you away in the dungeons to be experimented on?
Ironic how you as a scientist will now be a guinea pig for medieval era "scientists".
You had sneaked out of your room without anyone noticing, a feat in itself since the place is crawling with knights and servants.
But of course, Baldwin would've made sure there was at least one person tailing your every move.
"Princess Y/n?" The knight commander of your security detail called out. What were the odds of him leaving his post at the front of the castle, to walk in on you mounting a horse in the stables at the back of this castle? "Where are you going? His Majesty told me that you would be resting in your room today."
You blinked at him, trying to come up with an excuse. "I- I-"
He looked at you with even more concern, however that would start turning into suspicion soon if you don't answer him soon.
"Chapel!" You blurted out. "I- I am going to the royal chapel... to uh- isolate myself."
"Isolate?"
"Y-yes, because of my- um flow. I do not want to risk his majesty or- anyone getting sick because of me." The knight commander seemed satisfied with your explanation. He nodded, signalling a couple of other knights his way. "Very well, princess. Let these knights accompany you to the chapel, and they will keep guard while you isolate yourself inside."
You know he wouldnt let you go without knights, so you dont argue. Besides, the royal chapel is huge. You're sure you can sneak out of there unnoticed by these knights.
-
At the chapel, you waited until it was dark and the last of the church staff had taken their leave. You had found a small window to squeeze through, but just then, one of the knights knocked on the door of your chapel.
You didnt answer at first, hoping that they'd think you were asleep and dont disturb you again. However, they knocked again, this time with more persistence.
Grumbling, you returned to your bed and messed up your hair, pretending like you just woke up.
"Yes?"
The knight barged in, looking spooked. "A-apologies for waking you up, princess but-! But his majesty-!" You got up from your bed, brows furrowing.
"His Majesty has been injured during the hunt!" He stammered out.
Your eyes widened. Baldwin got injured? The knight began ushering you out of the chapel. "We must return to palace now! Its not safe!"
"What? Why?" You stopped him from helping you mount your horse. He looked at the other knights who were all on high alert as they kept looking around.
"The king was shot by an arrow!"
-
You were now back at the castle, against your will, so running away will have to wait. You were going to go to your room, but the knight commander ushered you towards Baldwin's.
"Why am I going there?" You asked as he escorted you.
"The king is injured." He replied. "So? Fetch the physicians."
"I did." He stopped to look at you. "But His Majesty has refused them from helping. He asked for you specially."
Oh no. Is he- is he going to make you "heal" him again? But you dont have any of your medicinal potions anymore. So when he realises you cant heal him-
You stood in front of his door.
Will he kill me?
You entered the room, spotting him lying on the bed bare chested, with an arrow stuck in his left shoulder blade.
Baldwin's eyes were closed, but his brows were furrowed in pain, sweat glistening from his entire body.
As you walked near, you spotted the bandages and ointments left by the physicians.
"B-Baldwin?" Your voice was so small, heart thumping against your chest as his eyes fluttered open weakly.
"P-princess?" He sounded so frail. Somehow, despite the state he was in, he managed to smile. "You came?"
You nodded. "You asked for me."
"I did. Only you can heal me from this. Only you can save me from death."
Save him?
You had him sit up to inspect the wound. "I-" Your eyes narrowed at the wound, and then at his face.
"Baldwin." He hummed weakly in response. Gritting your teeth, you ripped out the arrow from his shoulder, making him gasp in pain. "What did you do that for?!"
You waved the arrow in his face. "This hadnt penetrated through your shoulder! It wasnt even in that deep!" You threw the arrow to your side. "You werent dying! You're not even close to dying!"
He pouted, rubbing his shoulder where a small hole was. "So? It still hurt. Just bandage me-"
"Why didnt you have the physicians do it for you?!"
"Why would I when I have you? Come on, nurse me back to health, princess." He sighed when you glared at him. "Okay fine. I only called for you because well- you've been very distant with me."
Your nostril flared. "And whose fault is that?" You gritted out before turning to leave.
"Wait, princess-" He called out from behind. You werent going to listen to another word- another lie! Twisting the handle, you opened the door, only for it to be slammed shut by hand coming over you.
"Princess~" Baldwin turned you around, pushing you against the door as he locked it. "You arent going anywhere until we clear this out."
You pushed him away. "I dont want to clear it out." Baldwin's brows rose at your harsh tone. You turned around to leave again but Baldwin grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest.
"Y/n." His eyes pierced through you. "Why are you acting like this?"
You didnt answer. "Let me go, Baldwin." "No. Answer me-" "Let me go, Baldwin." "Princess, youre being unfair to me. What did I do to deserve such harshness from the one person I love the most-"
"You kissed Charlotte."
The color drained from his face, and the shock of being caught made him release your wrist. "Did Charlotte tell you this?"
Before either of you could react, you slapped him. Baldwin stared at you in shock, holding his cheek. You just slapped a king- the king of the HOLY LAND, but you honestly couldnt bring yourself to care about the conseuquences of your actions.
You backed away from him as tears pooled into your eyes. "You arent even denying it. You kissed her."
"Charlotte kissed me-"
"But you didnt push her back!" You screamed, tears finally flowing free. "I saw it- I fucking saw it, Baldwin!"
"Y/n listen to me-"
"If you loved Charlotte, if you planned on getting back with her, why did you propose to me?! I never wanted to marry you, Baldwin, so why did you lead me on?!"
"Thats not true! Just listen-"
"As if fooling around my back wasnt enough, you let her stay inside the castle even after I had returned! I mean I get you didnt think you would ever get to do it due to leprosy, but how desperate did you have to be to bed her while I was still in the castle?!"
"ENOUGH!" He roared, face red from rage. "You will calm down right now, or I will make you calm down!"
You looked at him betrayed and hurt, as Baldwin closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his his nose, taking deep breaths to collect himself.
"You've accused me of something. I deserve to explain myself." He stated.
"Charlotte and I were engaged when we were just children. Her father used to work for my father, as a knight. When he was on his deathbed due to getting wounded gravely when he saved my father, he made me promise that I would always take care of Charlotte." He paused before continuing. "When I found out I had leprosy, I broke off our engagement and when she came of age, I found her a suitable noble to marry. Eventually, they had a son. Her husband... he eventually lost all of his land and money in a gamble. So I tried to help Charlotte financially over the years, because I was the one who found her this man. She didnt deserve to be married to such man."
He recalled the events. "One day, Charlotte wrote to me that her husband had fallen sick. Terribly so. He kept on coughing and coughing until he began hacking up blood. My physicians told me that he had pthisis as the Greeks call it, or "consumption."
You remember studying about medival diseases- one of which was "consumption". Or in modern day- "Tuberculosis."
"I tried to help out, but there was no cure. The man died a slow and painful death. Charlotte loved her husband, despite all his faults, so his death did take a toll on her mentally. I continued to support her, but there was only so much I could do as a leper king. Things seemed to be going well until last year, when her son fell sick. The physicians said he was suffering with consumption as well, but it was still in the early stages so they had hope they could treat it. They took his son with them to the infirmary in Byzantine, where the best possible care would be provided for him. I made sure of it." He sighed. "But the odds were not in his favour. I got a letter from the head physician that Charlotte's son would not survive the winter. Charlotte was there with her son, day and night, she'd never leave his side. The physicians told her about her son's life expectancy. As expected, she was devastated, but at least now she could prepare herself and spend the rest of his days together."
"Then I announced our engagement, and I didnt write to Charlotte because I didnt think it would be appropriate to share this news with her at such a pivotal time. However, news must've reached her about my leprosy being cured and before I knew it, she was here. You were still in Egypt when Charlotte came, and she wanted to meet you. At first I thought it was because she wanted to congratulate you, but I found out that it was because she-" Baldwin shook his head, before looking right at you. "She thought you could cure her son."
"What? Why would she-" Of course, everyone thinks youre made of magic because of Baldwin.
"That's not the worst part. Charlotte's son was already dead before she had even reached Jerusalem. The physician informed me of his death, and that he had warned Charlotte of it too, but she still came here instead of being with her son."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "She came here because you asked her to-"
"I didnt! Why would I do that? Especially when you werent even here to help her?" Baldwin took a deep breath before continuing on. "When I informed her of her son's death- She lost it. She lost herself. I just- I promised to take care of her, Y/n."
"So you kissed her? To make her fall in love with you? Was that the plan?"
"I didnt kiss her, she kissed me!" Baldwin gritted out. "Even after her son's death, she wanted to meet you so that you could bring her son back to life. No matter how much I explained that it isnt possible to bring him back, she wouldnt listen. I told her that you're not some sort of witch that cast a spell to cure me-"
"So why did she kiss you?" You cut him off.
Baldwin licked his lips. "Charlotte knew the story of how you cured me. She figured that if she cant get you, then she can have me help her. In her head, she thought that since I drank your water that had your saliva, I had your essence- your healing abilities in me. So, she kissed me."
He could see the realisation dawning on you. Charlotte kissed him to get your "healing power"?
"I didnt push her back- because I was surprised. And then I pitied her. I didnt know how to break it to her again that nothing can bring her son back. That she was all alone now. Because of me. I had her marry that man, who got consumption, and then his son contracted it as well. I am the reason for her losing everything!" His eyes twinkled with tears, but he didnt let one tear slip.
Wait a minute. If Baldwin knew her son was dying and didnt call her here, then-
You closed your eyes. Fucking Guy.
Of course, only he'd be the one to address the letter as "King Baldwin IV". And you already figured out why he called Charlotte.
"We can kill Baldwin by making him sick again" Guy thought that Charlotte would bring her son, or at the very least bring a series of diseases from the Byzantine infirmary to infect Baldwin with.
Fucking idiot.
Baldwin took your hands in his. "Princess, I never cheated on you. I know I should've told you about Charlotte but... I didnt want to burden you. You already are busy trying to find your family and when you returned, you were tired and then you had your flow. I just- I didnt want to pile up more stuff on you." His hand cupped your cheek tenderly. "You know that I love you. You know that my affection for you is real. Thats why it hurt you so much when saw you her kissing me, because deep down, you knew I wouldn't betray you like this."
His blue were firm as he spoke the next words with conviction.
"You are the beginning of my soul. And you are the end of it."
Tears slipped down your face as you felt him kiss your forehead before wrapping you in his arms, continuing to kiss your forehead again and again.
Finally, you wrapped your arms around him, nodding. Accepting.
Sniffling, you pulled away before tugging him to sit on the bed as you began bandaging his shoulder. Fortunately, the wound wasnt too deep, so you didnt need to introduce "sutures" to medieval era.
Baldwin smiled softly as you tied his bandage, taking your hand and pressing a kiss on top of it. "I'm all better now." You smiled sadly.
"What?" He asked you. You sniffled again. "Princess, what is it?" He pulled you to sit on his lap, tapping your chin.
"I slapped you." You reminded him.
He nodded. "I remember."
"I'm sorry." "I know." He smiled assuringly. Honestly, you were so overcome with emotion that you hadnt realised the risk you took. Baldwin could've easily had your head chopped off at the offence.
"You're not mad?" You whispered, peeking at him from your lashes. He hummed thoughtfully. "No, not mad. I am hurt by your lack of trust me in though, but I take half the blame in this as you did see someone kissing me." He grinned at you. "I do know how you can make it up to me though."
You raised a brow.
"How about... you and I..." he tipped your chin to meet his eyes as he leaned close. "... cuddle tonight?"
"You want cuddles?" You asked, lips quirking at his childishness. He nodded excitedly. "Yes. As you know, I am gravely injured, I need all the love and attention from my beloved angel~" You squealed as he pulled you down with him on the mattress, bursting into giggles as he kissed your cheeks again and again.
After 10 minutes or so of you playing with his hair as he dreamily sighed, you suddenly had a question.
"Baldwin?" He hummed. "How did you get an arrow in your shoulder? You went hunting animals with knights."
Baldwin, with his eyes still closed, replied. "If I tell you, you'll get mad."
You tugged at his hair, making him open one eye. "Baldwin~" You warned.
"Fine, fine, I'll tell you." He rested his head on his palm. "Well, since you were being distant to me and the knight commander told me you had housed yourself in the royal chapel under the excuse of "not wanting to make me sick", I figured I need to find a way to make you be close to me..."
Your face dropped at realisation.
"YOU SHOT YOURSELF WITH AN ARROW?!"
He shook his head in disbelief. "No, dont be silly. How would that be even possible?" You sighed in relief.
"I threatened my expert archer to shoot me with an arrow."
-
Sibylla burst through the door as soon as she had heard of her brother's grave injury, only to witness an odd sight:
Baldwin, with his shoulder bandaged, was doing sit-ups in front of Y/n, who was sitting on his bed, glaring at him with angry tears streaming down her face.
"Princess~ I said I'm sorryyyyy" Sibylla giggled, watching her younger sibling whine to you, but he shut up as another tear slipped down your cheek.
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So, thoughts?
None of you guessed that reason for the kiss,did you? I better fucking get all the comments and asks or else I'm wreaking havoc
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egophiliac · 16 hours
Note
Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !
Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)
I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!
someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)
uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE
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#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 4 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 4 spoilers#mel is so cute but mal fits with the rest of the draconias better#eng version no you were supposed to save me not make things MORE confusing#anyway raverne huh#that uh. that sure feels like it's supposed to evoke raven doesn't it.#what does it mean WHAT DOES IT MEAN#hold on i'm going to flail around embarrassingly about anime character theories now#(okay first a disclaimer: i do think we need to sit down as a fandom at some point)#(and have a discussion about exactly what is actual canon versus meta speculation versus jokes)#(because i think there has been. some confusion. over that re:crowley and raverne specifically)#(but i do feel justified in being like THEY ARE PROBABLY CONNECTED SOMEHOW RIGHT?! right now)#like i really don't think it's as simple as crowley being raverne but with memory loss or something#(and if they pull that on us i'm going to need an EXTREMELY good explanation to go with it to justify that)#they've gone out of their way several times now to make a point about them acting and sounding different and it feels very intentional to m#(and once again: i super 100% absolutely do not believe that lilia wouldn't recognize him with the top half of his face covered)#i just think the contradictions are a lot stronger than the connections right now but there ARE some connections and i'm 👀ing at them#to be fair the connections are mostly meta like crowley being diablo/raverne being evocative of raven#also the general 'raverne mysteriously disappeared and apparently had distinctive eyes' thing#versus 'crowley's past is unknown and he never shows his eyes'#(i will argue that crowley DOES seem to have some kind of canon connection to briar valley)#(since he is clearly some sort of fae and the masks are a briar valley thing)#and that is kinda it right now isn't it#okay hold on i had to delete some tags because i used too many (thanks tumblr for letting me know and not just vanishing them OH WAIT)#so tl;dr: i'm in the 'crowley is connected to raverne somehow but it's more complicated than just him being in disguise' camp personally#but that will probably change as we get more info and also don't take this as an anti-speculation thing because i love theories HOORAY
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dreaming of saturn // theodore nott x fem reader
playlist : saturn - sza
summary: theodore nott seems so out of reach to most people yet you have him right in your arms.
y/n used, established relationship , FLUFF
masterlist
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"theo , get off me i need to get something from my dorm!" you pleaded as the boy with his head laying on your lap simply crossed his arms and shook his head.
"im not gonna let you go." he stated simply , nustling further into you.
"theodore. theodore! please im really cold i need to go get a hoodie from my dorm," you begged as the boy opened his eyes and perked up.
you stared in confusion at his reaction before he sat up slightly and slipped his slytherin hoodie off, handing it you with a happy smile. you almost melted at the sight.
"thanks theo" you smiled at him with a light blush before putting it on and allowing the boy to rest back onto you.
"it looks better on you anyways , keep it." he winked at you with a grin before closing his eyes again.
you admired him carefully , moving your hand to run through his hair softly , theo leaning into your touch with a blissful smile.
"whats your favourite planet theo?" you asked in a hushed tone as the boys eyebrows furrowed in confusion , his eyes opening to look up at you.
"why?"
"you take astronomy right? you know more about the planets than me. so which is your favourite and why? im just..curious" you reasoned as he hummed and closed his eyes again.
"saturn." he stated simply.
"that was quick. how come?" you asked in curiousity , you werent allowed to take astronomy because you already signed up for other classes instead- so naturally you wanted to expand your knowledge on the topic.
"its got nothing to do with anything scientific or meaningful , its just pretty. like you." he said as you gasped at his last two words.
"you think im not meaningful?!" you dramatically asked in fake offence , laughing at the boys horrified face as he began to stutter out an argument.
"no its not that - definitely not! you mean everything to me! youre just...really pretty. like saturn" he mumbled and rambled trying hard to not upset you.
"dont worry theo , i was joking!" you laughed as he let out a sigh of relief, "ive always liked the moon."
"thats not a planet." theo scoffed in amusement.
"hey dont be rude of course i know that!" you both laughed , "but i like the moon because its pretty, like you."
"you cant call me pretty." he crossed his arms in frustration.
"and why not?" you teased.
"im handsome - not pretty" he complained , blushing red when you laugh and place a kiss on his cheek.
"you're both, does being called pretty damage your little male ego?" you laughed at him.
"shut up" he mumbled.
"im only joking theo , youre more than pretty and handsome , i mean look at that beautiful face!" you grinned and pushed his curls off his forehead.
he blushed deeply and tried to hide his face from you, leading you to giggle and kiss his cheek that was facing you.
meanwhile across the common room , mattheo and draco watch you from a distance.
"i dont get how she does it." mattheo said in astonishment , watching as you tickled theodore and made him smile and laugh so brightly.
"its incredible. must be some kind of magic." draco stated , equally as intruiged.
"yeah , pretty , funny and smart y/n magic," mattheo scoffed as draco nodded , acknowlegding that in reality, you were the full package.
"youre right. i honestly dont blame him." draco shrugged.
there was a short silence before mattheo finally looked away fromy you and theo , turning to draco and making draco mirror his movements.
"10 galleons that he says i love you first." mattheo stuck his hand out for draco to shake.
draco seemed skeptical before taking his hand and shaking it firmly , "sure, ill bet the latter then."
mattheo smirked at him , assuming it was obvious theodore would infact say i love you before you did.
"i cant believe you just bet that?! merlin malfoy you have no emotional intelligence do you!" mattheo laughed , assuming he had already won the bet.
"jokes on you riddle , y/n already told theo she loves him. yesterday , youd be suprised how much theo confines in me," malfoy smirked seeing mattheos shocked face.
"what?!" mattheo seethed , "why wouldnt he tell me first? did he say it back?!"
draco scoffed and looked from you two and back to mattheo , "is that even a question?"
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
Text
Heart IV
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: A soft day off
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"Well, good morning, sunshine," Ingrid coos as you wander out of your room.
You've got a major case of bedhead, still dressed in your crumpled pyjamas. You lift your arms up for uppies and Ingrid instantly puts you on her hip, turning back to stirring the eggs on the stovetop.
You're still very sleepy so Ingrid takes this moment to give you your medication.
"Open, please."
She drops the pills into your mouth and lets you swallow them down with a sippy cup of juice.
You're very good at taking your medication and it seems to perk you up a little as Ingrid dishes up breakfast.
It's a slow day, the last of the international break.
Ingrid's matches for Norway had finished earlier than other countries so she'd flown home immediately to get the most out of this day off before training started up again tomorrow.
"Would you go and get your Mami for me? I think she's still in bed."
You're helped down from the counter and wander off to Mami and Mama's room.
Mama was right, of course. Mami was still a lump in the middle of the bed, snoozing carelessly against her pillow. Bagheera sits next to her.
You know Mama told you to get Mami up but you spot her phone on charge a little way away and you go to grab it.
Tia Alexia has lots of games on her phone that she lets you play and you wonder if Mami has those games too.
Her phone is locked though so you can't check but you do spot her camera. You can use her camera app without logging in.
Mami and Mama use their camera apps a lot for lots of photos of you and them together. You've never used it on your own though and you're curious.
You swipe onto the app and adjust it so it's showing Mami and Bagheera in frame. There's a ray of sun coming in through the curtains and you want to capture that too.
The shutter sounds when you press the button and Mami jerks awake.
Her movement shocks Bagheera off the bed and she rubs her eyes. Mami looks around in shock before her features soften when she looks at you.
"Good morning, sunshine," She says," Is that my phone?"
"Morning, Mami!" You chirp, climbing up onto the bed with her," I took a picture!"
You can't access it without logging in so Mami unlocks her phone so you can show it to her.
Her mouth is wide open, mid snore, and Bagheera's got her leg sticking upright as she cleans herself. But you've got the sunbeam very clearly on camera so you're very happy.
Mami laughs. "That's a nice picture!"
"I know!" You giggle as she tickles your tummy. "Oh! Mama said it's time for breakfast! She made eggs!"
"Well, we can't leave Mama by herself! Vamos, sunshine!"
Your favourite days are days off. You get to cuddle with Mama and Mami and get lots of kisses because they love you so much.
You eat breakfast on the sofa for once in front of the tv before you migrate to playing with Bagheera on the floor. She's got a bell on a string that you wave at her.
She bats it a few times before grabbing the bell in her mouth and pulling the stick from your hand.
You giggle and Bagheera cocks her head to the side at the sound.
She looks adorable and you pat Mami's leg.
"Hmm? What is it?"
"Can I have your phone please?" You ask and Mami hands it to you.
You swipe onto her camera quickly and take your pictures of Bagheera looking very cute. She gets bored eventually of sitting in the same spot and curls up in her kitty bed and you migrate back up onto the sofa.
Mama adjusts you so you're on her lap and she pulls up your shirt to run her fingers over your Santa Heart scars.
She does that a lot. She checks them twice every day. Usually when you wake up and then at bathtime. She says that it's just so she knows they're healing correctly but they've been healed for a while now and Mami says it's because Mama is a worrier.
You smile at her though and raise the camera up to take a picture of her face.
You laugh at the silly face she pulls so you snap a few more.
"Mami!" You whine when Mami tries to take her phone back.
"I need it, sunshine," She laughs," It's not just a camera, you know."
You think of the camera hanging in Mama and Mami's room. You know you're not allowed to touch it by yourself because it's big and heavy and it's for the pictures when Mami thinks Mama is looking especially beautiful.
You think that you'd like a camera like that so you ask. You asked Santa for a new heart and you got it. You ask Mama for a camera for yourself too.
"Like Mami's, please?"
Mama hums as she thinks about it, carding her fingers through your hair. "That's a little big for you, sunshine. Maybe when you're older."
You deflate. "Oh."
"But we can get you a polaroid," Mama continues," That's good for your age and it means that your pictures immediately get printed out too."
"Really?" You perk up again.
"We'll pick one out together," Mami says, already booting up her laptop." Come here. Let's have a look."
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godslino · 1 day
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HARD LAUNCH | minho drabble. established relationship.
“Do you guys have french fries?”
“Minho.” you hiss, nudging his shin beneath the table.
He cocks an eyebrow before turning back to the waitress. She smiles softly, laughing at the two of you. 
“We do, yes.” 
“Wonderful,” Minho grins, “We’ll have a side order of those too.”
“Perfect. I’ll put that in for you guys and check back soon.” The waitress says happily, collecting the menus and scurrying off to tend to another table.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, you groan, covering your face with your hands. 
“Why would you do that?” 
Minho chuckles, shakes his head probably. You wouldn’t know since you can’t see him.
“Do what?”
Still using one hand to cover your eyes, you pull the other away, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I told you I’d be fine. Why’d you have to ask for french fries? That’s so embarrassing.”
Minho hums. Unbothered. “You know what’s worse?”
“Literally nothing.” you mumble, returning your other hand to your face. It only serves to muffle your voice more. “This is humiliating. We’re in a nice restaurant and you ordered french fries because of me. Oh God. I’m going to hide in the bathroom.”
A good choice, you think. Minho’s in god damn slacks for crying out loud. Every second that passes is another second that your pity order of french fries is probably spending in the deep fryer, right next to the lobster tail and shrimp tartar that everyone else has a mature enough palate to eat. 
Before you can move to get up and make a beeline for the toilet, you feel Minho’s fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling until your hands give way to your face. You crack one eye open and then the other, his amused expression coming into view.
“What’s worse than ordering french fries is me knowing you’ll be hungry if there isn’t something familiar for you on the table.” he says pointedly, like your reason for feeling embarrassed is unnecessary. “Besides, who said I didn’t want any?”
“Min, look around,” you say, turning your head to glance at the room, “The napkins are cloth. Cloth! Nicer than my bed sheets. We can’t be seen eating french fries in a place like this. I told you I’d be—”
“—fine. Because as long as you’re here I can do anything.” Minho recites, word for word, cutting you off. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, spreads like wildfire when Minho smiles and leans on to his forearms. His button up tightens over his shoulders, hugs his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.
“Just like how you’re doing this for me, let me do something for you.” 
You and Minho have been seeing each other for four months now, but even at that, you’re still not used to his straightforwardness. 
Seeing Minho has been nothing short of a dream. What started as just interacting at parties because of mutual friends eventually gave way to him asking for your number, and then hanging out separate from your friend group, until one day he plucked up the courage to ask you out. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable, always spending every free moment together. Laughing, talking, even sometimes just existing in the same space. It’s nice. So, so nice.
“Shouldn’t I be the one blushing right now?” Minho teases.
“Shut up.” you say, tearing your gaze away from him.
He laughs again before reaching out and placing a hand on top of yours. Soft. Minho is unbelievably soft.
It’s the thing you love the most about him. But more than that, more than the delicate skin of his fingers or the brush of his lips against yours, you love the softness of his eyes.
Minho is hard to crack, his emotions shrouded most of the time. Not that he wants to be, but because that’s just how he operates, or so you’ve learned. 
But despite all of that, his eyes are a dead giveaway. When he’s looking at pictures of his cats, or staring at you from across the room, or right now as steaming plates of some of the finest cuisine Seoul has to offer are being placed in front of him.
“Holy shit.” he whispers, staring in awe as the waitress walks away from the table.
“Is it rude for me to take a picture? Like, would anyone get offended?” 
Minho scoffs. “Babe, I would be offended if you didn’t document this right now.”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pulling out your phone.
“Do I get to be in it this time?”
You look up to find Minho pouting across the table. Another thing about your relationship— nobody knows yet. 
You’ve been teasing about the possibility of a boyfriend for two months now, you and Minho only having made it official about a few weeks ago. The most anyone has been able to see are carefully positioned photos where only his hand or other inconspicuous parts of him are visible.
It’s not that you don’t want people to know. It’s just hard with his job and all. Privacy reasons.
"For someone who likes to claim that people won't give me a hard time because of your fame you sure do seem eager to test that theory."
Minho smiles mischievously. “Well, yes. But I’m also waiting because I want to show you off.”
You busy yourself with opening your camera app to stop the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. You big flirt.”
Minho laughs but obliges, scoots back to let you get a good few pictures of the food. 
Photos aren’t enough to do it justice, though. So you opt for a video, scanning the table with your camera, only the bottom half of his torso visible across the table. A silk white button up only three-fourths of the way buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Minho watches silently, his face unreadable. And then, at the last second, he dips his head down so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening until his face is fully in the shot, a shit-eating grin pushing his eyes into crescent moons.
“Min!” you laugh, ending the recording. 
He chuckles, straightening back out. “Post it.”
“Are you insane?”
“No, but I’m going to be if you don’t post it and then eat with me.” He nudges the plate of french fries towards you. “Come on.”
“You really want me to post it? You’re sure?”
Minho smiles. Soft. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.” he says, neither of you willing to address the weight of his words.
He grabs your hand, plants a kiss on the back of your knuckles. The resulting flip of your stomach is enough to give you the courage to hit post and tuck your phone away.
Whatever happens, you’ll deal with it later. Together.
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489 notes · View notes
luveline · 13 hours
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Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!
ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k
cw reader has a concussion
Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 
You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 
He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 
“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 
Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 
“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 
He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 
“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 
Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 
You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 
“Hi Hotch.” 
“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 
“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”
“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 
“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 
Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 
“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her calf and she slipped down the stairs.” 
“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 
JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 
He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 
You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 
She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 
“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 
Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 
You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 
Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 
“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 
JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   
Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 
JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 
He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 
You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 
You nod into your rubbing. 
“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 
“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 
“Do you need help?” 
“Not for the fruit.” 
“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 
“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 
He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 
“You could be a doctor.” 
“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 
“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 
“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 
You stare up at him. “You want to?” 
“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 
“My boyfriend might not like it.” 
Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 
“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 
You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 
That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.
You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 
“Sorry,” he murmurs. 
“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 
“Why not?” 
“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 
“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 
He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 
“Yes?” 
You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 
“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 
“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 
“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 
“Why?” 
“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 
You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 
Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 
“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 
“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 
“I’d like to go back.” 
“Home?” 
“For breakfast.” 
“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 
“What?” you ask. 
You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 
He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 
508 notes · View notes
januaryembrs · 14 hours
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YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader
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Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶
Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?
Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)
warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.
authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship
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There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 
He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 
Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?
Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 
He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 
They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 
“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 
Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.
They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 
She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 
Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 
They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.
Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 
Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 
“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 
They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 
Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 
He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 
“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”
They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”
“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.���
His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 
“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 
She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 
“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 
“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 
She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 
“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”
The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 
“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”
Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 
“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 
Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 
Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 
His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 
Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 
“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 
“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 
“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 
“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”
She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 
“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”
He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 
He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 
Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 
“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”
And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.
She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 
She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 
It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 
“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 
But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 
“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 
She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 
“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”
“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 
“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”
“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”
But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 
Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 
He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 
“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”
She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 
“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 
His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 
Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 
She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’
She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 
He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 
They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 
He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 
She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 
And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 
Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 
But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 
It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 
He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 
The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 
He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 
“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 
She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 
“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 
“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 
 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 
And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 
Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 
“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 
She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 
“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 
Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”
 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 
She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”
His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 
She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.
“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”
His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 
“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 
She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 
“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.
“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 
She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”
He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”
She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 
“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 
Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 
Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 
But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 
She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”
Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 
466 notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 2 days
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Hi, can i request an angst fic? insecure eddie where there is a misunderstanding with soft reader and due to his rejection trauma, he acts douchy as a defense mechanism. Soft reader, not used to get treated harshly, she turns cold. But then when eddie figured out that reader is more important than his ego, he finally trying to resolve his trauma before reconcile back with reader, although took some time and effort. Happy ending!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Push away
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Eddie knew he protected his feelings to an extreme. He hurt people before they could hurt him. He refused to be close to anyone, people always left. He was horrible at relationships. The second he felt the walls caving in, he was out the door.
Not many people had good things to say about him, and he didn't give them opportunities to.
Y/N was a soft and polite girl. She was quiet but spoke passionately. Y/N didn't talk to many people, but no one had anything bad to say about her. Until Eddie Munson proved that theory wrong.
~~~
Y/N couldn't remember when her crush on Eddie surfaced, but he was all she could think about. They had some classes together, and he sat across the room but at her eye level. She could stare and daydream for as long as she wanted.
It took her weeks to get the courage to say something to him, but she was glad she did. Because after that, a friendship began.
She didn't want to scare him off with her feelings, so she settled for just being his friend first. She could get to know him and enjoy being with him without having it mean anything more.
Eddie actually really enjoyed having her around. He wasn't the best at letting anyone in, but something about her felt comforting and warm. His brain was able to shut off around her. Their friendship felt easy to him. He wasn't worried about impressing her or trying to be someone he wasn't. For once, he was able to be just friends with a girl.
They hung out mostly every day. The second school ended, she was in his van and they'd go to his trailer and watch random movies.
The one thing Y/N didn't think through, was how hard it was going to be to act like she wasn't falling for him. They kept everything at a friend level, and she wasn't sure if it was the best idea to push for more. Eddie was a loner, and she should be grateful she made it this far.
But the more they hung out, and the more he wrapped his arm around her shoulder during movies, she couldn't think straight. All she could think about was holding his hand and feeling his lips move against hers.
"What's going on in there?" Eddie's voice caused her to snap into reality. His finger lightly pushed on her forehead.
"Sorry, what?" She blushed, blinking as she moved her eyes away from Eddie's face.
"You were staring and barely moving. You seemed to be in deep thought. Penny for your thoughts?" He reached over and paused the movie. His full attention was on her as she gulped.
She didn't know what to say. There was no way she was going to confess how she felt about him. But maybe she should? He seemed to be more comfortable with her and he constantly was touching her in some type of way.
Oh for fucks sake, go for it
"I have a crush on this guy, and I can't get him out of my head." She whispered, she worried if she said it loud enough it would be more real.
Eddie wasn't sure what he felt, but it wasn't good. He almost felt hurt that she would admit that to his face. But why should he care, it wasn't like they were dating or that he even liked her that way.
"Oh, well. Why don't you ask him out?" Eddie said he tried to sound like he didn't care. He was helping a friend.
"I can't tell if he likes me back. I enjoy having him in my life and I don't want to scare him off."
"Yeah, that's fair. Maybe compliment him, get close, and lean in for a kiss. If he leans in, go for it." Eddie wanted to smack himself. He didn't want her perfect lips to be touching some loser. But again, he was just a friend and he didn't have a say in that.
"Okay, kinda like this?" She whispered, her heart racing out of her chest as she placed her palm on Eddie's thigh. The rough material of his jeans scratched against her skin as she softly moved her hand down to his knee and then back up again.
Eddie felt his breathing stop as she lingered on his thigh. He wanted to look away but her eyes had him in a daze. His stomach flipped and he hated the way he was slightly turned on. He can't be feeling like this, because then he would have to admit he felt something. He searched his brain for an escape, he tried to move his legs but he was paralyzed.
All he could do was watch in horror as she leaned in. Her eyes searched his as she moved closer, her mouth inches away from his.
"Then I'd kiss him, right?" She whispered against his lips, and before he knew it he leaned in.
She felt the weight off of her shoulders as her lips crashed on his. Her eyes closed as she savored the feeling of his soft lips against hers. Her head spun as he gripped her waist and kissed her back. Her thoughts were gone as their kiss deepened. Her hands moved up his thigh, to his chest then around his neck, he pushed her body against his. He swallowed her moans as his tongue licked her bottom lip. She didn't think twice about opening her mouth to allow his tongue to touch hers.
The moment was perfect
The moment was everything she dreamed
It was everything she needed to say the words
She pulled away breathing heavily, and her eyes fluttered open. Eddie slowly blinked, like he wasn't sure where he was as he stared at her.
Then something snapped.
His hands yanked her arms off of him and he flew off the couch. He paced fire into the floor as he walked back and forth.
"What the fuck was that!"
Y/N was taken aback by how angry he sounded. She nervously tried to form an answer.
"I did what you said." Her voice was calm but confused. "I like you, Eddie."
Her words glued his feet to the floor. He was stuck, his feet felt too heavy to pick up as his breathing picked up.
He felt it
He felt the walls caving in. The room got smaller as he struggled to breathe. Her eyes haunted him as she watched. He felt like his body was being crushed between two walls and he couldn't push them apart.
"Well don't," he spat out harshly. She felt her body flinch as his eyes glared down at her. "I mean what is wrong with you? Why did you have to fuck up the friendship we had?"
She really did not understand why he was so angry. Even if he didn't like her, that wouldn't cause him to be so agitated.
"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted me to! You didn't move my hand, and you leaned in. And you kissed me back. I mean you deepened the kiss. I thought that meant you liked me too" She apologized. She worried she might have made him uncomfortable.
"Why would I like you too? What possible idiotic theory are you basing that on?"
She tried not to cry as she stood up. She wasn't sure who the hell was across from her, because it was not the sweet boy she spent her time with.
"Why are you acting like this? I said I was sorry."
"Because I know if I allow myself to have feelings for you, you'll be the one I spend the rest of my life with," Eddie confessed, and that scared him the most.
"Would that be so bad? I know it's scary, but don't you think we should try?" She asked, she slowly moved closer to him. Her hand softly cradled his face.
Her touch turned him into ice. It was all too much and he needed her gone. He needed her out of his mind, his sight, and his life.
"Yes because I'll have to live with the regret of choosing you."
Y/N yanked her hand off of his face like he burned her. She felt like the air was kicked out of her lungs.
"Fuck you," she spat as hot tears rolled down her face. She turned around to grab her jacket off the couch. She didn't bother putting it on, she slammed the door behind her as she left.
The loud bang echoed through the trailer as the walls moved back to their normal distance. Eddie could feel the air returning to his lungs as he dropped to the floor.
He escaped
But he wasn't sure how long the escaping would feel like freedom.
~~~
Eddie figured if she was out of sight, she'd be out of his mind
But he was wrong
She never left his head. Images of her smiling and laughing. But also the image of her crying and leaving. It's been a few days and they haven't talked. He knew they wouldn't, but he didn't think he'd miss her.
He escaped but this time it felt different. It made him feel worse. There wasn't any relief on his shoulders anymore; bricks piled on until it was too heavy to even stand up.
He missed having a friend. He knew he handled the situation horribly, and he wanted to apologize for it.
~~~
Y/N tried to ignore how awful she felt. She was embarrassed and regretted ever telling Eddie she liked him. But at least he showed his true colors and she could begin moving on.
Y/N hadn't seen Eddie since the big blowout, and Monday approached faster than she wanted. She wasn't sure how seeing him would go, but she knew she would ignore him.
~
Eddie had never felt so nervous to pull up to school, a endless pit settled in his stomach as he walked through the parking lot. He kept his eye out for Y/N's car, he wasn't sure if he wanted to find it or not.
Without catching a glimpse of her, Eddie walked into the school. He planned to wait at her locker until she showed up.
~
Y/N rolled her eyes as Eddie stood at her locker.
"Move," She mumbled with a blank stare.
"Can we talk?" Eddie asked, his voice shaky.
"We are already talking more than I wanted, now move and leave me alone." The seriousness in her voice broke Eddie down a bit, but he knew he deserved it.
He nodded and walked off.
But he wasn't going to give up.
~
Y/N sat at their usual table, Eddie wasn't sure if he was welcome to sit or not. He took a deep breath and dropped his tray on the table. She looked up from her lunch and looked right back down.
Eddie coughed and picked at his tray. His eyes kept peeking up to look at her but her head was always down.
"I'm sorry for what I said," Eddie said but she didn't flinch. "It was wrong and you didn't deserve that."
Y/N let out a heavy sigh and stood up.
She looked Eddie straight in the eyes, he took a deep breath as he waited for her to speak.
But she didn't
She gathered her lunch and walked off.
~
Eddie tried to apologize every single day, he switched his words and tried to say what she needed to hear. A week of silence and he couldn't let it go further.
He knew what happened was because of his past trauma and he felt he needed to understand first. Maybe then he could give her an explanation. So, he began therapy.
Within a few appointments, he understood he pushed her away because he was in love with her.
~~~
Y/N finished writing in her journal when she heard a knock at her window. Her curtains were shut, so whoever knocked was a mystery. She slowly stood up and crept towards her window, she was a tad scared but figured a robber wouldn't be asking for entry.
She peeked through the tiny crack of her curtain and saw Eddie's familiar curls. He stood on the small balcony. She sighed and walked back to bed.
Eddie could see her shadow moving and frowned when her lap shut off. Her room was dark and he lost sight of her. But he would stay here all night if he needed to.
He knocked again and called her name, but no response.
Y/N groaned annoyed at the constant knocks, but still remained in bed.
"I'm sorry. I know I fucked up and I might not ever make this up to you. But I figured out why I reacted that way."
His words made Y/N's ears perk, and she sat up in bed.
"I pushed you away because people always left. The people that I cared for, the people I loved. When you kissed me, I loved it. I felt complete like that emptiness those people left was filled by you. So I panicked, I wanted to leave before you left me. Which was wrong. Because I shouldn't have turned on someone that I love."
Y/N gasped as the final words left his lips. She had to pick between her pride and her heart. And she wasn't positive which one led her in the right direction.
"Can I just see you?" his knock was lighter than the rest, and his voice sounded like he was on the cliff of giving up.
She got out of bed and walked to her window. She pulled back the curtain and opened her window. Eddie smiled as he saw her face.
"Hi," he whispered, afraid to speak louder and frighten her.
"Are you saying you are in love with me?"
"I'm trying to, yes. And I don't expect that to fi-"
Eddie was cut off as Y/N captured his lips in a kiss. Eddie didn't hesitate and kissed her back.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he leaned further in the window. Half his body leaned into her room as he chased her lips as she pulled away.
"It doesn't fix everything but I'm ready to forgive you and we'll fix it together." She said against his lips.
"Thank you," he whispered before he connected their lips again.
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Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt
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satorusugurugurl · 2 days
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I love your work so much! I always read it every time you post !! Can I make a request on how JJK men would react to their girl having a voice kink?? It would be insane 😭😭 Thank you so much!!
Voice Kink?!
Summary: JJK men, find out about your voice kink 🥴
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo
Word Count: 4,242
Warnings: smut, public play, dirty talk, oral sex, N-Nanami’s stern voice, whimpering, lots of moans and language
A/N: As someone with a voice kink, I loved this nonnie. 🥴 love it, unekfkrkdkdm moan in my ear talk dirty to me! 🌶🌶🌶 please enjoy!! 💚
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Gojo Satoru:
Gojo yawned as he opened the door to the condo you shared. It was in the late evening, and from the smell of cooked food, he knew you were home. He didn't even bother calling out that he was home, as he'd just texted you in the lobby that he was on his way up. What mattered to him now was taking off his uniform and a hot shower.
Approaching the bedroom, Satoru rubbed at the stiffness in his neck before a groan from the bedroom sounded. A groan that was deep, guttural, and not him. Before he could storm in, another voice sounded, a woman that wasn't you. And it was narrating? Peeking his head in, he watched you folding clothes, your cell phone on the nightstand playing an audiobook.
‘I approached the god of war, gently touching his chest.
‘Stop!’ he shouted, ‘If you don't get out of my sight, I will fuck you’
Satoru blinked, goddamn that male actor was playing the part well and snarling and growling in a deep guttural moan. The narrator went on to describe in detail how the male character was fucking the main heroine. You seemed unfazed by it, folding some of Gojo’s blindfolded and placing it to the side.
‘Your tight cunt is hugging my cock’ The male narrator announced, causing you to stiffen. ‘Do you like that~ hmm? Like when I fuck you, stuff your pussy full of my dick?’
You shifted, rubbing your thighs together, breath coming out in soft gasps as you glanced at your phone. Satoru knew what was going on with you instantly. You were wet. His sweet, innocent girlfriend was wet over a man’s voice growling and groaning, which left him feeling jealous and horny. Do you like it when people groaned and growled? Using their voice to describe what they were doing.
Satoru could easily do that.
You shifted again, whimpering softly before a large hand grabbed the back of your neck. You squeaked as you were bent over the bed, another hand yanking your shorts down. Turning slightly, you stared at Satoru, who was unzipping his pants.
“Satoru, what are you—”
“I'm just going to stuff this pretty cunt full of cock.” he growled, leaning down, rubbing the tip teasingly over the folds of your pussy. “You’re already soaking wet.” His voice vibrated in his chest as he leaned over your body, his mouth against the nape of your neck. “Does hearing someone talk nasty get you dripping? It makes that tight hole throb, begging to be filled and pleased?”
His breath was hot against your skin, sensing a shiver down your spine. “T-Toru~” You felt a slick running down your thigh as Satoru began grinding his cock over your tight entrance.
“The fact that your cunt is drooling all over my fat cock confirms that my sweet girlfriend is secretly a slut.”
“I-I—”
“You what? Go on,” he learned next to your ear, growling into it, causing goosebumps to rise down your arms, “speak up.”
You rocked back, pushing the tip of his cock inside you, causing Satoru to moan. “Yes, yes, I like it when you talk nasty.” your boyfriend laughed out loud, his cock sliding inside of you.
“Good fuckin’ girl~” The bed creaked, freshly folded clothes falling to the ground. “Fuck~” he groaned into your ear, “fucking yes~ mhmm what did that character say~?” your walls clenched, “ ‘Your pussy is hugging my cock~’?”
“Ngggh!” you cried out, fisting the comforter, eyes rolling back as your walls twitched in happiness at his voice. “T-Toooru!”
“No, he said something else that made you rub your legs together.” His teeth grazed over your earlobe. “What~?” Thrust. “Was~?” you cry out, eyes rolling back. “It~?” Satoru shoved his entire cock into you, humming in pondering thought. You were cock drunk, drool pooling underneath you as you panted. “Oh, right!” He pulled out before slamming back in with a snarl. “Something along the lines of—do you like it when I fuck you.” His mouth was against your ear again. “Stuff, you pretty pussy full of my cock?”
It was a combination of the thrusts and his words that had you cumming, legs shaking, buckling as you gushed all over him. Seeing you cum that hard had Satoru laughing in satisfaction as you twitched and tried pulling away from the oversensitivity of just how hard you had cummed. Satoru tilted his head, pouting in faux concern as you tried to stand.
“Awe~ was that too much for my sweetheart to handle~?” Crawling onto the bed, you shook your head with heavy gasps. “Noo~? Oooh, my little slut wants more~?”
“Fuck me~ fuck me, please!” you were so wet and horny, and Satoru just made one of your fantasies come try in a matter of seconds. “Please, Toru! Please!”
“Well, how could I deny my pretty girl when she begs so pretty~?” you glanced back, watching him strip down to nothing. “Face down, baby~ I'm gonna fuck you stupid~”
Geto Suguru:
You were a little buzzed, and your husband was soooo hot. So, of course, you were feeling more than a little needy. You were pulling him down a dark hallway away from the bustling party you were at. He inhaled sharply as you pushed him up against the wall.
“Just what do you think you're doing~?” he questioned in a low, sultry voice, sending shivers down your spine. “Princess?”
“Need you~” you cooed, dipping your hand into his black jeans, smirking as he inhaled. “Need you so bad, Sugu~.”
He groaned deep in his chest, the sound going straight to your pussy. “Princess~ we can't right now~ not right here.” He tilted his head back briefly, watching you blatantly disobey him. Your fingers played with the band of his boxers, causing another hiss to leave his lips. “Princess—”
His tone was much more stern now, leaving you a wet mess. Your husband watched you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling down with a whine. He hummed, cocking an eyebrow as your hand stilled, thighs clenching together. That was a peculiar reaction. Suguru hadn't even said anything remotely dirty, yet here you were, rubbing your thighs together with flushed skin.
“What was that reaction?” he asked with a smug smirk. “Huh, did you like me growling? Being stern?” His hand shot down, grabbing your wrist and pulling it out of his boxers. “Is my pretty princess wet over the sound of my voice?”
“W-What—no! I am not!” you denied, despite your sticky arousal coating your lips and panties.
“Oh, is that so?” Suguru moved, slamming you against the opposite wall. “Then you wouldn't mind me checking, would you~?” he purred, leaning next to your ear.
You tried to keep your composure, tried to maintain the little dignity you had. But Suguru groaned in your ear, a deep guttural sound that had you melting like chocolate. A shaky sigh left your lips as he slid his hand up your skirt, fingers brushing over your unsurprisingly soaked panties.
“Ooh~ so not only are you a horny little slut. Getting off to the groans and breathless words leaving her husband's lips.” he pressed his index and middle finger over your clit, rubbing it slowly. “But you're also a liar~”
“N-No, I-I ahh~ ah fuck—” Geto smirked, “I-I am not.”
“Oh, but you are.” Fingers are hooked under your panties, pulling them to the side. “I asked you point blank if you were wet.” A single finger slid into your soaking cunt, “you said no~” his finger hooked around your g-spot, rubbing it fast; your arousal was wet squelching sounds. “And listen, you can hear~” Suguru purred, hot breath moving strands of your hair. “Just how fucking wet you are.”
“F-Fuck—“ your voice cracked, fingers fisting into his dress shirt. Suguru admired the helpless whines you were attempting and failing to hold back. “Oooh fuck~ oh fuck, fuck.” Now, Suguru wasn’t a sadist, but you were trying so hard to keep quiet, and he wanted to hear you break.
He was doing what any good husband would do. Slamming his fist against the wall next to your head, he increased his speed. “Mmmm~ nnngh fuck~” he groaned right into your ear, making you shiver in turn. “Ah~ fuck so wet~ so fucking wet and tight~ my princess is going to cum~ during a work party. Nasty little girl~” You threw your head forward, burying it in his chest.
“S-Suguru—I’m go-gonna cum.”
“No, you aren’t. You’re going to squirt.”
“S-Sugu!” Your walls clamped around him as he put more pressure on that spot you loved.
“Are you gonna scream for everyone to hear?.” With a curt nod, your mouth opened to do so. This won you a glare from your husband. “Oh, no, the fuck you aren’t!” His snarl, the way he possessively smothered your screams with his mouth in a dominating kiss.
You came hard, body convulsing as you squirted. Suguru was swallowing your moans as he helped you ride out your orgasm. It isn’t until you’re literally leaning all of your weight against your sturdy husband that he pulls his drenched fingers out of you. A devilish smile is plastered against his face as he sticks his fingers in his mouth, licking them clean.
“S-Sugu, fuck—“ Is all you can manage to breathe out, fisting his shirt.
“Done lying~?” His tone is condescending as he helps steady you, grabbing your arm and looping it in his. “You most definitely got off to the sound of my voice.”
“Yep.”
Your husband stops and stares down at you. The faintest hit of a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Ooh oh, so now that you’ve cum you’re able to answer?” Rubbing your face against his arm, you let out a happy whine of confirmation. “Oh, I hope you’re not too tired.” His voice is suddenly against your ear as he leans down. “Because I can use my mouth in a merit of ways other than talking my slutty wife.”
You left the party without telling anyone where you were going. But when you came back in on Monday, the bite marks were all they needed to see. You and Suguru had your very own after-party, one that was one million times better than the stuck-up work party had been.
Nanami Kento:
“Jujutsu Sorcerers are shit!” You stood to the far side, watching your boyfriend talk amongst Gojo and Itadori.
The young man was stunned, speechless, jaw-dropping eyes wide as a little “Huh?” Sounded from him.
“Then I worked for a typical company, and one thing I learned.” You focused on your boyfriend, who crossed his arms over his chest. His broad muscles strained against the tight-fitted tailored suit he was wearing. But it wasn’t the suit that was causing heat to pull between your legs. “Is that working is shit!”
Nanami was so damn hot when he raised his voice so suddenly like that. You listened to him ranting about how he picked the lesser of two evils while you were debating on how to smuggle him away. You had to give him a smooch, gnaw on his chiseled cheek, rip all the fabric off of his body. If it weren’t for Gojo and Sukuna’s vessel being right there with Nanami, you would have begged for him to take you right there on the fucking floor.
Just as your dirty fantasy started to reel in your mind like a film being broadcasted on a projection screen, Nanami caught your attention with his words. “—please don’t believe that I’m not of the same mindset as Gojo. I do trust and have faith in him.” You felt sick at his praises for the man constantly getting under his skin and teasing you for dating Nanami.
“Ughhh-“ Your eyes narrowed as Gojo smirked, pleased with Nanami’s words. “Gag me with a spoon.”
“But I do not respect him!” Nanami roared, stern voice making you squirm as Gojo gasped in shock.
“Never mind, gag me with your cock.”
The second that Gojo left with Itadori, you went in for the kill. You snuck up behind your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your height. He peered at you through his glasses, his eyes focused on yours as you ran your hand down, unbuttoning his suit jacket.
“What do you think you’re doing?” That same stern tone that had your legs shaking like Jell-O was thick As you trailed your delicate finger over his blue button-down shirt. “We’re on school grounds still.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
Part of Nanami was curious to see what exactly you had in mind. Well, the other half of him, the half that liked rules and regulations as he had just told Itadori, had his hands gently grabbing your wrist, stopping you from moving forward. He might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water on you.
“Kento.” You fought against him, trying to unbutton the shirt that was constricting over his chest. “Let me touch you!”
“No, anyone could walk on us at any given moment, love.” You stomped your foot down, trying to free yourself from his grasp. “My god, what has gotten into you? Did you suddenly get hit with a curse when I wasn’t looking? One that makes it impossible for you to control yourself?”
There it was.
That stern, deep tone of his voice, the one that was laced with frustration and pent-up rage. The same tone that had you willing to do anything and everything for this man. If he asked you to suck his cock you would. If he asked you to marry him right at this moment, fuck yeah you would. He could even go as far as to ask you to have his babies, and you would still say yes as long as he continues talking to you in that tone of voice.
Denial would only get you so far in life. Sometimes, honesty was the best policy. He wanted to know what he got into you. You’d tell him to be upfront and honest. Perhaps in doing so, he would give you a reward. Reward him inside of you.
“I love hearing your voice.”
Nanami slowly reached up, removing his glasses. “You like hearing the sound of my voice?” Now that he was distracted, you slowly ran your hands back up, running them over his toned chest to where his abs were hidden under the fabric of his ironed shirt.
“I love it, especially when you get all angry~”
“Mmm, is that so?”
“Yeah~ what are your thoughts? Going to do with this information.”
Fucking you against one of the pillars is precisely what he did with the information. You tried to call out, but his hand clamped over your mouth. Only allowing his heavy breathing to fill the chamber you both occupied.
“You're nothing but a dirty slut.” He snarled, his hand clamping harder over you. “Getting off on my yelling? In front of one of my co-workers?” you nodded, eyes rolling back as Nanami slammed his cock against your g-spot. “So shameless, so dirty.” He held the same tone he had when speaking the Gojo and Itatori, and that just got you off even more.
“M-mmmphm!” you cried out softly.
“You better not get any of your arousal in my suite. Do you understand love? I don't want to leave here with wet pants.”
That was a lot for him to ask, especially when he was slamming over and over against your g-spot. He knew you would squirt all over him if he did this. But part of you was eager to see what he would do if you blatantly disobeyed him.
“Mm! Mmhn!” you cried out, doing your absolute best to rock against him, to stimulate your g-spot even more. “Nnngh!”
“What's this?” Nanami purred, pulling back just a bit to watch your feeble attempt atfucking yourself harder against his cock. “Trying to cum? I recognize how you’re rolling your hips.” he pressed his forehead against yours, eyes gleaming behind the green spectacles on his face. “Trying to hit that sweet spot? The same spot that makes you squirt.”
“Mhmm!” You proudly confirm his suspicions.
“Ah, I see.” he shrugged, “Fine, do what you want. Just be aware that there will be consequences if you disobey me.” He growled deep in his chest with a sinister smirk.
“M-mm?” You furrowed, not liking the tone of his voice now.
Nanami watched as you began, shaking your head, deciding that this might not be the best course of action. But your boyfriend decided that you had sealed your fate already. All he did was smile at you, a very sadistic, knowing smile.
“Ooh, please, by all means.” he slammed forward, gritting his teeth, “Let me help you~!”
The head of his cock slammed straight into your g-spot over and over. You couldn't help but scream as the pleasure was like lightning shooting through every nerve of your body; muscles spasmed as your toes curled; even when you withered and jerked, Nanami didn't once remove his hand.
“Work is shit,” Nanami’s hot breath fanned over your ear, “Jujutsu sorcerers are shit.” his voice was so deep, so full of rage, that you found yourself longing for him to direct at you. Because damn beautiful voice, how do you sing star. “But you, god fuck, you are the embodiment of everything good in this world. You make it possible for me to continue putting up with all the shit we go through.” with a whimper, your eyes focus on his hidden behind the green lenses of his glasses. “You make life special.”
With his words and his words alone, he made you cum untouched. Nanami did not need to play with your clit, or move his hips in a certain way. Just hearing him speak to you the way he was had broken you. Your scream was muffled by his hand, your head tilted back as your eyes rolled into your skull, and unfortunately, you squirted all over his pants.
You barely had a chance to recover before Nanami was gently placing you on the ground. You leaned against the pillar for support as you owed your boyfriend’s gaze to look at the crotch of his pants. There was a specific look in his eyes, one that didn’t say he was disgusted or found the intensity of your orgasm to be distasteful. No, you knew the dark, hungry look in those brown honey eyes hidden behind the lenses. Nanami wasn't turned off; he was just getting started.
“Hmm, it seems you were incapable of following a simple command. Tsk,” he stuffed his wet cock back into his boxers before zipping up his pants. “I tried to warn you not to do what you did. Instead, you made quite a mess of yourself and me. I hope you’re ready to face the consequences when we return home.”
Your mind was willing, and so was your body. But you knew that once Nanami was done with you, you wouldn’t be able to walk. Honestly, it didn’t seem like much punishment but more like a reward. Or you would gladly get on your knees to receive.
Choso Kamo:
Out of all of the partners you had had in the past, none of them had been as quiet as Choso was. Your sweet, innocent boyfriend was constantly covering his mouth with both hands, holding back his moans. You had initially thought it was adorable, watching him biting down on his lip, covering his mouth, just holding back those sounds. What you had thought was cute had been driving you crazy.
You wanted to hear the sounds he made. You wanted to know how good you were making him feel. Did he feel good, or was he putting up with you for your sake? These thoughts often plagued your mind until the pressure was too much.
“I want you to moan!” You broke out, causing your poor boyfriend to drop the gallon of orange juice he held.
“W-What?”
“I said I want you to moan!”
“Right now? Like when we're not doing stuff?”
You scrubbed your hands down your face, shaking your head. “No! I mean, when we're doing stuff, Cho.” A faint flush dusted his pale cheeks. “I just—” you sighed, “sometimes I feel like I'm not doing a good job or that you're merely entertaining me. If you’re not enjoying yourself, I would feel terrible.” Your cheeks burned with embarrassment over your request. “I’m sorry, I just—”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Choso rushed to your side, his arms wrapping around you. “You make me feel good. Really good.”
A surge of relief rushed through you. “O-Oh, okay. Then why are you so quiet?” Chosi stiffened, his whole face turning a deep shade of red as he looked away. “Cho?”
“I-I—-oud”
“Huh?”
“I-I’m too—” he mumbled again.
You sighed gently, grabbing his face. “Choso baby, I can't understand you when you mumble like that.” with a deep breath, Choso nuzzled his face into your palm.
“I’m too loud.”
His confession had you blinking in stunned confusion. Too loud? How did he know that? You were the first person he had ever been with.
“Who told you that?”
Choso looked as though he wanted to crawl under the couch. “Y-Yuuji, he said I was super loud. S-So I assumed that not everyone liked hearing people moan, so I try to stay quiet.” Everything made perfect sense now. You sighed happily, tilting your head back.
“Baby, there's nothing wrong with moaning when it's just us. But when you're alone, and Yuuji’s around, it's best to stay quiet during your uh—private time.”
There was a certain glint in his eyes, one that made your heart and pussy flutter. “Really?” You nodded slowly, dropping to your knees.
“Yep, now make some pretty sounds for me.”
Five minutes and a few reminders for Choso not to cover his mouth was all your sweet boyfriend needed to get into the mood. One hand held the crown of your head while the other gripped the counter in the kitchen. His eyes were focused on you while you stared up at him, trying to focus on him but fuck it was famn near impossible with how good he sounded.
“A-Ah! F-fuck!” he gritted his teeth, eyebrows furrowed as he whimpered. “Oooh fuck, fuck, fuckin’ so good!”
“M-mm.” Moaning around his cock you slid a hand into your shorts, gently rubbing your soaking pussy.
“Oh my god, oh my god~!” Choso cried out, his blush spreading down his neck to the tips of his ears. “Fuck! Y-Your mouth is s-so good!”
His voice cracked, it tucking cracked. Hearing that had you bobbing your head faster while you gagged down on his cock. Choso sounded so good, better than any porn or audiobook you'd ever listen to. You were going to have to beg for him to send you an audio of him jerking off because this was so fuckng hot!
“N-nngh! P-please,” he begged prettily, sending a chill down your spine. “Ooooh fuck please, can you go deeper?” the tentative tone had you fulfilling his request without a second thought. Relaxing your throat, you took him as deep as you could, only stopping as you gagged just a bit before repeating the action. “Ooooh~! Oh~ haaah!”
Your hand in your shorts moved faster as you continued deep-throating Choso without a second thought. Hearing his whines had you so wet you could feel the sweetness seeping into your pajamas. God, you wanted to destroy him, milk him dry, so that’s exactly what you would do.
“W-Waaa! Fuck! H-Honey, wait—” Choso's face scrunched in horny panic. “P-Please wait! Please, I-I’m g-gonna cum in y-your mouth!” What a sweet boy, trying to warn you when he didn't realize that's exactly what you wanted. Pulling your slick fingers out of your shorts, you used your wet fingers to caress and massage his balls gently. “Mnnngh!!” his hips bucked forward, both hands gripping the sides of your head as he began thrusting. “I’m sorry! I'm sorry! Too good!” your eyes watered, tears spilling out and running down your flushed cheeks. “I’m c-cumming! Oooh fuck~ ooooh fuuuuuck! Fuck! Fuck!!”
Thick hot cum fills your mouth and slides down your throat. You put in the best effort, trying to swallow it, but there was a lot. You yanked yourself back, gasping for air as cum, spit, and tears fell to the kitchen floor. You gasped, shifting as Choso cried out, stroking himself, milking the last of cum out against your lips. Leaving you a white messy scene.
“Oooh fuuuck~” Choso stumbled back with a grunt, leaning against the counter. “Ooooh my god, oooh god.”
“Choso.” Pushing yourself off the floor, you grabbed his hand. “Bedroom now.”
“O-Oh, okay.” he followed you without complaint.
“Ooh and Choso.”
“Ye—” he choked on his words as you sat on the bed, spreading your legs and revealing a large wet spot on your maroon shorts.
“Moan that loud in my ear~”
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart
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dante-mightdie · 1 day
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Oh my, loved the last post on viking!Simon, made me a little angry and sad at the end tbh BUTTT im more than ready for the coming chapter. There will be a happy chapter next, right? Right??? (Hopefully he shows the other woman how much he loves his wife, and that she got no place anywhere close to him. Or I’ll have to hunt him down myself)
okay fine i’ll post some happy content
c/w: insecurities, angst/comfort, kissing, groping, crying
you were upset with him. that much was obvious. you had awoken the next day with the intention of not saying a word to him. his eyes bore into your back as you move around the kitchen to make breakfast, all the while he’s bouncing your oldest on his knee whilst they babble and watch you too
he eats the food you put in front of him, scarfing it down whilst you feed your children. he stands from the table, saying goodbye to the children placing and placing a hand on your shoulder to give it an gentle squeeze
your eyes well up slightly as you turn your head away from him. he leaves soon after that with a heavy sigh and a mention of being home late tonight which just adds to your poor mood
you feel like your own brain is turning on you, tricking you into believing all these nasty things that are just making you feel awful. whispers in your ear that maybe he’s not attracted to you anymore which is why he spends so much time around the pretty healer
perhaps he wasn’t happy with how your body had changed after childbirth and no longer wished to sleep with you. or maybe he never loved you at all and you had just been convincing yourself that he held love in his heart for you
all these things weighted themselves to your shoulders for the remainder of the day. since giving birth to your second baby, you’ve been run off your feet at home. especially since your first child is learning to crawl. the lack of sleep and attention from your husband was clawing at your brain
simon didn’t arrive home until late in the evening, once both you and the children were bathed in bed. well, the children were in bed, sound asleep. you were sat up in bed, knees pulled to your chest as you sobbed quietly. you hadn’t even heard him come home or walk up the stairs
a frown tugged at his face as he watched you break apart. he had never seen you look so distraught and he couldn’t believe he was the cause of it. he takes a step forward, silently crouching down next to the bed and placing a hand on your shoulder
your head shoots up, bloodshot and teary eyes looking into his own. the panic softens once you realise it’s him but you still turn away from him, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand
“you don’t need to cry over a small fight.” he says in a gruff but quiet tone. you shake your head, lip quivering again but you stop yourself from breaking down
“i’m not crying because of the fight, simon…” you whisper, looking down at your lap. “I’m crying because… because you don’t love me anymore.”
you break down into small sobs towards the end of your sentence, hiding your face in your hands. simon feels his heart crack slightly in his chest, an affect that no one else but you had been capable of doing
he takes a hand over to grip your chin, turning your head so you’re looking at him. you still look beautiful to him like this, warmed cheeks and glossy eyes. “who said I no longer love you?”
you try and look away from his narrowed eyes but he keeps his grip on your chin firm. you sniffle slightly and fiddle with your fingers, “no one. I just-“
“Then why are you so certain that I don’t love you? Is it not enough that I worship the ground that you walk on? that I have literally killed for you?” he asks, eyes searching yours for an answer
you sniffle softly, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. “since our second child, you’ve been so distant. I… I know I don’t look as good as a I did before our children but I-“
“enough. I won’t hear this kind of talk about my wife.” he silences you, using his grip on your jaw to pull your face to his and plant a sweet kiss on your lips. “when we married, I made a promise to hurt anyone who tried to harm you. if that means I have to torture myself everyday to make up for making you feel this away about yourself, then so be it.”
your lip quivers as he mumbles apologies to your lips, his hands moving to grip your soft hips and pull you into his lap. you whimper out soft moans as his hands grope anywhere they can reach, your form had become much softer during motherhood and he adores the look on you
“I will always worship you, I could never fault the body that gifted me two wonderful children. All I think about is keeping you this way, soft and round with my kids. you’ve never looked so beautiful to me.”
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luvyeni · 3 days
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𐙚 : KISSING/BITING THEIR NECK (reaction) ֶָ֢ !
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request: kissing or biting nct dream’s necks.
authors note. i hope you like it 🩶!!!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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𐙚 : MARK ֶָ֢ !
he gets horny don't get me wrong , but it's also on his neck, where he's really ticklish, let's out a bunch of giggles.
he smiled watching your mischievous eyes turn to him. "what are you thinking baby?" he watched you stalk him, you climbed into his lap, he laughed. "what are you up to." you shook your head. "nothing." you grabbed the other side of his cheek, pulling him to your lips, kissing his cheek. "just want to give you some kisses." you repeatedly kissed his cheek. "yeah?" he said, wrapping his hands around your waist as you reached his neck , leaving wet kisses. "baby you know im ticklish." you felt his adams apple move; smiling against his neck. "then why are you getting hard?" your hand came down to his pants, squeezing his cock. "because you your lips feel good." he moaned. "yeah?" you licked his neck. "fuck baby that's enough." he groaned out.
"gonna cum if you keep doing that"
𐙚 : RENJUN ֶָ֢ !
depending on the situation he's gonna be annoyed, horny? yes but annoyed nonetheless.
"renjunnie." you skipped into your bedroom, met with your glaring boyfriend sitting on the bed, his phone to his ear taking a call. "im on the phone." he mouth, meaning he was telling you to shut up , but could you be a good girlfriend and listen? no of course not — you instead straddled his lap smiling evilly , wrapping your arms around his neck. "no hyung im fine, what were you saying?" he gripped your waist, that was in fact your second warm for you to shut and now sit still on his lap. you still denied his command, dipping into the crease of his shoulder blade, and his neck nipping at his neck. renjun should've known you couldn't be trusted, his hand coming down to your ass to give you your last warning, but of course you were a brat , biting down harder he grunted. "hyung i have to go , i think yn just broke something." he said, you pouted. "yeah you know her , never listens when i tell her to do something." he hung up the phone , his eyes glaring at you. "you don't fucking listen do you?" his hand came up to your jaw. "i just wanted your attention." your lips already forming a pout. "well now you got it."
"you want to use that fucking mouth so bad , how about you get on your knees and suck me off."
𐙚 : JENO ֶָ֢ !
playful puppy, he loves this — you wanna bite his neck? he's gonna do the same then.
"baby i have to go to the gym." you climbed on to his back. "no." he smiled, trying to shake you off , he already decided he wasn't going when you whined for him not to, but he wanted to play around. "baby please." he laughed, you kissed his neck. "please stay." you wrapped your feet around his waist. "how am i supposed to hold you up like this if you don't let me go to the gym." he felt your nose pressed against his neck. "you're already strong enough." you kissed his neck again , giggling for biting down on. "ow , babygirl." you laughed in his ear. "that's funny?" you nodded. "okay." he said , and before you could register, he was throwing you on the bed , holding your hands together. "it's my turn." he held your kicking legs down , his face dipping into your neck , biting down. "jeno." you squealed. "i won't go today baby." he said licking the bite mark, you whimpered— he smirked.
"I'll stay here and fuck you instead."
𐙚 : HAECHAN ֶָ֢ !
little perv will let out a moan— but in his defense you bit his sensitive area, how do you expect him not to.
"go go— fucking go!" you boyfriend shouted into the mic, you hated when he got riled up while playing the game. "yah, lee jeno are you fucking stupid, i said go!" you kissed the back of your teeth, sitting your phone down, climbing off the bed. "haechannie." you pouted, he looked at you for a second going back to the game. "baby hold on." you ignored him, sitting down on his lap. "baby, baby i can't see." he moved he's head around your body. "fuck off jeno , yn is sitting here that's why." you got comfortable on his lap. "stop all that cursing." you kissed his mole, he smiled. "m'sorry baby." he said. "i know you hate it, I'll try and stop." you kissed another mole, the one closer to his jaw, he let out a low sigh as you reached his jaw. "ju-just play the game." he stuttered into mic as you kissed each mole on his neck— finally you bit down, and he let out a moan. "ew dude are you fucking on the mic?" you laughed hearing his friends freak out. "shut the fuck up, don't be mad im getting some and you arent." you could feel his cock chubbing up in his sweats. "are you hard haechan?" he kissed the back of his teeth, in a duh tone.
"if you don't get up and get on that bed now, everyone is gonna hear me fuck your brains out."
𐙚 : JAEMIN ֶָ֢ !
jaemin is unpredictable, he could just laugh it off , or he's gonna bite you back , but in the most extra way , lets go with the second way.
"baby." he laughed feeling your nose on his skin. "what are you up to?" you giggled , he knew you so well. "nothing." you said , quickly attacking his neck. "i knew you were up to something." he smiled , letting you biting his neck a few more times , before quickly flipping you over. "jaemin." he smiled down at you. "what baby?" he cooed. "didn't you bite me first?" he said , before biting your cheek playfully. "jaemin!" you squealed, laughing. "im just getting you back." he held your hands together, moving to your exposed stomach, bitting down. "just getting my revenge." he said , keeping his eyes on you as he came down to your bare legs , you sighed as he spread your legs open , kissing your inner thigh, the tone definition shifting. "jaemin." you felt his teeth nipping at your sensitive inner thigh. "fuck." you whimpered. "i can see your little clit twitching." you moaned.
"shh shh baby this is payback, let me eat your pretty pussy."
𐙚 : CHENLE ֶָ֢ !
curses a few times because you did just bite him — but he's not mad at it, he actually likes it quite a bit.
"ow shit." he looked at you perplexed, why the hell did you just do that? "you bit me!" you laughed , you loved your dramatic boyfriend so much. "you bite me and now your laughing." he scoffed. "what if i bite you back." you shrugging. "go ahead." you said. "I like that." he scoffed. "if course you do." he gripped the back of your neck , to keep you from biting him again. "you do too , dont pretend that your cock isn't hard right now." you broke away from his grip, bitting him again. "fuck." he grunted. "try not to cum." you giggled, just pissing him off more. "says the slut grinding down on his my leg." you tried to bite him again but he was faster, gaining control again. "didn't i say stop?"
"it was cute the first time, now you're pissing me off."
𐙚 : JISUNG ֶָ֢ !
why did you do that? and why did he like it? is all he thinks, he's so confused.
sitting in his lap , watching him play games on his phone , occupying your time by scrolling on tiktok , playing with the necklace dangling on his neck. you came across a video of a girl biting her boyfriends neck to get his reaction , sparking an idea in your bored mind. turning the camera on, brushing your nose against your boyfriend's neck, smiling when you saw his hands stop moving. "baby what are y— ow." hissed when you bit down. "why'd you bite me?" you laughed hearing his confused tone. "baby." you felt the shift in his attitude. "fuck i liked that too much." he groaned, you giggled whispering in his ear. "you're on camera." he threw his phone to the side, his cock throbbing in his sweats. "turn it off , before you won't be able to post it." you felt his hands travel to your ass. "why is that?"
"because it'll definitely pick up the sounds of me fucking you."
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©️LUVYENI
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lovelyiida · 2 days
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Imagine Bakugo does overseas promotions in the west and you’re the only one that he can tolerate.
previous :D
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ENGLISH: These interviews are so stupid.
JAPANESE: こういうインタビューは本当に愚かだ
JAPANESE: もう一度言ってもいいでしょう
ENGLISH: You could say that again
You and Katsuki sat side by side as you snuck a snide remark to one another. The both of you are in attendance at yet another boring interview.
And what pissed Katsuki off was that no one was asking him any questions. And what tops your cake on that?
There were no damn bagels!
"So (hero name), I'm sure you've seen a couple of looks at all the heroes from around the world recently. Tell me; the sight is quite revising ain't it?"
Oh, just your luck.
Misogyny is served hot today.
It's not like a hero of your caliber was here anticipating any questions based on your quirk, or your job as a hero. Nope, just beauty, romance, and what horse you're waiting to ride...
Katuski watching your temper run short at whatever question was asked. He watched as you cleared your throat and tried your best to throw on whatever coy smile you could pull out of your brain and onto your face.
"Yep, a sight for miles."
You answered flatly, Katsuki looked at his side and watched the other heroes in the vicinity quietly chuckle at the scene unfolding, which made Katsuki want to shove a bagel down the interviewer's throat.
Dry.
"And lastly, Dynamight?"
As Katuski glanced back at the interviewer once more, his attention was diverted from the snickering heroes. Raising an eyebrow, he waits for a response.
"Does he have a translator?" The interviewer asked behind him quietly before you jumped in. "No, it's okay. I can interpret for him," you say with a smile.
They let out a hum before continuing with the question. "So, Dynamight, what's it like being in America so far?"
That's it?
The 10-hour flight, multiple language classes, and interview rehearsals...for that? He hasn't been asked a single question since his stay, and when they finally give him the time of day...
ENGLISH: He just asked you what it's like being in America
JAPANESE: 彼はあなたに、アメリカにいるのはどんな感じか尋ねました…
Katsuki wanted to be calm and collected, he had a reputation to maintain for not just himself, but for his country. But he only had those thoughts after you were able to successfully rip him off of the interviewer after one swift lunge and 10 minutes of the most vulgar words you've ever heard in Japanese.
and approximately 30 seconds in English as well.
That's gonna be a lot of paperwork to fill out.
"You're an idiot, you know that?"
After 3 hours of paperwork and convincing the interviewer not to press charges. This left you to babysit the pro hero, with an ice pack in hand.
Katuki winced as you pressed hard on the knot on his temple. "You're an idiot" Katsuki spat back. You knew enough anime to know what he said back to you, which made you press harder on the bruise.
"How are we gonna go through the rest of this week without you lunging at people you slightly disagree with? Are you always like this?"
Katsuki didn't respond.
This makes you travel down a little rabbit hole...
Katsuki Bakugo, also known as Dynamight is known for his hot fiery temper which coincides with his explosive quirk. He may not be the nicest of all the heroes, but he's got the quirk to back up his mouth.
[This was pulled from the official UA Alumni Magazine]
"Wow, what a legacy."
Maybe it's because of the language barrier, but from most of the videos you've seen of him. He doesn't act like that around you. He seems quiet and reserved.
And a tad flirty.
"Well, I think that will do the trick." You placed the ice pack on the side of your bed before sitting next to him. Katsuki gave you a look before rising from the bed and heading towards the door.
"Hey!"
Katsuki turns as you yell loudly at him. Turning around he sees that damn phone. Grabbing it, he reads the message.
ENGLISH: Stay on your best behavior!
JAPANESE: 最善の行動を続ける!
"Whatever..."
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yeah... this isn't gonna be a series<3
— lovelyiida
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TAGLIST: @bleedingredridinghood , @burymeinside , @queenpiranhadon , @minssecret , @mochimommy2002 , @renerini , @djlance-rock , @bookcluberror, @yeehawgiddyup , @guitargirl420 , @awesomeshadowcrow-blog, @camilo-uwu, @gold24fish
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brenwritesss · 1 day
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Tru Fru
Paige x reader
Summary: reader goes to Target to buy a bag of Tru Fru but ends up meeting Paige as they fight over the last bag.
Let me know if you want a part two!!
Taking the keys out of the ignition, you locked your car and walked out into the silent parking lot. With the store about to close in twenty minutes, there were not many people in the parking lot so this should have been an easy trip. For the past week, all that you have been seeing all over your social media was Tru Fru. A company that produced dried fruits covered in chocolate. Your roommate had bought a bag when the hype first started and she became obsessed, saying ‘it was the best snack to ever be invented’.
So here you were at Target, finally buying a bag. After walking into the store, you fiddled with your keyring as you walked down the aisles, heading to the snack area. Once in the snack aisle, you scanned the shelves, trying to find the bags until your eyes finally stumbled upon a bag of Tru Fru strawberries. The last bag of Tru Fru fruit in the entire aisle.
You smiled to yourself as you relished in the luck you had in getting the last bag in the store. You went to get the last bag, grabbing hold of it when to your surprise, another hand picked it up at the same time.
You instantly whipped your head to your left and a tall blonde with hazel eyes peered down at you. She pulled the bag towards her a bit. “I hope you don’t mind but I really need this bag.”
You gave her a skeptical look, not letting go. “So do I.”
“But you don’t understand how much I need this. I literally got the merch for this shit,” she said, making you look at her sweatshirt that had the Tru Fru logo on it.
You shrugged. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with me and this bag.”
She looked you up and down, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, it was hot when she did that. Noticing your UConn hoodie, she pointed at the letters. “Yo, you go to UConn?”
“Yeah.”
“So do I,” she said, almost shouting the fact. “You into basketball by any chance? I’ll get you a hoodie with my number on it if you let me get this bag.”
You laughed, “I don’t know who you are, let alone know that you play basketball. Why would I want a hoodie with your number on it?”
She pretended to look hurt. “Ouch, you know how to hurt someone’s feelings.” When you didn’t respond, she sighed. “Okay, uh I can give you cash for the bag.”
“You’re seriously gonna pay me to give you this bag?” 
“Yes,” she said while giving you a look that made you know she wasn’t joking.
“I’m sorry but I’ve been trying to track these down forever since they’ve been sold out everywhere.” Your grip tightened on the bag.
Paige tilted her head, looking you up and down again and giving you a smile. It would have made you melt if you weren’t so determined to get this bag of Tru Fru. “You know, I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around campus before.”
“It’s a huge campus, it’s hard to notice one singular person.”
She licked her lips, nodding at you. “You’d be easy to notice.”
“Are you seriously flirting with me so that I’ll give it to you?” you asked her.
“Is it working?”
“No.”
“Fine.” She reached into her pocket and took out her phone. You looked at her, confused as to what she was doing. Then to answer your suspicions, she held her phone out to you. “I’ll let you keep this bag if you give me your number.”
So a pretty girl asks for your number and you get to keep the last Tru Fru bag? Sounds like a win-win situation to you. “Sounds good to me.” 
You took her phone and typed in your number with one hand just in case she took the bag from you. Once you handed her phone back to her, she finally let go of the bag. “I’m Paige by the way.”
“Y/n.”
She put her hands in her pockets. “I hope you know I’m actually going to text you.”
“I hope so,” you said, leaving her in the aisle as you headed to the checkout.
Once you had purchased your bag of Tru Fru strawberries, you walked back to your car. The second you got inside, a text notification popped up on your phone from an unknown number.
You should come over so that I can see you again
And bring that bag I let you get
So she wasn’t lying when she said she’d text you. After reading those two texts, she sent another one but this time with an address. You texted back a thumbs up and started driving to the location she sent you. You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
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thedensworld · 3 days
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I Can Fight | J.Ww
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Pairing: Wonwoo x reader
Genre: fluff
Summary: Wearing a revealing clothes was never uncomfortable for you. However since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear one. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.
Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰
It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.
Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.
"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.
As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.
You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?
Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.
As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.
With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.
"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.
"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.
You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.
Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."
A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.
Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."
You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."
"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.
You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."
Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."
A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.
Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.
"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.
Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.
As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.
"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.
You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."
Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."
A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"
Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."
Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.
"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.
A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.
He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.
His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.
***
You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.
His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.
As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.
"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."
Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.
As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.
"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.
A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.
You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.
"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.
You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.
Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.
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