#they are the most unconventional ones too

[tangibletechnomancy]

The reason I took interest in AI as an art medium is that I've always been interested in experimenting with novel and unconventional art media - I started incorporating power tools into a lot of my physical processes younger than most people were even allowed to breathe near them, and I took to digital art like a duck to water when it was the big, relatively new, controversial thing too, so really this just seems like the logical next step. More than that, it's exciting - it's not every day that we just invent an entirely new never-before-seen art medium! I have always been one to go fucking wild for that shit.

Which is, ironically, a huge part of why I almost reflexively recoil at how it's used in the corporate world: because the world of business, particularly the entertainment industry, has what often seems like less than zero interest in appreciating it as a novel medium.

And I often wonder how much less that would be the case - and, by extension, how much less vitriolic the discussion around it would be, and how many fewer well-meaning people would be falling for reactionary mythologies about where exactly the problems lie - if it hadn't reached the point of...at least an illusion of commercial viability, at exactly the moment it did.

See, the groundwork was laid in 2020, back during covid lockdowns, when we saw a massive spike in people relying on TV, games, books, movies, etc. to compensate for the lack of outdoor, physical, social entertainment. This was, seemingly, wonderful for the whole industry - but under late-stage capitalism, it was as much of a curse as it was a gift. When industries are run by people whose sole brain process is "line-go-up", tiny factors like "we're not going to be in lockdown forever" don't matter. CEOs got dollar signs in their eyes. Shareholders demanded not only perpetual growth, but perpetual growth at this rate or better. Even though everyone with an ounce of common sense was screaming "this is an aberration, this is not sustainable" - it didn't matter. The business bros refused to believe it. This was their new normal, they were determined to prove -

And they, predictably, failed to prove it.

So now the business bros are in a pickle. They're beholden to the shareholders to do everything within their power to maintain the infinite growth they promised, in a world with finite resources. In fact, by precedent, they're beholden to this by law. Fiduciary duty has been interpreted in court to mean that, given the choice between offering a better product and ensuring maximum returns for shareholders, the latter MUST be a higher priority; reinvesting too much in the business instead of trying to make the share value increase as much as possible, as fast as possible, can result in a lawsuit - that a board member or CEO can lose, and have lost before - because it's not acting in the best interest of shareholders. If that unsustainable explosive growth was promised forever, all the more so.

And now, 2-3-4 years on, that impossibility hangs like a sword of Damocles over the heads of these media company CEOs. The market is fully saturated; the number of new potential customers left to onboard is negligible. Some companies began trying to "solve" this "problem" by violating consumer privacy and charging per household member, which (also predictably) backfired because those of us who live in reality and not statsland were not exactly thrilled about the concept of being told we couldn't watch TV with our own families. Shareholders are getting antsy, because their (however predictably impossible) infinite lockdown-level profits...aren't coming, and someone's gotta make up for that, right? So they had already started enshittifying, making excuses for layoffs, for cutting employee pay, for duty creep, for increasing crunch, for lean-staffing, for tightening turnarounds-

And that was when we got the first iterations of AI image generation that were actually somewhat useful for things like rapid first drafts, moodboards, and conceptualizing.

Lo! A savior! It might as well have been the digital messiah to the business bros, and their eyes turned back into dollar signs. More than that, they were being promised that this...both was, and wasn't art at the same time. It was good enough for their final product, or if not it would be within a year or two, but it required no skill whatsoever to make! Soon, you could fire ALL your creatives and just have Susan from accounting write your scripts and make your concept art with all the effort that it takes to get lunch from a Star Trek replicator!

This is every bit as much bullshit as the promise of infinite lockdown-level growth, of course, but with shareholders clamoring for the money they were recklessly promised, executives are looking for anything, even the slightest glimmer of a new possibility, that just might work as a life raft from this sinking ship.

So where are we now? Well, we're exiting the "fucking around" phase and entering "finding out". According to anecdotes I've read, companies are, allegedly, already hiring prompt engineers (or "prompters" - can't give them a job title that implies there's skill or thought involved, now can we, that just might imply they deserve enough money to survive!)...and most of them not only lack the skill to manually post-process their works, but don't even know how (or perhaps aren't given access) to fully use the software they specialize in, being blissfully unaware of (or perhaps not able/allowed to use) features such as inpainting or img2img. It has been observed many times that LLMs are being used to flood once-reputable information outlets with hallucinated garbage. I can verify - as can nearly everyone who was online in the aftermath of the Glasgow Willy Wonka Dashcon Experience - that the results are often outright comically bad.

To anyone who was paying attention to anything other than please-line-go-up-faster-please-line-go-please (or buying so heavily into reactionary mythologies about why AI can be dangerous in industry that they bought the tech companies' false promises too and just thought it was a bad thing), this was entirely predictable. Unfortunately for everyone in the blast radius, common sense has never been an executive's strong suit when so much money is on the line.

Much like CGI before it, what we have here is a whole new medium that is seldom being treated as a new medium with its own unique strengths, but more often being used as a replacement for more expensive labor, no matter how bad the result may be - nor, for that matter, how unjust it may be that the labor is so much cheaper.

And it's all because of timing. It's all because it came about in the perfect moment to look like a life raft in a moment of late-stage capitalist panic. Any port in a storm, after all - even if that port is a non-Euclidean labyrinth of soggy, rotten botshit garbage.

Any port in a storm, right? ...right?

All images generated using Simple Stable, under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

#ai art #generated art #generated artwork #essays #about ai

[nanamiscocksleeve]

The Office Pet Part 3

warnings: MDNI, sex, rough fucking, fingering, mild pet play, cum dump, mild foursome, creampies, cumplay, exhibitionism, oral (fem receiving), toys, overstimulation, dominance, nipple and clit play.

man, I was horny af when I wrote this. Pure filth, no plot, just some good kinky fuckery. Part 1 - Part 2

“They’re considering hiring someone with the promise that he could be a partner someday.” Kento lovingly washes your hair in the tub, making sure he gets every inch of your scalp clean. You let him pamper you, eyes closed and humming in happiness. He reaches for the removable showerhead and gently cascades water over your hair, ensuring the suds don’t get into your eyes. 

“We’ll be entertaining him here to get a feel for him.” You look curiously at Kento, and his mouth curls into a smile. “Ah, I see you’re remembering the last time we hosted a party here. I recall you enjoying yourself quite a bit.” 

“I did.” You giggle at the memory. 

“How do you feel about doing it again tonight?”

“I think it would be fun.”

“Excellent.” He helps you stand and starts toweling your hair dry. 

“All the same folks as last time?” You ask, loving his gentle touch. 

“Yup. You remember how it was when we vetted Higuruma.”

You nod your head, then raise your arms as he starts drying off your body. “So it’s him, Gojo, and…?”

“Kusakabe.” Kento gives you a name. “It’ll be very similar to last time.” He scoops your dried body out of the tub and places you on the bed, before grabbing a bottle of lotion. You lay out on your stomach comfortably, then pout as he drips lotion on your back.

“That’s cold…” You protest, only to be met with an indulgent chuckle. 

“Sorry, my sweet.” He runs his warm hands over your back, and the cold cream heats up, going into your smooth skin. You hum and settle down. His hands move to your ass, gently massaging the flesh as he moisturizes you. 

“Think you’ll be all right entertaining one more person?”

“I think so. Same rules as last time, right?”

“Yes. They can look. Touch limitedly with permission. But fucking you is solely my right.” He cups your mound with his hand and your arch up so that his palm can curve and capture it. He squeezes, not arousingly, but it feels good anyway.

“I think we’ll have fun.”

Kento huffs, and gives a playful smack to your ass. “I can always count on you. But, then again, you like being on display so I suppose you’re more into the idea than you’re letting on.”

A mischievous laugh leaves your lips and you wriggle your ass, causing him to bark with laughter and give you another smack. “Come here you.” He sits down and cradles you on his lap, hugging you tightly. “I love you, you know?” He kisses your forehead. 

“I love you too.” You graze your nose against his face, inhaling his scent. The unconventional nature of your relationship still had trust and affection at the end of the day. He holds you possessively, jealously, sometimes. But you were both comfortable with your dynamic. 

“What’s your safe word?” he breathes into your hair. 

“Heel.”

“Yes. And remember just because there are rules doesn’t mean you can’t ask for it to stop. I’ll be there the whole time. If something makes you uncomfortable, just look at me. I’ll know.” 

Kento was a source of security for you. He would never let anyone demean or put you down. You knew where you stood with him. He kisses you, his mouth exploring yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Let’s go put on a show.”

—

The men are dressed in their finest, most expensive-looking suits, sitting on the plush, immoderate furniture in your living room, sipping Kento’s excellent collection of liquor. The new guy, Kusakabe, has a harsh, bored-looking expression on his face as he swirls his scotch in a glass. 

“What’s so special about this party that you guys said it’s practically an interview?” Disinterest coats his tone as he takes a swig from his glass. 

Gojo and Higuruma exchange glances, smirking knowingly at each other. 

“Let’s just say that these parties…show us how much we can trust each other. After all, if you can’t obey the rules relating to our office pets, then why would we trust you with anything else?”

“Office pets?” Kusakabe wrinkles his nose. “Don’t tell me I have to spend all evening entertaining a cat or something.”

Higuruma laughs and takes a swallow of his whiskey. “Well, there’s a pussy involved.”

Kusakabe looks unsure whether to take him seriously and decides against asking anything. Noise at the top of the steps announces Nanami’s arrival and the men sit up straighter, watching him descend.

He’s carrying you in his arms, your perfect naked body on display, snug against his chest. Kento has added a simple black choker around your neck, with a cute bow attached to it.  “I’m glad everyone could make it.” 

Kusakabe’s eyes widen as he sees you, almost choking on his drink. Kento’s mouth is a sardonic curve, a taunt to the new potential hire who suddenly seemed to have lost the cocky demeanor he had when he was first interviewed. 

Kento sits down on a grand-looking armchair, letting you lay down on his lap, and delicately fondles one of your nipples, almost like an afterthought, similar to how one plays with their hair while reminiscing something. It barely does anything to you, and you sit patiently, letting him do as he pleases. 

“As we all know things are a little…unconventional in our office. But it’s good. It helps with productivity. And it helps us know we have each other’s backs no matter what. And how do we assess these qualities?”

He pauses and pats your head proudly with his free hand. “Thanks to the office pets of course. They’re a status of how far we’ve come in our careers. And they represent qualities that are meaningful to us. They give us companionship, and love, and are excellent stress relievers.”

Gojo and Higuruma chuckle, nodding, while Kusakabe continues to look shell-shocked. Nanami continues with his speech. “But of course, each office pet is sacred to the person they belong to. We admire and respect each other’s pets, but we never cross boundaries. So anyone who thinks just because our adorable pets look available,” he squeezes your nipple hard enough for a cute whimper to leave your throat, “isn’t someone we would want to have in our office.”

Kusakabe stares, wide-eyed, hanging onto Nanami’s every word. The prospect that he could have a pet if he was made partner one day was sinking into him. Nanami’s voice cuts through the room. 

“Look at my pet.” He gestures to you leisurely sprawled out on his lap, already turned on by the thought of events to come. “She’s sweet, obedient, and one of the best things to ever happen to me. So to assess if someone is worthy of being part of our exclusive circle, there are 3 rules they will need to abide by tonight.” He holds up his hand and stretches his index finger.

“One. You can look. Two,” He holds up another finger. “You can’t touch unless given permission by me and my pet. And 3. No one can fuck her except me. Do you understand Kusakabe?”

Gojo slaps Kusakabe playfully on the shoulder. “He’s following rule one all right.” Nanami and Higuruma laugh as Kusakabe flushes. You can’t help but join in the laughter, then pull at Nanami’s collar. 

“Is he a virgin?” you ask and the room erupts with laughter, Kusakabe chugging from his glass to avoid looking embarrassed.

“No, my pet, he’s not,” Nanami chuckles, stroking your hair. “I just doubt he’s seen anything as sweetly delectable as yourself before. He's probably never seen a woman so willingly displayed, so ready to be used and admired. ”

It takes Kusakabe a second to regain control of himself. With a cough, he says, “I think I would fit in with your circle very well. I promise to abide by the rules.”

“Perfect. Well then. No sense in delaying the fun.” He picks you up and places you on the lush carpet, patting your ass to encourage you to move forward. “Go ahead, my dear. Show them what a good time really looks like.”

You gracefully and enticingly crawl to the center of the carpet, smiling, before laying back and spreading your legs apart, delicately fingering your already swollen clit, in full view to the group. 

“That's it, my dear... Show these men how much you enjoy being on display…” Kento’s gaze darkens with lust as he watches you play with yourself, your moans filling the room and spurring on the already aroused crowd.

“See that, gentlemen?” He says, gesturing towards you. “This is what happens when you train a woman properly.” A wicked gleam appears in his eyes as he turns back to them. “Now, isn't it time you showed your appreciation of her?”

All the men had a boner; you could see the outlines through their pants, straining against the fabric. At Nanami’s words, Gojo and Higuruma free their cocks, stroking themselves in time with your fingers on your clit. Kusakabe was either too shy or too shocked by the scene, because he didn’t make any move to unzip himself, but kept his eyes fixated on your open pussy with his teeth gritted, fascinated. 

You feel powerful, knowing how much control you hold over these men, knowing they can’t do anything to you. It stirs a gripping arousal in your body, and you moan, knowing you need more. Looking sweetly over your shoulder, you ask, “Kento, can you bring out the toys?”

Kento smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course, my dear.”  His voice is filled with anticipation. “Let's see how many orgasms we can wring out of our precious pet tonight.” He disappears into another room briefly, returning moments later with a small box full of toys. He sets it down beside you, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Here you go, my dear,” He coos, handing you a small vibrator. “Have some fun with this while we decide what to do with you next.”

You accept the toy from him, gathering some of the moisture leaking from your hole, and begin to tease yourself with it, whimpering at the pleasure. “Kento…can I choose someone to hold it for me? It’s easier to have fun that way.” You look at him with a pout. 

Kento nods, a devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Of course, my dear. Choose whoever you wish.” His eyes roam over the crowd, wondering who you’ll pick, but he already has a good idea. You temptingly crawl over to Kusakabe who looks at you like he’s seen the gates to heaven. With a smirk, you offer him the vibrator. He glances over at Nanami, who nods.

“She’s giving you permission, so yes. Take it.” 

“So generous of her,” Gojo praises you. “Just don’t be disappointed if you find yourself adjusting him constantly. Look at his hands. He’s trembling.” 

It was true, Kusakabe’s hands were trembling slightly as he took the toy from you before sitting down on the carpet. You lean up on your knees, and with shaky hands, he positions the vibrator against your wet slit, making you moan quietly. The crowd watches silently their eyes glued to the scene as Kusakabe, gaining confidence, begins to tease your clit by rocking the vibrator in circles against it. 

“Mmm...yeah like that,” you hum as you start humping the vibrator, your tits swaying as you do so. Gojo and Higuruma look impressed with Kusakabe who’s watching you intently, his cock straining so much in his pants it looked like it might tear the fabric. You giggle and try to give him a reassuring look but it’s hard with the pleasure coursing through you. Kento’s heart pounds in his chest as he observes you lose yourself to pleasure. Your moans fill the room, echoing off the walls and stirring up a storm of arousal among the gathered men.

“Isn't she beautiful?” Kento asks rhetorically, his eyes never leaving your writhing form. “So obedient. So willing…” He gives Kusakabe a nod of approval to keep doing what he’s doing before moving closer to you, caressing your breasts, tweaking your nipples to heighten your senses. 

“Ooh... That feels nice…” you bite your lip enjoying the attention and continue to pleasure yourself on the vibrator. 

Kento wears a satisfied grin and continues to pinch your nipples. “Such a perfect little slut,” He murmurs appreciatively under his breath. “Enjoying all this attention?”

You giggle at his question and hump a little faster, nodding your head. “I’m having so much fun.”

Kento chuckles before signaling to Kusakabe to increase the speed of the vibrator, which he does hastily. “Let's see how many times we can make our little pet cum tonight,” he says in a dark, sinful whisper as you gasp at the new intensity between your folds. His hands never stop their exploration of your body pinching your nipples harder, twisting them slightly as you moan.

“That's it…” He says approvingly. “Let yourself go…”

You writhe and whimper, humping the vibrator desperately, feeling your climax nearing as your clit throbs from need. After a heart-stopping moment, it hits you, causing your body to convulse in ecstasy as you scream out your release. The sight of you writhing from the orgasm sends a jolt of arousal through the gathered men.

“There we go,” He purrs, running a hand through your hair. “Such a good girl…”

Kento motions for Kusakabe to take the vibrator away from you, and he follows the instruction obediently, backing away respectfully, almost like he’s embarrassed from the knowledge of knowing he helped you orgasm. Gojo and Higuruma clap as he withdraws back to the sofa and you giggle, laying back on the carpet, still dizzy from your climax. 

“That was an excellent start. Great job Kusakabe.” Kusakabe is staring at his hands, his face a brilliant shade of crimson. Kento addresses the other two men. “Now I’m requesting more of your assistance. I believe we wanted to see how many times we make her cum tonight. I want her cunt soaked and ready for me by the time I decide to fuck her. You have my permission to touch her. And yours?” he asks you and you nod enthusiastically. Kento helps to bend you over the glass coffee table and spreads your legs wide, revealing your glistening, wet pussy to the room. His words send a thrill of arousal through you. 

“Who wants a turn?” 

There’s rustling and shuffling from behind you and you hear the men slide off the sofa onto the carpet and pad over to you. Kento’s hands stroke your hair and back, whispering encouragement. You can’t see who’s coming but it’s such a turn-on knowing what was going to happen. 

“Hey pretty. Ready for this?” Your heart skips a beat as you hear Gojo’s voice. He caresses your cheek. You nod eagerly, and with a laugh, Gojo begins to squeeze your breasts while Higuruma slots himself between your legs and finds your clit, his wet tongue covering the throbbing bud. 

You giggle and sigh and moan as the men take turns alternating between your nipples and clit, using different toys from the toy box to further stimulate you. Kento sits back and enjoys the show, his cock throbbing in his pants at the sight of you writhing in ecstasy. They’ve done this before and he trusts them as they expertly begin building up your climax, making you cum with ease, your pussy spasming almost unbearably with each one. 

“Such a beautiful sight,” Kento murmurs appreciatively. “My little slut is enjoying herself.” He notices Kusakabe sitting a little away from everyone, his pants still zipped, looking like he’s unsure how to join in. 

Gojo waves him over. “I was gonna pick a toy for her. Why don’t you take over her tits?”

“You’d be more comfortable if you freed yourself Kusakabe,” Kento notes how he’s struggling to move against the tent in his pants. The brown-haired man tenses, like he’s doing this against his better judgment, then frees himself with a groan, his long cock finally out of his pants.

“There you go. Now isn’t it easier to move? Now please, take your place in pleasuring my pet.” Kento looks over to you, vulnerably exposed and sprawled on the coffee table sighing with delight. Gojo turns on a curved vibrating wand and begins to insert it into your wet cunt, making you gasp. Higuruma rubs circles on your clit with his tongue. You buck into his face, making him chuckle. The black-haired man pats you affectionately.

“All in good time little pet,” Higuruma purrs against your wetness before starting again.  Kusakabe finally joins in and pinches your nipples, tugging on them, drawing a lewd cry of need from you.

Kento pets your hair. “Just relax,” He coos softly. “Enjoy the attention.” He gives Gojo a look who gets his message immediately and pulls the vibrator out of you. You whimper in protest, missing the buzz before feeling Kento’s hand tease your wet slit. 

“Such a greedy little thing” He murmurs, dipping two fingers into your dripping cunt, making you cry out. “Look at how you’re sucking me in…But I wouldn't have you any other way.”

You moan weakly as Kento fingers your cunt, curling up into that gummy patch and bearing down, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your face contorts with pleasure. “So good,” you manage to choke out. 

“That's it…” He purrs. “Let it all out…”

Your body quivers and then shakes violently as a strong orgasm rips through your being, your legs trembling from the effort of holding yourself up. Kento continues to finger you through your orgasm, milking every last drop of your juices.

“Good girl, ” He murmurs, pulling his fingers free to offer them to your mouth. “Taste yourself.”

You obediently suck his fingers clean, gazing at him hazily, still dizzy from the orgasm. His hand strokes your cheek tenderly, his expression softening.” Such a good little slut. You please me so much.” He turns away from you. 

“Excellent work gentleman,” he addresses his colleagues. “I think she had the time of her life.”

“She makes it easy Nanami,’ Higuruma chuckles, wiping his mouth. “Just lets us use her.”

“Like the good girl she is.” Kento gently squeezes your shoulders and back, easing out the lingering tension from the string of orgasms you had experienced. “And she’s nice and wet for me now….”

His hands move to grip your hips firmly before giving your ass a slap, making you wriggle. You quickly stop as you feel him align himself behind you, his tip waiting at the entrance of your pussy before firmly pushing himself into your wetness. Your pussy is sensitive after all the orgasms but Kento’s thick veiny cock filling you almost makes you go cross-eyed. Your pussy molds to him, remembering every inch and moaning loud as he keeps going in, your pussy tight and snug around his hot velvety meat. With a grunt he begins to thrust, losing himself in the feeling of being buried inside you, inside the moist warmth of your welcoming pussy, using your body to fuel his pleasure. 

“That's it,” He growls out, spanking your ass again, seeing the skin redden. “Take my cock like the dirty little whore you are.” You’re practically giggling as Kento spanks and fucks you in front of everyone. enjoying this a little too much. Kento grins wickedly, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he hears you giggle. 

“Enjoying yourself, aren't you?” He taunts, his voice laced with amusement. He slaps your ass hard enough to leave a mark and then grabs your hair, pulling your head back, fucking you hard and fast, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his climax. “Showing off to everyone how much you enjoy my cock?”

“Yes…That's it... Fill me with cum,” you whimper as his thrusts become more animalistic, hips slamming into your plush backside, balls slapping against your pussy as he struggles to hold on. 

“That's it,” He groans out, driving himself deeper into your quivering depths. “Take my seed…”

With one final thrust, he buries himself completely within you before releasing a guttural roar as he fills you with hot spurts of cum. Kento pants heavily, his body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. His cock throbs inside you, emptying itself completely before finally going limp.

His large hands run soothingly over your back, and he leans down to press a kiss to your ear. “You did so well my sweet. Took every last drop of me,” he whispers appreciatively, resting his cheek on your head for a brief moment before adjusting you into a deep arch in preparation to pull himself out. 

“Show them what’s mine,” he growls possessively before sliding out. You lean forward as much as you can and spread your pussy, widening your sore legs as much as possible so that the other men can see his cum dripping out of you, feeling deliciously naughty as it falls from your abused hole onto the carpet.  

“That’s it,” Kento’s hiss of approval cuts through the room, relishing the sight of you being stuffed with his seed. 

He turns and sees Gojo and Hiuruma calmly drinking their liquor, stroking themselves at leisure, but Kusakabe is scrunched into a corner of the sofa, knuckles turning white as he clutched his glass, his cock still poking out of the gap of his zip, untouched. You look over your shoulder and can’t suppress the laugh that bubbles out of you as you see his face. 

“Dessert is served,” you call out. “Fresh creampie.”

Kento laughs heartily at that and everyone else joins in, Kusakabe breaking into a hesitant smile. 

“She has a point though,” Kento admits as the laughter dies down. “She loves creampies and I can’t give her another one till she’s been cleaned. So. Who wants a taste?”

Unsurprisingly, Gojo sets down his glass first and makes his way towards your hunched form. He’s known you both the longest and has no qualms over helping you clean up. Kusakabe’s eye twitches as Gojo kneels down and starts licking your pussy clean, slurping sounds fill the room. He does a thorough job, getting every last bit of cum from your folds. You hum and try not to simper, enjoying every moment of debauchery. Once done, Gojo returns to his spot on the couch and wipes his mouth with a napkin. 

“Thank you, Gojo. Now before I-” Kento pauses and it’s clear why. Your cunt is beginning to leak again despite the cleanup you were just given.

“How much did you unload Nanami?” Gojo asks in surprise, causing Higuruma to chuckle, almost inhaling his drink. “Her pussy got you in a death grip it looks like.”

Nanami grabs your ass cheeks and shakes them gently and you can feel the hot wet cream sliding out of your inner crevices. “That is quite a lot…looks like we’ll need another cleanup volunteer.”

“Ah, this brings back memories, doesn’t it Higuruma?” Gojo asks while ribbing him good-naturedly. 

“Indeed,” Higuruma agrees, looking a little nostalgic. “When I was vetted, I cleaned out your pet didn’t I Gojo? And when it was still leaking…I spent almost 10 minutes with my tongue in her cunt.”

They both look at Kusakabe who’s looking dubious. “Me?” he asks, blushing under their grins. 

“Yeah, you’re the new guy. Show us you’re not afraid to handle new experiences.” They goad him, jeering at his shyness. 

“I’ve just never-”

“Neither did I,” Higuruma interrupted him. “But we’re a team. It’s important to learn, and be open to tackling unfamiliar territory. Be a good sport now.”

“But I-”

“You might not want to keep your bosses waiting. Especially with a pet hanging in the balance. She was promised another round and she won’t get it until you clean her up. Everyone does their equal share of chores here.” Gojo’s sharp tone makes Kusakabe flinch and he moves to settle on the carpet. 

He sees the thick, milky fluid seeping from your cunt, dripping and coating your folds. He hesitates, then darts his tongue out to start the process. You hum in approval as he gently licks away the residue, and he’s surprised that it wasn’t at all what he expected.

“Why does she taste like…?” he asks the room.

“Watermelon candy?” Kento supplies and Kusakabe nods stupidly. “That’s just something unique to her pussy. She has a very pretty natural scent and flavor.”

Spurred by the flavor, Kusakabe returns with vigor and sticks his tongue into you, drawing out a long moan of satisfaction. Higuruma laughs at the sight. “Boy likes watermelon,” he drawls amusedly, and Gojo chortles. 

You on the other hand are lost in the sensation of Kusakabe’s cleaning efforts. “Yeah that's it...put your tongue all the way in... Mmm…” you sigh as he listens to your instructions. Kusakabe continues until he can’t feel any more of the salty, watermelon-flavored fluid coming back down. He backs away, his chin and the tip of his nose moist from his actions.

“I think that’s all of it,” he says, gently spreading apart your lips, and seeing the absence of cum.

“Good job Kusakabe,” Kento says gruffly and he scrambles back to his seat. “Now that she’s been properly cleaned,” he spreads your ass cheeks and without warning, slips inside your slick folds, making you gasp and rise off the carpet for a brief second. Gojo whistles appreciatively. 

Kento grips your hips tightly and pounds into your pussy relentlessly, Your moans turn into louder and louder screams as he pistons in and out of you. You grip the edges of the coffee table, trying to find balance but Kento is bullying himself into you, fucking into newer depths that have you seeing stars. Your voice is shrill as you make lewd requests, brain cells all dead from a pleasure overdrive. 

“Kento…Cum in me... Fuck it in so deep that drips for days…” You manage to string those words together with difficulty. Kento grunts in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he feels your walls tighten around him.

He grits out, “I'm gonna fill you up so much you won't be able to walk straight...You’ll go to work with my cum spilling into your panties, even days after I’m done with you…” With those words, he buries himself deep inside of you once again before releasing his load directly into your womb, spraying your walls with his hot seed. 

His hips stutter for a second and you begin to relax, thinking he’s going to pull out then squeal in surprise as he pulls you back closer, his chest covering your back, rutting into you sloppily. “Gotta fuck it in there deep…can’t waste it…no good if it drips back down right away…” His hand reaches down to massage your clit gently as he continues to pump his cum into you.

You cry out at the added stimulation, powerless to do anything but let him use you to his liking. The way he fucks you, hitting your gpot, makes you feel like you might fall apart from the intense pleasure of it all. 

“Your cunt is my kingdom,” he says in a low deep purr. Things are messy and sloppy, their combined fluids making it easy for him to fuck into her with speed. Kento groans in pleasure as he feels his cock twitch inside you, the sensation of your warm, wet walls milking him combined with the knowledge that he's filling you to the brim with his seed pushes him over the edge a third time. “I'm gonna fill you up again…” And with those words, Kento releases another torrent of cum into your already overflowing womb.

He almost collapses on top of you, the effort from the night taking a toll on him, his breaths ragged and uneven as he tries to regain some sort of thought after the intensity of it all. He stays still for a second and you feel him beginning to soften. Kento pulls out slowly, his thick cream oozing out of your well-fucked cunt. He watches as it dribbles down your thighs, satisfied by the sight.

“There we go. You've got more than enough of my cum to last you a few days…”

“Thank you Kento,” you say sweetly, and roll over, feeling your muscles pull and stretch painfully as you relax onto the carpet. Milky cream still flows from you onto the floor as you sigh. Kento kisses you softly, cleaning off his cum covered cock with some napkins.

He turns to look at his peers, then focuses on Kusakabe. “You didn’t touch yourself at all?”

Kusakabe shakes his head no and looks at the other two, both of them holding napkins over their cocks, having clearly been jerking themselves off until now. Kento huffs through his nose. “That either shows that you have great restraint or hesitate to grab opportunities when they are handed to you.”

He now addresses Gojo and Higuruma. 

“I know you’re probably eager to go home and relieve yourselves with your own pets,” Nanami says, tucking his dick away into his pants. “But can we have a quick assessment of Kusakabe before we call it a night?”

“I think he needs to loosen up a little,” Gojo says, crumpling the tissues in his hand.”

“And needs to take action a little faster.” Higuruma stands to pull up his boxers and pants. “You kept needing to be prompted when the rules stated that all you had to was ask for permission to touch. And even then you didn’t take action. You’ll have to be more independent than that to succeed here.”

Kento pulls you onto his lap, not caring that cum was seeping into his expensive tailored pants from your pussy. “If you’re willing to work on those things, perhaps we can set up another informal interview like this one. Maybe…with Higuruma’s pet next time?” He strokes your hair as he glances at the dark-haired man who nods.

“I believe we could.”

“Ok Kusakabe, you have another chance,” Gojo says pointedly to him. “Just allow yourself to relax around us. We want to help you.”

Kusakabe nods enthusiastically. “Of course! Please let me know when the next gathering will be.”

He looks thoughtful for a second then asks, “How long did it take before you were awarded office pets?”

“Oh Kusakabe.” Kento possessively cradles you in his arms. “Try to last long enough for your name to even be remembered by HR. Then we’ll see if you’ll ever be worthy of one.” 

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #nanami kento x reader smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #gojo #gojo satoru smut #higuruma hiromi #higuruma smut #kusakabe atsuya #kusakabe smut #anime smut

[yellowssillysymphs]

The only “autism superpower” I have is immediately detecting that a character is autistic just by how they act.

#like a gaydar but autism #they are the most unconventional ones too #kipo is the most adhd / autism coded character but I detected Jamack immediately because it is just a feeling #my autism senses are tingling #spamton #The Collector toh #red son lmk #courtney dead end #wheatley portal 2 #submas #the narrator tsp #YES THE NARRATOR FROM THE STANLEY PARABLE DON'T LOOK AT ME #reigen arataka #saiki k #mob pyscho 100 #Yellow says stuff #not tagging more bcus im scared

[ryuusea]

💐 / sherliam, flower language

when married to a guy whose mind palace only stores flowers with poison/medicinal value

I recently got a book, “Floriography: An Illustrated Guide to Victorian Language of Flowers” and it was fun applying it here! I imagine Liam knows Sherly doesn’t really bother to remember flower language, so incorporates Sherly’s knowledge of poisons/medicinal herbs for the fun of it!

#if liam wants flowers I imagine he also wants Sherly to have some fun with them too lol #imagine their apartment like some flowers on display at the window but then you see some ground up or in chemistry glasses #also imagine liam putting together the most unconventional bouquets with poisonous plants but most interesting meanings #btw one last note #cornflower + honeysuckle = true devotion to a loved one #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #sherliam #liam james moriarty #ynm sherlock Holmes #language of flowers #flower language #EDIT orz I just noticed I forgot to color in one lapel on sherly #I crossposted everywhere already too lazy to re upload

[brechtian]

this thesis literally better meet her standards this time it has everything it's formalist with a dash of deconstruction it incorporates my research into the occult i can fold in a quick comparison to the end of her favorite woolf novel (dalloway) it even includes my original (REJECTED !) idea of exploring bernard and authorship as divine creativity. if she says no to it literally don't know what i'll do

#my first proposal was to focus on bernard as the character most closely intertwined with the cut narrator from the waves and the language/ #subjects of the interludes but she didnt like it bc she said author as god was overdone and i was too smart for that. sigh which is fine. #the thesis im proposing is going to be about how a) the waves central tension/conflict surrounds the characters striving towards a spiritua #oneness and univocity that feels distinctly both occult and deleuzean and how the form forces the characters apart from each other and the #action while also forcing distance between the reader and the text (a series of unconventional not-quite-soliloquies directed at no one. ch #racters who are always talking but can never speak to each other) and the ending merges characters and forms to create an essential oneness #that is distinctly creative in nature (see deleuze and pure immanence) #yes a lot of these ideas have been remarked upon separately by scholars but they havent quite been married in this way . i think its really #solid

[youjustwaitsunshine]

i have such a cool boyfriend

#i mean that #he's a massive nerd but he's so cool #he can fix anything #not in a professional way but he can make it work again #he plays piano #well actually he collects pianos (especially self playing ones) and most of them he gets for free on ebay #he has a functional three story pipe organ at home and has charmed his way into regularly playing the church organ at this church here #he couldn't hurt a fly but he's soo strong #he's had a very unconventional childhood and hes soooo weird and i love him so much #hes just such a creacher #if he now wore properly fitting clothes hed be perfect #also hes such a gentleman #he did offer me his shoes when my feet hurt from my heels too #and we have the same clothing size

[xinanigans]

Ouuu.. that’s like 6 tests I need to study/make up for…

#I don’t even know if I can make the history one up since the make up was today #I’m gonna do most of them Thursday though I need sleep #I think the art application caused me so much stress to the point my immune system just dipped #such an unconventional time to get sick too smh #can I just die????

[isekyaaa]

I don't mind yandere fics typically, but lately I've been reading them and I can't help but think that all them yans are attracted to the most pathetic boring people.

#rambles #i mean i said it before that serial killers profile people and only go after the ones that won't put up a fight #so when i read certain fics they seem to follow the logic that yanderes work in the same way #i just want to read fics where yans are attracted to more unconventional darlings #the person that enjoys debates a little too much #the one that posts constantly to tiktok #the girl that puts on a full face of makeup every single day #the guy that's a serial arsonist #there's just too many yans falling in love with the most generic 'good' people in the world #give me something spicy #let's flip the script #overturn the genre #i still have so many ideas for that yandere idea i posted a while back haha

[arachine]

yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing. 

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks. 

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince: 

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’” 

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up. 

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad. 

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?” 

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there. 

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily. 

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy. 

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.” 

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level. 

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes. 

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him. 

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after. 

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.” 

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping. 

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner. 

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence. 

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question. 

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod. 

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement. 

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her. 

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul. 

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall. 

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat. 

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice. 

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed. 

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life. 

“You tried any dating apps?” 

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?” 

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?” 

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces. 

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes. 

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars. 

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!” 

“Right…” 

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too. 

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match. 

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace. 

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail. 

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’. 

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry. 

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch. 

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?” 

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response. 

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”  

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself. 

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality. 

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office. 

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.” 

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone. 

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type. 

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more. 

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit. 

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders. 

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it. 

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties). 

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile. 

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds. 

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are! 

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol). 

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so? 

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice. 

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say. 

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other. 

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it. 

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this). 

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too. 

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual. 

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago. 

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half. 

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’. 

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way. 

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult. 

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’” 

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call. 

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet. 

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body. 

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!” 

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother. 

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking. 

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.” 

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention. 

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki. 

“Come in, hon!” 

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room. 

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception. 

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment. 

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time. 

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly. 

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana. 

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate. 

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you. 

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone. 

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue. 

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them. 

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here. 

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know. 

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–” 

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him. 

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it. 

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something. 

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder. 

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t. 

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact. 

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase. 

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger. 

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?” 

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now. 

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway. 

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go. 

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs. 

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’. 

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children. 

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep. 

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him. 

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted. 

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight. 

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity. 

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say. 

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date. 

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further. 

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now. 

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot. 

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first. 

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened. 

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out. 

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch. 

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks. 

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?” 

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom. 

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you. 

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” 

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation. 

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.” 

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting. 

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow. 

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.” 

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d. 

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness. 

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating. 

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?” 

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes. 

“I don’t know…” you trail. 

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow. 

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway. 

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you. 

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.” 

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?” 

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.” 

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter. 

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed. 

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate. 

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating. 

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed. 

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit. 

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental? 

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence. 

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more. 

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.” 

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver. 

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers. 

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door. 

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?” 

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time. 

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?” 

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?” 

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you. 

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?” 

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal. 

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly. 

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.” 

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat. 

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence. 

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water. 

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?” 

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows. 

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?” 

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?” 

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?” 

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly. 

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter. 

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?” 

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass. 

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased. 

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment. 

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?” 

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy. 

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed. 

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!” 

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.” 

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.” 

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song. 

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns. 

To fall in love 

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them. 

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame. 

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage. 

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do 

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems. 

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were. 

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down. 

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling. 

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful. 

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs. 

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.” 

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay. 

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles). 

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it. 

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs. 

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.” 

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago. 

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.” 

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees. 

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound. 

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core. 

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love. 

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.” 

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you. 

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation. 

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins. 

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?” 

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue. 

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit. 

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.” 

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor. 

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them. 

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.” 

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes. 

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone. 

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand. 

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you. 

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears. 

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers. 

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously. 

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.” 

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm. 

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind. 

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.” 

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You. 

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally. 

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give. 

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.” 

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium. 

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.” 

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days. 

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp. 

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration. 

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.” 

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you. 

Soon, that silence is broken. 

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads. 

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying. 

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you. 

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages. 

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants. 

“Shit!” 

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you. 

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!” 

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom. 

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

© arachine 2023

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt) #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

[fayes-fics]

A Beneficial Arrangement

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A marriage pact with a Viscount. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), loss of virginity, vaginal sex. Bickering, developing relationship.

Word Count: 6.1 k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Anon request fill from HERE (Anthony and a headstrong independent reader make an unconventional marriage pact). Sorry it's taken so long to write this, but I hope you enjoy! <3

It’s a dreary, rather ordinary Tuesday in spring when your life takes a turn.

“The Viscount is in want of a wife.” 

That statement is all you hear as you walk past the drawing room where your mother is taking tea with her good friend, the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton.

“My eldest needs a husband,” your mother responds, offering you as if merely chattel; bile rises indignantly as she does so. “But I fear she is far too outspoken to be a suitable Viscountess.” 

You sigh in relief, ear pressed to the closed door now.

“Oh, believe me, nothing would be a better match for my darling Anthony than someone who will challenge him, stand up to him,” Violet peals a knowing laugh. “We should arrange a meeting.”

——

3 days later.

He assesses you with a cool eye as your gaze drifts briefly over to both of your mothers, watching expectantly from a nearby table in the tea shop.

“You should know I will only be taking a wife to fulfil my societal duty,” he sniffs airly. “However, I do not expect you to produce an heir. The title may pass to my younger brothers; they are more inclined to form romantic attachments than I. Their offspring can inherit this title; it feels like a curse anyhow,” he adds quieter, his tone mildly embittered.

“Well, on your attitude to marriage, I can wholeheartedly agree,” you state, stirring your tea primly. “I do not wish to be shackled. I wish to remain free. I shall marry, as there is no other path available to me, but I do not plan nor do I ever want to be someone's wife.” You utter the word with disdain as if it is toxic. 

His admittedly very handsome face transforms into one of surprise, a faint dot of colour on his cheeks as he peers at you as if assessing you in a new light.

“What?” You frown at him, his silent stare becoming too heavy to bear as his interest and engagement intensify.

“You are the first woman I have ever met who shares my outlook,” he confesses, seemingly caught off-guard. “It is so utterly refreshing… and, frankly, novel.” He pauses to pass his fingers slowly over his lips in a way that makes your stomach swoop, even if you refuse to acknowledge such even to yourself. “I do believe we should meet again to discuss this further,” he concludes.

And thus, you find yourself with the suit of one Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, both of your mothers overjoyed at the prospect.

——

9 days later.

“If I must marry, you are the most tolerable woman I have met, I must concede,” he states nonchalantly as you meet to promenade. 

It’s quite an opening line for only your third meeting, even for someone as renownedly blunt as the Viscount.

“And a good afternoon to you too, Viscount Bridgerton,” you drawl pointedly with a raised eyebrow, subtly hinting how his greeting may have been lacking.

He chuckles, a flash of what looks like admiration in his dark eyes.

“As such,” he continues, “I would not be averse to a martial arrangement with you. An agreement, a pact if you will, based on our mutual understanding of what we both want from such an endeavour.”

The speed and pragmatism of his apparent proposal do not surprise you in the least. In fact, you are actually grateful for the lack of ceremony around it. If you must marry, you prefer it be swift.

“Did you mean what you said last week? In the tearoom?” You quiz as you begin to walk shoulder to shoulder through Hyde Park, the early summer air heavy with the scent of roses.

“Every word,” he replies solemnly.

“Then, I suppose this is a beneficial arrangement for me too,” you shrug as if agreeing about the weather, not the very course of your future. But there is something about this man that feels inevitable, fateful, but not in a way you dread. Also, his face is so very pleasing. If you must indeed marry, at least the view across the dinner table will be nice.

“Then it is decided,” he nods decisively, a brusque smile passing over his lips. “I so greatly appreciate your candidness with regard to this matter. It makes the whole business so much easier to deal with.”

He offers a hand to shake, and you take it, bemused, shaking on the deal, pretending this mere touch doesn't make every butterfly in your stomach roar to life.

“I shall make the arrangements swiftly,” he states, again with a short smile and nod.

You are married within three weeks.

——

6 weeks later.

‘‘What on earth is this?” he practically spits as he rounds the corner of Bridgerton House onto the back lawn.

“What does it look like?” you sass, tearing the netted visor from your face.

“It looks an awful lot like my wife is fencing,” his reply dripping with conceited judgement.

“Well, I’m glad to know you do not need glasses, husband,” you respond dryly, nodding to accept the excuses of the butler you were sparring with, who suddenly seems very keen to scurry away now the Viscount has arrived.

“Perkins, do not think this has gone unnoticed,” Anthony calls pointedly after the retreating man.

“Leave him alone!” you bark, taking your husband aback with your ferocity, him turning to you and almost gaping in surprise. “Perkins must do my bidding as lady of the house, and I told him to fence with me,” you elucidate, keen that the innocent party not suffer any consequences for your decision. 

“Women do not fence,” he sniffs, changing the subject somewhat.

“This one does,” you riposte, spearing your epee tip into the grass to remove the suede gloves.

“It is unbecoming of a Viscountess,” he adds almost haughtily.

“Good thing such matters hold no truck with me,” you shrug, knowing you are likely provoking him. 

To hell with what is appropriate for a titled lady. The title, and all of its stifling rules and expectations, is the very last reason you married the man standing before you. No, the reason is far, far more simultaneously complex and simple than that. He excites you—in ways you don't even want to admit to yourself.

It’s not something you would divulge to anyone, but arguing with your new husband has become your new favourite pastime. On the rare occasions you see him, that is. Since your wedding day, you have mostly been ships passing at the dinner table; otherwise, your lives have been very separate. At night, his rooms are at the other end of the long hallway from yours, and his days are apparently filled with business obligations. While the utter freedom to fill your days as you wish has been a blessing, it’s also been perhaps a touch lonely.

When you do see Anthony, you invariably end up clashing about something. And, well, it’s often the highlight of your week. A thrill zipping down your spine as you do so. The only person you have met who can keep up with your verbal sparring. It makes you excited, breathless, dizzy, a fizz low in your belly that feels entirely beguiling. Today is no different; you feel that same sensation as he stares at you, arms crossed, exasperated.

“Well, if you insist upon this rebellious pastime,’ he sighs after a few beats, snatching your epee, “the least you can do is improve your grip,” he grouses, rolling his eyes.

You startle as he crowds into your back, a warm hand wrapping around yours as he passes you the blade and demonstrates a different way to wield it that you concede feels better. The spike of victory in your bloodstream from winning the argument morphs into something entirely different as he stands behind you, his breath tickling your ear and the tendrils of your hair as he provides instruction. 

You try to take the details on board, but your thoughts scatter with his overwhelming proximity. How have you never noticed the stirring amber notes of his cologne before? Or how very broad his chest is compared to his slim hips? Perhaps because this is the closest you have ever been, his body heat seeping into your spine, your heart fluttering hard against your ribs. You can’t decide if this effect your husband can have on you is the best or the worst thing. Somehow, it feels like both.

——

1 month later.

You are both relieved to avoid most of the season on the pretence of being on honeymoon, but inevitably, the time comes when you must debut as a married couple. Speculation about you growing ever since Lady Whistledown breathlessly reported your nuptials, a nearly unknown minor Ton member rapidly snaring the most eligible of perenially eligible bachelors.

So when you enter your first ball as Viscountess Bridgerton, all eyes are upon you. You feel mildly uncomfortable bedecked in jewels and a heavy silk dress, but know refinement is of importance at events such as these. You just cannot wait to get home and get out of them. This will never be your preferred milieu, a sentiment you apparently share with your husband—underneath his calm, unruffled exterior, you sense his dampened disquiet.

“Smile politely, nod in acknowledgement, but don't engage for any longer than necessary,” he counsels under his breath as an inevitable hush falls over the room when your arrival is announced. You are grateful for his steadfast support, his arm looped reassuringly through yours as you follow his advice, knowing he has navigated these waters much more than you have needed to. “The best thing to do is seem frightfully ordinary,” he explains quietly as you complete a circuit of the room. “They are ravenous for gossip; if none is to be had, their preoccupation will swiftly wane.”

Indeed, the initial excitement about your appearance soon dies down as other, perhaps more flamboyant, guests arrive. People approach expressing surprise about your union, but once he economically explains you just knew you were right for each other, they often quickly move on, seeming almost disappointed at the lack of apparent scandal.

As the evening progresses, you school your tongue at some of the barbs you overhear, more out of a wish to be left alone rather than any adherence to social rules. Most of the things that appear to preoccupy the Ton you have little patience for. As Anthony spends some time with business acquaintances, you eventually find yourself in the company of the female members of his family, whom you are quickly becoming very fond of with every passing day in their company. Particularly his benevolent mother and headstrong sister, Eloise. In fact, the latter is the primary witness to the flare of your true nature, fatigue overriding your ability to remain silent.

Cressida Cowper is being particularly venomous about a mutual acquaintance. Eloise is quick with her witty tongue in reply, and you cannot stop yourself from piling on your scorn as well.

“Perhaps if the braiding of your hair were less painful, it would allow you greater empathy,” you retort before you can stop yourself.

Eloise’s responding guffaw sprays lemonade all over Cressida, whose shocked mien is the last thing you see before she turns heel to attend to her ruined dress in private.

“That was sensational!” Eloise wheezes in awe as she blots the remnants of her beverage from her chin.

You sigh.

“It was unwise,” you correct, knowing you have probably just made an enemy of one of the worst gossips of the Ton.

“It was wholly accurate and justified,” a cool, authoritative voice cuts in, and you look up to find your husband before you, a rapt glint in his eye that makes your lungs feel tight. It appears he may have also been witness to the moment.

Eloise’s eyes briefly ping-pong between the two of you, and then she loops an arm into the crook of Anthony’s as you continue to gaze at each other, cataloguing something new about each other that you mutually admire.

“I like her,” Eloise nods at you. “Excellent choice of wife, brother,” she grins.

It breaks the spell between you but seems to further ingratiate you with at least one member of his family. And that makes you feel light as air in a way you don't fully understand.

——

2 months later.

Funnily enough, it’s another random Tuesday when your life takes a complete turn. Yet again, you find yourself in another heated debate with your husband of barely twelve weeks. This time while sojourning at your country estate, Aubrey Hall.

“Must you?” Anthony gripes, standing up from his desk and rounding towards where you stand.

“Must I what? Speak my mind?” you bite back, hands on your hips.

“Be so damn argumentative,” he expounds, hands also on hips, chest heaving a little, “urghh, you are so aggravating!”

“Same!” You shoot back. “I have never met a man quite as disagreeable as you,” you add, not realising as you argue that you have taken steps closer and are now huffing irritated breaths close to each other's faces.

“Why did you agree to marry me then?” he snarls, his gaze suddenly fixated on your bottom lip, unbeknownst to you, it’s glistening and swollen from biting in irritation at his demeanour.

“Right now, I have no earthly idea,” you volley in return, but your pounding heart gives away the real reason. No one makes you feel quite as alive as Anthony, even when he is driving you up the wall, like right now. “Why did you agree to marry me, seeing as I am so very ‘aggravating’?” you spit, parroting the word back at him.

His stare blisters as he draws himself to full height right before you.

“We made a pact,” he huffs, “this is duty, nothing more.” 

But the way he breathes and holds himself speaks to something else. A war in his body and mind. The maelstrom in his eyes belying his words… and then it hits you. So singular it knocks the wind from your lungs. This is desire. He wants you. In all the ways a man can want a woman. 

And damn it all to hell if you don’t feel precisely the same.

“For me as well,” your tart, mendacious reply is bitter on your tongue.

The tension in the air is taut like a cord, ready to snap. You both toe to toe, noses almost touching, laboured breaths as you stare each other down like some game to see who will capitulate first. 

“I do believe we are at an impasse… wife,” the last word dripping with disdain, but he is leaning closer than he ever has, his lips fractional inches from yours.

“It would appear so…,” you concur, “…husband,” you roll the last word slowly, lingering on the end of the first syllable as if it is both a treat and a bitter pill on your tongue.

“I have been raised a gentleman,” he hisses, “but there are times that you test my resolve.”

“I do nothing of the sort!” you decry, knowing you are lying even to yourself now. Somedays lately, you live to simply push his buttons, just to see what he will do. “And resolve of what? To not be a good husband? Because I can tell you, forthright, you are doing a wonderful job of being a terrible husband,” you goad, knowing you are poking the proverbial beast now.

“I give you a wonderful home to run as you please, I give you the freedom to pursue whatever pastimes you wish, I let you speak your mind. As Viscountess, the world is yours. What else could you possibly want in a husband? I do not ask you to do things, wifely things, that I could,” he warns, his voice buzzing low. “I could demand you submit to my will; it is my right,” he growls.

A flame behind your ribs catches fire, even as your eyes flash indignant.

“You do not wish for that sort of wife; you told me as much yourself.” It’s a heated whisper, much breathier than you mean it to be.

“A man can change his mind,” he gravels, “same as a woman can change hers if she wishes.”

“What made you change your mind?” 

He fixes you with a hypnotic, weighted stare.

“You.”

The way that one word drips from his lips tilts your whole existence. It’s so loaded you don’t know what to say. Unmoored, your system awash with chemicals, your mind flooding with images of sketches you have seen of men and women together. Of what the marital act can entail. It’s something you believed would not ever be a part of your marriage, your life, even, but now…. 

Now your handsome husband is staring at you, ragged breaths, face wild, telling you he has changed his mind. Maybe he wants that sort of marriage, that sort of union. Something gallops hard in your chest as he steps away, as if wrongly intuiting you are about to turn down his suit, and something bubbles up from deep inside you.

“Do not dare,” you growl.

His mouth falls open in shock.

“Do not tease me so and leave me wanting,” you continue with a boldness and timbre you barely recognise as your own. “‘Tis crueller to build false hope than to take what you want,” you sniff and stare him down, so wholly decisive in your intentions and desires. If this is the nudge he needs, you’ll give it.

“You want me to exercise my conjugal rights?” he falters, appearing utterly stunned.

You don’t answer; just do one thing, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. You close the last few inches and press your lips to his. 

They are soft and plush against yours, making your insides warm and glowing. Then, Anthony makes a noise in the back of his throat, and suddenly, he is kissing you back. So ferociously, you squeak into his mouth as he opens your lips and slides his tongue over yours, his strong arms pulling you into an embrace so you are enveloped by his warm body.

Good lord.

You feel like you are drowning in him as he grabs your jaw, directing the kiss, turning it into something wholly other. Your lips move endlessly together as you both greedily take from the other for what seems like ages. When you pull apart, you are both heaving breaths and staring at each other, almost confused.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” you snarl, wanting to rip every item of clothing from your body and his.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds airily.

And then you crash into each other again. Drinking desperately from each other's mouths, powerless to resist whatever flame draws you together. 

He walks you backwards as your tongues tangle, and you startle slightly as your bottom hits his imposing desk. Hands loop around your thighs, and he hoists you into the surface, never breaking the intoxicating kiss.

He tries to step between your legs, but your column dress is too tight to allow it. You attempt to wiggle the hem upwards as you kiss, then, with a frustrated grunt, he bats your hands away and, using a strength that shocks you, rips the silk material asunder from the hem to your hip.

“I loved this dress!” you decry over his lips, unwilling to admit you’d destroy every single dress you own if he just kept kissing you like this.

“I’ll buy you another,” he dismisses, pushing your thighs wide with his hands. “I’ll buy you as many as you want.” 

“You had better,” you challenge, scarcely able to believe you even have the wherewithal to debate with him, especially as this is the first time a man has ever touched your bare leg.

He pulls back from the kiss to stare intently into your eyes as his fingertips trace from your kneecap up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You don’t mean to, but you tremble, having never been touched this way before. You gasp as his palm cups the apex of your thighs, his hand feeling so warm through the thin silk protecting your modesty, his fingers swirling circles over your patch of hair as the heel of his palm presses against your slit.

“I can feel your heat,” he hisses.

You can barely process what is happening, your body rioting as he touches and teases you, staring you down. Instinctively, you reach for the tiny buttons at your hip, but your hands fall away as he flicks his middle finger downwards and catches a nub that makes your body buck.

“Anthony,” it falls from your lips unbidden with a halting breath. It may well be the first time you have uttered his first name in his presence.

He groans at the sound. “Please, always say my name like that,” he pleads through gritted teeth.

So you repeat it, the same intonation, even as that finger drags slowly up and down over the swollen pearl between your legs, undone by how good it feels.

“Are you chaste?” he inquires; it’s not judgemental in tone, just pure curiosity, his ministrations lighter.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, “but I do know of the marital act”, you add, wanting him to know you are not entirely innocent.

“Hmm,” he hums, looking at once thoughtful and blistering, his finger moving more insistently again, “I am glad to hear it. Then you shall not be entirely shocked by what is about to happen?”

“So… we are to undertake it? The act?” you stutter, his finger making you feel so good you have to bite your lip.

But he doesn’t answer your question directly. 

“Wife, how attached are you to these undergarments?” his tone almost idle, cocking his head to the side as his gaze lingers over them.

You shrug practically. “I have many exactly the same.”

Then, you gasp loudly as the sound of silk tearing fills the room. You are quaking as the warm air of his study swirls around your exposed, damp slit. He shocks you by dropping to his knees before you. Pushing your thighs wide on his desk and looking up at you with burningly intense eyes, he presses his face to your flesh, inhaling deeply, his nose buried in your pubic hair before his tongue peeks out and nudges the swollen nub he was teasing through the silk. 

Your mouth drops open, and something inhuman escapes your lungs. Then he does it again, this time enclosing the whole area between his lips and sucking hard on your flesh, tongue curling and ploughing into your folds. The heat, the suction, the muscular swipe of his tongue feels so good your mind blanks out, a tremor in your splayed thighs that he holds forcibly open with warm hands. He keeps doing so for a few moments as your fingernails curl hard into the edge of his desk, scarcely able to do anything but writhe and gently moan. IIdly you think upon all of your curious research, never once had you heard of or read about a man doing as he is now, placing his head between his wife’s thighs and sniffing, drinking from her body.

“You are plenty ready for me, wife,” he huffs, his warm breath tickling your responsive folds, little ripples of pleasure deep inside scattering your thoughts. “Are you averse to me taking you right here?” he waves a hand nonchalantly at his large, imposing carved wooden desk.

“I… I rather thought su-such things could only ha-happen in a bed,” you confess stiltedly, a quiver in your voice.

He smirks up from between your thighs, turning his head to kiss the fragile skin there. “Oh, no, wife. We can fuck anywhere we please…” he pauses and looks sincere, “however, should you prefer a bed…”

“Here is fine,” you rush out, so very keen to have your husband make a woman of you. As if leaving this room may break the spell you are under. Location be damned. You just want to know him. He smirks again, placing a final quick kiss on your flesh, looking very pleased at your response.

“I wholeheartedly concur,” he rumbles as he hoists himself back up to stand, stepping inwards to rock his clothed pelvis against your pulsing nub. There is something hot and swollen in his trousers now, and you realise this must be his member. 

“Show it to me,” you enthuse, nodding at the insistent bulge.

“So very impatient all of a sudden, wife,” he scolds with a bemused chuckle, grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand over the bump. It feels so hot and steely even through the fabric. “Unbutton me,” he orders casually, pointing to the fastening at his hip. 

Exuberantly, you undo them quickly, keen to see if his member matches the sketches you have viewed. As the front of his trousers falls away, he quickly pushes down his white underwear. There, nestled in a thatch of dark hair at the base, is your husband's cock. Your eyes widen at the sight. It seems more considerable than the drawings you have seen, and you are temporarily taken aback by how red and almost angry it looks at the tip.

“Go ahead, touch it,” Anthony encourages, and with a slight tremble in your fingers, you reach forward and make contact with him.

“Oh!” you exclaim without thought, “it’s so soft, your skin, and so hot!” 

He chuckles warmly at your assessment. “Indeed,” he huffs as you wrap your hand instinctively around it, feeling its weight and mass in your palm.

“This will not fit inside me, surely?” you blurt out.

“It will, I promise,” his tone mellow, tinged with understanding even as his breath staccatos when you start to move your hand, the instinct to rub inexplicable, but seemingly precisely what he wants. “Yes, perfect,” he rasps, eyes closing and tongue peaking out to lick his lips.

The odd mix of total honesty and soft appreciation between you as you acquaint yourselves with each other's bodies seems very apt, as if this is the only way such a development would ever transpire. And you realise, as you cradle his most intimate parts, that you trust this man with your very being. Despite your bickering, there is a thread of mutual respect under it that makes you feel safe, seen, and known in a way that no other person has.

“Take me now, husband,” you rattle through your teeth, watching a bead of something sticky form at the tip of his cock as you squeeze him in hypnotic, repetitive motions. The sight makes something in your body turn to fiery liquid, wanting him and that substance inside yourself in a way that doesn't make logical sense. 

He growls at your words, grabbing your hand away from his cock and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of your knuckles as your eyes lock, a chaste, almost romantic interlude.

But then his hands grab your hips and haul you almost roughly to the very edge of the desk, your torn dress framing your splayed thighs, his trousers around his ankles as he takes his cock in hand and rubs the tip over your folds of flesh in a way that makes you moan under your breath.

“Are you certain?” he checks, even as he pants anticipatorily.

“God, yes,” you confirm, craving him in a way you have never felt about anything before. An urgent hook tugging deep inside your loins, calling to him like a siren song.

“Watch,” he murmurs darkly, his other hand rounding the back of your neck so your gaze is tilted down to where his cock nudges your opening.

So you do, as does he. Stare down to where your body meet, hissing loudly as his tip slips inside your soaked channel. Your eyes want to roll back at the sheer overwhelming sensation of it, but equally, it's such an enthralling sight that you can’t look away.

He moans loudly, lewdly, decadently as he pushes further into your heat, pausing to readjust your legs wider and tilt your pelvis more open.

“This next part may hurt, darling,” he whispers quietly, the first time he has ever used such an affectionate term for you, making your heart race. 

“It's alright,” you reassure mutely in return, “I have heard as such.”

The hand around the back of your neck slides gently until he tilts your chin up to meet his tender gaze.

“You are quite the woman,” he says, almost reverential, as he leans in and captures your lips in a sweet, soft kiss. 

The movement propels his cock deeper into your body, and you cry out into his open mouth at a stab of sharp pain inside. 

“That's it done,” he mutters reassuringly into your lips as you whimper gently. 

He stills as you adjust to the girth, the heat, and feeling so very filled.

“More…” falls from your mouth spontaneously, the want rising, hungry for a need to be met, a thirst slaked, unlike anything you have experienced.

The smile that breaks out over his face makes your nipples pebble hard in your stays, and he slides deeper as you cling to him, exhaling unevenly as he keeps sinking further into your pussy, pushing you open. Just when you think you cannot take more, he stops, and you feel his body pressing wholly against yours.

You stare at each other, eyes wild and wide, unable to form words but knowing instinctually how good this feels for both of you. He looks untamed, something urgent rippling in his being. And without breaking the gaze, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock is inside you, then ploughs back in, in one determined, decisive stroke.

You don't stop the decadent noise that escapes your lungs, your toes curling into the soles of your feet at how wonderful and all-encompassing that feels. Same as you don't miss the victorious smirk on his face at your reaction.

Then it’s a hungry blur of movement as your hands grab his biceps through his clothing, clinging on for dear life as he proceeds to move just like that first thrust. Over and over. Building in pace and with increasing intensity, him sensing your need for such things.

“Anthony…” his name spills over your lips again, and the impact on him is nothing short of extraordinary.

His hands clamp vicelike to your hips, branding heatedly over your skin through your dress, straining the tendons of your inner thighs as he pushes your legs open impossibly wide, his pelvis crashing into yours in a way you are certain may leave bruises. And what shocks you most is just how much you want it. Want him to leave signs of his presence, want to look in the mirror and see the outline of his digits in the globes of your bottom.

He moans your name, hot and desperate, into your ear, his pace never wavering, a drop of sweat forming on his forehead that you can't look away from when he pulls back to tilt your heads together.

“I want to see,” you stumble out, pantingly, as he takes you harder.

“See what?” he sounds almost winded, his thrusts still spearing his cock into your body.

“See you entering me,” you huff into his cheek.

His responding noise is feral and has every inch of your body alight. He bows his spine outward so your bodies only touch where you are joined, and his hand feels heated and heavy on the back of your neck as you tilt your chin down to take in the sight.

His cock, rigid and huge, ploughing repeatedly into your body, shining with a slick substance you can only assume is from within you, the sight making you shudder, but not with anything approaching disgust. It’s something primal. A need to chase a conclusion, the power of the vivid tableau burned into your retinas.

“Don't stop, please don't stop,” you petition, looking back up to his face, your hands sliding up and down his torso now, raking urgent fingernails over his clothing.

He swears, and his lips are back on yours, searing and demanding. This feels like a frantic wave you are riding together, a trickle of moisture running down your spine as you start to push your hips forward as much as you can, meeting his thrusts halfway.

“You are fucking perfect,” he snarls over your tongue, and you couldn't agree more.

Time seems elastic as he lowers you so your back rests on the piles of no doubt important paperwork, not that he pays it any mind, him hunched over you, pulling your hips out over the edge now, the range of motion it allows him making you gasp. He is taking you without mercy now, breath hot on your throat as he moans your name, his hand squirrelling between your bodies and making your vision dance with dots as he passes a slightly calloused tip over your clit.

“Come for me,” he breathes, the request both hopeful and commanding.

“What does that mean?” your question puffed into his lush hairline.

“Oh my darling, just you wait,” his voice dripping with promise even as your skin feels like it wants to vibrate off your very bones as his fingers and cock take you somewhere you never envision. An ecstasy both outside but rooted deep in your being.

He murmurs encouragingly as you struggle for air, your lungs burning, scarcely remembering to breathe, skating some kind of precipice that feels dangerous and addictive. Then, with a flick of his thumb and a gentle bite of your earlobe, you fall into an abyss. Everything all at once quiet and loud, eyes screwed shut as colours burst behind them, and every fibre of your being seems to snap and break, rearranging in a mind-shattering way. Your pussy convulsing hard around his cock that now seems impossibly large.

Then, with a deep booming cry, you feel him lance deeper than ever, his whole body tensing and jerking. A warmth spreads inside, and you vaguely realise he is reaching completion, spilling his seed inside you. For what seems like ages, your mind and body float somewhere, utterly sated, suddenly understanding why this act can be so all-consuming and there is so much written of it.

When your mind returns to the room, you are panting into each other's necks, both breathlessly stunned at how animalistic your first intimacy was. Somehow, your antagonistic chemistry transmuting into an explosive, consuming passion.

“We are going to bed right now,” his tone wrecked, rough, so damn irresistible you want to bite his flesh, even while you still recover from what transpired. Fires stoked again just by those seven words.

He pulls up his trousers haphazardly, picks you up bridal-style, and sweeps you out of his office and up the grand staircase, ignoring the shocked looks of staff at your torn dress and his roughly pulled clothing. 

“We are not to be disturbed,” he barks at his valet, who blanches and leaves the room as Anthony practically throws you onto his imposing four-poster bed. Then, as you lay there, he strips naked before you, and you want to nuzzle every inch of his toned, magnificent body. 

___

It’s three days before you reemerge from what is now your joint bedroom. From that day on, you are never without your husband for more than two days; such is your magnetic need for each other. And when your belly swells with the first of your many children, he confesses his ardent, undying love for you, you returning the sentiment instantly, having felt the same for what seems like forever. 

A hurried, naive pact between two proud, independent souls becoming something wholly other—a loving, passionate marriage of equals. You still squabble with unerring frequency, but now it ends in lovemaking, the intensity sweeping you both into an ephemeral bliss.

A beneficial arrangement indeed.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @kisskissshutmydoor

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[margotw10bis]

Friendly Marriage. JJK [m]

bestfriend!JK x reader

Genre: smut; romance; bestfriend!Jungkook, babydaddy/exhusband!Jungkook (non-idol Jungkook)

Words: 19k

Synopsis: No one can really understand your relationship with your best friend. You are not in love but you did get married and you did have a son. It was just a friendly marriage, wasn't it?

Warnings: unprotected sex; breeding kink; oral sex (m. & f. receiving); In The Soop 2 JK (it's a warning)

Drabble 1

You can't believe Junghee is already three. It feels like he was born yesterday and yet, the big red 'Three' decorating his birthday cake tells otherwise. You want to keep him a baby all his life because he is so freaking cute! Sometimes you wish he'd look more like you but you're actually glad he looks just like his dad: that means he'll be really, really handsome. To be true, Jungkook is the most attractive man you know with his raven hair and his doe eyes. And let's not talk about his body... so damn hot with perfect muscles and a full tattooed sleeve. However, he is your best friend, not your husband. Or not anymore to be precise.

Things with Jungkook have always been weird for other people. You have been best friends since you were eight and your parents and friends were convinced that you two could end up together. Maybe the fact that you got married sent them mixed signals... But it was just for fun, there was no love involved. No romantic love. Sure, you love Jungkook and he loves you but not like that. No one can really understand how you feel for each other because it's way more than a four letter word.

You've always felt safe with your best friend. You know that if everyone around abandons you, Jungkook won't. Ever. And you're sure that you can't love someone more than him, except your cute little son of course.

So, at twenty-two, getting married together seemed fun. You were joking around about some friends asking you for the millionth times if you were dating and then, Jungkook said 'Let's get married'. You laughed and said yes. And you got married. It was just you and him and it was perfect. You remember Jungkook saying his vows 'You are supposed to marry the person you love the most, and it's you Y/N'. You could understand what he meant because you felt just the same.

And living together was nice too. Especially because you were already roommates. Nothing really changed between you, despite the rings on your fingers. But your family and friends were completely lost: you were married but not dating. You weren't even kissing! The only time your lips touched was at your wedding and you couldn't stop laughing.

After one year of a happy friendly marriage, Jungkook asked you if you wanted to have kids. You told him that you sure wanted to but you were not sure to meet someone as loving and caring as him to be the father of your baby. And there came the other craziest idea of your best friend: having a baby together. Which meant confusing your family and friends even more.

The baby making process was so weird. It was the first time you saw each other naked, even though you got peaks of Jungkook's perfect chest and abs a lot of times. Just like your first kiss, you didn't stop laughing, resulting in Jungkook scolding you: 'Could you stop laughing? I'm trying to concentrate here!'. And you laughed even more. He did make you cum though, so it was not so bad.

And then, your beautiful baby boy arrived. You couldn't dream of a more perfect family. Jungkook is the best person you know and your kid was made out of love, even if it's an unconventional one. Jungkook and you felt in love with Junghee the very first second you saw his puffy face and tiny fingers. The fact that he looks just like Jungkook makes you happy because he is such a great father. Honestly, he is the perfect man, except he is not your man.

You decided to get divorced one year ago without a real reason. It was just about time to end the joke and to confuse your loved ones one more time. Things haven't changed so much though. Jungkook still spends most of his time with Junghee and you. Well, maybe things have changed a little since Harin, Jungkook's girlfriend. Your best friend has to split his free time now but Harin is really nice. Junghee seems to like her too so it's all what matter to you.

"Daddy!" Junghee screams when Jungkook appears in the park where your family and a few friends have gathered

Jungkook immediately takes his son into his arms and hugs him.

"Wow, you looks so big! How old are you? Twelve already?" Jungkook jokes, making Junghee proud because your son is always trying to look older — unfortunately for you

"No! Three" Junghee replies, holding two fingers up

"Where's mama?"

"With grandma, I think she is baking the cake"

Junghee hides his face in Jungkook's neck. He missed his dad. He is not used to be without him for more than three days.

"Baking the cake in the park?" Jungkook chuckles before grabbing Harin's hand, still holding his son with one arm

Jungkook's smile brightens when he sees you. The simple jeans and white top you're wearing look perfect on you. You are indeed with your mother and you do have a cake next to you, but it's already baked. His son was right about most things.

Your mother's eyes leaving you to stare at something behind you make you curious. When you turn around and witness your son in his father's arms, your heart melts. It's such a perfect picture. There is so much love between the three of you that you could cry.

"Kook!" You greet him before waving at Harin

"Hi, baby mama!" He gives you a bunny smile but it fades a little bit when he notices the picnic blanket with so many food on it already set up "You should have called me to help you"

"She shouldn't have to ask, Jungkook" Your mother replies

You give her some strong look to ask her to stop. Your parents do love Jungkook, especially because he gave you the most perfect son. But it's true that something's changed since you mentioned your best friend having a girlfriend. Maybe they don't believe you when you tell them that you weren't in love and that you're happy for him. Or maybe they're a little annoyed that Jungkook has less time for Junghee.

"It's okay, Kook, it was not very hard to do. I'm glad you two came" You reassure him

"I want to play" Your son speaks up when he notices some of his friends coming closer

Jungkook drops him down and Junghee is running so fast that some dirt flies up. You watch your son hugging his friends and you wave at one of the dads. He is actually your colleague too and your sons go to the same kindergarten. It's not rare that Yoongi and you have lunch together and talk about your children. He is a nice guy, even though he doesn't talk much — you do much of the talking. He surprises you when he walks to you. You know that he is not a social butterfly.

"Hi, Y/N, how are you?" He asks you softly

"I'm fine" You answer with a sweet smile "Do you want to stay for the cake?"

"I'd love that" He replies, a little bit embarrassed, with a slight blush on his white cheeks

"Hi" Jungkook steps in the conversation "I'm Jungkook, Junghee's father"

Your best friend reaches out for Yoongi's hand and you can't help noticing how much alike and different they are. They have the same black hair and the same natural attractive aura. But they're so different for everything else. Jungkook is taller and brawnier while Yoongi is thiner and more delicate. His skin is pure white, even more when his veiny hand is close to Jungkook's inked skin.

"Yoongi. I work with Y/N"

Jungkook seems surprised but he doesn't have time to say anything because he can feel something squeezing his other hand. He now remembers that Harin is standing next to him.

"This is Harin, my girlfriend" Jungkook explains and Yoongi nods

Your colleague and you exchange a well intended look. You've talked about Harin before. You didn't say anything bad about her, of course, but you did mention that she was pretty and a little younger than you. In Yoongi's head, he just can't understand how Jungkook could prefer Harin to you. You're kind, smart and funny. You're a great mother. Yes, he just can't understand... But he is glad though.

"Daddy! Come push me" Seung asks Yoongi

"Mama, me too" Your son steps in

You chuckle and start walking to the swings. Yoongi and you make sure to bring your sons high in order to hear more of their happy cheers.

"Jungkook seems to be a nice guy. Good handshake, too" Yoongi says

"Sorry" You wince, clearly understanding that your best friend might have crashed your colleague's hand "He is just protective. But he is great. I hope you'll get to know each other"

You look into Yoongi's intense and dark eyes and you both know what your words mean. Yoongi is a great guy and spending time with him made you develop a little crush on him. You know he is not married and that the relationship with his ex-wife is a little complicated — not everyone has the chance to have Jungkook as an ex — so you don't want to make things harder for him. But you do hope that things evolve between you. You haven't been with a man since before you got married and it's been a long time since you felt those butterflies in your stomach.

"Me too" He replies simply, no other words are necessary to say what you want to say

A few hours later, everyone is around your son to sing the Happy Birthday song. He claps his tiny hands with enthusiasm and laughs. It makes you so happy to see Junghee happy. You love your son so, so much that your eyes water. He is growing up so fast and you're scared to miss some moments of it.

"Don't cry, mama" Jungkook teases you, pulling you to his side, and then whispers into your ear "We can have another baby if you want"

You gasp and smack his buff chest.

"Let's take a photo" He says "Yoongi, right? Can you?"

Your best friend hands his phone to your colleague and you grab Junghee into your arms. You three pose next to the cake. You absolutely love taking photos of your family, it brings so many memories when you look at them later. Jungkook brings you closer and looks straight. Not into the camera but into Yoongi's eyes. He paints a genuine smile on his face but his eyes are sparkling with challenge.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

"You look so pretty, mama"

"Aw, thanks baby" Your heart melts at the compliment

You apply at last layer of gloss on your lips and turn around to hug your son. You feel a little stressed: it's the first date you have in almost five years. And you're not used to wear such elegant clothes. But you really wanted to feel like a woman tonight and not only a mom. So you chose a tight but not too short black dress. The square cleavage and the thin straps makes it simple enough to feel comfortable.

You take a last look in the mirror to fix a strand of hair that managed to escape your low ponytail. You look like an adult and it feels weird. However, you do like how you look.

"I'm home!" A well-known voice comes from the entrance door

Junghee jumps off your bed and rushes to hug his dad. You follow him and you notice that Jungkook's jaw almost falls on the ground. You chuckle and make a turn.

"What do you think?" You ask Jungkook with redden cheeks

"You're beautiful"

Jungkook's deep voice makes you shiver. You try to look into his doe eyes to detect any sign of teasing but there is not. There is only sincerity in them.

"So, you're going out with Yoongi?" Jungkook asks, a little tensed

"Yeah. We'll see. I haven't been on a date for ages" You joke and bite on your lower lip

"It's gonna be fine, Y/N" Your best friend reassures you "You're gonna have fun and you can call me if you need anything"

One of the reasons you love Jungkook so much is because of how supportive he is. You know he is as stressed as you are and that he is super protective toward you but he also roots for you. You give him a tender smile while your son is almost climbing on you because he wants to be held.

"So, what's up for you guys?" You ask, kissing Junghee's chubby cheek and leaving a stain of gloss

"There is a water show at Banpo Bridge so we'll have fun too, right buddy?" Jungkook cheers with his big bunny grin and scrunched noise

Your son mimics him without even meaning to and suddenly you feel bad to miss a nice moment with your family. The truth is that you're never happier than when you see your son smiling and having fun with his mom and dad.

"Hey, don't make that face" Jungkook tells you, rubbing your bare shoulder with his big and rough hand due to his boxing "We can go back another day with you"

You nod, appreciating how well your best friend knows you. With heavy heart, you hug Junghee and kiss Jungkook on the cheek, and finally leave your apartment to meet Yoongi.

Yoongi has chosen a fancy restaurant with a very sophisticated atmosphere. The place is really nice and the food is delicious. Yet, all you can think about is sitting on the grass on the Han River banks and watching a water show from a bridge. Yoongi's hand patting yours brings you back to reality.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, I was thinking about Junghee. I'm not used to be away from him" You reply, head down in embarrassment

Yoongi is very thoughtful and he is great company. You feel bad to make it look like he is not.

"Don't apologize. I know how you feel. I miss Seung every time he is staying at his mom's" He reassures you "If you want to go, I won't be mad"

You smile at him. God, he is such a great guy. He is the kind of guy you want, the kind who would never blame you for putting your son first because he would do the same for Seung. The thought drives you a little crazy and you begin to fantasize about a future with him, Junghee and Seung. A house full of laughs from your boys. It's a beautiful dream and it deserves a shot. Yoongi deserves a shot.

"I'm sure he is fine for the night" You say with a shy smile, squeezing Yoongi's hand a little and appreciating his cute gummy smile

"I miss mama" Junghee tells his father with watery eyes

Jungkook brings him on his lap to soothe him. Actually, your best friend misses you too but you deserve to be taken on a date. You deserve the flowers, the fancy wine and all the attentions a man should have on a date with you. And Jungkook is happy for you. Ever since Junghee's birth, all you have done was taking care of him. You're a great mother but sometimes Jungkook is afraid that you give up on other parts of your identity.

"I know, buddy" He gives his son a peck on his head "But look at show! Isn't it great? Don't you like the music and the water jets?"

Junghee looks up and even if he is young, he appreciates the beautiful night view of Seoul reflecting in Han River. The atmosphere is cheerful with the music, the blue and purple spots illuminating Banpo Bridge. And Junghee loves water too so he does find the water jets cool. But it doesn't prevent him from crying. Jungkook is trying to comfort him but your son just repeats that he wants you. Desperate, Jungkook pulls off his phone and dials your number.

You answer at the first tone, worried.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, Junghee just wants to talk to you"

Jungkook feels bad for ruining your date — well, only a little bad. He gives his phone to his son and a shaky voice reaches your ear.

"I miss you mama"

Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. Will you ever be able to spend a night without your son and not feel guilty? Especially now that you hear his cry.

"Oh, honey, I miss you too. I promise I'll be there soon. And I'll read you a story, okay?" You can't see it but Junghee nods, wiping his big rounded tears from his cheeks "Try to enjoy the show with daddy, okay?" Once again, your son nods

You hung up and look at Yoongi with sorry eyes.

"It's okay, Y/N. I told I wouldn't be mad" Yoongi gives you a sweet smile and it makes you even more sorry

"Well, if you are really not mad, maybe we could do that again another time?" You attempt, shyness painting your cheeks red

"That would be great"

Your last bold move of the night is a peck on Yoongi's cheek, right before you jump in your car and drive to Banpo Bridge. You spot Jungkook and Junghee almost immediately. Well, it's not very hard, you just have to follow the little whisperings of women who are commenting how hot your best friend looks, especially with a toddler in his arms. And you can only agree. His black oversized clothes, his eyebrow piercing and his tattoos make him look like a bad boy but the tenderness he is giving to Junghee is a dangerous weapon for hearts, including your weak one.

You try to approach as discreetly as possible and jump in front of them while shouting 'Surprise!'. Junghee chuckles and hugs you, so happy to finally see you. Jungkook's big dark eyes seem to be illuminated with all the stars of the galaxy and his bunny smile is wide and genuine.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook asks, happily surprised, making some room for you next to him on the blanket

"I missed my boys" You simply answer

You shiver a little because of the light breeze and your best friend notices it. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against his chest. You hum at his warmth. You are feeling so happy right now: Junghee is happy, Jungkook is happy and you are together. You can't dream about something more perfect than that.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

Jungkook has just opened his eyes that he knows it's going to be a long day. Not because he has a lot of things to do for his boxing school but because Harin has dropped a bomb and the conversation can only end badly.

"Would you want to get married?" She asked

And now, Jungkook doesn't know how to answer. He means, they've only been dating for a few months. Isn't it way too soon for this kind of commitment? Does he even want this kind of commitment, at all?

"I don't think I'm ready" Jungkook chooses to settle with

"But you already got married" Harin argues, crossing her arms on her chest, which makes Jungkook wince

"Yeah but it was like a joke"

He doesn't add that the joke doesn't mean it wasn't serious or it didn't involve love. He can't say that, no one but you can understand what he means. It's just like he said in his vows: you marry the person you love the most in the whole word and this person is you. He knows he can't love someone more than you because you're not his lover, you're his best friend. The person who knows him better than anyone, the person who knows all his flaws and still wants him. And god, he loves you even more since you give birth to Junghee. You gave Jungkook the most beautiful thing in the whole world and nothing could overcomes that.

"You had a kid, Jungkook" Harin spurs, reproach in her voice

And once again, it was serious. Junghee is truly a baby you wanted both and you conceived with love, maybe the purest love that exists. But he still can't say that to Harin. All his girlfriend sees is the fact that you've slept together and pretend you're not attracted to each other. Your best friend sighs, running his hand into his raven locks. God, it's going to be a long day...

"Listen, I got married with Y/N because we were young and foolish. I don't think I'm husband material"

Harin scoffs. She knows damn well how good of a husband he was to you. All your friends talk about it when Jungkook and her are hanging out with them. Except that you were married only on paper and that what made Jungkook a good husband was that he was actually your best friend and not your husband.

"Listen, babe" Jungkook tries to ease the tension "It's just too soon and Junghee is still going through the whole process of me being in a relationship. And now, his mom is also setting into a relationship so I guess he is a little bit lo—" He is cut off by Harin sudden bright eyes

"Wait! Y/N is dating?" She oddly sounds happy about it

"Uhm... Yes? I think, I don't know. But it's not the point, the point is—"

"It's okay!" Harin kisses him on the cheek "You're right, we have time to think about marriage and kids"

With that, she jumps off the bed, leaving Jungkook completely lost. When did they pass from marriage to having children? This is not good for Jungkook. He doesn't even want to talk about that. Not with Harin, anyway. She is fun and cute but Jungkook doesn't love her that much. He growls and puts a pillow upon his face wondering when his life went wrong.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

Junghee is drawing on your coffee table while you're taking care of your laundry. It's a very hot day and you're so glad that Jungkook has insisted in setting an air conditioner at your place. Speaking of the devil, the door opens and lets appearing a very handsome black-haired man. A smile grows naturally on your face. Your best friends walks to Junghee to rub his hair and then comes to you.

"Wow, is it Hot Moms Day?" He teases you, pecking your cheek

Jungkook actually only half-jokes because he's always had a soft spot for you wearing large loungewear pants and styling your hair in a bun secured with a hair grip. Maybe Jungkook has some kind of housewife or baby mama kink but he's not sure because it only makes him horny when it's you. Watching you taking care of Junghee makes him hard someway. Maybe it's because the only time he fucked you was when you conceived your son. Not to mention that you were gorgeous when you were pregnant and seeing your big belly full of his baby provided a great feeling of pride in Jungkook's chest.

"Don't you have boxing classes today, baby daddy?" You tease back

"Nope so..." Your best friend makes a dramatic pause to enhance your natural curiosity and it works, according to your questioning eye "I was thinking we could go to Busan. We could go to the beach and crash at my parent's. Junghee hasn't seen them in a long time"

"Yah!" Your son cheers, already running to you

You have no doubt that the word 'beach' attracted him. You're kind of worry because Busan is far away but the smile on your son face is enough to convince you. Jungkook takes Junghee in his arms and you know damn well what they are trying to do. They are looking at you with their big doe eyes to charm you and it works every single time.

"So, what do you say, baby mama?"

"Okay, let's go" You sigh, just for the appearance because deep down you feel pretty excited too

After packing some clothes for the weekend, you three took Jungkook's car and drove to Busan. Jungkook and Junghee sang so loud that you had to put your hands on your ears but you were actually happy.

Despite your best friend's exhaustion, he is cheerful while dining with his parents and you. It's been a long time since you saw them and they are like your second parents. Moreover, Junghee is really excited. Especially since his grandparents spoil him with so many toys you're not sure they'll fit in the car. It just feels good to be around your family and spending simple moments that mean everything.

Junghee is already asleep in Jungkook's old room between you and his dad. Your best friend is looking at you in the dark while you're patting your son's black hair. It's as smooth as his dad's.

"Are you happy?" He asks quietly

"Yes, I am. Kook, I'm always happy when I'm with you and Junghee"

Jungkook rubs your cheek with his thumb. The softness of his gesture makes you hum and you grab his hand to kiss it.

"I won't ever love someone more than you. You and Junghee will always mean everything to me" He confesses

"You're not really a good boyfriend" You joke, referring to Harin who obviously doesn't have a lot of room in Jungkook's life

"I'm not" Jungkook agrees with a sigh "I'm too busy being a dad and your best friend. And before you argue, I don't want to change that"

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

The next day, you go to Haeundae Beach with Jungkook and Junghee. As you has anticipated, you're not the only one who wanted to enjoy the ocean on this hot weather. The beach is full of families, groups of friends or couples and your little family blends perfectly in the landscape. Your son has his bunny smile on his chubby face, which makes him so damn cute. Jungkook settles your beach towels and parasol while you're applying sunscreen on Junghee. It doesn't take long for him to beg Jungkook for a swim. You watch in awe your two men walking hand in hand towards the water. Your son looks so small next to Jungkook's muscular body. However, you grow a little bitter when you notice some women looking at them too. You know damn well how hot your best friend is, especially at the beach where his brawny chest is at full display along with his sexy tattooed arm. But it makes you uneasy when women try to flirt with him in front of you.

It's a weird feeling. You're jealous but an odd type of jealous. Jungkook is your best friend, but also the father of your son. When you think about him having another child with someone else, it really bothers you. However, you're not fool enough to deny the possibility of it. And you have no doubt that Jungkook will always be there for Junghee but you can't help wondering 'what about me?'. Things won't be the same if he gets married or has a child. You love your little family and, as selfish as it might be, you don't want it to change, even if you won't ever admit it out loud...

You sigh and decide to occupy your brain by applying sunscreen on your own body this time. When you look up, you see two black-haired boys close to the shore, building sandcastles. A tender smile appears naturally and grows wider when your son lifts up his head and waves at you. You wave back and pull out your phone to snap a photo. Jungkook notices it and waves at you too.

"Isn't mama so pretty?" He asks his son and Junghee vigorously nods

"I love mama"

"I love mama too" Jungkook chuckles before bringing his attention back to his sand creation

Your smile disappears in no time when a — you hate to say it — hot woman approaches Jungkook and Junghee. An unpleasant, yet familiar feeling fills up your chest: possessiveness. If you didn't have to take care of your belongings, you would already be running towards them. You watch the woman shamelessly flirting with your best friend in front of your son! You scoff and roll your eyes.

Jungkook, on the other hand, tries to be polite but he doesn't really acknowledge the stranger's beauty. For him, no one can compare to you. So he says a few words but his tone makes it clear that he is not interested. However, the young woman doesn't seem to get the message so Jungkook, not so subtly, mentions you as his wife. God, he wishes he'd kept his ring... To hide the fact, he carefully keeps his left hand buried in the wet sand. Thankfully, the woman decides to leave and Jungkook releases a relieved sigh. Junghee is cheerfully clapping at his castle and Jungkook smiles at him with tender eyes. His son is growing up so fast. Maybe he should have another baby, just like he teased you on Junghee's birthday.

"I want to drink apple juice" Junghee states with a confident voice, just like if he has make a life-changing decision

He doesn't wait for any respond and runs to you. You giggle at your son clumsily heading in your direction. He jumps on you, almost kicking the air out of your lungs: he is getting a little too big to jump on you without hurting you but you can't care because the gesture is just full of love. Even more when he pecks your cheek. Jungkook loves witnessing these scenes. He joins you and grabs a brick of juice for your son before settling down on his own towel.

"I'll go for a swim" You notify them

As you're mindlessly walking to the ocean, Jungkook's fists clench a little when he sees some men eyeing at your perfect ass. Fuck, he knows how hot you are but he doesn't like the way strangers are looking at you. How ironic that he is in the same place you were a few minutes ago. He strategically lays on his stomach to hide his boner. You look good in your navy bikini. Your bare thighs look inviting and your swinging butt is to die for. He quite praises himself for your full breasts because you took an extra bra cup after your son's birth. Your whole body looks delicious with sexy curves. The thought of you being his baby mama clearly makes him horny. He loves being the one who got you pregnant — geez, him and his fucking weird kinks when it comes to you... Jungkook wishes he could mark your bare skin to keep men away but he knows he can't.

"Daddy, what does 'slutty' mean?" Junghee asks with his big innocent eyes

Your best friend almost chokes on his spit. What the hell?!

"Where did you hear that?" He tries to shirk

"The man next to us said that mama was slutty" Your son explains, unaware of the anger building in his dad

"Which one?" He asks with gritted teeth

Junghee points with his little finger a man, probably about the same age as Jungkook, hanging out with his friends, a beer in his hand. Jungkook pokes his tongue on his cheek before standing up and asking his son to stay here.

"Having fun?" Jungkook asks with a harsh tone that matches his dark eyes

The group of men lifts up their heads, quite surprised.

"Yeah, it's a nice day" The little fucker who called you 'slutty' answers with a proud smirk

"Checking out hot chicks?" Jungkook hoaxes

"Yeah, why?" The same one replies, growing frustrated

"You see the one with the navy swimsuit over there?" Jungkook points towards you with a head motion but doesn't wait for any respond "That's my wife. If you call her slutty again or anything at all, I can guarantee that you'll not have fun anymore. You don't talk about her, you don't even look at her, is that clear?" He adds with a threatening tone, trying not to think about the fact that he has lied twice today by calling you his wife — in his defense, you actually were not so long ago

If the other men nod, the one who seems to be dumb has a big ego. He is not going to let someone speak to him like that. He stands up and gives a harsh eye to Jungkook.

"What can I say? Your wife is slutty" He snaps back with a smirk, full of provocation

Well, the provocation doesn't set well with Jungkook since his fist meets the man's face in no time. However, the stranger fights back and the mess going around catches people's attention. On your way back, you see some people looking and gasping at something. You step closer and gasp when you see your best friend, panting, with bruised knuckles and death stare. He looks down at a man with a bloody face laying on the floor and growling of pain.

You quickly check on your son before joining your baby daddy.

"You need to stop, you could lose your boxing licence" You whisper in his ear

Jungkook is looking at you and it takes him a few seconds to get rid off his harsh dark eyes as the anger slowly decreases. He nods and steps back, not without wrapping an arm around your waist in a protective and possessive manner. Jungkook is angry and maybe he is afraid of loosing you in someway so he needs to feel you close to him. You grab an ice block from your cooler and pull it on Jungkook's hand.

"What happened?" You ask

You see Jungkook avoiding your eyes and you frown.

"The man called you slutty, but I don't know what it means" Your son answers

Your mouth snaps open out of shock. Did Jungkook punch a guy for your honor? You don't know if you want to yell at him or to hug him.

"Kook! You shouldn't have said anything!" You scold him

"I can't do that!" Jungkook defends himself "I can't stay here when someone is disrespecting you. Wouldn't you do the same if you were in my shoes?"

You look into his doe eyes and you find nothing to reply because it's true: you would react if someone said horrible things about your best friend.

"No more fighting, please. I don't want you to get hurt" You end up saying

"He didn't punch me" Your best friend replies with a stupid cocky grin and you slap his shoulder

"Daddy is like superman!" Junghee shouts, which makes you sigh

Now, you'll have to explain to your three-year son that he cannot beat people like his dad.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

In front of his parents' house, Jungkook kneels in front of his son who is looking at him with a question mark in his big doe eyes.

"Look, buddy, how about you keep secret about what happened at the beach? I don't want grandpa and grandma Jeon to worry" He says, embarrassed

You can only smile at this big and strong man being afraid to get scolded by his parents. But you understand. Jungkook's parents are not big fan of their son's job and being a mother yourself, you perfectly get how worry it makes them. You often wonder if Junghee will want to fight for a living and the thought of him getting hurt squeezes your heart in a painful way.

"Okay!" Your son replies, not really understanding why his dad doesn't want to say he is a hero "Pinky promise!"

"Pinky promise" Your best friend repeats with a sweet voice, wrapping his finger around Junghee's tiny one

As you are applying a thin layer of mascara to get ready for diner in the backyard of Jungkook's parents, your best friend enters his childhood bedroom. You're surprised to see him wearing a black shirt, looking well dressed up for a casual diner at home.

"Going somewhere?" You ask with a lifted eyebrow

"Indeed, with you" He answers with a playful grin "It's been a long time since we've spent time together, I mean just you and me. So, I asked my parents to watch out for Junghee and I booked at table for us" Jungkook proudly announces

You are amazed by the place your best friend has chosen. It's fancy yet cozy but above all, you really appreciate spending time with him. You've missed those moments with your best friend. You sip on your wine while chatting with Jungkook. As usual, the talk goes smoothly and it seems like you never run out of topics. However, Jungkook's next line makes you freeze.

"I would like another baby"

You gulp with difficulty. You didn't know that Harin and him were already at this stage. A weight is crushing on your chest and it's hard to pretend like you're not broken at the idea. Yes, you're happy for your best friend and you know he'll be a great dad for this second child but like you explained, things won't be the same between the two of you. You'll need time to get at the idea.

"Oh" Is all you manage to respond

You don't even know what to say to him.

"I know it's quite sudden but Junghee is already three and this afternoon he asked me about a sibling... I don't think it's completely unimaginable" Jungkook explains

He is looking into your eyes to get an hint of your thoughts but you can't understand them yourself.

"So, what do you think?" He asks, stress making his heart beating fast in his chest

"I-I think it's great" You lie with a chocked throat that spurs you to finish your glass "It'll definitely take your relationship with Harin on another level"

Jungkook frowns immediately.

"No, I meant having another baby together, Y/N" He clarifies, gesturing between you and him

"Oh!" You say, once again, surprise more than noticeable on your features

"I already told you, I can't imagine having a family with someone other than you"

Your cheeks take a light pinkish color and you bite your lower lip. You also have thought about having another baby recently. And you can't imagine someone other than Jungkook for the father but what about your friendship? Being a mom is the most beautiful gift in the world for you and to be honest, you miss being pregnant. You miss feeling your baby moving in your belly. You miss feeling Jungkook inside y— Wait, what? No, you don't! You shake your head to get rid off this ridiculous thought.

"I think I need time to think about it" You whisper, eyes down in shame of your filthy ideas

"Sure, take your time. Don't pressure yourself, it's okay if you don't want to, I won't be less happy with Junghee and you" Jungkook reassures you, grabbing your hand

You are still a little bit lost when Jungkook parks his car in his parents' garage. You wonder how your life would be if you decide to have a new little member in your family. You'd surely be beyond happy but how would be things with Jungkook? You had the feeling that your relationship was a little confusing when you were married and when you decided to have Junghee in someway. Now, you're divorced, parents but still best friends. Things got back to normal. Having another child might rattle everything...

If you stopped lying to yourself for one second, you'll admit that it's not having another baby that scares you. It's being intimate with Jungkook again. He is so perfect, so caring. It's quite hard to not fall for him. So far, you manage to avoid it by clearly delimited your relationship as friends. Things almost got out of control when you conceived Junghee and you can't deny that your heart was doing some weird tricks in your chest for a few months — which you easily convinced yourself that it was the hormones talking. But now, there is no hormones and your heart does it again...

"Hey, are you okay?" Jungkook softly asks you, cupping your face with one of his big and warm palm "You've been quiet all along"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I guess I was just deep in thoughts" You confess in a whisper

"Like I said, don't pressure yourself. It was just an idea" Your best friend reassures you

God, he looks so handsome right now in the dimmed light, the room only lightens by the pale moon coming from the window. He looks unreal. His eyes are as shiny as ever, his cute bubble nose makes you smile and his lips... You should stop looking at them. It's bad. It's really bad. Jungkook is your best friend, he has a girlfriend and you have Yoongi — even though your relationship is quite undetermined — and most of all, he is Junghee's father! Only bad things would follow if you let your desires control you.

Wait a minute.

What desires? You don't have desire for Jungkook! You don't! Impossible. That's completely ridiculous and crazy and impossible. Not to mention impossible. Have you already say impossible? Because it is impossible for god's sake.

So why are you scooting closer to him and kiss him? Your brain is not responding to any of your pleas and your lips press deeper against Jungkook's ones. It gets even crazier when he kisses you back! What in the world is happening? You can't really think about it because it feels too good.

The kiss is passionate, your hands making a mess in Jungkook's black hair and his tongue is entering your mouth. Your moans are swallowed by him and your panties get soaked. It's the first time you two share such an amazing kiss. The most amazing kiss ever.

You clumsily reach his seat to sit on his lap. The lack of room makes the position quite awkward and you have no choice but to press your boobs against his firm chest. Your hands caress his biceps through the fabric of his shirt and your pussy clenches around nothing when you feel his muscles flexing underneath your touch. Jungkook's hands don't stay steady either: one goes up to grab your hair and pushes you deeper against his lips while the other one squeezes your ass through your dress.

When he leaves your swollen lips to drift away to your throat, your hips start to grin on his crotch and you can feel his boner despite the layers of clothing. Your moans intensify and you have to secure your arm around Jungkook's head not to fall into the abyss of pleasure. The friction applied on your covered clit is great but you need more. A sneaky hand finds its way between your bodies and starts unzipping his jeans. You whimper when you feel your best friend hard in his underwear. You caress him as well as you can despite the uneasy position and Jungkook lifts up your dress to get access at your bare ass skin. He growls when he roughly grabs your juicy flesh, sending a wave of arousal to your already wet cunt.

You finally free him from his briefs and manage to push aside your soaked panties. You grab his thick length at the base and impaled yourself on his cock. Your wetness and his pre cum make it easy to enter, even with your tightness. You hide your face on his neck to mutter your loud moans caused by the stretching. Fuck, he is big. Especially since you haven't had sex for years! But you're too high on arousal to care about the slight pain and start riding him like a freak. Maybe the man from the beach was right, you are slutty with Jungkook right now. You don't even recognize yourself. It's even the first time you fuck somewhere other than a bed!

Jungkook helps you by placing his hands under your ass. The whole car is filled with moans from both sides. You kiss Jungkook's throat messily, leaving wet stains of saliva on his thin skin. He runs one of his hands up and settles it in the back of your neck to make you take him deeper and harder. He is so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. Animalistic growls escape his lips and he urges you to kiss him again. Your groans mix with your tongues and salivas in a real messy and sloppy kiss.

You can feel your orgasm building up in you despite the aching feeling growing in your legs. You're out of breathe but you don't seem to be able to stop. You're completely controlled by your arousal and you wish you could fuck him all night. The way you're riding Jungkook's big cock tells enough about your desires. Your walls clench, making his dick throb inside you and you know that you are both close. A few more jumps are enough to feel his cum shots painting your walls, sending you on the edge too. His seeds mix with your juices, creating a pool of arousal between your legs.

You're both panting and you rest your sticky forehead against Jungkook's one. He is keeping you tight in his arms, gently caressing your back. You are slowly coming down from your high and your eyes snap open. What have you done?! You fucked Jungkook, your best friend! You have risked years of friendship for a quickie in his fucking car! While your son and his parents are sleeping in this very same house. Panic fills your body and you gasp at the realization.

You jump out of the car, only pulling down your dress to cover the mess between your legs and run in shame. You lock yourself in the bathroom, unable to think straight. All you can do is crying for hours, despite Jungkook gently knocking on the door and asking you to open the door — which you never do.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

You ended up discreetly sneaking into Jungkook's bedroom late in the night, praying for him to be asleep or at least pretend to be. You didn't sleep at all and by the absence of light snoring, you know that Jungkook didn't either. You don't really know what to say to him despite you're sorry: for having sex with him and for running away right after it. If the shoe was on the other foot, you know how hurt you would be. But you're ashamed and embarrassed to face him just yet...

If Junghee is way too young to get the tensed air between his mom and dad, Jungkook's parents can clearly feel it. And it does nothing to ease you. You try to focus on your son during breakfast, doing everything you can to avoid Jungkook's eyes that you easily imagine on you. At some point, your best friend grows sick of it, sighs loudly and grabs his plate to escape the room. When his mom joins him in the kitchen, she can't hold her worry and questions her son.

"I told Y/N I wanted another child" Jungkook confesses with a low voice and a defeated look

His mom is not as surprised as he thought she would be.

"How did she react?" She asks with a comforting hand on her son's large shoulder

"She said that she needed to think about it. I mean, I understand but just look at Junghee. We have been so happy since he was born, I don't think another child would fuck things up between us" Jungkook growls in frustration, running his tattooed hand in his hair

His mother doesn't scolds him on his bad language and rather asks:

"Is that why things are tensed this morning?"

"Maybe. Actually... Something happened" Jungkook winces, embarrassed to talk about his sexual life with his mom "I didn't see the problem before Y/N ran away. And now she doesn't even look at me! I don't know what to do"

"Do you regret it?"

Your best friend takes a few seconds to think. Does he? Maybe he wishes that your second time together were in a more romantic atmosphere but he doesn't regret one bit. He missed your touch, he missed your body. He missed feeling physically connected to you. Sex with you is so different, way more powerful and emotional because he cares about you. He fucking loves you. And honestly, it breaks his heart that you shut him down after sharing a bed — or his car seat to be precise.

"No. I mean, I wanted to but I don't want to hurt her, you know?" Jungkook replies with blushed cheeks

"Y/N has always had a special place in your life, Jungkook. You've known each other for a long time. Maybe the idea of things changing between you scares her. But never doubt her love for you. She deeply cares about you and you'll always be the father of her child. I know you'll figure things out" His mom reassures him with a tender smile but a hint of worry in her eyes

A little knock on the kitchen door drives Mrs. Jeon's and Jungkook's eyes on you. Your red cheeks clearly notify how embarrassed you are. Even quite mad — against you or him or anything else because he can't quite decide —, your best friend finds you cute.

"Can I talk to you?" You shyly ask him and he nods before leading you to his bedroom for privacy

Your eye is everywhere except on him as you gather your courage to speak.

"I'm so sorry, Kook" You apologize

"For what?" His voice is a little bit cold but you can't resent him

"For everything?" You try and sigh "I think I was a little overwhelmed about what happened but I want you to know that you didn't do anything wrong, it was entirely my fault"

Your eyes water and your chin is shaking in a dangerous way. Despite his frustration, Jungkook pulls you into a hug.

"I get it. Please, don't cry. Let's put that aside for now, okay? We can talk about it when you're ready" Jungkook comforts you, pecking the top of your head

Fuck, why does your best friend have to be this great? He should be mad. You would in his shoes. But he is comforting you instead! And it makes you feel even worst. You keep repeating that you're sorry while you're crying in his arms.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

It has been one week since your trip to Busan and things have been back to normal. In appearance only but your mind is a real mess. You blush every time your best friend gets close to you and your heart beats heretically whenever he touches you. You feel like you're going insane. You need you convince yourself that you don't love Jungkook and that it's just a side effect of your roll in the hay.

That's why you've called your mom to babysit Junghee and went on a date with Yoongi. After all, he is a fine man and he is available. You feel terrible when you think about Harin and you still don't know how you'll be able to look at her in the eyes... The thought makes you stress. You try not to think about it and concentrate on the movie you're watching with Yoongi.

Why don't you feel any butterfly anymore when he grabs your hand? It's not good for you or your heart. Yoongi is really great so why don't you love him? You kind of like him and you find him attractive but he doesn't fill your mind like Jungkook does. And it's not fair for Yoongi. He deserves to be someone's first choice, not some consolation.

At the end of the movie, you tell the truth to Yoongi and you hope not to hurt him too much. He tells you that he understands and that he is a little bit sad because you're a great woman — which makes you feel worst. You feel nothing like a great person lately, quite the opposite actually.

In another part of Seoul, Harin has brought the marriage topic on the table. Again. Maybe she feels threatened after the weekend you've spent together. And Jungkook doesn't know how to escape it because he really doesn't want to marry Harin. Or any other woman but you.

"I think it could be great to be a real family, you and me and our babies" Harin states, a dreamy smile on her face

"Sorry to remind you but I have a family" Jungkook replies with irritation in his voice

"Yeah, yeah, I know that Junghee will always be part of your life but he'll get along with our children. Oh, and for the wedding, I was thinking about..."

Harin explains her theme and everything she wants to have for her big day but Jungkook stops listening. His mind drives him back to you. He remembers your wedding and how simple and perfect it was. Full of authenticity. It was a perfect day. His second best day after Junghee's birth. Which leads him to remember it. How scared he was for you but also how impressed he was. How you grabbed and firmly squeezed his hand until hurting him — not that he cared anyway — when you were pushing. How he encouraged you and told how amazing you were. He remembers your tired yet wide smile when you held your son for the first time. He remembers how he felt when he held Junghee for the first time. His body was so small he was afraid to break it. And he remembers the promise he made to himself that day: to always protect you and your son and to love you even after his last breathe. Nothing could be stronger than the bound you share. Maybe it's cruel but Harin would never compete against you. There is no choice to make because you are the only one for him.

But judging how panicked you reacted one week ago, Jungkook doesn't think he is even an option for you. So he lets his girlfriend blather on her fantasies of wedding and children.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

Jungkook is picking up Junghee at the kindergarten because you have a meeting for your job. While he is happy to spend time with his son, your best friend's body tenses a little when he spots Yoongi in the crowd. Should he greet him? It's so awkward because Jungkook fucked you while you are in some kind of relationship with the man. Did you tell him? Did you see him after that? Did you sleep with him? Gosh, he hopes not... He would rather get punched for having sex with you than having his heart broken for you having sex with someone else. He can't help but feel hypocrite when he had sex with Harin this week even though he didn't really want to. What reassures him a little is that he always wears condoms.

Wait a minute.

He hasn't with you. Do you take the pill? He is pretty sure you don't. Oh god, the whole situation is getting out of control. Yes, he wants a baby with you but he doesn't want to trap you into the situation. Anxiety is eating him alive and he doesn't even see Yoongi approaching until he is right in front of him.

"Hi" The man greets him

"Hi, how are you?" Jungkook tries to hide his panic and his guilt behind a smile

"Fine" Yoongi lies, his heart is still a little broken but he doesn't resent you — you can't control your feelings and he knows it damn well "Seung's birthday is next weekend and I'm checking on the parents to see who'll come at the party. Can I count Junghee in?"

"Sure, he'll be more than happy" Jungkook releases a sigh, glad that he won't be punched after all

A little boy with black hair and a bunny smile runs to him, waiting for his dad to hold him in his arms. Jungkook's heart melts at his son and he can't help but wonder if Junghee will soon have a little sister or brother. He tries not to think too much about it and walks to his car.

The drive to his boxing school doesn't take long and he mentally thanks you for that: you have insisted for him to choose a building in a district close to all kinds of educative establishments, mainly because it'd be great for his business, but also because it'd be handier when he would be a dad.

Junghee is always excited to see his dad boxing. He loves imitating him, throwing his little fists in the air. Your best friend has started giving him lessons and he loves the fact that he can deepen his relationship with his child this way. He also hopes that his son will be able to defend himself if he gets in trouble or defend you because you're way too stubborn to listen to Jungkook and take boxing lessons... On the other hand, he pretty likes being the one to save you.

Jungkook is kneeled down in front of Junghee and keeps his palms up so your son can punch them. Jungkook can't help a chuckle at the cute pout adoring the toddler's focused face. His son smiles proudly whenever Jungkook praises him. Your best friend has no doubt that you would look at them with awe eyes if you were there.

However, the little lesson has to end when some students enter for their class. It's not the first time Junghee sees them but he grows shy and hides behind his father's leg. Surely, the little group of teenagers impresses him. Your best friend smiles tenderly at Junghee and rubs his tattooed hand into the sleek hair of his child to soothe him. He tells him to sit on the bench and grabs an apple juice for him before heading to his students and giving instructions.

You rush out of the building to take your son home. You gasp when you see some teenage boys punching each others on the ring. You don't like Junghee to see violence. You know that Jungkook couldn't do otherwise but it doesn't please you. Definitely, you had a long day... You're sure Junghee will have nightmares tonight.

"Hey, can I talk to you?" Jungkook asks when he spots you

You nod, quite surprised by his embarrassment and follow him to his office. You frown when he closes the door. What's so serious?

"I need to ask you something'"Jungkook looks down a moment before returning his eyes into yours "Are you on the pill?"

Your eyes widen. You really didn't expect this question. And it's another reminder of how stupid it was to fuck your best friend.

"I am" You answer

Now, it's Jungkook's turn to be surprised. He thought you weren't. You always told him that you didn't want to intoxicated your body with unnecessary doses of hormones if you're not in a relationship. Does that mean that Yoongi and you have turned a corner? His heart is squeezing painfully in his chest.

"Oh, okay then, I was worried about nothing" Your best friend says, his hand messing his hair up

"About that..." You start, embarrassed too "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about what happened" Jungkook opens his mouth to argue but you stop him "I shouldn't have reacted like that, especially when I'm the one who initiated things. I feel terrible towards you and towards Harin. I really hope that I didn't make things tensed between you" The idea of it makes you wince and you hide your face in your hands "God, I'm such a horrible person"

"Hey, don't say that" Jungkook grabs your hands to look at your face with affection in his doe eyes "I could have stopped you and I didn't because I wanted it too. Please, don't blame yourself. To be honest, I liked it"

Jungkook's words make you blush and you look away to prevent yourself from jumping on him once again. Your best friend pulls you to his side to hug you before letting you go. Jungkook kisses Junghee's chubby cheek to tell him goodbye and you grab you son in your arms to bring him home.

In his bed, after you've read him a book, your son surprises you. Or more like breaks your heart.

"What?" You say because maybe you haven't heard well and gosh, you wish you haven't

"Daddy and Harin are getting married" He repeats

All blood leaves your face and you feel like your heart has stopped.

"Why do you say that?" You ask with a white voice

"Harin told me"

You might be completely broken at the news but you need to know how your son feels like because it's the most important thing for you.

"What do you feel about it?"

"I'm okay. I like Harin, she makes good pancakes" Junghee replies innocently

You nod and kiss his forehead before escaping his room to cry in your bed. You made Jungkook cheat on his future wife! You're so horrible! Worst, your heart is broken while you should be happy for your best friend. Why didn't Jungkook tell you? Is it because you had sex? You knew that you've fucked things up! Now your best friend isn't confiding to you anymore, even for something as important as a fucking wedding! You feel bad. Terrible. You're the one who provoked what you absolutely wanted to avoid: things has changed between Jungkook and you.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

Junghee is playing with the new toys his grandparents gave him in Busan. You look at him with a distracted look because your attention is set on the news channel. It's not the first time Seoul has to go through a typhoon, however, you're a little worried because the TV keeps repeating that this one is especially violent. You try to keep calm for Junghee but the dark sky and the pouring rain don't help. It's the first time you have to face such a weather condition without Jungkook. You mentally note the advises the anchors give: preparing some candles or flashlights in case of blackout, making sure to stay away from the windows and closing the blinds if possible. You sigh and join your son, innocent as usual, only caring about the little imaginary world he has created in his mind. It helps to soothe you, even though you wonder if your best friend is okay.

"Where are you going?" Harin asks with an irritated tone when she witnesses Jungkook grabbing his car key

Jungkook stops his movements and looks at his girlfriend like it was evident. They have just listened to the same news as you and Jungkook immediately reached the entry of his apartment — where Harin seems to spend more and more time each day.

"I'm worried about Junghee and Y/N" He explains

"They're fine!" Harin scoffs "And look outside, it's pouring! You can't go out"

Jungkook is growing frustrated. He is worried, he doesn't want to leave you two alone. His heart is beating so fast in his chest because of the stress. His whole body is begging him to go and make sure you're safe. Why can't Harin understand that? You're his family! Anger is starting to build inside him and he can't help but yelling at Harin because she has been acting like a crazy woman lately and Jungkook is sick of it.

"I can't leave my kid and my wife alone!"

"Your wife?!" Harin snaps "Really Jungkook?" Her voice is nothing sweet and it's full of grudge

"You know what I mean" Jungkook replies with a roll of eyes

"No, I don't actually. You are not married! And I am your girlfriend" Harin reminds him

It's true. Jungkook knows it. But he can't help feeling upset at that thought. He is still seeing himself as your husband, maybe because for him it's complicated to separate that from being Junghee's father. His instinct is always to protect you and your toddler. When he pictures his family, it's you, Junghee and him. Harin is never in the picture to be honest. What he wants is to be with you. Right now, he can't even remember why he agreed to sign those stupid divorce papers.

"I need to go" Jungkook settles to say, his voice a little softer than before

"If you pass that door, it's over" Harin says with confidence, her arms crossed on her chest

Your best friend has never liked ultimatums and this one is by far the worst. He scoffs before opening the door and leaving. He doesn't even give a last look to Harin.

The rain might be pouring, the wind might be going wild, nothing could prevent Jungkook from reaching you. Actually, the hostile weather convinces him that being with you was the right decision. He just can't imagine not being there for you while he knows that you are worried and alone with your son. He is not scared about the road but about leaving you alone. It's all he can think about while driving toward you and Junghee.

The door opening makes you jolt. The familiar face with soaked, dark hair appearing provokes a weird trick in your chest.

"Kook?" The surprise is evident on your face and in your voice but everything disappears when your best friend gives you the most tender smile ever "What are you doing here? Are you crazy? You could have had an accident!" You scold him even though you're so glad he is here

"I was worried about you" Jungkook simply replies

Your mouth mimics a silent 'Thank you' and Jungkook joins Junghee at the coffee table. Your son has given up his toys to get down on one of his favorite hobbies: drawing. He chuckles when he spots his dad and almost immediately tries to climb on him. It doesn't take long for him to use his pens on Jungkook's tattooed sleeves. From time to time, Junghee nods proudly at his art piece, filling with color some patterns of the tattoos or adding completely new drawings.

"I want to have drawings on my arm like daddy" Your son suddenly states

"Wow, not until eighteen, right mama?" Jungkook laughs, imagining his three-year old toddler with tattoos

"You mean not until at least forty" You correct him, half-joking half-panicking at your little boy covered in ink

Junghee pouts but focuses again on his pens. You and Jungkook are looking at him with love eyes. He is so cute! His doe eyes are wide open and his little mouth is slightly open. You love how immersed he gets when he is doing something. He doesn't care one bit about the weather raging outside, he is in his little bubble and he has trapped your best friend and you in it.

"Mama, come help me"

You chuckle and grab a pen yourself. You scoot closer to Jungkook, feeling the warmth of his body. While Junghee is sitting on Jungkook's lap, you're against your best friend's side. One hand rests on his shoulder to stay steady while you're drawing a little flower on his hand. Jungkook hums at your touch. It feels good. The simple moment with his son and you fills up his chest with joy, he feels like he is the happiest and luckiest man on Earth. He can't help himself and grabs your small hand in his, not caring about the pen between your fingers. You lift up your head in surprise, trying to understand why he has done that but you find yourself unable to say anything.

Jungkook's handsomeness and closeness just cut your breathe. He is so pretty and the way is looking at you, like you're the most precious thing in his life, is destabilizing. You're two seconds away from kissing his pulp lips that attract you. Thankfully, you get back to your senses, shake your head and remove your hand from his grip.

"I, uhm, I'll go take some milk for Junghee" You stutter, cheeks completely blushed

You escape as fast as you can and welcome the cold air coming from the fridge on your burning face. You need to focus. You need to stop thinking about your best friend this way. You hate how hot, handsome and caring he is right now. Last time you did something stupid, you almost ended up pregnant and destroy Jungkook's future wedding. You have to stop! You need to keep your distance with Jungkook. He is only here for Junghee.

Your baby had hidden in Jungkook's arms when the typhoon was at its climax. Thankfully, your building was far enough not to suffer from big damages and the city went back to normal only a few hours later. All the emotions of the day pushed your son in a sound sleep. You watch in awe your best friend putting Junghee in his bed. You close the door as softly as you can and you face an embarrassing silence between Jungkook and you.

"So, what's the date?" You ask after clearing your throat

You hope that bringing the wedding topic with a light tone will spur Jungkook to see that you are still his confidant. You don't want to let the incident in his car ruining your friendship. In fact, things have to be even smoother than before if you want your growing family to work.

However, Jungkook is frowning and looking at you with a confused face.

"The date for what?"

"Kook" You sigh, a little hurt that he doesn't trust you "You can tell me, it's okay. Actually, I would have rather liked hearing it from you and from our three-year old son. But I get it, things have been... strange lately. Nevertheless, I want you to know that I am sincerely happy for you and Harin" You manage to give him a small smile

"I'm sorry but I really don't know what you are talking about" Jungkook replies, working his brain out to get a clue

"Your wedding, Jungkook!" You clarify, frustration noticeable in your voice

"My what?!" Your best friend shouts, completely taken aback

"Did you think that I wouldn't know?" You ask, trying to make sense of his genuine incredulity

"Y/N, I am not getting married! Don't you think that I would tell you? Where did you get that idea?"

It's your turn to frown. What's going on?

"Junghee told me that you were getting married... Maybe he didn't get it right?"

"I've never told him anything like that, like never. I don't want to marry Harin for fuck's sake" Jungkook says

You purse your lips because what you are thinking about is way too crazy to be the truth. Did Harin lie to your son? Why? That's just horrible! It can't be...

"What?" Jungkook spurs you to speak up "What did you think about? And don't lie, I know that face"

"I don't want to create problems" You finally decide to say "Maybe... maybe you should talk to Harin and clarify the situation because I think it's just a big misunderstanding"

Jungkook is feeling his anger growing inside his bones. What did Harin do? After promising he'll be back soon, he drives back to his apartment. His fists are so tightly clenched around his wheel that his knuckles are white. He wants some explanations now. Did she dare messing up with his family? With his son? With you? Jungkook is fucking pissed. He storms in and hardly contains his wrath.

"What did you say to Junghee?"

His angry tone makes Harin jolt. Her eyes widen in fear because she has never seen him this angry.

"I-I don't know what you are talking about..." She lies

"Speak now!" Jungkook shouts, his eyes even darker than usual

"I, uhm, told him that we were talking about marriage?" She tries with a small voice and Jungkook almost looses it

"You were talking about marriage!" He rectifies "Do you have any idea of what you've done?! Are you fucking insane? He is my son! You can't tell him something like that! Don't come near me or my family ever again. Now, get the fuck out!"

Witnessing Jungkook's fury, Harin doesn't argue and leaves as fast as she can. Jungkook needs a couple of minutes to calm down. He needs to let go of his anger and there is no better way than boxing for him. For the third time of the day, he steps in his car to head to his boxing school. He doesn't even know how many hours he hits the punching bag. He can't believe that Harin almost destroyed his relationship with his son and with you! He can't imagine what was in your pretty head when you thought he was getting married while he told you hundred of times that you were the only one for him. He makes a pact with himself: he will put a ring on your and his fingers so no one will ever make you feel like you're not the love of his life.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

It's already three am and you still haven't heard about Jungkook. You're way too worried to sleep and you're walking back and forth in your living room. You've tried to call him but gained no response. He told you he would be back but he hasn't. And he left pretty pissed off. Furious, actually. You're scared something has happened to him. Did he get into a fight with Harin? Did they make up? Did he have an accident? There are so many different scenarios possible and you don't know which one is the truth. If you didn't have to watch Junghee, you would already be in your car, looking all around Seoul for him.

When you're about to officially lose your sanity, the door opens. You run to Jungkook and hug him out of relief. Thank god, he is okay. You step back just enough to look at him: he is sweaty and tired and his clenched jaws are a clear sign of how tensed he is.

"I was so worried" You whisper, not to wake up your son "Is everything okay? Did you talk to Harin?"

Your best friend scoffs at the name. He still feels angry but less since you've hugged him. Your touch has always had some kind of magical power when it comes to soothe him.

"She told Junghee that we were getting married. I can't believe she lied to our son. You don't know how mad I am right now. I ended things with her"

You nod, trying to integrate the news. Despite being completely taken aback by Harin's actions, you feel terrible to have doubted Jungkook. He is your best friend, your baby daddy, the man you trust the most in the entire world. You should have known that he would never hide something this huge.

"I'm sorry" You tell him because they really are the words that sum up pretty much everything you want to say

"Don't be. I'm not sad because of her. But I am sad because I feel like I almost lost you" He explains with sincerity and it breaks your heart

"Kook, you will never lose me" You put a delicate hand on his jaw "I love you so much, you have no idea. I'll always be there for you. You're an amazing man. An amazing dad and the best best friend ever and I don't think you know it"

Emotion fills the air between you two. Jungkook's heart melts at your words and you can see it in his eyes becoming tenderer. He deserves the whole world. And suddenly, an idea comes to your mind and your look changes. Jungkook must misinterpret it because there is no way you're looking at him with lust right now. It must be the fatigue from his boxing.

His heart stops and he gulps loudly when he watches you kneeling down. He wishes his dick wasn't hardening by seeing you down in front of him and lifting up your pretty face to look into his eyes. The sight is sinful and he can't let his fantasies controlling him because he would do unspeakable things to your mouth. However, he doesn't have time to question you that your hands are already working on his sweatpants to take it down. You caress him through the fabric of his briefs and it makes his cock almost completely hard in no time.

"Y/N" He whispers with a chocked and raspy voice "What are you doing?"

"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me. Don't you want it?"

The innocence and insecurity in your voice mixed with the way your eyes seem bigger when you look up at him prevent him from thinking straight. He can only nod, waiting for your next move. A wave of arousal goes straight between your legs when you grab the hem of his underwear and push it down, freeing his hard cock. Your mouth waters at the sight and you realize that it's the first time you get to really admire his dick. It's thick and big and you know how much pleasure it brings. But you are a little worried at the size of it and you wonder if you'll be able to take him entirely in your mouth.

The drop of pre cum escaping his tip is way too tempting so you poke your tongue out to lick it. Both Jungkook and you moan. He tastes sweet and you want more. You rest your hand at his base while you start kissing and taking fat laps of his head. Jungkook can't take his eyes off of you because it's too good to be real. Your lips are soft against his velvet skin and the wet strains you leave with your mouth and tongue are driving him insane. He has to control himself not to fuck your throat like a maniac.

When his tip is glistening with a mix of your saliva and his pre cum, you open your mouth wide, stick your tongue out and take him in. It feels good to have Jungkook's cock filling your mouth. You have never been fond of blowjobs and yet, sucking your best friend's dick arouses you more than you want to admit. The sweet moans and growls from Jungkook spur you to fasten your pace. You take him quicker and deeper each time, creating some sloppy and sinful sounds. Your tongue caresses his vein and the sweet spot connecting his tip to his length. Your hand frees his base and heads south to cup his balls while you push deeper, making you gag when his tip hits the back of your throat.

"Oh fuck" Jungkook moans in pure ecstasy "Your mouth is so fucking good"

His praise makes you proud and you want to give him even more pleasure. Your free hand that was resting on his hip grabs his to put it in your hair. You look at him through your wet lashes and Jungkook gets the message. You're so perfect, he thinks while he intertwine his fingers with your strands. You open your mouth a little wider and lets him settle the pace and the deepness of his thrusts. You can't help a few tears when he deep-throats you but you actually love chocking on his cock. The wetness of your pussy is a clear sign of it.

"Fuck, baby" He hisses when he pushes deep and rests a little to feel your throat contracting around his dick

He pulls out to let you breathe and enjoys the line of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his member. You're so fucking hot like that. He wishes he could take a picture of you right now to keep the memory because he knows it's a once in a lifetime thing.

"Cum in my mouth" You tell him with a oh-so-sweet voice and he can't believe it's true

He rubs his soaked tip against the pillow of your lips, making a glistening mess that turns him on so bad and pushes his cock right back in. Your hand is deliciously cupping his heavy balls and Jungkook growls while throwing his head back with delight. Feeling your wet and warm mouth around him is really, really good. He fucks your mouth like there is no tomorrow, bringing more tears to your eyes. Your other hand caresses his firm abs and the flexing muscles underneath your fingertips provoke a sweet moan from you. It vibrates on Jungkook's cock and he can feel how close he is. His thrusts are not soft but you know he tries to hold himself back.

You pray for the sinful sounds not to wake up Junghee and you push your head further, your nose almost touching his pubic.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna cum'"Jungkook informs you

You hum to notify him that it's okay and you feel his grab tightening in your hair. You think that Jungkook is going to go a little wilder but he surprises you when his other hand gently settles on your cheeks to caress you with his thumb.

"Look at me" He asks but his voice is so weak that it's more like a plea

You do as he says and meet your best friend's frowning and fucked up face with a slight open mouth. He is damn hot. Your eyes are shiny because of your tears but you are so gorgeous. He can't believe how lucky he is. You're so fucking sexy and the fact that he is the one to see this side of you makes his dick throb. You're usually his very sweet baby mama — which also makes him horny to be true — but right now, you are like a goddess coming straight from his wildest sexual dreams. You are looking at each other with your usual affection eye but there is a sparkle of lust too that sends him on the edge. He is fully focused on you: your tongue, your hands on him, the sleek of your hair tangled in his fist, your soft skin underneath his thumb and your fucking beautiful eyes that he would like to look at forever. Jungkook cums on your tongue with soft growls.

Your cheeks are burning red when Jungkook steps in the bathroom to clean himself. You can't believe you've just done that. However, it's not panic that takes over you like the last time but a sweet feeling and a huge wave of arousal. It just felt right. Maybe the fact that you are both single eases you too. You sigh in content as you drop onto your couch, blushing when you replay the filthy scene that just took place in your living room.

"Shit" Jungkook curses when he drops the towel down after washing his hands

He bends over to reach it but his eyes get attracted by something in your bathroom bin. His body freezes for a second and his hand is shaky when he grabs the little box. Carefully, he opens it and pulls out the pregnancy test. It's negative.

Jungkook doesn't know if he is relieved or sad about it. But you're on the pill so did you take the test just to be sure? Did you think you were pregnant? Is it after you had sex or is it because you've slept with Yoongi too? There are so many questions in his mind right now and the only way to answer them is to ask you directly.

Your best friend finds you on the couch, a gentle smile on your face. The room is quite dark, only enlightens by the moon so you don't see that Jungkook has the test in his hand. He sits next to you and he clears his throat.

"I found this in your bin" He says as softly as he can

He doesn't want you to feel accused. He just wants to know and he knows you: you must have your reasons not to tell him.

Your eyes widen and your heart starts beating fast.

"It's negative" You say with a chocked voice

"I know. Did you think you were pregnant?" Jungkook asks and you bite your lower lip — there is no point in lying since everything is fine

"Maybe?" You reply "I wanted to be sure because, you know, we had sex" You explain with blushed cheeks

"But you're on the pill" Your best friend tries to understand

"I... I'm not. I lied because I didn't want you to panic and you were with Harin. I already felt so guilty. And then, the test came back negative so I didn't see the point of telling you. I would have had if it were positive" You explain

"Is that weird that I wish it was positive?"

You look up at Jungkook and shake your head: you have wished too in someway. You know damn well that he is confessing that because you've come clear too. He always tells you a secret when you share one of yours. He has been doing that since you were eight and you love it. There are so many things you love about him actually.

"Come here, baby daddy" You whisper, opening your arms for him to scoot closer

You rest your head on his shoulder while he wraps you into his embrace. You both enjoy the peaceful silence and you close your eyes when Jungkook gently rubs your side.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

Jungkook is watching you getting ready for Yoongi's son birthday party. He doesn't know if he should enjoy how good you look in the dress he has bought you — an ankle-long tight black dress with long sleeves from the lounge wear collection of Skims that really pleases him because you're like the perfect hot mom — or if he should grow grumpy because you might put efforts for another man. The way the dress hugs your curves is insane: your boobs and your ass are perfectly accentuated and you are fucking sexy. Jungkook can't hold himself and hugs you from behind. Despite looking like one of your usual friend hugs, he presses his crotch a little further against your ass and you can't deny that a wave of arousal washes over you.

"You look good, baby mama" Jungkook says with a voice a little raspy

"You do too, Kook" You reply with blushed cheeks as you're eyeing his white shirt perfectly holding his buff chest and his strong thighs covered by his black jeans

You can feel your best friend's inked hand slowly rubbing your stomach before going up and stopping right under your boobs. Your breathe is cut off and all you can think about is feeling Jungkook everywhere on your body. Your eyes cling on each other through the mirror. You notice how Jungkook's eyes are even darker than usual and the way they look hungry. He tilts his head and lightly kisses the thin and sensitive skin straight below your earlobe, which makes you shiver. It's so erotic how slowly and delicately yet sensually Jungkook moves. You press your thighs against each other because your panties are more than wet now, which causes a smirk on Jungkook's face. His hand is about to finally grab your tit when a little boy jumps on your bed.

You immediately put some distance between your bodies.

"Come on, we're gonna be late!" Junghee whines

You know he has been waiting all day for his friend's birthday. You pick him up in your arms and Jungkook takes care of the present and your bag. Your best friend smiles at the scene: you're a beautiful family. A tender smile paints his face when he sees his son tightening his little arms around your neck to hug you. The amount of love he is feeling right now is indescribable.

Your son is immediately running to Seung when you arrive at the party. You're feeling a little embarrassed to face Yoongi after what happened. You have managed to avoid him at work but there is no way to escape now. Your colleague spots out and gives you a nod to which you reply with a smile. Jungkook is watching the interaction between you and he frowns. Why are you not talking to him? Why is the atmosphere tensed? He can't say that he is not happy about it because to be honest, he was a little stressed to be the fifth wheel with Yoongi and you. It would have broke his heart to witness some sweet gestures between the two of you, especially since your best friend and you have been intimate.

"What happened?" Jungkook discreetly asks in your ear, unable to keep his curiosity away any longer

"Yoongi is really great" You start with a sigh and the compliment makes Jungkook jealous "But I just think that there is not enough place for another man in my life right now"

"Well, you know I'm the only man for you" Your best friend teases you, wrapping an arm around your waist to press you into his side with possessiveness

"Actually, Junghee is the only man for me, he fills up all my dreams" You reply and stick out your tongue in a playful way

"Then we have to make a little baby girl to be even" Jungkook says lowly, squeezing your flesh a little which makes you blush

You are helping to set the food on the table while Jungkook is giving a spontaneous boxing lesson to the children after Junghee has bragged about his dad being a superhero, resulting in all the kids wanting to be one too. Your eyes are sparking with affection when you watch the scene. Jungkook is really good with kids and he is a great father to Junghee. The idea of having a baby hasn't seemed too crazy lately. Having a little girl or a little boy with him fills your chest with happiness. Maybe you should do it. The only thing that holds you back is your relationship with Jungkook. You're not sure you want to have a baby with your best friend anymore... You wish you could have a baby with your husband. You miss the ring on your finger, you miss Jungkook as your hubby.

You're not stupid enough to not have noticed that your relationship has slightly evolved recently but marriage is a big step. However, it's the twenty-first century so if you want to be married, you don't have to wait for the proposal: you can ask him yourself, for real this time. Perhaps, after all, your friends and family were right all along: you were bound to fall in love with your best friend.

You don't know when you fell in love with Jungkook. Was it after having Junghee? When you got married? Or have you actually being in love with him since you were eight? Maybe you didn't know that your love for him was actually a romantic love because it's all you've ever known. It doesn't really matter though because now you know. You love him. As your best friend, as your baby daddy and as the best man you've ever met. You just love him, as a person, all of him.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

Your son wanted to stay for Seung's sleepover so you went back home with Jungkook only. Your heart is beating like crazy. You try to imagine how your best friend will react when you ask him to marry and the stress is filling your whole body. You can't look at him in the eyes.

"I can't believe Junghee is old enough to go to sleepovers" Jungkook jokes "He'll soon have his first girlfriend"

"Don't you think it's a little bit young for a girlfriend?" You say with a sigh because your baby can't grow up so fast

"I had my first one at three" He proudly informs you but you're too tensed to laugh

You keep avoiding his glance and you fiddle with your fingers as the anxiety directs your blood to your feet to run away.

"Is everything okay?" Jungkook asks, worried

"Yes. Can you... wait here please?" You reply, escaping the living room as fast as you can

You breath deeply before looking into your nightstand. The sliver ring is immediately noticeable with the way it shines under the light. A light smile appears on your face when you remember putting the ring on your best friend's finger a few years ago. After your divorce, you agreed on keeping Jungkook's ring and him yours. It was a way to always have a small part of each other as spouses. You are so glad to have it right now, even though you can feel the stress filling up your body. Are you really going to ask him to marry you? Yes, you are. The thought could make you giggle if the possibility of rejection didn't make you nauseous.

When you enter the living room, you find Jungkook sitting patiently on the couch. He immediately stands up because he can sense your uneasiness. He frowns and opens his mouth to speak but you stop him by showing the ring. Confusion is clear on your best friend's face.

"I know that it might sound crazy" You start, gathering all your courage for your confession and grabbing his left hand at the same time, the contact of your skins smooths you a bit "But you and I have shared so many things. I've never been happier than when we were married. It took me years to finally notice that..." You gulp, the next words being the most important yet scary words "I love you, Kook. I truly, deeply love you. So, will you marry me? Again?"

You end up your proposal with a hitch pitch tone that fakes chill while you're going crazy because you have just opened your heart and you feel vulnerable. You look at him and the few seconds of silence are killing you.

"No"

"No?" Your heart stops, breaks, burns or maybe everything at the same time

You feel stupid. It was so stupid to think that Jungkook would marry you or love you the way you do. You agreed on being friends years ago, why did you think something has changed? Because of the few loving eyes you shared? Because you had sex? Because he said you were the only one for him? You can't believe you've interpreted it all wrong. You want to cry but you fight the tears to maintain your dignity. And even if Jungkook doesn't want to marry you, it doesn't mean he doesn't love you because you know he does. Maybe just not the same as you do.

Jungkook starts to panic when he notices the hurt on your face. He steps closer and cups your face with his big palms.

"No, no, no, it's not what I wanted to say!" He adds quickly "I want to marry you!" The confession makes your heart jumps in your chest "God, you don't know how much I want it but you can't ask me to marry you" Now, you're the one confused and your heartbeats are going wild but you don't even know why "You can't ask me because I want to ask you. So your proposal is going to mess up all my plan to set up a very romantic diner with flowers and all that shit"

You can't help a giggle.

"I don't care about that, Kook. Our wedding was perfect as simple as it was and I don't need anything more than you and Junghee. So please, marry me?" You ask again, tears — of joy? — in your eyes

"Yes!" He exclaims, right before kissing you

The kiss is good. So damn good. You release all the stress you've accumulated and Jungkook's lips have never felt so sweet. It's addictive and you're not sure you can live without them anymore. You pull away just enough to put the ring on his finger and it fits perfectly. Not only because it was his ring before but because it belongs here. His hand seems empty without it and his life is not complete without you as his wife. The strong emotion of the moment brings tears to your eyes: it's so much love that it can't contain in your body.

"I love you" He whispers, his shiny doe eyes even brighter than usual

You are going to marry your best friend. Again. But this time, for real — but can you really say that the last time was not real? All these years, you were blind or maybe too afraid to notice that you actually were in love with him. It's in fact impossible not to when Jungkook is perfect. He is your family and not only because he is your baby daddy. He feels like home. His strong arms are your shelter and gosh, you love him so much.

"There is another thing I want to do with you" He announces, his voice deep and thick with emotion "I want to make love with you" Those words send delightful shivers down your spine "And I want another baby. Maybe not now if you're not ready, but someday"

"I'm ready" You softly reply "I've been thinking about it for a few months now and I don't want anyone else but you"

Jungkook's heart jumps in his chest and his euphoria takes control of his body. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. You gasp and laugh while you instinctively circles his hips with your legs. You put your lips on his again, craving for his touch everywhere on you. Butterflies fill your stomach when he walks to your bedroom. He delicately lands you on your bed and lifts up your dress to access your covered pussy. His eyes shines with lust and you bit your lower lip. He circles your clit with his thumb through the thin fabric, making your head roll back and your panties wetter. You wish he could just take if off already to feel him skin to skin.

He places himself between your open legs and slowly drag down your underwear. He is amazed by your glistening cunt, so appetizing. He kisses your inner thighs, which causes you to jolt a little so your future husband has to hold your legs open for him — thinking about Jungkook as that creates a fog of delicious delirium around your brain, or maybe it's just the way he touches you?

"Can I taste you?" He asks with eagerness and you blush hard

You nod and bit your lip with anticipation, and Jungkook doesn't waste time. He takes a fat lap of your arousal and hums at your sweet taste. He then gives a quick and tender kiss on your clit before diving into it shamelessly. His expert tongue rolls around your sensitive bud and you can't help tugging on his black hair. You moan, a harmonious melody to his ears. His mouth gets rougher, taking sinful gulps from your dripping pussy.

Jungkook notices your walls clenching around nothing and rectifies it by entering you with his tongue. It feels so fucking good, especially when his nose bumps against your clit.

"Oh god!" You moan, your cunt throbbing around his wet muscle

Your back arches because you want to feel him more. It's paradoxical because you don't know if you can take any more pleasure. He settles his inked hand flat on your lower tummy, appreciating the softness of your skin and willing to protect the place where his second child will develop — he hopes — soon, and takes it as an opportunity to rub your clit with his thumb. Your pussy is so wet with your arousal and his saliva that your fiancé's mouth is making sloppy yet so arousing sounds. Jungkook's hums echo into you, driving you completely crazy.

"I want you" You groan as you tug on his hair to bring his handsome yet ruined face to yours

You kiss him passionately and you taste yourself on his tongue. It feels so sinful yet so arousing. To be honest, you could have cummed just with his tongue but you want to do it around his big fat cock. And now that you know that you're going to spend the rest of your life with Jungkook, you know you can use his mouth on your cunt another time. Every time you want.

Your hands impatiently grab the hem of his shirt, urging Jungkook to reveal his perfect body to you. And he does. Your breathe gets cut. He is gorgeous. His bare torso is even more beautiful in the sunset light coming from your window, or maybe it's love that taints your vision. Your hand caresses his skin and you feel his muscles flexing under your touch. You run your hand on his biceps and abs and finally reach his own hand. You squeeze it tenderly and look at Jungkook in the eyes. The time seems to stop for a second. There is no words needed because you both know what you want to say: you love each other.

Jungkook brings your hand to his lips and kisses it before helping you to take off your dress and your bra. It's weird to be all naked in front of him because, even through it's only the second time, you feel comfortable. And you know it's because it's him. You feel his doe eyes traveling on your body, making you blush.

"You're beautiful" He tells you

"You're beautiful, too" You whispers back

Jungkook feels like he loves you even more. Every time he hears your sweet voice, every time he sees your face, every time he looks at Junghee, he loves you more. He wonders how it's even possible since his love for you is already endless.

He grabs a pillow and places it under your head to make you comfortable since he intends to make love to you all night long. His breathe aches when your hands unbutton his jeans. His own hands join yours to peel himself naked. Your thumb spreads a drop of pre cum on his tip, making Jungkook moans softly yet huskily.

He brings your legs to your chest to admire your pussy once again. He can't wait to enter you, especially when he sees your hole clenching. Fuck, it's so hot, it's like your cunt is craving for his cock. With two fingers, he penetrates you, just enough to gather enough of your juices to lube his hard length.

When his dick is shining with your essence, he grabs the base of it and brings it closer to your pussy. He looks at you another time, silently asking you if it's okay and you vigorously nod, owning a smirk from Jungkook. Your mouth falls open and your eyes shut close when the tip passes over your entrance. He goes slow, making you feel every single inch of his cock. It's so big that it stretches you in the best way possible. When he is entirely in you, you let go the air you were keeping in your lungs.

"Fuck, it's big" You moan, filling Jungkook's chest with pride

You might have had sex not so long along, the position and the no-rush of the situation makes you feel him more. Last time, you didn't really take time to appreciate how well he opens your cunt and how fucking good it feels.

"You're the one who makes me this hard" He teases but bends over to kiss you and soothes a little of your discomfort — which is not, it's pure pleasure

You want to move your legs but the inked man has other plans. He keeps them close to your chest by holding the back of your knees and starts humping into you. His pelvis snaps against your pussy and ass, making your head foggy with delight. You have to put a hand on your mouth to cover your loud moans but Jungkook doesn't like it. He frees your legs, which automatically wrap around his waist, and intertwines yours fingers with his, placing both hands next to your head.

"Let me hear you" He cockily says and you immediately groan louder — you can't really do otherwise when he is pounding harsher

"Oh god, Kook!"

You squeeze his hands harder to hold onto something, the pleasure way too big not to loose your sanity. Immediately, Jungkook's eyes are attracted by your bare finger and he frowns. He doesn't like it. With a swift move, he slides his own ring on your left forefinger. Despite the ring being too big for you, his chest is filled with happiness and pride. Your small hand adorned with his ring next to his tattooed skin is so beautiful and romantic and means everything to him that he wishes he could take a picture — he would if he wasn't ball deep inside you right now. It feels right yet extraordinary. Loving you was never a choice he made but if he had to, he would. A hundred times, in a hundred different lives.

"Look at me" He asks you gently, slowing his dick strokes a little

His pace is more passionate and romantic now, rolling his hips deep against you. Your eyes are drawn into his black irises full of love. You free your right hand and cup his face. Jungkook presses his cheek against your palm and slightly turns his head to settle a soft kiss on it. The gesture is sweet and attacks your heart.

"My beautiful man" You whisper, your eyes getting watery by the emotion even though it's hard to believe that Jungkook is now yours because you can't be this lucky

You can feel his tip brushing against your g-spot from time to time. Your fiancé gets a clue of it since your walls tighten around him. It's so fucking good and your bouncing boobs are like a challenge for him: he wants to fuck you harder to make them jolt more. So he does, the low and deep pace long forgotten to set a quick yet still deep rhythm. He grabs one tit and pinches your nipple quite hard.

"Kook!" You whine

"Sorry, I couldn't resist, I love your boobs" He apologies but still keeps his hand around your breasts

He digs his knees firmly into the mattress and straightens up to pound into you harder. He places one of your legs on his shoulder and wraps his strong arms around it to keep you in place. The change of angle sends his cock directly to your sweet spot.

"Oh, god, right here! I'm gonna come!" You notify Jungkook and he nods

"Go on, baby, make me see your pretty fucked face" He replies with grinned teeth due to the effort

The sound of your clapping skins is hot and all your senses are filled by Jungkook. Your room even smells like sex. And what a great sex... You've never felt this good while fucking because it's more than just the physical aspect, it's also the emotional side.

Your left hand reaches for one of his and your fiancé tenderly smiles at the silver band around your finger shining with the light. You feel real close to the edge. Your cunt becomes tight and Jungkook hisses with pleasure. He leads your hand to your pussy so he can use his thumb on your clit. It's what you needed to feel the wave of arousal washing over you. You loudly moan his name while you're cumming, creaming Jungkook's fat cock. He helps you reach your high with his poundings and the delicious circles he draws on your sensitive bud.

You're out of breathe when you come back to Earth and the tattooed man has slowed down his pace but he hasn't come yet. That's something you need to fix. You push on his pec to make him rest on his back. You're quick to sit on his lap, knees on both sides of his perfect and sexy body, especially with a thin layer of sweat and a heavily breathing chest. You hold his dick up to impale yourself on it.

Jungkook settles his hands on your hips and guides you to find the good rhythm. You take support on his strong chest and smile at the ring. You can't wait to have your own.

You ride him like a maniac despite your exhaustion. Your hair sticks to your forehead and to the back of your neck but you don't care. You take him deep, so deep that your clit brushes to his pelvis every time.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good" He growls, his eyes set on your bouncing tits

He gives you a quick slap on his ass, provoking a squeak of surprise from you, soon replaced by arousal. There is a pool of mess between your legs and Jungkook can feel your juices dripping down his balls.

"I want to fill you so bad" He continues "I can't wait to see pregnant again"

His words make your heart jump and your pussy clench. Why does pregnancy turn you on so much?

"My gorgeous baby mama" He whispers, more to himself than to you but you hear him nonetheless

"If having a baby make you this hard, then we should have more than two kids" You tease him

"You make me hard and it's having a baby with you that makes me happy" He rectifies, your cheeks taking a darker shade of red

The butterflies coming from his confession spur you to faster your pace. Your ass slaps against his thighs, filling the room with sinful sounds. Jungkook squeezes your asscheeks and controls your moves by pulling you harsher on his cock.

"Fuck, you ride me so well, baby"

Your moan are louder as you feel another orgasm approaching. Your moves get unsteady and Jungkook takes over by lifting his hips and thrusting into your throbbing cunt. Your head rolls back, making your groans raspier and your hands fitting into fists on his chest.

"Kook.." You try to say between dick strokes "I'm close"

"Me too, baby" He growls

Your body shakes, your toes curl and you fall on his torso as you cum again. White dots paints your vision and you feel like in another world. Jungkook's arms wraps around your frame to hold you in place as he chases his own high. You settle some kisses in his sweaty neck and your hands run through his black hair.

"Cum inside me" You plea, driving your fiancé crazy

"Oh, fuck..." He moans as he releases his hot shots of seeds

You are both panting and none of you wants to move. So you stay like that, sweaty and exhausted but cuddling. You hum when he caresses your back and kisses your temple.

"I love you" You whisper, your head beyond the clouds because of your orgasms and your happiness

"I love you, too" He replies gently before jokingly adding "If that doesn't make you pregnant, I'll be happy to try again"

A tired laugh escapes your lips. You are happy. So, so happy right now in your best friend/baby daddy/fiancé's arms. All the things he is for you reflect how much he means in your life. Now, you can't wait to be married with him again and you add another baby to your family. Jungkook told you he wanted a girl and you find the idea very pleasing, even though a cute little boy like Junghee would be perfectly fine too.

✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°

2 years later

You are stressed. More than stressed actually but you can't show it to Junghee while he is so excited. You kneel in front of your five-year old — already — son. You make sure to fix his equipment again, not wanting him to get hurt.

"Are you sure it's not dangerous?" You ask your husband for the hundredth time, making him roll his eyes

"Babe, it's a children competition. They are not even allowed to hit each other except than on the chest protection" Jungkook tries to reassure you

You nod but you don't feel better. Why did you agree with your son taking boxing classes? Yeah, of course you remember: Junghee has begged you for it, wanting to be 'as cool as his dad'. With heavy heart, you let him join his friends and you head to the coach corner where your husband gives the last instructions to his students.

It's quite funny to see your big and strong husband talking with such seriousness to a bunch of children. Especially when he has a baby-carrier on his chest with your baby girl in it. Your 15 month-old daughter seems calm, sucking on her pacifier while looking with big eyes at her dad. Her cuteness makes you slowly lose your sanity every day. You step closer, not even caring about the questioning look Jungkook is sending you and you kiss your daughter on her chubby cheeks, which makes her giggle.

"Hum, babe, I'm trying to give important explanations here" He catches your attention and only then you realize that all the children are looking at you

"Oh, sorry" You apologies with blushed cheeks — but how could you resist your adorable baby?

You stay close to Jungkook the whole competition, cheering for his students. Your heart stops and you grab his hand when your son steps on the ring. He looks confident and the fierce in his eyes is similar to his dad's one before a fight. It's painful to watch Junghee getting hit, even if it's just on his chest and if he has a whole equipment to protect his small body.

When the bell rings and Junghee wins because he has given more hits than his opponent, you jump of joy — and relief.

"Mommy!" Junghee exclaims, running to you with a big bunny smile

You take him in your arms and kiss his cheeks, even though you're kissing his protection helmet more than his skin.

"You did so good, baby!" You praise him

"Gaaaaaw!" Your daughter shouts against Jungkook's chest

She certainly wants to congratulate her big brother.

"I won for you, Jiwon" Junghee proudly announces and your heart melts instantly

"I see, now you can protect your sister and mama, right?" Jungkook asks and his son nods

"Can we have pizzas for diner, please?"

You can't resist his big doe eyes. You can't believe Junghee is already five. You can even less believe that Jiwon was born almost a year and a half ago. It's just that happiness makes time pass quicker. You look at Jungkook and your smile grows wilder. You love the man, and you love even more the family he gave you. 

Drabble 1

#bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts #jjk #jjk x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bangtan sonyeondan

[theemporium]

[3.6k] your life comes crumbling down when photos are leaked of your boyfriend making out with another girl. it doesn't help that your other boyfriend seems to be handling it worse than you are by ignoring the world, including you. well, the everyone except his rival.

series masterlist

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It felt like a nightmare. 

A sick, twisted nightmare that you were waiting to wake up from any minute now. You could imagine it so clearly, shooting up in your bed with the sheets sticking to your sweaty skin and blood roaring in your ears before soft, comforting French words washed over you. You imagined a pair of arms wrapping around you, holding you tight and a pair of lips pressed against the top of your head until you found the courage to speak.

Every cell in your body craved for that to be your reality, but it wasn’t. 

Instead, you were sitting on your bed in the comfort of your father’s home with the distant sound of music playing from the kitchen and the curtains pulled back to let the sunshine come through and—well, a series of photos on your screen that made you feel like you were about to vomit, if you even had anything in your stomach from last night’s dinner to bring up.

It wasn’t often you visited your father’s home in Switzerland. But sometimes you craved the normalcy and seclusion of the farmhouse. You craved a few days to just relax, to pretend you were a normal girl with a normal father with a normal life. You liked to play pretend for a few days, and Sebastian always entertained the whole concept because he liked having you around. 

That was what this trip was supposed to be. 

With the boys over in the states for the Miami Grand Prix, you had decided against flying out with them. It had been a few months since you had seen your father and, with no great urge to fuck up your body clock with jet lag, you had decided to fly up to Switzerland instead before the boys inevitably returned for Imola. 

It had been nice. It had been exactly what you needed. It had been the few days you needed to ground yourself, to remember life beyond the constant work and travel. It had been the perfect getaway. Even as a young girl, your life revolved around the paddock with your father racing every other weekend, it was easy to forget a life outside of it all. 

But right now? Yeah, you really fucking wish the outside world didn’t exist at all. 

Your relationship with your boys was complicated and intertwined and unconventional, but it was yours. You loved each other, you cared for each other, you would do anything for each other. Or at least, that was what you assumed. The day Charles Leclerc and Pierre Gasly entered your life, you thought everything made sense.

Even if it took a few years of beating around the bush and your own feelings to reach that conclusion. 

You thought your relationship with your boys was one of the key things that made your life so perfect, that made you happy to be the one living it. 

Until you woke up this morning, rolling over and reaching for your phone to find a flurry of notification banners filling up your screen. It was a mix of messages and mixed calls and mentions from almost every social media app you owned. It was a mess, undistinguishable and baffling to your barely-awake brain. You honestly just expected it to be another fluke, another stupid scandal blossoming out of nothing. It made you want to roll over and fall back asleep before your PR manager inevitably called you. 

God, you would have preferred a stupid scandal to this.

Instead, you found countless photos and videos of Pierre. He was in a club, most likely celebrating ending up in the points after the race. He was in that white linen shirt you loved on him, the one he always left a little too unbuttoned because he knew it drove you and Charles crazy. But instead of his friends or even Charles by his side, it was some random girl. 

His hands were all over her. She was pressed up against his front, starry eyed and grinning up at him. His lips were on her lips, her neck, any inch of skin he could kiss. She was laughing and dragging him out of the club. He was smiling and happily following her.

And you felt fucking sick. 

Not even in your worst nightmares had you imagined something like this, something as horrific and despicable and public as this. Never had you thought Pierre—one of the men you loved—could be capable of this. You never thought he could do this to you, to Charles. 

Charles. 

Charles who was nowhere to be seen in the videos. Charles who had messaged about having an early night sleep before he flew out to Maranello for Imola prep. Charles who was either asleep, on a plane or sitting in his hotel room in a similar state to you. 

Fuck, you wished you were with him right now. 

But you couldn’t stop reading the comments, reading the countless articles and tweets and posts about the whole situation. You couldn’t bring yourself to ignore the comments from strangers on the internet saying it was about time, that they were glad he got away from you. The ones showing sympathy were even worse because it made this real, it made the whole fucking thing so real.

You hadn’t even heard the music from the kitchen stop or the footsteps approaching your bedroom. You hadn’t heard the knock or the door slowly creaking open. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen until you felt a warm arm wrapping around your shoulders. 

“Shhh, honigbienchen, it’s okay. Let it out, I’ve got you,” Sebastian murmured, his voice soft and sweet and comforting and the exact thing you needed to break down the last of your crumbling walls. 

You pressed yourself into your father’s side as you sobbed, as you mourned the loss of what you believed was a loving and trusting relationship. You let yourself melt into his embrace as he held you close, as he held you together. 

You didn’t fight as he pulled your phone from your grasp, locking it and throwing it somewhere on the bed behind him. You didn’t fight as he pulled you closer, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck as you let the familiar smell of your father’s cologne—the same one he has used since you were a child—wash over you. You didn’t fight as he murmured comforting words in German because a part of you hoped he was right, wanted nothing more than your father to be right. 

You just let yourself break because you knew your father would keep you together.

...

...

The apartment felt like a mockery of the life you once lived. 

You remember the day the three of you signed the lease, it was one of the happiest days of your life. There were always concerns about moving too fast, about hitting a milestone as big as moving in together so early on in the relationship. But, in all honesty, you didn’t see the issues. Call it rose-tinted glasses or call it the truth, but it never felt too soon.

Not for you and your boys. 

Because the relationship was still new when you moved in, just under a year old, but you had known these boys for years. Your life had been intertwined with racing from the day you were born because of your father, you had seen these boys grow up alongside you. You had been there to see them both enter Formula one. You had been there to see Charles as your father’s teammate. 

You had been there for it all. 

You had been friends long before you were a couple. You had grown close to Charles in the days your father wore the Ferrari emblem. You had found yourself attached to the boy, bonding with him in a way you never had in previous years. And where Charles was, Pierre was close behind. They were the package deal you thought you had lucked out on. 

So, moving in together seemed like a baby step in the future the three of you had planned together, a simple necessity as you continued to grow and love and care for each other. 

Now, it was a painful reminder that the place you called your home was tainted with the memories of a man you once loved. Maybe still loved. You hadn’t wanted to delve into those feelings too much yet.

It was empty. 

You had expected as much, or maybe you didn’t. You weren’t sure anymore. 

A small part of you assumed for this to be the moment you woke up from your nightmare. That you would wake up in your bed, slowly blinking your eyes open as you heard the boys laughing away in the kitchen at whatever they were attempting to cook before you woke. 

Another part of you expected to find Charles here, looking like a mirror reflection of you as you finally fell into his arms, as you received the touch you had been craving from him and him only in the last forty-eight hours. 

Another part of you expected to find Pierre standing in front of you, despite the reassurance you had received from a few friends at Alpine that the boy hadn’t left Miami. You thought maybe he would be here to beg for forgiveness or explain himself. You thought maybe he would at least have the decency to look half as worried as you were about Charles’ disappearance off the face of the Earth. 

You didn’t know if you were disappointed or relieved that he wasn’t here.

With your messages and calls receiving no answer from Charles, you had packed your bags and hopped on the first flight out of Switzerland. Your father had his reservations of you leaving so soon, of you being alone. To be completely honest, you wished you could have stayed in his arms forever and ignore everything.

But you needed to see Charles. 

You had to see him with your own two eyes because he was the only person in the world who understood what you were going through. 

To the world, it was just you and Pierre. And you were all okay with that for right now, you were okay with keeping the details and complications of your relationship private until the moment was right. 

But right now, you fucking despised it. Because the world was so focused on you and on Pierre and on the random girl from the club, but nobody was looking at Charles. Nobody cared about Charles. And despite your relationship being an open secret to the paddock, it seemed not even the people closest to him—his own fucking team—knew where he was.

And it fucking terrified you.

Monaco had been your last hope. Your apartment had been a fucking last resort. You were grasping at straws and you were losing your mind and there were a million different things running through your head but you just wanted Charles. 

There was still a voice in the back of your head reassuring you that he would show up, that he would walk through that door and fall into your arms until you both felt something other than pain right now. 

You wanted nothing more than for him to come home, to come to you. 

But forty-eight hours of emotions were wracking through you and you didn’t even realise you were falling asleep on the living room couch until your body was too tired to even try sitting up.

...

…

“Where did you find him?” 

“Well, hello to you too.” 

You flashed the Dutchman a sheepish smile as a wave of embarrassment washed over you. Your brain had been on a one-track mentality since you received his message, the bleary-eyed sleepiness long gone the second he mentioned Charles. You hadn’t even bothered to drive over, far too jittery and worked up to get behind the wheel. You needed the cold air to calm you down.

“Sorry, hello,” you greeted as you stepped into his apartment, trying to push down the urge to just grab Max’s shoulders and shake him until he told you where Charles was. “I just—”

“I know, you’re worried,” he said, his voice softer than you expected. “C’mon, I left him on the couch because he looked comfortable and I didn’t want to disturb him.”

You silently followed the boy through the long entrance corridor, your hands clenched into fists at your side to stop yourself from picking at the skin around your nail beds until they were raw and bleeding. 

You tried to prepare yourself for the sight you were going to see, to prepare for the worst just in case. 

You hadn’t expected him to look so…peaceful. 

He was sprawled on Max’s couch like the boy had said, his clothes rumpled and his hair messy but—at first glance, at least—he looked okay. But you could see the signs that he was no better than you were. His cheeks were red, like he had been crying a lot, and so was the tip of his nose, like he had been wiping it excessively. He looked worn down, and heavier than usual. Like there was a weight on his shoulders beyond the usual season stress. 

He looked like he was half as put together as you.

“I found him outside a bar,” Max’s voice startled you out of your thoughts as he stepped into the space beside you at the bottom of the couch. “I was on a late night run—you know, jet lag and stuff—and he was there. He was…” 

You frowned a little, turning to look at the Dutchman. “He was what?” 

“He wasn’t okay,” Max whispered with his own frown. “He could barely string a sentence together, let alone stand up. I think he had been kicked out of the bar, I don’t know. I promised him I would call you if he came back with me. I…I couldn’t just leave him there, you know?” 

You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. “Thank you, Max.”

“It’s no problem, really,” he assured you and the silence fell between you two once more. And Max watched as your attention shifted back to Charles. He waited a few moments, a mental debate playing in his head, back and forth like a tennis match before he spoke up again. “I’m sorry. About everything. It…uh, it really sucks.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Thanks.” 

Max took the hint and quickly shifted the conversation. “It doesn’t look like he is waking up anytime soon,” he said. “You can stay the night. The spare room is free. Or I can bring some blankets out here if you don’t want to leave him.”

You turned to him, a strained smile on your face. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s okay,” he assured you, and something in you felt relieved that you wouldn’t have to return home to that bed, the bed you shared with him. “It’s late anyways. You look like you need some rest.”

You chose to omit the fact that you hadn’t slept more than a few hours in the last few days, and even that was after crying yourself to exhaustion. 

“Thank you, Max. Really.” 

The Dutchman smiled. “Like I said, it’s no problem.”

...

…

When Charles woke up the next morning, his head was killing him.

There was a bright light on his face, his mouth felt desert dry and he could have sworn there was a heavy weight on his chest. Not the metaphorical kind he had been lugging around for the last few days, but something actually weighing down on his chest and making it a little hard to breathe.

He gave himself a moment, tried to ground himself and hype himself up to open his eyes when he knew the light would only be more irritating than it was now. He tried to prepare himself for the killer hangover he was going to have to nurse all day, along with the countless calls to his team to apologise for not showing up to any of the meetings. 

To eventually reply to you too. 

However, when Charles finally gained the courage to open his eyes, the last thing he expected was to see a cat staring down at him. 

“What the—” He startled as he quickly sat up. 

The cat let out a noise of surprise before meowing, glaring at him before it padded off. Charles watched it for a few moments before blinking, taking in the unfamiliar setting around him. He knew he wasn’t in his apartment, or his mother’s, or either of his brothers’. 

He had no fucking idea where he was. 

But before the overwhelming fear took over his body and made him throw up everything he drank the previous night, you wandered into the room with a mug in hand. 

“You’re awake,” you breathed out, stopping mid-walk like you couldn’t quite believe he was there. 

Charles opened his mouth to say something but you reacted faster. The mug was abandoned on the coffee table he had failed to notice and you were throwing yourself in his arms, clinging onto him like you hadn’t seen him in years. 

It had felt like it had been years.

Charles let himself wind his arms around you, to pull you onto his lap and nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck until the familiar scent of your shampoo completely engulfed him. He let himself enjoy the feeling of you in his arms after almost two weeks of not seeing you in person. He let himself enjoy the one person in this world that didn’t make him feel like questioning everything in his life. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry—”

“Shhh, it’s fine,” you whispered back, sniffling back your own tears. “It’s fine. You’re here now, that’s what matters.” 

“But—”

“I just need you, Charles, no matter how long you take,” you murmured, your words slightly muffled but his arms tightened around you in understanding. 

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes, just soaking in the presence after so long apart. And, if he was being honest, he was in no rush to speak about everything. It had been playing on his mind like a broken record since he saw the videos, he didn’t want to give it any more brain space. He knew it was inevitable, but right now he just wanted to enjoy you. 

“Where are we?” He asked eventually when the curiosity and the cat glaring at him became too much. 

“Max’s house,” you murmured, feeling the boy tense beneath you. You pulled back, keeping yourself close as you flashed the boy a sheepish expression. “He found you last night and brought you here before something happened to you.”

“Oh.” Charles blinked. “That was kind of him.” 

“Very,” you nodded in agreement. You watched him for a few moments as he stared around the living room before you continued talking. “My team messaged me.”

Charles swallowed. “Yeah?”

“They want to know what our plan is,” you whispered. You didn’t need to say more than that, Charles understood. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Val thinks it will backfire,” you murmured, looking down at your hands instead of his face. “If we are seen together too much.” 

Charles tensed. 

“The media might spin a story about me moving on from—” You paused, his name unable to pass your lips. 

“Can we just…not talk about this right now?” Charles whispered, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I just…it’s too much.”

“Okay,” you whispered with a nod. 

“We will handle it,” Charles assured you as he reached for your hand. Because he knew you, he knew the whole thing was eating  you up and it didn’t help pushing the conversation away. But he needed to be in the right state for it—not half-drunk from the night before. “Together. I promise.”

You sniffled, squeezing his hand. “Together.” 

“You two want pancakes for breakfast?” 

Both of your heads snapped around to find Max by the door, a kind smile on his face. He paused when he took a look at the both of you, probably noticing the solemn faces and red eyes and instantly looking embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry, did I just ruin a moment?” 

You shook your head. “No—”

“We would love pancakes,” Charles finished for you, trying to focus on your hand in his rather than the fact he was sitting on the couch of the man he had been competing with for a majority of his life. “Coffee is on us. As a thank you.” 

Max waved him off. “It’s fine—”

“We insist,” you said firmly. 

Max glanced between you before nodding. “Okay,” he said. “But I’m only saying yes because you two seem very stubborn and I’m not awake enough to deal with that.” 

And for the first time in over forty-eight hours, you had the oddest urge to laugh.

“Wanna order the coffee together?”

“Together.”

You weren’t sure what would happen next. You didn’t know what you were going to tell Val or the rest of your team. You didn’t know what Charles’ team would say. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do when you eventually saw Pierre again, when you had to sort out the fact you technically shared a flat with him.

But right now, your biggest issue was figuring out which coffee Max Verstappen liked and it was a kind distraction to your messy life.

Especially with the assurance that Charles was by your side.

.

#lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[the-moon-devi]

Astro Indicators Of Being Curvy

Reminder! This can change based off of genetics, and if you have any harsh aspects from saturn to any of these planets/placements.

🍑 Jupiter Dominance~ Individuals with Jupiter as one of their dominant planets tend to have a curvaceous appearance or a particular body part that is noticeably larger. However, this trait usually manifests in conjunction with other factors. Jupiter governs the legs, which often leads to this body part being much more prominent than others.

🍑 Moon/Venus Dominance: Both of these are feminine planets. Having 1 or both of these as your top 3 dominant planets gives the native a natural, curvy shape and womanly appearance. Moon gives you softness and bust. Moon can also bring the weight, while venus brings in the shape and curves. Moon rules boobs and venus rules the butt.

🍑 Sag/Taurus/Cancer/Libra dominant

🍑 Ceres in 1h/ conjunct Asc~ This is the asteroid of motherhood. And from what I've notice this brings women specifically a plumpness and curviness to their appearance. Their womanly body parts are more accentuated. Usually the chest area is prominent too!

Ex: Marilyn Monroe

🍑 Saggittarius Ascendants- our centaurs bring the legs. Lol. Although it doesn't always have to be the legs but it's usually something nice about that area. Sag Ascendants are ruled by the planet of expansion (jupiter) so its never surprising when I see that they are thicker than most people in their family.

🍑 purva ashada Ascendants

🍑 Cancer Ascendants- cancer all around brings womanliness, and femininity. They can sometimes embody that motherly figure of having wider hips and being thicker especially once they get older. Most the times when we see Cancer Ascendants who are slim they usually have saturn or mercurial influence on the Ascendant. Cancer can also bring the tata's.

🍑 Libra/Taurus Ascendants

🍑 7th house lord (positively aspecting) jupiter/moon

🍑 Moon in 2nd,1st,7th,4th house

🍑 Venus - Jupiter

🍒 Venus - Moon

🍒 4th house ruler aspecting Jupiter

🍒 Jupiter in 1h, 2h, 4h

🍒 Punarvasu, Vishaka, Purvabhadrapada in big 3

🍒 Jupiter aspecting sun/moon, ascendant, ascendant ruler

🍒 Mars ruled nakshatras in big 3; dhanistha,Mrigashira, Chitra

🍒 Aqaurius Moon/ Uranus - Moon; The Curious Case of Aquarius and Curviness/

It's perplexing to think about how Aquarius or even Uranus could be related to body shape. However, these celestial bodies are known for ruling trends, and in recent years, it has become fashionable to embrace curves. Women who are curvier than the norm, especially those from diverse cultural backgrounds, have become the face of uniqueness. Aquarius, the outcast of the zodiac, can bring attention to unconventional body parts on women. This can be unexpected and may occur with age, causing body image issues in some women, especially those with an Aquarius moon. This sign also brings a taboo or otherworldly appearance, which is why I believe Sarah Baartman, who was treated like an animal for her appearance, was an Aquarius moon. Women with an Aquarius moon can stand out because of their unique nature, as this sign is associated with trends. Not all Aquarius moon women are going to be curvy, but it is understandable why some plus-size models with an Aquarius influence on their moon have been celebrated for breaking beauty standards.

Ex: Barbie Ferreira, Ashley Graham, Precious Lee, and Mia Amber Davis w/ Moon conjunct Uranus

🍒 Moon aspecting Ascendant

🍒 Moon- Jupiter

The more you have the thicker you are. It usually takes a combination of these. If you have these and still aren't considered to be thick, check and see if you have saturn or mercury impacting your ascendant or ascendant ruler.

𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓓𝓮'𝓛𝓾𝔁𝔁𝓮

𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓬𝓴 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓞𝓾𝓽.....

𝓗𝓸𝓽 𝓐𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝔂

©𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵

#astro community #astrology posts #pretty caramel #astro notes #astro observations #astro posts #astro placements #asteroid #astrology #natal chart #astrology blog #astrology tumblr #astrologyposts #astroblr #astro tumblr #astrology talk #astrology community #astro content #astrology notes #astrology beauty #astrology content #astro blog #astrology thoughts #astrology placements #astro talks #astro thoughts #astro theory #astrology birth chart #astro natal #birth chart

[haoboutyou]

for your convenience | kim mingyu

suggestive, fluff | 1281 words | alcohol mention, making out

mingyu’s got an unconventional solution to both your problems

“I still don’t understand how you’re still single, Gyu. My back is hurting from all the girls shooting lasers at me!” Yuju threw her head back in a laugh, bumping her shoulders into you playfully as she shouted over the loud music.

The man in question groaned in exasperation. “Not you too, Yuju. You’re starting to sound like my mom.”

“Oh my god, really?! I miss Auntie Kim!” Yuju squealed in joy. 

“I’m not kidding; she’s even set up blind dates for me!” Mingyu ran a hand over his face, whining. 

“Oh please. As soon as they find out about his golden retriever-ass personality, they’ll lose interest and make a run for it.” 

Next to her, Eunwoo smirked. He downed the drink in his hand in one go, wincing at the burn as he hooked an arm around Mingyu’s neck.

“You’re one to talk, Mr Dark-and-Mysterious.” Your cheeks are flushed bright red, evidence of the alcohol in your veins. You did a once-over of Eunwoo in his leather jacket, scoffing. “Remember when you cried because you stepped on a cicida?”

“One: I did not cry, my hair got into my eyes! And two: it was crunchy!” 

All you wanted to do tonight was get drunk, make out strangers and party hard with your friends. As soon as you entered Cherries, your little group had made a beeline for your usual table. Two cranberry vodkas into the night and you’ve found yourself twirling around your best friends on the dance floor, steps only a little wobbly as you bounced between Yuju, Eunwoo and Mingyu.

Actually, it was just you and Mingyu. Eunwoo had already retreated to the bar, and Yuju got lost on the crowded dance floor, probably grinding on the nearest hottie around her. Not that you minded one bit– you were the closest to Mingyu, anyway, so being alone with him wasn’t uncomfortable at all. 

Mingyu’s got a firm grip on your waist the whole time, ensuring your drunken self didn’t trip over your own feet. You were both mingling around, dancing along to the DJ and having the time of your life.

That was, until you spotted an unwelcomingly familiar figure by the bar, staring straight at you. The sudden chill that followed sobered you up in record time, halting you in your dance.

“Fuck, he’s here too?” 

Mingyu looked up to see where you were looking. “Is that Jaehyun? I thought you guys broke up months ago” 

“Apparently, he didn't get the memo,” you muttered.

You bit your lip, a nervous habit Mingyu noticed you formed a few years back. He couldn’t help but reach out, thumb caressing your lower lip to stop you from biting. He successfully managed to catch your attention; instead, you turned to look back at him.

“Y/n,” he gazed into your eyes, then towards the direction where your ex stood. “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course I do. Why did you a-”

Mingyu kissed you. 

He kissed you and now your brain is short-circuiting again, but for a completely different reason.

Kim Mingyu, possibly the most eligible bachelor in Cherries, just kissed you. 

Correction: he’s still kissing you. 

His hands gripped on both sides of your face, firm but gentle. His thumb softly caressed the apples of your cheeks as he angled himself to deepen the kiss. Somehow, his other hand found its way to the nape of your neck; tilting your head upwards and burying his fingers into your locks. 

You let out a gasp as he ran his tongue along your lips. It happened too suddenly; your hands were left to find purchase on his jacket, gripping for dear life. You, however, found yourself drowning in his scent; his warm and woody scent engulfing you whole. Kissing him back with equal fervour was a no-brainer– he made you lose yourself in him, with him.

He’s really good at it too, you realised, until he reluctantly broke the kiss. Cocoa-colour eyes stared back at you intently as Mingyu leaned his forehead against yours. The ferocity of the kiss left you both panting, a bright rosy flush gracing both your cheeks. 

The thumping beats and flashing lights of Cherries came rushing back into your senses. All around you, bodies continued to sway in rhythm, laughter and chatter melding into a rush of excitement as strangers burst your private bubble with Mingyu.

“Do you think he saw that?” Even between pants, Mingyu managed to look arrogantly charming, smirking proudly to himself when he realised he’d managed to render you speechless.

You suddenly felt shy, eyes flitting anywhere else but back at him. You took a deep breath, before using what little strength you had left to push him away. 

“Uh, well… I think so, yeah. Thanks, I guess.”

From the corner of your eye, you spotted your ex slinking back onto the dance floor after witnessing your bold display of affection. 

You sighed in relief, slumping onto Mingyu’s tall frame. He chuckled at how comically you do it, an arm wrapping around your waist to support you against him. 

“No, really. Thank you. I think he’s been following me because he thought he still had a chance.” you shudder as you recall the terrifying past month you just had– a stalker ex following everywhere you went. 

Mingyu peppered soft kisses on your neck, making sure to look over your shoulder into the crowd behind you. For good measure, you reasoned to yourself. You balled up your fists on his lapels, anchoring yourself to him. “I might have a solution to both our problems, y/n.” He’s got a finger twirling a piece of your hair now.  “Go out with me. I’ll make him, and all your other problems gone.”

“Oh yeah?” Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Like what?”

“Rumour has it you’re looking for a new place?” Mingyu leaned forward, speaking into your ear. His breath tickled, eliciting a shiver that ran down your spine. The club’s music seemed to muffle his deep voice even more, straining to pick it up amid the constant noise.

He nuzzled deeper into your neck. “C’mon, Y/n-ie. We already get along great with each other. Most people already assume we’re dating anyway.” He took in a deep breath. “Help me stop my parents from sending me on those stupid blind dates. Won’t it be a win-win situation?”

“You want us to fake date?”

“I want us to real date.”

You bit your lip back again. Your voice dropped down to a whisper. “That’s not funny, Gyu. Be serious.”

His smile softens. For a moment, it reminded you of the goofy kid you first befriended in high school.

“Is falling in love with me that bad? I wouldn’t mind loving you, personally.”

You stared back at him hard. It’s hot and humid in Cherries, but Kim Mingyu pulls off the sweaty sexy look way too effortlessly. Brief flashbacks of your short-lived high school crush on your best friend reemerged in your head. Besides… He did help you chase off your ex tonight. Knowing how persistent your ex is though, maybe keeping Mingyu around wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

“Y/n-ie, baby.” You were aware that the both of you were only slightly drunk; sober enough to understand the consequences of your actions, but tipsy enough to act on your desires. Mingyu seemed to pout harder. “Date me, please? I’d rather be with you than anyone else.”

You pretend to ponder a little bit more before finally making a decision. “Fine.” You shook his warm hand in yours, ignoring how your heart fluttered at how his large hand almost engulfed yours. 

“You’ve got a deal, boyfriend.”

divider credit

#mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #kim mingyu #svt fluff #mingyu #seventeen #svt #kim mingyu fluff #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚

[shockercoco]

Unconventional Confessions

Austin Butler x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, fingering/fingering in front of mirror, dirty talk, squirting, oh no he's hot!

Word count - 1759

a/n - It took me 30 minutes to choose a gif and I’m still not happy with it lol. Here's the winner of the poll so I hope you enjoy :)

“So, did you enjoy it?” Austin asks you over the commotion in the theater.

Austin had brought you as his date to the premiere of Dune, a new movie he had a part in. As soon as the credits began rolling, everyone in the audience stood up to applaud the performance of the cast members, including you. Although, your applause was targeted more towards Austin and his performance.

You walked into the movie not expecting to find your boyfriend’s character attractive, like you have in the past with his other roles. After all, he played a pale, bald psychotic sadist with black teeth – someone that most people would be disgusted by. 

Not you, though, because as soon as Feyd came on screen you were drawn in, not just because of how good he looked shirtless, but from his strange and deviant behavior. The way he dragged his tongue against his blade, how unsympathetic he was for human life, how he laughed and drooled in the face of danger all weirdly had an affect on you.

 You noticed this when you felt your insides turn, and when you glanced down at your lap you saw that you had unconsciously crossed your legs. You knew how much Austin takes his career seriously and how easily it was for him to immerse himself into his roles, but you never expected this from him.

“I loved it. The sound, the acting, the cinematography – it was all amazing,” you smile as you turn to look up at him. You’ve always had a love for film, and Austin knew this and loved that about you.

A smile forms on Austin’s face at your response as he leans down to hug you and to place a quick kiss on your lips.

The ride back to the hotel was long due to New York traffic, but Austin decided to take this time to pull up the partition and put you into his lap and kiss you. He always did this in the car after an event or party, and each time you would tell him no, given the fact it was dangerous to not have your seatbelt on, but you always end up caving in the end.

You decide to take a shower when you arrive back at the hotel, not only to get clean, but to calm your nerves. After you get out and begin your skin care, Austin enters the bathroom and wraps his arms around you from behind, placing his chin atop your head.

“I know I already asked you if you liked the movie, but what did you think of me?” he asks as he looks at you through the mirror. Austin would always overthink when it came to his acting and would come to you for reassurance.

“You were great, just like you always are,” you tell him as you continue on with your routine.

He groans and gives your hips a squeeze. “Come on, you gotta give me more than that.”

You smile at him through the mirror. “I really enjoyed your performance, given the fact you’ve never done anything like that. You were unrecognizable, and not just because of the makeup,” you laughed,” Your deduction really paid off.”

You watch as Austin beams at your response. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Anything else?” he asks you.

Yes, yes there is.

“Well, I may or may not have found Feyd attractive, even though he’s mentally unstable. Too bad we won’t see him in the next movie.” you fake sadness towards the end. You talk casually as if what you said was minor.

You watch as Austin lights up and lifts his head. He raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Is that right?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head, “it just sucks that you’re not him.”

And you guess that set him off because next thing you know he’s pulling you even closer into him as he places soft kisses on your neck. You laugh and playfully try to shove him off, but Austin just laughs into your ear and continues as one his hands begins to slowly travel south. When you feel his hand reach the waistband of your pajama shorts you freeze. You look at Austin through the mirror to see that his gaze is already on you, a sly smile showing on his face.

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m a little busy right now,” you joke.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. Just pretend I’m not even here,” he says without taking his eyes away from yours. You stare back at him for a second before starting the last step of your routine – brushing your teeth. Austin keeps his focus on your face.

Just as you were reaching for your toothbrush, his hand dips inside your shorts and stops when his fingers reach your clit over your underwear. You tightly grip the toothbrush in your hand when you feel his fingers start to lightly rub circles into you through the fabric. You can already feel yourself getting wet from the teasing, warmth pooling in your lower half. As you reach for the toothpaste, he adds more pressure to your clit, and you clench your teeth to keep the sounds in your throat from escaping.

Austin smirks to himself once he notices the tension in your jaw, which you feel as it forms on his lips that are still attached to your neck. When you reach for the toothpaste, he begins to glide his fingers up and down your slit through your underwear, feeling the damp fabric.

As you begin to squeeze the toothpaste on your toothbrush, you feel Austin’s hand quickly dip inside the waistband of your underwear and collect your arousal on his fingers before spreading it through your folds. This time you can’t stop the moan from escaping your lips as your mouth falls open.

“I said don’t stop,” he whispers into your ear and ends the sentence with a kiss behind your ear, causing a shiver to make its way through your body. You look at him in the mirror to see his eyes still on you, feeling another wave of heat run through your body from the eye contact.

You go to squeeze the toothpaste on your toothbrush only to feel Austin shove a finger into your opening. You have to brace yourself against the counter as you feel your walls welcome him in, but Austin keeps his finger still inside of you, waiting for you to continue. 

When you lift the toothbrush to your lips with an unsteady hand, he pushes a second finger into you. Another moan leaves your mouth as you feel yourself stretch around him, and once you feel his fingers move inside you, you immediately drop the toothbrush and toothbrush for it to land in the sink. There’s no way you can carry on now.

Austin laughs at your reaction and continues to thrust his fingers inside of you as he finally lifts his head away from the crease of your neck to fully watch your facial expressions. He gradually increases the speed of his fingers and tightly wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist when you begin to squirm against his front. You feel his hard length against your backside, turning you on even more, but your main focus is the fingers pushing in and out of you with persistence.

You place one hand back on the counter and use the other to cling onto the arm around your waist. You feel your head drop and your eyes squeeze shut as whines fall out of your mouth, but Austin isn’t a fan of this. He removes the arm from your waist and grips your chin, forcing you to look up.

“Keep your eyes open,” he says, and you whine at his words. 

“Austin-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Keep your eyes open.”

You pry your eyes open and look at the hand moving in your shorts. Austin gives your chin another squeeze and pushes it up for you to look at him through the mirror. He smirks at your present state, and if it wasn’t for him currently pleasing you, you would slap that smirk off his face. He knows you hate prolonged eye contact.

“You fall apart so easily, don’t you?” he asks, and you weren’t aware he wanted you to answer until he repeats, “don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out.

His fingers arrive at that special spongy spot inside of you, making your body jerk and your jaw go slack. He continuously hits the area with precision as he curls his fingers into you. His arm finds its place around your waist again once you start to writhe against him. You squeal as he speeds his fingers up even more, causing wet squelches to fall out of your soaked cunt, the sound echoing in your ears.

You feel the pressure in your quickly building up, and you close your eyes again – it’s taking too much energy to continue holding them open. This time Austin lets you. One of your hands moves down towards his wrist, but he quickly grabs it and holds against you as his arm wraps around you once again. Your thighs squeeze together as the pressure becomes too much and you come closer and closer to your climax, but this doesn’t stop him.

Austin feels your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers, and he does everything to make you fall over the edge. You let out a silent cry as your orgasm makes its way through your limbs.

He continues to push his fingers in and out of you to prolong your pleasure, and you let out a cry as you feel a gush of liquid fall out of you. It soaks your underwear and shorts as it makes its way down your leg. Austin still doesn’t let up on his pace so you go to squeeze his wrist, and he begins to slow his movements.

When he finally stops, he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up to his mouth to suck the taste of you off. Despite your energy being drained, you still manage to roll your eyes at him.

“Come on, sweetheart, round two in the bedroom. You need to lay down, your legs must be tired from standing,” he smirks and gives you a wink as he backs away from you and heads out the bathroom.

You grab the tube of toothpaste from the sink and chuck it at his head, but you miss, making Austin laugh.

#austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #austin butler #austin butler imagine #smut #feyd rautha x reader #dune part 2 #feyd rautha #feyd rautha smut

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You've been the Twins' handler for years now, and when Tangerine blows up at you one evening after a mission, he apologizes in an unconventional way.

Epilogue

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: implied fuck boy!Tangerine, bitchy!Tangerine in the beginning, reader is named Peach, unprotected sex, passionate sex, not much foreplay (they're desperate lmao), swearing, insecurities, praise kink, degradation, emotional, Tangerine is all over the place and bad with his feelings!

~ i'm so sorry i feel like this took forever <3 enjoy! @j23r23 ~

"He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not," you smile, your nails drumming on the desk as you pick at the petals of the roses in the jar near your computer. "Ah ha, he loves me. Knew you were so full of shit," you hum happily. 

"Piss off," Tangerine loudly grunts in your ear and you tilt your head, scrunching your nose. You've told him not to yell like that—you've warned him that the earpiece is sensitive and you'll lose your hearing if he continues like this—but he never listens.

Being the Twins handler for almost four years now you've learned how to deal with their quirks.

Lemon, as ruthless as he is, is too trusting. He's also loyal to a fault and he'd die for Tangerine in seconds; something you've had to account for in your missions so it doesn't happen. 

Tangerine on the other hand? Recklessness under the guise of control. He'd burn the entire world down for Lemon without hesitation, his temper as bright as the flames of a wildfire.

Unexplainably however, you were drawn to him the most.

While he pushes your buttons like no one else, you also tend to push him in ways that leave him wanting—no needing—more.

"Tan," you warn again, "don't talk so loudly, they'll hear you!"

"Stop your yapping in my ear then, luv," Tangerine snaps, his comment snarky and you hear a loud humph as it sounds like someone crashes into something.

Tangerine sounds out of breath and you use your mouse to click on the map on your computer. You zoom in and ask, "Where's Lem? You aren't supposed to meet any security for a while—"

"He's busy, darlin'. And your little shortcut turned out to be not so short after all," Tangerine says and you hear a loud grunt. It's obvious he's in the middle of a fight.

Your blood runs cold as you chew on your lip. Your hands quickly dance over the keyboard as you try and find another way for them—an easier way—

"Hey, Peach, will ya stop breathing so damn loudly, it's distracting me," Tangerine's voice interrupts your worry and you hold your breath when you hear a loud thwap and then a grunt—immediately accompanied by cursing and more hoarse shouts. 

"Tangerine!" his name spills from your lips as you hear louder blows. "Tan?" you whisper when the line disconnects and a low buzz is heard in your ear. You fumble to discard the earpiece onto the desk in front of you and then you focus on finding Lemon. 

If anyone can help Tangerine, it's Lemon.

With a frown, you activate the tracker you'd promised not to slip into Lemon's jacket, and a little red light blinks on your computer screen. He's not far from where Tangerine is. You lean over and connect to the microphone on your computer.

"Lemon?!" 

You hear a crack and then the shuffling of clothes against the microphone in the tracker. "Peach?" Lemon grunts, "Ya cheeky lil' bird, I told ya not to track me," he lets out a breathy laugh, and another smack is heard, "Fuck me, these fuckers just don't die easily!" 

"Lem? Where's Tan?" you ask, seeing that the tracker Tangerine wears voluntarily on his suit hasn't moved in a while. "Is he okay? I think the earpiece broke."

Something must have happened to his tracker too if it's malfunctioning.

"Yeah, which is why I say I should wear it—but he's bossy and he's your favorite," Lemon says. 

"I don't have favorites!" you insist, your cheeks burning.

"Sure, whatever," Lemon chuckles and then adds, "Ah, speaking of the devil—I can see 'im now. Damn, he's beat up ain't he. Bullocks. Y'know your little plan was shit, Peach, security swarmed us almost immediately!"  

You pinch your eyes and guilt settles in your stomach. "I know, I know, I'm sorry,"

You hear Tangerine's voice distantly as he grumbles, "Fuckin' arsehole broke my earpiece when he punched me—I lost contact with Peach," he complains and you hear shuffling. Your stomach fills with unwanted butterflies at the sound of his voice and how your codename rolls off his tongue. 

"She can hear ya," Lemon says, his smirk evident in his tone, "Say hello, Peach."

"She tracked ya?" 

"Yeah, and bugged me too apparently."

 "What the fuck, my tracker doesn't do that," Tangerine says and you hear an infliction in his voice. 

"Yeah, cauz you always have the earpiece."

"Because she likes me better,"

"That's what I said!!" 

"Oi, you wankers, I can still hear you," you interrupt, "Will you just come back to the van now? The mission's a bust," you finish. While they continue to bicker for a moment, Lemon finally shuts down the tracker—by breaking it you assume—idiot—and it isn't until the van door slams open that you hear and see them again. 

"Oi, now you're takin' the piss," Tangerine exclaims, glaring at his brother as he runs a hand through his mussed hair. He enters the van and you stand. Your eyes scan over his appearance; his suit is torn and bloodied and he has a gaping cut on his forehead. His ear is also bleeding from when you assume the broken earpiece had shattered. 

"Christ," you whisper and walk over to him. Lemon smirks as he walks by the both of you and collapses onto the second chair near your desk. He's less beat up than Tangerine—who'd taken on more men you assume—but you remind yourself to check on him later anyway.

Tangerine senses you come up to him and he tenses when you hold his cheeks in your hands and check his wounds. "Tan, this looks bad," you say. 

"Peach, I'm fine," he grumbles and turns his head away. He sounds grumpier than usual.

"Look, I'm sorry—I'm sorry I messed up, I—"

Suddenly, Tangerine explodes. His hand comes up around his ears as he scrunches up his nose. "Will ya just stop talkin' for one fuckin' second?!" he yells and even Lemon, who had been a silent bystander to the conversation, looks up from where he's bandaging his hand. 

Your eyes widen and you blink at Tangerine. "W-what?"

He presses his index on his temple and narrows his eyes at you. "I have a fuckin' headache 'cause of you and you talkin' my fuckin' ear off all the damn time! And now I can barely hear because it's ringing so fuckin' hard!" he points to the blood inside his ear. 

You flinch at his tone and try to control the tears threatening to spill as he harshly berates you. 

"Right," is all you say, "sorry," your voice sounds small and you push by him and out to the front of the van to start the engine. 

* * * 

When you arrive outside their house—well, your house too since you've been living with them for the past three months—you don't talk to Tangerine. You don't even look at him.

Instead, without a word, you walk up to your room, tears still brimming, and slam the door behind you. 

Your stomach hurts and your nails dig into your palms as you run a shower. You desperately want to wash away any memory of what happened tonight. 

It isn't uncommon for you and Tangerine to fight—but he's never shouted like that and never in response to your worry.

Once you finish with your shower and walk out of the bathroom, just a towel wrapped around your body, you jump when you see Tangerine standing in the middle of your room.

He'd clearly freshened up too but, unlike yours, his hair is freshly dried. You aren't surprised—you know he hates sleeping with it when it's wet. 

He's wearing a casual pair of beige slacks and a white T-shirt. The fabric strains against the muscles in his arms as he crosses them across his chest and you look up, feeling a burn in your cheeks.

Tangerine's ear has been bandaged and his cuts and bruises look kindly tended to. Lemon, you assume, he's always been soft on his brother even when he's acting like a jerk. 

Tangerine is staring at you intensely, his blue eyes shining a shade darker than usual. 

"Shit, stop being creepy," you grumble, holding your towel tightly around yourself. "Have you come to say you're sorry for acting like a prick or just stare a hole into my head?"

Tangerine's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. He stalks closer to you, pink lips parted and his hands find your hair near your nape. He pulls you in, seemingly unbothered by the squeal you make or how you're unable to move your hands to push him away. 

Not that you'd want to push him away anyway.

"The fuck you think you're doing?" you hiss, staring at him, "have you gone mad?"

Tangerine just continues to stare into your soul. "You're so damn annoying," he mutters.  

"I'll scream and Lemon will come and beat the shit out of you," you threaten, challenging him. You know Lemon would never do such a thing and you'd be a fool to scream. 

"But, fuck me, I like you so damn much," he finishes his sentence, and then his lips find yours. His hand tightens in your hair as he kisses you. There's no tenderness in his kiss, no hesitation or remorse, just pure passion as he wraps his arms around you and holds your back as he pulls your chest to his. 

You clutch the towel, making sure it feels secure, and kiss him back. You make a small sound behind his lips but you can't deny the heat in the kiss or how badly your stomach tightens just right. The steam coming from your bathroom is taunting as it surrounds you; sticky and warm. 

"Tan," you mumble as his hand comes around your jaw and he turns your head to kiss your neck. 

"Shut up," he growls, "you talk too damn much." He squeezes his eyes shut and the words fall easily from his lips as they press to your skin.

"God, you don't understand how hard it is for me; hearing your sweet voice in my ear while I'm trying not to get fuckin' stabbed or shot to death! You don't know what you do to me, darlin'. You have no fuckin' clue. It's fuckin' torture," he says as his hand tightens in your hair and you whimper.

"Tan, m-my towel," you tell him, struggling to hold it up as his body presses against yours.

This makes Tangerine snap out of whatever trance he's in for a moment and he looks down at you. His eyes have softened just a little and his tone is sultry when he asks, "Let it fall. I don't care. Do you?" His lips quirk up. "I've dreamt of you naked a thousand times, luv."

Your eyes round at the intensity of his words. You want to tell him to fuck off—that you've never thought of him like this. Never imagined his lips on yours or the way he'd feel inside you. But then you'd be a liar, and you aren't a liar. 

Instead, you drop the towel, your eyes still intensely locked onto his. The cold air sends a shiver up your spine and Tangerine's hands find the skin on your back instead of the towel. His eyes haven't left yours and he looks surprised that you'd done it. He hasn't looked down and his cheeks have turned a dusty pink. 

"What?" you move your hands up to his cheeks and hold them, "you said you'd dreamt of this. Well?" With as much confidence as you can muster, tilt his head to your naked body. You can feel your hands tremble against his cheeks, all kinds of insecurities and uncertainties bubbling inside you and just as you're going to pull away from sheer embarrassment, Tangerine speaks; 

"Fuckin' hell, you look so much better than in my imagination," his hands slide up the curves of your hips and breasts. His touch is surprisingly gentle for how passionate he'd been in the beginning.

You watch as his eyes roam around your body and he runs a hand over his jaw, staring at you with pure admiration. "You belong in a fuckin' museum," he whispers behind his hand. 

"Alright, lover boy," you roll your eyes and shift to move away but his hands find your hips and he hoists you up into his arms. You gasp, your arms finding his shoulders and your legs cling to his waist as your wet hair sprinkles water over his face. It's a weird position to be in considering you're naked.

"Tangerine!" you cry as he carries you over to your bed and you squeal when he drops you and hovers over you. 

"Let me worship you, darlin'," he whispers as his knee slides in between your legs and he kisses your lips again. He disconnects them and looks at you seriously, "Please," he pleads and your eyes widen.

Tangerine never says please.

You find yourself nodding, too lost in the haze of it all to hear the small voice in your head screaming how stupid this is.

He'll throw you away after. He doesn't care. He'll hurt you. He'll break your heart! 

You kiss him again, his lips moving against yours rhythmically. You're so lost in pleasure that when he sits up on his heels to strip his shirt, you whine and grasp at his arms. "Shhh, I'm here, dove," he chuckles, enjoying the power he has over you. When he leans over you to kiss you again, this time your hands find his abs and you can't help but explore them. 

"You countin' them, luv?" he chuckles after a moment and his lips find your nipples as he squeezes one of your breasts in his hands. You make an embarrassed sound that quickly turns into a moan when he positions your hips just right so the fabric of his slacks hits your clit. 

"I know, I know," Tangerine teases as he senses how needy you're becoming. "Shit, you're just a little slut, aren't ya, luv? Knew you'd wear those dresses to tempt me—didn't ya?"

You nod. You had. You didn't think it worked—he always played it so cool.

"You should know I would wank one out after seeing you—your thighs so visible and," he pauses and uses his hands to spread you open until he sees what he wants, "and that pretty pussy. So fuckin' pretty—

—you let me have a peek sometimes didn't you, naughty girl? Knew you did it on purpose," Tangerine says. He sounds satisfied with himself that he'd found you out and his grin widens when you nod. 

"Just for you," you whisper, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Tan," you whine, you're already so wet for him. 

"What do you want, hm? Tell me," he smirks and dips his head down to kiss your neck as his hands wander around your skin. He sits back up and removes his slacks and boxers. Your eyes downturn on his cock and you bite your lip. God, is he really this beautiful everywhere? How fucking unfair. 

Tangerine's hand comes up to your chin, "Where do you want me?" 

You look into his eyes, unsure how to ask him for what you want. Tangerine smiles, his thumb touching your lip. He's gentle, his eyes softer now, "Peach," he leans in and kisses just behind your ear. You shiver. "It's okay. Tell me where you want me," he smiles against your skin. 

"Inside me," you say, your voice small

Tangerine hums and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Where inside you, luv? I want to hear you say it for me."

You feel your cheeks warm and you stare up at him. "In my pussy," you say and Tangerine's eyes light up and he smirks.

"My pleasure," he says and shifts his hips until you feel his cock press against your pussy. He feels you tense as your hands tighten around his shoulder.

"Hey, it's just me," he says, pushing in slower now. He looks concerned as one of his hands finds your hair and pushes the strands away from your eyes.

Yeah, that's the issue, you want to tell him but you just nod, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Look at me," he says as he pushes inside you fully. You gasp, arching into him and your breathing becomes harsh. He's so thick and long. Tangerine doesn't move and you let out a whine, your eyelids fluttering. "I said, look at me. I won't move until you look at me, darlin'," he whispers sternly. 

When you finally look at him he smiles, "Do you trust me? I'm not gonna hurt you—promise." 

You nod, biting your lip. Of course, you trust him. "I trust you," you answer breathlessly. 

"Good girl," Tangerine praises and kisses your forehead. He starts to move his hips, pulling in and out of you with torturous strokes. He feels so good.

As he fucks you, he leans his forehead on yours, occasionally whispering praises into your ear as he tells you how pretty you look with him buried inside you. 

"So fuckin' pretty with my cock inside your pussy, hmm," he grunts, continuing the pounding of his hips. "You close, luv? Already?" He teases you with a smirk and kisses your lips. You let out small moans, skin warm and sticky as you nod. 

"Good," he smiles and uses his thumb to rub your clit, adding pressure as he fucks into you. "So good for me. All for me, hmm?" 

"Y-yes," you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Open your eyes, Peach," he demands and you do so instantly. "I want to look into your eyes when you come apart around me."

With that, the tension breaks inside you. Your body feels weak from the pleasure and your chest rises and falls rapidly once your high finishes. You let yourself relax into the mattress for a moment, ignoring the sudden stream of thoughts—good and bad—that race into your mind. Tangerine's lips touch your forehead again and then he pulls out, finishing on your stomach with a grunt. 

You blink, feeling the bed dip and then his warmth disappears. You panic a little but you're too weak to move. If he wants to leave, let him, you convince yourself as you stare at the ceiling. However, when you feel something cold and wet across your stomach, you flinch and scramble to sit up. 

Your eyes are wide and Tangerine pauses, removing the washcloth from your skin. He frowns a little, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly. You stare at him. He's still shirtless but he's pulled up his trousers.

"You aren't leaving?" you ask, looking around the room and you suddenly feel very bare. 

Tangerine's frown deepens but he doesn't speak for a moment as he washes away his cum from your skin and, after discarding the washcloth, he reaches behind him to hand you his shirt. You accept it without thinking and put it on, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continue to stare at him. 

He shifts, sitting beside you with one leg off the bed. He still hasn't answered and you start to feel an impending pit in your stomach. 

"Why would I leave?" he asks calmly, his voice doesn't have a hint of concern in its tone. 

You fiddle nervously with the hem of his shirt, looking down. Your hair, now half-dried, is a mess from the pillows and you push it down and around your ears in an effort to compose yourself in front of him. "Well, I- I just assumed that you would—" 

Tangerine tilts his head. "You think I would fuck and ditch, did ya? Ya think so low of me, Peach?" It feels like he sounds almost amused.

You shake your head but your nerves don't stop. "I mean, what do you expect me to think, Tangerine?" you look into his eyes and continue, "You come in here, all pissed at me—you yelled at me earlier and made me feel all shitty about myself—and then out of nowhere you kiss me and then we—"

"Fuck." Tangerine finishes bluntly. 

You narrow your eyes at him. "Yeah, that," you let out a breath, "So, please, tell me. What am I supposed to think? What do you want from me now? Because I can't be one of your fuck toys, Tan. I refuse to be that girl. I- I care about you—" you feel your emotions get caught in your throat and you feel your eyes sting. Furiously, you wipe your eyes with your hands, refusing to cry in front of him. 

Tangerine hasn't said a word. He's looking at you but you can't read his expression. You hate it. You shut your eyes, ready to call it quits, and tell him to leave, but then you feel the bed dip again and you feel his hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes snap open.

"Don't cry," he whispers, his thumb sliding under your eyes and catching your tears, "Please, don't cry because of a stupid bastard like me," he cracks a smile, hoping you'll smile too but when you don't and he sighs, "Okay, I was a dick, a real fuckin' dick, and you didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry." 

You nod, still listening to him, "You really were a dick," you whisper. 

Tangerine chuckles and nods too. "Yeah. I was," he pauses and moves his thumb across your cheeks as if admiring you some more, "Do ya really believe I'd fuck ya for this to be a one-time thing, luv? That I'd just throw ya away after?"

Your cheeks feel warm. "I- I don't know," 

"You do know. You think I would do that to ya," Tangerine says, his voice low. 

"I mean—that's what you do don't you? I've known you for years, Tan. All those girls—"

Tangerine suddenly laughs and his hands drop from your face. "Peach, you aren't those girls," he says, suddenly serious, "I wasn't just making it up when I said how hard it is for me to listen to you in my ear all the time. Not because you're annoying—which sometimes you are but that's beside the point—but because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years. You're all I goddamn think about. Do you understand how hard that is for me?"

You just frown, shaking your head a little. "No. This doesn't make sense. Why now—why not yesterday? Or months ago? Or years ago?"

 Tangerine runs a hand in his hair and lets out a breath. "Because I didn't want to but I snapped, I snapped, okay? I'm not fuckin' proud of it. I yelled at you and I felt so bad after I didn't know what to do with myself anymore—

—you're always there for Lem and me, and I realized, after that fuckin' earpiece broke, that I hated not having your pretty voice in my ear anymore. It felt like I'd lost you—do you have any idea how scared that made me feel, even when I knew it was irrational and that you were completely safe?" His words come out jumbled and strained. "I fuckin' hated it, I hated feeling like that so I snapped," he finishes. 

You stare at him, his words hitting you hard. You've never seen him like this and it scares you, but it also turns you on some more. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? "And I'm sorry. I am. I would never throw you away. I don't want to throw you away after this—especially after fucking you—that's the last thing I would want! I– I-" 

You stare at him some more, your eyes wide, "You what—?"

Tangerine pauses, "I love you," he says, articulating every word so you hear him clearly. 

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"As in love love?"

"Fuckin' hell Peach, ya want me to scream it at ya or somethin'? I'm in love with ya. I love ya more than anythin' I fuckin' have. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."

All your anger, doubt, and shame instantly vanished into thin air. He loves you. All this time he'd loved and he was just shit at expressing his emotions? You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as happiness overwhelms you. 

"Are ya laughing at me?" Tangerine's voice cuts in the air and you focus on him. He looks surprised and hurt. 

Your smile falters and you shake your head. There is so much you want to tell him that you're at a loss for words. He looks so pretty like this, sitting in front of you, and your hands find his cheek instead of using words.

Your fingers skim the bandage that's still wrapped around his ear and you want to ask him if it still hurts. You want to ask him so many things. He's staring at you, chest heaving, and you don't think as you kiss him. 

It's softer than the previous passionate kiss you'd shared. Only, Tangerine reacts with as much eagerness as earlier. His hands find your back and he presses you against him, your lips sliding against yours. It's intense and lovely all in the same. 

"I love you too," you say quietly between kisses. 

"Say it louder," Tangerine suddenly hums, his eyes shut in pleasure. You think he needs you to talk louder because one of his ears is bandaged and hurt.

So, you do as he asks and it earns you another kiss, however when Tangerine mutters, "I wanna hear ya say it again," you know he heard you fine. His voice is so love sick you just grin and wrap your arms around him, your hands bunching in his curls.

"I love you, Tangerine," you say breathlessly, "I love you."

"You have no idea how happy ya just made ma, luv," he responds instantly, running his hand over your cheek as he looks into your eyes. "God, I'd die for ya," he mutters and you frown, slapping his arm a little. 

"Don't talk about you dying, you git," you reprimand, and Tangerine smirks. 

He kisses your neck and with a teasing tone he reassures you, "Ya have nothin' to worry about, luv. I'd much rather live for you. You have all of my heart, darlin'. It's all yours," he guides your hand to press your palm against his chest and you feel how quickly his heart is beating.

"This beats for you."

You smile and kiss his lips once more as you bring his other hand to your chest too. "And I'm yours," you whisper. "Only yours."

And until then, you'd never seen Tangerine's grin widen as widely as it did when you said those words. 

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