#though they only managed to throw in some hand and arm gestures

[ni-kol-koru]

Akashi Seijūrō Birthday

December 20th 2022 : Happy birthday to the Emperor 👑

#kuroko no basuke #knb #kurobas #kuroko no basket #the basketball which kuroko plays #kurokos basketbal #rakuzan #my art #fanart #akashi seijuurou #akashi seijuro #mayuzumi chihiro #nebuya eikichi #hayama kotaro #hayama kotarou #mibuchi reo #this is a little different #mayuzumi caught juurou off guard and wanted to take a quick birthday picture #the uncrowned kings joined in quickly #though they only managed to throw in some hand and arm gestures #theyre there though #this was funnn #i love it too #also the 'filter' that i drew on pic 2 was some random snapchat birthday filter i downloaded off google #birthday drawing

[colormepurplex2]

Shatter With Me | Please, Let Me

↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader ⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend’s Husband ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 28,134 ⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, BIG hurt feelings, accusations of infidelity, rejected/unwanted drunken kissing that could be viewed as dubious infidelity, lies/deceit about fertility, broken marriage, infidelity, talk of divorce/filing for divorce, legal separation, kissing, fingering, cunnilingus, mild dirty talk, mild begging, sex while pregnant, creampie

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You should be dreaming, but an incessant sound keeps pulling you back to the surface of consciousness. Rolling over, you check your phone to see what time it is—2 AM. It takes a moment, but you manage to blink away your sleepy fog and realize the noise is someone rapidly knocking on your door.

“Taehyung, what the hell are you doing here?”

Taehyung looks rumpled, his hair tousled and the soft skin beneath his eyes a deeper shade than usual. He sighs heavily and takes a step back from your doorway. “Because,” he says, throwing a hand out in a gesture towards the floor.

Stepping forward, awkward with the temporary boot on your foot, you lean out into the hall to look at what he’s pointing at. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?”

Jungkook is slumped against the wall, his legs sprawled out in front of him. It takes you only a second to realize his shoulders are jumping in quiet, hiccuping sobs.

“Can we come in?” Taehyung asks. “It’s a long story, and I’m tired as shit right now.”

“Well, sure, okay.”

Taehyung gratefully accepts your help, though you’re not sure how much good you do with a bum foot, getting Jungkook through the door. He flops limply on your couch when Taehyung slides his arm from around Jungkook’s waist.

“What the hell happened? Is he drunk?” you ask, recoiling at the stench of whiskey you catch wafting from Jungkook. “Why did you bring him here? Where’s Jiyoon—”

“No!” Taehyung gasps, flailing a hand through the air to cut you off. “Don’t say her name. Please, you’ll set him off again.”

“Too late,” Jungkook sobs from the couch, curling in on himself.

A tug on your shirtsleeve has you turning away from Jungkook. Taehyung jerks his head toward your kitchen and you follow him in there. Worry settles in your chest with the look on his face.

“It’s not good,” he whispers.

“What happened?”

Keeping his voice pitched low, Taehyung fills you in the best he can. “He knocked on my door a few hours ago, completely out of his mind. I was barely able to get him to stop screaming and crying long enough to tell me. And then he downed half my liquor cabinet in less than half an hour.” Taehyung pauses and you can tell he’s collecting himself before continuing, “Jiyoon told him that her baby isn’t his. She’s completely shattered him.”

A tightness grips your chest, your heart pounding hard. You shake your head. “No, no. That can’t be right. Jiyoon wouldn’t—she…she loves him.”

Taehyung scoffs, “She loves what he represents. Don’t pretend we both don’t know all she cared about when they met was that he was a hotshot model with a bright future full of dollar signs.”

“Taehyung, no. I’ve known Jiyoon for most of my life. We’ve been friends since we were kids. She wouldn’t do that.”

The pained way Taehyung says your name tugs at your heart. “I’m going to be honest here, and I need you to know what I say is coming from a place of care. Jiyoon isn’t a nice person. She’s not a good friend—especially not to you. Don’t,” he says when you open your mouth to protest. “I know you care about her, but from what Jungkook told me, she said some really nasty things, about him…and you.”

“Me?”

“She accused him of having an affair with you, that you slept together, and that’s how you got pregnant. That was how she eventually told him about her affair, that her baby wasn’t his. It’s a fucking mess…he’s a mess.”

You have to stifle your incredulous laughter. “You can’t be serious.”

Taehyung puts a hand on your shoulder and turns you to look at where Jungkook is still curled up on your couch, his face buried in one of your throw pillows, body steadily trembling. “I’m serious.”

His words settle like a heavy weight right over the center of your chest. That tightness that was there before increases until you feel like you can barely breathe. “I-I need to talk to Jiyoon. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, a mistake.”

You go to take a step toward the hallway to retrieve your cell phone from your bedroom but Taehyung’s hand tightening on your shoulder halts your movement. “Maybe it’s best to leave it for now. At least until he’s lucid again. I don’t mean to drop this on your lap, but he wouldn’t stop begging to come here…to come see you, see the baby.”

The baby that he knows is his. Taehyung doesn’t say that, but it echoes through your mind as if he’d shouted it. You’re not sure what to believe at this point. The only things you know for certain are your own actions. It would be easy to crumble right now, to let the weight of everything crush you. But the crying man on your sofa—the one who is not just your client nor your friend’s husband anymore, but who has managed to become someone far more significant in your life and not just because of the baby growing inside you—reinforces the steel in your spine. There will be time to deal with everything else later.

“Okay,” you say to Taehyung. “Thank you for bringing him.” 

After seeing Taehyung out and promising to call him if you need anything, you email Namjoon that you’ll be working on a client case from home tomorrow. For obvious reasons, you intentionally leave out that the client is Jungkook and that the case is one of a broken heart instead of an ad campaign.

You told Taehyung you wouldn't reach out to Jiyoon yet, but you are curious if she’s perhaps tried to reach out to you. The lack of messages waiting for you on your phone is another small crack in the fissures of your waning friendship with Jiyoon. What you didn’t tell Taehyung is that you’ve been feeling this way for a while. You know Jiyoon isn’t always a nice person. But she was still your friend, someone you had spent years of your life loving and being loved by in return. Or so you thought, at least.

With a sigh, you slowly approach the couch, kneeling down beside it. Jungkook stopped crying before Taehyung left, having fallen into a fitful drunken sleep. His body is still wracked with tremors, and his breathing wheezes from between his lips, sounding labored. You gently push his hair out of his face, feeling a pang of sadness at how blotchy and puffed his eyes are even when closed. A red mark mars the side of his jaw, subtle bruising in the distinct rounded curve of small, slender fingertips—she hit him.

“Mm,” Jungkook groans softly, your name rasping out with the sound.

“I’m here.”

His shoulders jump as the quiet sobbing returns. “I’m so sorry,” he chokes through the words. “Please don’t leave me, too!”

“Hey, hey, none of that. You have nothing to be sorry for. Come here,” you coo, helping him sit up so you can sit where his head was on the couch. You open your arms to accept him into an embrace so you can try to console him in some way.

Jungkook launches himself at you. You think it’s a mistake made in haste, his lips landing on yours. But with the gentle way he cups your face and begins to move his mouth in a sensual pluck over yours, you realize what’s happening—what you can’t allow to happen, not now.

“No—uh, no. This isn’t—” You pull back from him, managing to get a hand between your mouths. “Jungkook, no. We can’t do this. You’re hurting,” you say slowly, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his glassy ones. “You’re confused right now, and you’ve been drinking. This isn’t what you want. This isn’t you, no matter what anyone else says.”

Tears course down Jungkook’s cheeks and it breaks your heart to see him hurting like this. “Sorry—” he clears his throat “—yes, you’re right. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m such a fucking asshole. Jiyoon was right—”

“No. No, she’s not right, Jungkook. Whatever she told you, it’s not right. She’s not right,” you confirm again. “You’ve done nothing wrong. No matter what, know that.”

With a choking sob, he slumps forward into your arms, and you soothe him by running a hand over his hair. Resting back as best you can, you bring your legs up on the couch alongside Jungkook, being mindful of the small boot on your foot, and help him maneuver so he’s lying down beside you, head in your lap.

“What am I going to do?” Jungkook whispers into the silence that follows after a few tightly strung beats.

You try to sound reassuring, but you’re not sure you sound convincing even to your own ears, “It’s going to be okay, Jungkook. I promise we’ll get all of this figured out.”

Even if you’re not sure how you’ll accomplish that, you know you’ll do whatever you can to help Jungkook. This isn’t just his problem; it’s partly yours, too. After all, he’s the father of the child growing inside you and will be a part of your life even after the birth.

“Hi,” Jungkook whispers so softly that it takes you a moment to realize he spoke at all. “It’s me, your dad.” You can feel his lips brushing against your stomach through your nightshirt; he’s talking to the baby. “I love you so much already, and I swear I’ll never leave you…baby boy”

A boy.

You and Jungkook both cried happy tears at the hospital earlier after the tech swiveled the screen back around. It made everything feel that much more real. You vowed to bring life into this world for him and Jiyoon. Whether or not she’ll be in the picture further, you can’t let that color your actions moving forward with Jungkook. He still wants this baby—so do you—and that’s what matters.

Jungkook nuzzles against your hip and presses his face more fully against the side of the gentle swell of your belly. One of his arms wraps around the underside to rest on your opposite hip.

Sleep evades you long after Jungkook falls back into a less troubled slumber than before. Occasionally, he mutters under his breath and his hand flexes against your hip like he’s fighting invisible demons. You can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through, what his dreams are plagued with…all you can do is promise that no matter the darkness brewing, you’ll remain by his side for as long as he’ll let you.

You can only afford yourself the one day off of work and Jungkook assures you that he is okay on his own. It’s still a little weird to have him staying at your place, but only because neither of you has brought up that night since it all went down. That was three days ago now and you know when you go into the office today that Jiyoon is going to be there. It’s an inevitability of working together, crossing paths with coworkers. It was lucky that she was out of the office all day yesterday.

Taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself for the elevator doors to slide open. As soon as they do, it seems like a hush falls in the office. It feels like your first day of school or something, with the way eyes track you as you make your way to your desk. Something has changed, the atmosphere between yesterday and today is different, and you can’t shake the foreboding feeling now working its way down your throat.

“How embarrassing,” titters a familiar, snide voice from behind you. “Can you imagine showing up to work after what happened?”

Dani laughs at something Sooah, one of the other portfolio managers in the office, says. You can’t quite make it out, but that doesn’t stop the skin along your arms from pimpling and the hair on the nape of your neck from standing on end. Maybe if you go and ask now, feigning some pregnancy-related symptom, Namjoon will let you go home.

“Can you be a bit more professional, Dani? And you know better than to encourage her, Sooah.” The voice of Hyeonwoo from accounting chimes in as he briskly crosses the space between Sooah’s cubicle and continues past yours. “Namjoon doesn’t approve of office gossip, and it’s not above me to ask if he’d care to hear the latest little bird song.”

It seems everyone knows what’s going on, so you shouldn’t be surprised. But you can’t help but feel a little jolt of shock. Jiyoon shares most things with Dani, who has the biggest, loudest mouth in the office. You’d think Jiyoon would have wanted something like her marital problems not to be aired to the entire company.

“No clue what you’re talking about, Hyeonwoo. We were just reading this ‘Am I The Asshole’ thread on Reddit,” Dani sasses, grinning like a Cheshire cat when her eyes flicker to yours over the divider around your desk. “‘Am I the asshole for missing my pregnant wife’s very important doctor’s appointment because I was too busy playing hospital with her best friend, who just so happens to also be pregnant with my baby’. Only he claims it’s ‘not like that’.”

Sooah covers her laugh with a cough. Heat brushes up your neck, and embarrassment laced with a healthy dose of anger simmers in your stomach. They’re talking about you, yes, but that’s not what’s bothering you the most. What hurts more than anything is they seem so callous in talking about your pregnancy—the pregnancy you have because you wanted to help your best friend.

“Oh, Dani, Sooah, Hyeonwoo is right. Stop acting like children talking about things you know nothing about.” Jiyoon’s voice cuts through the uncomfortable silence. “That’s in poor taste, and you both should apologize.” She approaches your desk with a strained smile on her face. “Hey. Don’t listen to them.”

You chew on the inside of your lip before quietly responding, “Because it’s not true?”

“Because they’re just joking, even if they’re not very good at it.”

It’s impossible to know what to say. Jiyoon is talking to you as if there isn’t this giant gaping chasm named Jungkook between the two of you. “A joke?” Waving a hand in the air to dismiss that line of thinking, you turn to Jiyoon and open your mouth, intent to confront her about what’s going on or at least demanding she talks to you about it later, but she starts to speak before you can.

“We should get lunch today—oh, wait, I can’t today. But we should do that soon, okay?” She gives you a sincere smile. “Maybe we can talk baby names.” You’re so taken aback that all you can do is stare at her until she turns around and goes on about her morning like absolutely nothing happened. It’s as if it’s just a normal Thursday in the office.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

If someone had asked Jungkook six months ago where he thought he would be, the last thing he would have said was sleeping on your couch with his marriage in shambles. It’s been three days since he blacked out with his face pressed against your baby bump. Waking up that morning was only slightly awkward.

He’s been keeping himself busy by checking work emails and watching parenting videos on YouTube. Taehyung stopped by the condo for him the morning after, when Jiyoon was at work, and grabbed some of his things. Apparently, Jungkook’s phone fell behind the bench when he was putting on his shoes before he left to go to the hospital to be with you. When he powered it on, he wanted to throw it against the wall and watch it shatter.

The text message he thought he sent to Jiyoon sat there, unsent, in the fucking text box. Taehyung told him that didn’t excuse the way Jiyoon acted. Sure, Jungkook had missed an appointment, but she didn’t even show concern for his well-being. What if Jungkook had been the one in the hospital? He said all she was doing was playing the victim.

Jungkook didn’t want to continue that conversation, almost as much as he didn’t want to reach out to Jiyoon. So, instead of doing either, he’s been focused on other things, like work. You did him a favor and rescheduled a shoot he had later in the week. Thankfully, the brand was willing to be flexible, though he knows not everyone will be.

Which is why he got up this morning, took a shower, and is now on his way to meet Taehyung for lunch. Jungkook needs to get back to some semblance of normality, and food with his best friend is a great place to start. Taehyung is also bringing Jimin, and it’ll be nice to just have a moment of feeling like a human being again.

Taehyung chose a nice bistro just down the street, so Jungkook decided to walk. With every step he takes, he can’t help but swivel his eyes and check every face that passes him. The last thing he wants to do is somehow accidentally run into Jiyoon. Knowing his luck, that’s exactly what would happen no matter how hard he tried.

Thankfully, it seems the world has decided not to hate Jungkook that much today. Jimin and Taehyung are already there, seated at a booth in the back, when Jungkook walks through the door, the overhead bell tinkling brightly.

“Hey, man!” Jimin greets him cheerfully. Jungkook is certain Jimin could field the entire Kim Exclusives brand roster on his own, with his lush lips, soft cheeks, and dark eyes. The stylishly tousled blond-dyed hair helps, too.

Jungkook slides into the seat across from them. “How’s it going?”

“Busy!” Jimin flashes a charming smile. “I booked a brand deal with this pretty big jewelry company, and they want me to attend one of their launch parties this summer. I have five vouchers for plus ones if you’re interested. My manager, of course, gets one. Taehyung has one, and I’ve invited this guy I’ve been talking to for a while, Hoseok. That leaves two tickets unclaimed.”

Jungkook suppresses a smile at the jealous flash in Taehyung’s eyes when Jimin mentions this mysterious Hoseok. It’s cute how Taehyung tries to hide his very obvious crush on Jimin. All it would take is for Taehyung to actually ask Jimin out, and Jungkook knows he’d say yes in an instant.

“There will be an open bar and lots of potential connections to be made,” Taehyung adds, clearly trying to move the conversation along.

“Yeah, you can bring Ji—uh…” Jimin stammers to a stop. The poor guy blanches, clearly worried he might have upset Jungkook by almost talking about someone in particular that they’ve all been pointedly avoiding mentioning.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook tells Jimin. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You can always bring our boss instead,” Taehyung suggests, waggling his brows at Jungkook.

Jimin pops his elbows on the table and leans toward Jungkook. “She’s who you’re staying with right now, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. But, can we not talk about any of that? I just want to feel normal, please. Let’s talk about anything but my fucked up life.”

“Right, sure, of course.”

“No problem, man.”

Jimin and Taehyung shift gears without any issue, and Jungkook is thankful for that. By the time they order food and have eaten, Jungkook is feeling so much better that it doesn’t bother him that much when Taehyung asks him a question that’s close to the taboo subject of she-who-shall-not-be-named.

“When do you think you’ll be coming home?”

Jungkook drums his fingers on the tabletop, not having really given that much thought to it before now. “Honestly? I don’t really know. The condo is in my name, but I can’t just kick…Jiyoon—” he only stumbles over her name a little “—out.”

“I mean, you’re not just going to let her have it, are you?” Taehyung takes a sip of his tea before setting it back down. “You make good money, but you’re not made of giving away entire condos money, Jungkook. We book a lot of the same clients, I would know.”

He’s right; Jungkook knows this. And it’s not like he can stay with you forever. He already feels like he’s invading your space, and it’s only been a few days. Perhaps it’s time for Jungkook to swallow his reservations and seek out some answers. Life isn’t going to stand still for him; he needs to push through it and get to the other side.

“Fuck, man. I know. I’ll contact a lawyer today and see what’s the best course of action moving forward. Gotta start somewhere, right?”

“That’s the spirit,” Taehyung proclaims with an enthusiastic nod. “Don’t let the bitch continue to control your life!”

💔💔💔

You’re not sure you can let another minute pass without confronting the giant, awkward, proverbial elephant in the room. Jiyoon has spent the entirety of the day pretending like nothing is amiss. During the weekly team meeting this afternoon, she sat beside you like she always has, a smile on her face and a hand gently draped over her baby bump—the baby that she told Jungkook wasn’t his.

It’s late afternoon now, and most everyone else in the office has gone home, leaving just you, Jiyoon, Hyeonwoo, and Namjoon. Hyeonwoo and Namjoon are tucked away in one of the conference rooms, going over projections and finance reports, so if you want to have a private moment with Jiyoon, now is your chance.

Her desk is close enough to yours that you don’t need to cross the space, but you do anyway, the five feet feeling more like a mile with every step you take.

“Hey, Jiyoon. Do you have a moment?”

“What?” She taps away at her computer, the screen angled in a way that you can’t see. “Not really a great time. I’m trying to submit the schedule approval for a press tour for Dohyun.” You know Dohyun is one of the high-profile actors that she’s managed for a few years.

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. You were hoping for maybe a bit more receptiveness. Despite knowing that pushing her probably won’t do you any good, you know you need to try. “Jiyoon, please. It will only take a moment. It’s important.”

Jiyoon blows out a breath of irritation. Her mouse click is harsh and exaggerated, and her annoyance is palpable. “Okay, go on.”

“What the hell is going on with you?” you ask, choosing not to sugarcoat the situation and getting right to the point.

Her eyes bulge, clearly surprised by your approach. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t. You know what I’m talking about, the fact that your husband is sleeping on my goddamn couch and that supposedly that’s not his baby!” you whisper yell, nodding toward her maroon maxi dress-covered belly.

Jiyoon is a few inches taller than you, even more so in the short-heeled pumps she’s wearing. But when she stands up and steps into your personal space, you refuse to back down even though the feeling of her belly pressing to the top of yours makes you want to retreat.

Moments pass in tense silence, her dark brown eyes boring into yours. Finally, she steps back with a soft laugh. “Is that what he told you?”

No. It’s something you’ve been avoiding talking to Jungkook about for obvious reasons. If he wanted to talk about it, he’d bring it up. But, you don’t think Taehyung would have lied to you when he dropped a drunk Jungkook on your doorstep. Taehyung is a lot of things, as you’ve learned over the years, but a liar isn’t one of them.

“It doesn’t matter what he told me. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Because despite how you might feel, hearing her side seems to be the least you can do at this point. Maybe she’ll provide some crucial bit of information or make any of it make sense.

Her arms cross over her chest, and one of her hips pops out in a classic Jiyoon stance when she’s about to fight using words. “Look, Jungkook and I had an argument. It got heated. We both said some shit we didn’t mean. It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last. That’s just how marriages go.” She says that with a look on her face that says you clearly wouldn’t understand because you’ve never been married. “Sorry that he’s taking up space in your apartment. Tell him to go to a hotel or something if he’s bothering you.” She shrugs. “Things should blow over soon, and he’ll come back home either way.”

“You’ve talked to him?”

“Well, no, but I know him. Everything will be fine. Now, I need to get back to work. You should go home. Put your feet up and rest. It’ll be good for your baby and ankle.” The tenderness and concern in her tone give you whiplash.

Part of you wants to stay and ask more questions, but you’re not sure it’ll do you any good. She didn’t answer your first question anyway—not really, at least. Jiyoon's answer was generic and didn’t provide any sort of details—a half-answer at best. She didn’t confirm nor deny whether what she said to Jungkook about the baby was true, and that, perhaps, should be an answer enough for you.

Your mind is still reeling by the time you get home. But the smell of grilled meat and sauteed vegetables that greets you as you open the door stops the grind wheel in its tracks. Jungkook is in the kitchen, standing at the stove, his back to you. A white shirt stretches over the broad expanse of his shoulders as they move with whatever he’s occupied with. By the sounds of it, he’s moving things around a pan.

Soft music drifts to you from the Bluetooth speaker sitting on the island that separates the living room from the kitchen. Jungkook’s voice mixes with the vocals. It’s a beautiful tenor that could do good for him if he ever stopped modeling.

The last thing you want is to disrupt his peace. You had made up your mind as you traveled home that you would bring up everything with Jungkook tonight, wanting to get it all out in the open and addressed so you knew what to expect moving forward, knew how long he’d be staying with you. 

It’s a conversation that needs to happen, but maybe it can wait…just a little longer.

“Hey,” you call after slipping off your shoe and removing the temporary boot. You only have to wear it for a few more days and really only if you’re going to be doing a lot of walking.

Jungkook spins around, spatula in hand, with a giant grin on his face. “You’re home! I hope you don’t mind. I thought I could at least make dinner. As a thank you for letting me crash here the last few days. I feel bad for invading your space.”

“You don’t have to thank me, though I won’t say no to whatever you’re making. It smells absolutely divine. Is that garlic?”

“Yes! I made some samgyeopsal and japchae. There are also some pajeon staying warm in the oven. Are you hungry? It’s all ready.” He looks at you hopeful, hands clasped around the spatula handle.

Your stomach gives an appreciative rumble. “Most definitely. Let me go change real quick, and then we can eat.”

The domestic feel of coming home to someone making dinner for you in the kitchen sparks you as surprisingly comforting. You’re so used to coming home to an empty space, preparing a small meal, and then spending time with your own thoughts and activities. Having Jungkook here, even for this short of a time, has made you realize how much you enjoy coming home to a space that’s not so empty.

When you make it into your room, you notice there is a silver boutique bag sitting on your bed. Inside there is a sage-colored cashmere button-up cardigan and a pair of butter soft yoga pants with a built-in belly band.

“I thought you might like them. You mentioned last night how you needed a new pair of lounge pants and that you accidentally got sauce on your favorite sweater. I know it’s not much, but I went out to lunch with Taehyung and Jimin this afternoon and saw that cardigan in a window, and it reminded me of you.” Jungkook fills the doorway of your room, his shadow stretching long across the foot of your bed.

“Jungkook, this is—” The cardigan and pants are both softer than probably anything else in your wardrobe, and it’s on the tip of your tongue to tell him it’s far too much, and you can’t accept it, but you realize maybe you need this as much as he does “—wonderful. Thank you.”

There is a soft boyishness to the way he smiles, dropping his eyes from yours as he rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I’ll let you change. I’m going to set the table.”

He disappears back down the hall, and you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Now, more than anything, you don’t want to tarnish what seems to be turning into a perfect night with a conversation about Jiyoon.

Normally, you would wash clothes before wearing them, but it’s too tempting to try the pants and cardigan on. They both fit perfectly and feel like velvety hugs against your skin. When you come out of your room, Jungkook is sitting at the dining table. Steaming dishes of vegetables, noodles, meat, and onion pancakes sit beside two plates and sets of cutlery. A chilled glass of water and a set of cutlery with a folded napkin sits beside your placemat.

“It looks amazing,” you tell Jungkook as you take your seat. “I didn’t realize you could cook.”

“Because I’m a man?” he asks, raising a brow at you in jest.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” You stick your tongue out at him, and he laughs. “Because you’ve never told me.”

“You’ve never asked.” Jungkook serves you first, giving you generous portions of everything.

“Touche. What other talents do you have that I don’t know about?”

Jungkook looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Does being really good at video games count?”

“Video games?” you giggle. “I guess that depends on how good we’re talking here.”

Jungkook’s eyes gleam with mischievous intent as he brings them back to yours. “Play me some time and find out.”

You laugh again. “I don’t think that would be a fair assessment at all.”

He grins, his white teeth flashing. “What about you? Do you have any talents I don’t know about?”

There is one thing you’ve never shared with anyone before, and you’re not sure what makes you want to share it with Jungkook, but you find yourself opening up regardless. “I’m not sure if it would be considered a talent. But, have you ever heard of the children’s book series ‘Tales of Buttercup and Biscuit’?”

“Isn’t that the one about the cat and dog that go on secret adventures together but have to hide their friendship because cats and dogs aren’t supposed to get along?”

Your teeth press into your bottom lip, a habit of yours that you’ve tried and failed to break many times. “That’s the one.”

Jungkook looks at you, waiting for you to continue, but you just let it hang there in the air, hoping he’ll put the pieces together. The moment it clicks, you see a spark of surprise in his suddenly wide eyes. “Wait, no. No! That’s you?! My little cousin loves those books. He raves about them all the time!”

“It’s nothing, really. Just something I enjoy in my spare time.”

“A published book series is not nothing,” Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re far too humble. Wow. Just wow. That’s amazing. Your secret talent is definitely way better than mine.”

The conversation continues throughout dinner and carries into a shared dessert of coffee patisseries and vanilla ice cream. Jungkook sits on one end of the couch with you on the other, your feet in his lap as he massages them. The empty dishes from dessert sit discarded on the floor beside the couch.

“That feels good,” you sigh. “I didn’t think my feet would be swelling this much this early on.”

“What does it feel like?” Jungkook asks, his eyes lifting to yours from under his brow as he’s bent over your feet.

“Having swollen feet?”

“Well, not just that, but everything. What’s it like being pregnant?”

You think about it for a moment, wanting to give as best an answer as possible. “It’s hard to say, really. I imagine it’s different for everyone. But, for me, it’s I ate too much food for dinner, if that makes sense? It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but I can tell my stomach is expanding, and my body is making more room on the inside. Sometimes, I think I can feel a flutter, like movement. Right here,” you say, pressing a hand on the right side at the bottom of your bump. “But I read online that since this is my first, it might be a few more weeks before I actually feel any movement.”

Jungkook uses the flat of his thumbs to knead the ball of your left foot. The lotion sitting on the side table has a subtle lilac scent. He squeezes a small dollop in his hand and goes back to work. You know Jungkook is particular about heavy scents, so when he asked for lotion to use while massaging your feet, you grabbed the one with the lightest scent.

“Would you…” Jungkook begins but trails off, pursing his lips as if reconsidering what he was about to ask. “Do you think that when you do start to feel movement—what I’m trying to say is, would you be comfortable with letting me try to feel them, too?”

“Of course. Absolutely. Why wouldn’t—”

The sound of Jungkook’s phone chiming cuts you off. You recognize the ringtone, and suddenly, a leaden weight sits in the pit of your stomach.

Jungkook licks his lips nervously, his eyes flicking between yours and where the phone is tucked into his pocket. “I—uh, I should probably…get that. I’m sorry. Do you mind?” He points down the hall, and you assume he’s asking if he can step into your room or the bathroom for some privacy.

You pull your feet off his lap and give him a quick nod, unsure you can trust yourself not to tell him not to answer it, to beg him to let this spell of peace last a little while longer. Jungkook gives you an apologetic smile before retreating down the hall, his form disappearing into the dark.

A moment later, you hear the distinct click of the bathroom closing and the lock rolling into place. You can’t help but feel like things are about to change, and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

Running a hand through his hair, Jungkook pushes it back from his face before sitting on the lip of the tub and swiping to answer the call.

“Ju-Jungkook?” Jiyoon’s voice cracks through the line and it tears at Jungkook’s heart. No matter how hurt he is right now, he’s never liked the sound of her crying. It’s ingrained in his soul to immediately want to console her, to tell her not to cry and that everything will be okay. Only, any comforting words he might normally say crumble like dust on his tongue. “Jungkook. Please. I can’t do this. I’m…I’m so sorry.”

Over the last few days, when Jungkook did allow himself to think about this moment, he expected to feel some sort of relief with those words. ‘I’m sorry’. Hearing them now, though, the only thing he feels is sorrow.

“I don’t know that I can believe you.” That’s all his mind will allow him to utter in response because it is genuinely the truth.

Jungkook and Jiyoon have been together for around six years. In all those years, not a single day has been spent hating her or feeling anything less than love for her. Sure, there have been dark times, but that’s never been able to truly overshadow his love for his wife.

When they first met, he was captivated by her headstrong and resilient nature. He was drawn to the way she seemed to take charge of a room from the moment she walked in. It wasn’t hard to fall in love with her.

Despite that seemingly rock-steady exterior, Jiyoon also showed him a tender side of her nature that few got to see. She had compassion and loved helping people, volunteering in her spare time to work on humanitarian projects and hosting fundraisers. She once told him that if she didn’t love marketing and media so much, she’d probably have opened her own non-profit to raise awareness for gender inequalities.

It wasn’t until a few years ago that she really started to change. There were fewer of those tender moments and more of the stone-faced, withdrawn woman he knows now. A ghost of who she once was…or maybe just who she was always meant to be—who she really was all along.

“You have every right to say that.” Jiyoon clears her throat, and Jungkook can almost see her dabbing at her face with a tissue, blotting away smears of mascara and eyeliner. “But I am sorry. I didn’t mean all those things I said to you the other night. I was mad, hurt, and lashing out. It…it’s not true, what I said about the baby.”

A twinge of something pangs in Jungkook’s chest. “What?”

“The baby, it is yours, Jungkook. I know you didn’t fuck my friend. God, I can’t believe I accused you of that. I know you’d never do that. I just…I was so mad. I was so mad I couldn’t think straight.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse, Jiyoon.” Jungkook carefully considers his words, trying to be honest without being too harsh. No matter what transpired, Jiyoon is still a person and deserves to be treated as such. “What you said…what you insinuated, that hurt me.”

“I know, baby. I didn’t mean it. Well, I did mean it. I wanted to hurt you, wanted to make you feel like I was feeling, but only because you hurt me first. And I know that’s silly, awful, and childish. I just couldn’t stop myself once I had started.” Jiyoon sighs, the sound exhausted. “The baby is yours, Jungkook. I swear.”

“I want to believe you, Jiyoon, I really do. I’m just not sure you saying sorry is enough. That’s not just something you spout out off the handle, most lies hold a semblance of truth.”

Jiyoon hums softly, and Jungkook knows she’s trying to collect her thoughts and form them into words. “There…is some truth in what I said—” she pauses when Jungkook lets out a heavy breath “—but not like that, not about the baby. The truth is in the fact that I was scared, and intimidated by the way you care so much about another woman. And yes, even if that woman is my friend.”

“She’s carrying my child, a child she agreed to carry for us. Of course, I’m going to make sure she is taken care of and want to be a part of as much of the process as possible. I thought you were also doing that? Don’t you talk to her, spend time with her, bond over pregnancy? It’s the same thing.”

She doesn’t immediately answer. Then, “Probably not as much as I should have.”

Jungkook is taken aback by this revelation. He thought surely the two of you were in constant contact and sharing the experience of it all together. You haven’t brought up anything that would make Jungkook think otherwise, but then again, he’s never bothered to ask either.

“You can’t expect me to distance myself or treat her any differently when she is carrying something that is meant to be so precious to the both of us.” Jungkook means that with his entire being. If anything, he thinks he could even treat you better than he currently does, and make more of an effort in some areas.

“It’s…just hard, okay? I know it’s not an excuse, but you kept missing my appointments because you were busy spending time with her instead. I know the last time it was an emergency and I take full responsibility for my actions and the words I said. But, I promise, everything I said was just out of anger. I mean,” she laughs, the sound lightly incredulous and humorless, “why would I accuse you of cheating and then immediately confess to cheating? That’s kind of silly when you think about it, right?”

Jungkook did consider it when trying to make it all make sense. But he just chalked it up to Jiyoon possibly projecting her own actions and guilt onto Jungkook when she accused him, to begin with. The fact that her tactic changed to say the worst possible thing to hurt him just seems par for the course.

“I guess, maybe.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders even though Jiyoon can’t see him. “I don’t know what to think anymore, to be honest with you.”

Jiyoon sniffles, her voice rough with tears, “I understand that. I accept that. And I promise to make it up to you. Just come back home, and we can work through it.”

That would be the easy thing to do…but also maybe the last thing he should do. Jungkook is aware that Jiyoon knows his weaknesses. All it would take is a few well-placed words, and he’d forgive her completely and forget that all this had even happened. It’s happened before, perhaps more than it should have.

That is why he says, “I don’t know, Jiyoon. I don’t think that’s a good idea—not right away, at least.”

“Jungkook. Please,” she cries. “Please, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I feel like I’ve lost you and…and I can’t, I just can’t. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, I’ll do whatever it takes. Just, please, please…” Her desperate pleas turn into incoherent sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Jungkook coos, his deeply ingrained instincts kicking in despite knowing he should try to hold out. “Calm down, shh, hey, deep breaths. Just like that, good. Come on, one more. Smooth, calm.” Once her cries have subsided into hiccuping spurts, Jungkook takes a deep breath and offers the only thing he can right now, “How about we take things slow? Maybe we can meet for lunch at the end of the week if you’re not too busy with work.”

“O-okay, yeah. Yes, please. Okay, let’s do that, I’ll clear my schedule,” Jiyoon accepts quickly, voice still thick with emotion but Jungkook can hear the smallest hint of a smile in her words.

By the time Jungkook leaves the bathroom, you’re no longer sitting on the couch. The leftovers from dinner have been put away, and the kitchen has been cleaned up. A wave of guilt-laden regret washes through Jungkook. He feels bad you did all the cleanup by yourself.

Tonight had started out so promising. It would be an injustice for Jungkook not to admit he enjoyed tonight more than he has any night in the last few years. You’re just so easy to be around, so soft and calm, your energy a pleasant buzz instead of a trumpeting cacophony like Jiyoon's. It’s a wonder you’ve been friends with her for as long as you have, being near complete opposites. Yet…not in a bad way.

Jungkook swallows hard at that revelation. Maybe he can blame the falling out on feeling disconnected from Jiyoon and more connected to…well, to someone who isn’t his wife.

It’s a startling realization—one that leaves him tormented with uncertainty and falling into a sleep so fitful it tempts him to knock on your door. The closest he gets is standing outside your closed bedroom door, his fist poised, hovering over the hardwood. But, in the end, he crawls back into his makeshift bed on the couch and doesn’t sleep a wink.

Jungkook wants to talk with you about his conversation with Jiyoon, but there hasn’t been a moment of freedom to do more than the typical day-to-day check-in. He doesn’t want to just say, ‘Oh, hey, by the way, Jiyoon said she lied, and we’re going to have lunch to talk it out in a few days.’ It’s a conversation that definitely needs more time and grace.

To make up for the shoot you rescheduled for him since he’s now feeling much better, Jungkook decided to take on a last-minute speaking engagement at the grand re-opening of a downtown shop that has a contract deal with one of his brands.

After hours of smiling and posing for pictures, Jungkook met with Taehyung for lunch and then lost himself for a few more hours at the gym of your apartment complex while he waited for you to get home. When he finally returned to your place, a covered dish of food, still warm in the oven, was waiting for him, and you were already in bed.

As Jungkook eats the food you prepared for him, he can’t stop kicking himself for the opportunity lost. He really wants to talk to you before meeting with Jiyoon for lunch tomorrow. He values not only your opinion on the whole situation but also the fact that you know Jiyoon nearly as well as, if not more than, he does. So, he hopes he can catch you in the morning before you go to work. Unless…you’re intentionally avoiding him, a thought that hits deeper than maybe it should.

💔💔💔

You hate being late to work, but when you woke up this morning your stomach had plans you couldn’t exactly foresee. In between moments of hugging the toilet, you manage to send Namjoon an email letting him know you’ll be a little late this morning.

Thirty minutes later, feeling marginally better, you finish getting ready and are surprised to catch Jungkook in the kitchen making breakfast. You’ve not necessarily been avoiding him, but you’ve also not not been. You might have overheard the tail-end of his conversation with Jiyoon two nights ago and haven’t been able to shake this foreboding feeling ever since.

“Good morning,” you say as you slip past him and start to make a cup of tea.

Jungkook looks at you over his shoulder. “Morning. You feeling okay?”

“I just had a bit of a spell this morning. I’m feeling much better now. I'm just going to make my tea to-go and then be on my way.” 

“Hey, um, do you think we could talk? I’ve been meaning to bring it up since the other night, but I just…timing hasn’t exactly been on my side, and well…”

“I got a few minutes, sure. I already emailed Namjoon to let him know I would be coming in a bit late today.”

“Great. Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll finish your tea, and I also made some muffins,” he says, shooing you toward the dining table before turning back and opening the oven. The smell of fresh banana muffins wafts to you and makes your mouth water.

“So, what’s up?” you ask when Jungkook sits down.

You watch him prepare your tea, adding the perfect amount of honey and cream. It’s such an insignificant thing, tea, but the fact Jungkook knows how you like yours, makes you feel good…really good.

“Well, we haven’t exactly talked about everything that happened. Taehyung told me he filled you in on what all I told him, but I don’t know if he told you…everything.”

It’s hard not to let the topic of conversation sour your mood. But this is a conversation you know has needed to happen, so you begrudgingly don’t pull away from it. “He told me that Jiyoon told you…about her baby and then something about me and you.” That’s a very vanilla version of it, but you don’t want to say any more details than necessary.

“Right. That’s the gist of it. She apologized to me the other night when she called. She claimed she only said those things out of anger and because she was hurt. It was her way of hurting me for hurting her. I guess I haven’t exactly taken her feelings into account with some stuff lately, and when I missed her twenty-two-week appointment, she lost it and said all those things to get back at me for it.”

Jungkook makes it seem so innocent, so cut and dry…so, forgivable.

“I see.”

“I’m having lunch with her today, so we can talk some more. She wants to work things out and asked me to come back home.”

You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that the metallic zing of blood coats your tongue. “And are you?”

“Going to lunch, yes. Back home? I don’t know. I have to go home sometime, I suppose.”

The confusion on Jungkook’s face is clear to you, like he doesn’t know up from down when it comes to what he wants right now. But you also see resignation, like he knows it’s inevitable that he’ll be back home soon, whether or not Jiyoon is there, too.

“I…okay, I understand that.” It’s not your place to beg him not to go. Jungkook is his own person and can make his own decisions. However, what you can do is tell him how it makes you feel. “Just know, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I know sleeping on the couch probably isn’t super comfortable, but I’m just saying. You always have a place here, no matter what. I’m sure there are a lot of things you and Jiyoon need to discuss, just—” you sigh, pressing on even though you’re not sure if Jungkook will be receptive to your criticisms “—be careful. Don’t accept something because it’s the easy way, be sure it’s something you want and that you protect yourself above all other things.”

It’s possible you’re seeing what you want to see, or maybe it’s really there, but for a moment, you’re certain there is a flash of something more in Jungkook’s eyes—something that says he wishes you told him not to do it. But it’s gone before you can decide if it was there or just your imagination.

When you finally make it in, Jiyoon is floating around the office like a fairy. Her chiming laugh fills the space, and she’s absolutely glowing in her pregnancy. Everyone in the office says so, complimenting how luminous her skin is and how shiny her long black hair looks. You’ve gotten some compliments, too, but they’ve been mixed in with whispers and office gossip.

Even before Junkook and Jiyoon had their falling out, seemingly everyone found out about what you offered to do for them. When Jiyoon first revealed that you were pregnant with a baby for her and Jungkook, one specifically composed of your DNA and his, the entire office seemed to have an opinion about it—not all positive, either.

There are quite a few different options for surrogacy available thanks to the advances of modern medicine, and the method that Jungkook presented to you is the one that he believes suits the fertility issues Jiyoon was facing the best.

When it first came out, Namjoon had taken you aside into his office to talk about the implications of having a more than professional relationship with a client and how important it is to maintain boundaries, the typical HR spiel to which you politely agreed and promised him things weren’t going to interfere with work. You wonder now if you need to have another conversation with Namjoon about not being able to keep that promise, considering recent events.

Jiyoon catches your eye as she picks up a small pink bag from Dani’s desk, a bright smile on her face. “Hey, you!” she calls to you.

“Hey,” you mutter in response, still unsure how you feel about everything Jungkook told you this morning. You know it’s entirely possible. Blowing something out of proportion is exactly Jiyoon's thing to do. She loves to wound with words, lashing out with a viper tongue when the mood suits her.

“Can we talk for a minute?” she asks, stepping close to you and lowering her voice.

”Yeah, sure.”

”Great, let me just put this on my desk real fast.” She gives the pink gift bag she got from Dani a little shake.

You follow her to where your desks are. She drops off the pink present, and it joins a scattering of other pastel pink and yellow wrapped gifts or baggies. A sinking feeling hits you, and you mentally connect the dots to what that could possibly mean.

“A girl?”

Her eyes are vibrant when they meet yours. “Yeah, isn’t it exciting? A daughter.”

A sister.

Knowing your son could possibly have a sister should be exciting. Yet…if it’s supposed to be exciting, then why do you suddenly desire to run away and hide to protect your son? Also, since when did you start thinking of the baby as yours? You shake away that thought, clear your throat, and plaster on a strained smile.

“Exciting, yeah. Congratulations. If I had known we were bringing gifts today, I would have grabbed something.”

“Oh, nonsense. But, about what I wanted to talk to you about,” she says, waving a hand to dismiss what you said about the gift.

You wait for her to go on, but she glances around and then takes your arm and tugs you closer to the supply closet on this side of the office, notably as far away from your coworkers as you can get without going to the restroom or Namjoon’s personal office.

“What is it?” you ask, crossing your arms under your breasts. It breaks her hold on your arm, but the tightening feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach says you also feel like you need a hug, and your own arms are the best you have right now.

Her voice is pitched low, her body angled so her back is more to the office space and any curious eyes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Genuinely, and truly. You are my best friend, and I know I’ve been less than stellar with you for a while now. Everything got away from me, and I was acting out, being a bully, and just a horrible person all around. Then everything with the babies and all the issues between Jungkook and I, and well…I know that doesn’t justify how I acted, but now Jungkook is upset with me, and I don’t know what to do. I just thought that maybe—well, if things were okay between us, then maybe he’d come home. I didn’t realize what I said to him would hurt you, too. I thought you would have known better since we’ve been friends for so long.”

Once upon a time, you would have said without a doubt that you could tell when Jiyoon was being dishonest with you or not. Now, however, you’re not so sure. You wish Jungkook were here so you could look to him for his opinion, which has been something you’ve come to greatly appreciate.

“Okay, I guess. Thanks for apologizing.” This comes out more as a question than a statement, but it seems to satisfy Jiyoon.

“Great! I’m glad you understand and that we’re on the same page. So, you’ll tell him to come home? Oh, and I meant what I said the other day. We should have lunch sometime soon. I’d love to chat about how the next few months are going to go. We’ll have to figure out how to coordinate bringing my babies home. Can’t be too prepared, right? Plus, it’ll be here before we know it.”

Your spine straightens, and your muscles tense as Jiyoon throws her arms around your neck and hugs you. For the second time in a matter of days, the press of her stomach against yours makes you uncomfortable. Something isn’t sitting right with you, this whole interaction feels off, and you just can’t put your finger on why.

Patting her on the back lightly, you disengage and give her what you hope is a polite smile before telling her you need to get some work done. There is something about this interaction, something about Jiyoon, that just…has your alarm bells going off. Everything about the last few months has you rethinking a lot of things…and perhaps the first thing on that list should be your friendship with Jiyoon.

As soon as you sit at your desk, your first reaction is to pull out your phone and text Jungkook. But, you stop yourself, leaving the device in your bag. Jungkook told you he was having lunch with Jiyoon today, and you don’t want to bother him with something that is probably nothing.

If, by the end of the day, you still can’t shake this unsteady feeling, then you vow to allow yourself the grace to bring your feelings and concerns to Jungkook. Not in the hopes of persuading him in any way, but to hopefully have an outside perspective on whether or not you’re reaching here.

Something does feel off. But maybe that something is you and what is turning out to be the not-so-tiny, very significant, completely not-harmless crush you have on Jungkook. The fact that you don’t even want to think of him as your friend’s husband anymore is quite telling in and of itself.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

There have been times in Jungkook’s life when he wished he could go back in time and change things. It hasn’t happened often, but when it does, the thing he would change is always life-altering in some way.

For instance, he would go back in time and change the way he approached the subject of wanting to have children with Jiyoon. Or, rather, he might even go back to before they got engaged—which was maybe too soon itself, considering they got engaged and married within a year of first meeting—and insist they talk about their future wants and desires to make sure that they aligned.

Jungkook isn’t sure why it took him so long to think about it, but with everything that has happened in the last few months, he can’t help but look back on it now. He’s sitting in his car, waiting for Jiyoon to arrive at the BBQ place she chose for lunch. It was still thirty minutes until their agreed-upon time, but Jungkook had nothing else to do.

So, here he is, with his thoughts. Jungkook brought up the desire of wanting to have children four years into their marriage, which was two years ago now. Two years, that feel like two decades, of an uphill battle in which Jungkook thought he and Jiyoon were on the same page. Only, that wasn’t always the case.

It seems so vague a memory now, but it’s there nonetheless. Jiyoon expressed her own thoughts about children; she didn’t want them. At least, not so soon. He’s not sure if he can place the moment in their marriage when she changed her mind, because it all feels so seamless to Jungkook.

Thinking back on their journey, Jiyoon suggested they start trying more often. However, Jiyoon also took their passionate moments of indulgence and made them into robotic meetings of anatomy. Jungkook definitely remembers that pivotal moment in their relationship.

Perhaps that is something else he would go back and change. He’d approach the idea of seeking medical assistance differently. He wouldn’t have gone behind Jiyoon’s back and sought answers she wasn’t ready to have. Maybe if he’d have been more delicate about it, the schedule would have never come into play.

As with all thoughts about changing the past, he can’t help but wonder whether what happened was a good thing. After all, if the child Jiyoon is carrying is indeed his, maybe it was the schedule that helped in the end anyway.

With so many thoughts, Jungkook feels like he might drown if he continues with all the what-ifs and whys of it all. Turning on his radio, he reclines his seat and brings up the camera roll on his phone. This has turned into one of his favorite pastimes, scrolling through all the happy images and memories he has saved here.

His thumb pauses, hovering over one of the more recent shots. The day he found out he was having a son, the day his world upended just a few hours later. Your smiling face, unshed tears in your eyes, pressed close to his, the ultrasound tech having insisted on capturing the delicate moment of pure rapture when you and Jungkook got to see that you were growing his son inside of you.

There are a few other shots of you, candid moments Jungkook captured because one day, no matter what anyone else thinks, he’s going to tell his son where he came from and show him the beautiful, thoughtful, and selfless woman who helped Jungkook create him. What better way to do that than through moments forever rendered in technicolor? Just to be safe, Jungkook clicks through and adds them all to his cloud.

Jungkook notices with a bitter pang of disappointment that he has so few pictures of Jiyoon pregnant. Anytime she catches him trying to take one, she gets really upset. The last time it happened, she cried, locked herself in the bathroom, and wouldn’t come out no matter how much Jungkook apologized. He didn’t see her until the next morning. 

He nearly drops his phone as it chimes with an incoming text message from Jiyoon. She is inside and waiting for him, it says. Knowing this is the right step forward, Jungkook rights his seat and climbs out of the car, heading inside.

“Hey, over here!” Jiyoon calls to him as soon as he steps past the host stand.

As always, she looks gorgeous. The plum-colored off-the-shoulder cable-knit sweater compliments the soft flush in her cheeks, and the black slacks accentuate her long legs. It’s hard to see her bump through the sweater, the fabric chunky in an intentional way.

She resumes her seat when he starts her way. “Hey,” Jungkook replies, taking the seat across from her.

“I went ahead and put in an order for the honey pork and beef. I hope that’s okay.”

“Sure, sounds great.” Jungkook clears his throat a few times, not sure what else to say. He pours himself a glass of water and begins to pour Jiyoon one before he even realizes it. It’s just so natural for him to do so.

“Thanks.” She gives him a smile as she accepts the glass. “And thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

One of Jungkook’s shoulders kicks up in a half-shrug. “We have to talk sometime. And sooner is probably better than later.” A muscle feathers along his jaw as he clenches it. “Where would you like to begin?”

Jungkook feels like maybe he’s being a bit too cold or standoffish to Jiyoon, considering their near seven year history and the fact she’s his wife, for crying out loud. But, if he’s being honest, he’s still not over all the bullshit she said and the way she acted.

“Would you like to know the gender?” she asks hesitantly. Her right hand comes down and forms the front of her sweater over her belly, making it stand out.

Does he want to know? Yes. Of course, he does. No matter what has transpired, whether true or not, the baby is innocent in this.

“I would.”

The prominent thump of his heart echoes in his ears as Jiyoon slides a small, facedown picture across the table. “You can keep it if you want…I have a copy.”

With a slow exhale, Jungkook pinches the corner of the photo and turns it over. It’s so similar to many of the other grainy, black-and-white ultrasound images he’s seen over the last several weeks. But right there, toward the top right corner, is a single word, white text floating in the abyss of the static-like scan.

Girl.

“A girl,” Jungkook whispers, the word rushing from his mouth like he caught a fist in the gut. That fist moves up and takes a stranglehold on his heart next. It’s almost painful to breathe. Everything that was before, seems so much less significant now.

“Our daughter,” Jiyoon confirms, reaching out and gripping his free hand that was trembling on the table.

Tears sting Jungkook’s eyes, and he has to blink several times before he’s certain they won’t drip onto the photo. The first thought he has when everything comes rushing back in is that he needs to tell you, and wants to share in this joy with you. “My son is going to have a sister.”

He must have spoken aloud because Jiyoon lets out a startled gasp. “Your son? You mean the other baby is a boy?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Didn’t you know? I just thought maybe…” Jungkook trails off because he’s come to learn better that Jiyoon isn’t quite the friend he thought she was to you. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit if Jiyoon hadn’t spoken to you at all in the last week since everything went to shit.

Jiyoon sighs. “I did talk to her today—earlier, in fact. But we didn’t talk about the babies, not really. I…uh, I apologized to her for what I said and how I’ve been acting.” Her nose twitches as she sniffs, averting her gaze from Jungkook’s. “I’ve been such a shit friend lately, and after everything with you, I knew I needed to make it right. Or at least start trying to make it right. Everything has just happened so quickly, I feel like I’m drowning sometimes. And…a-and when my life preserver—” her eyes flick back to his for a moment, and he knows she means him “—isn’t there, I panic, and I guess that means I try to bring the whole ship down with me. I meant what I said, Jungkook, I am sorry about everything. What I said was awful, and that’s not the kind of person I want to be, not the kind of mother I want to be for our children. Will you come home? Please? I don’t want to spend another night alone in our home.”

“Maybe…I guess I can sleep in the guest room for a while? You know, just until I can get my head back on straight.”

“You mean that?” she asks, her grip tightening on his hand.

Looking back down at the photo still pinched between his fingers, he knows what the right thing to do is. There might still be a small sliver of doubt, but this baby—this little girl—deserves for him to give her a chance.

“Yeah, I mean that.”

💔💔💔

When Jiyoon returns to work after her lunch with Jungkook, that intense feeling from before increases. She’s far too happy right now for having just had lunch with the husband she shattered less than a week ago. You tap the screen on your phone, which sits on your desk, and you’re tempted to text Jungkook and ask him how it went. But a shadow falling over your desk draws your attention away.

“I brought you back something,” Jiyoon says with a smile, offering you a white paper bag.

You catch the scent of cinnamon and sugar as you accept the bag. A peek inside reveals a large pinwheel wrapped in wax paper, the bottom of the bag is warm, so you know it’s fresh.

“Um, okay. Thanks.”

“Jungkook mentioned that you’ve developed a bit of a sweet tooth thanks to Little Man. It’s probably not as good as his homemade banana bread, but I know you like cinnamon rolls, so I thought you might enjoy a treat.” She leans against the wall partition that separates your desk from hers. “I know I can’t seem to stop snacking on pretzels. Cute, right? Salty and sweet, already the perfect duo.”

Of course Jungkook would have told her the gender of the baby. You may not have signed the legal papers just yet, but there is no way you can even begin to think about keeping this baby from Jungkook. So, if with Jungkook comes Jiyoon, then you’re going to have to try to come to terms with some things or at least have a very open and meaningful conversation with them both. That’s something that strikes you suddenly, realizing that not once since you agreed to do surrogacy for them have all three of you sat down together to talk.

“So, lunch went okay?” You can’t help but ask. The need to know is far too great. This is a good segue into hopefully asking if the next lunch can include all three of you.

Jiyoon presses the tips of her fingers to her forehead. “Thankfully, yes. You’ll be happy to hear Jungkook is coming back home tonight, so he’ll be out of your hair soon. I, um, I hope things are okay between you and me. I know an apology doesn’t really do much, but I have another peace offering to go with the gooey goodness in that wrapper,” she beams, tapping the bag sitting on your desk.

Another peace offering? You have no idea what that could possibly be. “You have something else?”

Jiyoon leans toward her desk, and you hear the sound of papers shuffling before she produces a sheaf of papers. “It’s a birthing plan! I thought maybe making up your plan would help take that stress off of you. Especially considering our situation is a pretty special one. Everything there is what I would like to happen, but of course, if you need to add anything, that’s fine, too.”

There are easily a dozen papers stapled together here. It’s a detailed, bulleted list of requests. It covers everything from who is allowed in the birthing room and who cuts the cord to whether or not you can have an epidural and if you can hold the baby right after birth.

You scan the pages, your eyes snagging on at least every other word. Jiyoon wants Dani in the birthing room? She wants a doctor to cut the cord so the baby can be immediately given to her for skin-to-skin contact. Jungkook is allowed in the room, but only if he’s standing where he can’t see the birth. In parentheses beside that, there is ‘because it’ll be weird if he watches the baby come out’.

No epidural and only a heparin or saline lock for administering fluids if necessary. She wants you to be able to move around while in labor, but it’s listed that you’re only allowed to labor on your back so Jiyoon can watch her son being born. You’re only allowed to use a birthing ball, and absolutely no warm baths or showers.

In the event of a cesarean, Jiyoon will be the only one allowed into the operating room for support. The baby is to be fed exclusively breast milk but not directly from the breast. Below that is a list of top-of-the-line breast pumps and where to order them.

“Jiyoon. Are you serious?”

“What is it? What’s wrong with that? Do you not like it? Like I said, you can add things if you want. But, it would be nice if you let me know before you did. This is really the perfect plan and exactly what I want for my baby.”

Jiyoon huffs, her bottom lip poking out as she frowns at you shaking your head slowly. 

“No epidural?”

“I’ve read that they can have some complications. Do you really want to take that risk?”

You poke the paper, your finger jabbing at one of the other things listed. “You want Dani in the room? She and I aren’t even friends.”

“Well, she’s my friend. It’s not like she’s going to be all up in your vagina. She’ll just be there to support me.”

“Support you?! Jiyoon, I get that this would be a special day for you, but I’ll be the one giving birth—which I see here you have it listed that you want me to try and get induced two weeks early? Why would I do that? My doctor says the only time we would want to induce early is if something is going on or, in some cases, of gestational diabetes, and my glucose test isn’t for another month.”

Jiyoon looks at you like you just grew a second head. “I thought I was doing you a favor!”

“Jiyoon, this isn’t doing me a favor. T-this…this isn’t a favor. This is you trying to control things that should at least be something we both consider. What if I don’t want any of this? Shouldn’t what I want matter, too?”

This has to be a joke.

“I thought what you wanted was to have a baby for me?”

You push back from your desk, tired of literally sitting here and taking this. “You could have talked to me about this. But it sounds like you’re not wanting to give me a choice. You said I could add things, not that I could take them away, too. Is that it?”

“Look, there’s a certain way I want my son to be brought into this world! Is that so bad? You’re acting like I’m asking you to do something insane.”

The heat licking its way across your cheeks is a product of pure anger. Maybe you shouldn’t be getting this bent out of shape over this. Jiyoon seems to have the best intentions with her list, but you can’t help but think that not once in this entire process has she asked what you want. In the beginning, you were constantly trying to talk to her and include her. Even if it was just a text message since she was so busy. Yet, she hasn’t once returned that in kind. Now this? You can’t do it.

“Ladies, is everything okay?” Namjoon’s baritone breaks through the silence that had fallen between you and Jiyoon.

You only realize now that the entire office is quiet, listening to you and Jiyoon volley words back and forth. A few throats clear, and people resume pretending to ignore the two of you, but it’s clear anyone within a twenty-foot radius was just eavesdropping in on the drama.

“It’s fine, Namjoon,” you say, meeting his eyes before turning back to Jiyoon. “Maybe we can talk more about this when we’re not at work?”

Jiyoon purses her lips, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she nods. “Sure, yeah. We can do that.”

No further opportunity presents itself for you and Jiyoon to talk. Not today, at least. It also could be that you weren’t exactly looking for an opportunity to do so. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about that stupid list.

Even now, you clutch it in one of your hands as you unlock your apartment door with the other. You don’t necessarily want to cry to Jungkook about it, more just have a conversation with him. Find out whether or not he’s aware of everything Jiyoon wants to impose on you.

Because that’s exactly what it is, what it feels like. This isn’t a birth plan, it’s a list of demands that do not take your wants or needs into consideration in the slightest.

“Everything okay?” Jungkook’s voice breaks through your mental tirade.

You stop in your tracks, eyes snapping up to meet his. Jungkook is standing in your living room, a small pile of laundry sitting on the couch that he seems to be in the middle of folding.

It takes you a moment to decide how to answer him. All the while, his eyes remain open and vulnerable on yours. You chew your lip, feeling angry tears prick at the backs of your eyes.

“No.”

The moment that word is out of your mouth, tears follow it, coursing down your cheeks in hot, twin streaks. Jungkook abandons the shirt in his hands and crosses the living room to you in an instant. His hands land on your shoulders, and his eyes flick over your face and body, searching for signs of anything physically wrong.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Your fist tightens around the list before you hold it up and offer it to him. “Have you seen this?”

Jungkook takes the sheaf of paper and quickly scans the first page before flipping through the others. “A birth plan? Did you make this?”

“Jiyoon did. Apparently, these are the things she wants—no, demands—for when I give birth.”

“What?” His eyes come up to meet yours. “Some of this stuff is kind of…I don’t know, like this,” he says, pointing to the fifth bullet on the page. “Getting induced two weeks early? Shouldn’t that be a decision your doctor talks to you about? Also, support persons who are allowed in the room. I can understand Jiyoon and me, maybe her parents, sure. But Dani? I didn’t even think you and Dani were friends like that.”

“Because we’re not. This entire list is everything she wants, her support people, her wishes for how things go, and not once has she asked me what I want.” Your voice rises in pitch as you plow on, “I guess it doesn’t matter, though, does it? Because, as she’s made it clear, it’s not my baby, after all.”

Jungkook shakes his head, a muscle along his jaw ticking as he presses his lips into a thin line. “Don’t say it like that. You matter. This matters. You need bodily autonomy over a lot of these decisions. And if you don’t want someone in the room, they won’t be. If you want an epidural, as long as the doctor says it’s okay, then it’s okay. That’s what’s important. What you want and what the doctor says is okay. I’m sorry she did this. I’ll talk to her about it.”

“Because you’re going home, right?” You don’t mean to sound so sad when you say it, but it slips out before you can control your emotions. Maybe it’s the hormones, but the swinging from hot to cold makes you want to scream. You’re usually such a well-collected person.

“I—” Jungkook hesitates, his eyes searching yours “—I need to. What Jiyoon did isn’t right, and going home isn’t me accepting her apology and forgiving her. But I can’t keep sleeping on your couch. I’m going to stay in our guest room as I work through the mess inside my head.”

You know he can hear the resignation in your voice. “Okay, if that’s what you think is best.”

“I think I do. But…there is only one way to be certain, right? Clearly things have been coming to a head between Jiyoon and me for a while now. I’m sorry you’re now in the middle of this. That’s the last thing I wanted when I asked you to be our surrogate. I can’t say that enough, this was never how it was supposed to be.” To your surprise, Jungkook slowly wraps his arms around you. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, Jungkook, that’s okay. Thank you.”

“I promise I’m going to talk to Jiyoon about that birthing plan. It’s unacceptable. You matter, okay? You’re important.”

Maybe to him, you are. But to Jiyoon? You’ve never been more unsure of where you stand. The friend you once knew is not the same woman who has been parading around in the guise of your best friend. You’re not sure who she is anymore…or if you want to give her your baby.

“And Jungkook?” you say as he turns away to go back to his laundry. “Be careful, okay?” You allow yourself a moment of vulnerability, brushing your fingers across the cut of his jaw, where just a week ago, there rested another reason for your uncertainty.

Your heart stutters in your chest at his small nod of acknowledgement. A truth, one you had hoped would remain speculation, reflects in his wide, doe eyes. An uncertainty now confirmed, another crack in the foundation…you’ve never been more scared to shatter.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

Moving back home might have been a mistake. Jiyoon is clingier than ever, but it’s not in a way that feels natural to Jungkook. He once found so much joy in her tender affection and gentle touches. Now, however, he can’t help but pull away, giving her as polite a smile as he can.

There is something that has been bothering him that he can’t seem to make sense of. Ever since he moved back home a week ago, Jiyoon has completely and utterly changed her tune. Not once has she said a biting remark or yelled at him. Not that he’s complaining, per se. It’s just completely thrown him, he’s not sure how to process it. She’s almost being too nice.

Hell, she even gracefully accepted his explanation as to why the birthing plan she made was unacceptable. Jungkook tried to keep a level head when you showed him that ridiculous list, but he was so mad he could hardly think. The only thing that kept him from losing his mind was the fact he knew you needed him more than he needed to be mad. He’s still not sure what the hell Jiyoon was thinking when she made it. But, she didn’t so much as try to counter his argument when he confronted her about it. She just agreed with him and promised she’d make it right with you.

That’s another thing he can’t seem to stop thinking about. You’ve also been different the last week, only in the opposite way Jiyoon has. You’ve not berated him, but you’ve suddenly become more standoffish and distant. Maybe it’s because he’s not spending every night eating dinner with you or watching movies while he massages your feet, but even before all that you were warmer than you are now.

Which is why he’s trying to corner Taehyung right now before he goes back for hair and makeup. He needs to talk to someone who is relatively unbiased and can maybe help him sort his thoughts properly.

“Taehyung, hey, wait up a second.”

“Yo, JK, what’s up?” Taehyung spins on his heel, catching himself on the doorframe to the dressing room.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

Taehyung pokes his head inside the room, and Jungkook can hear his muffled voice as he talks to the staff. “Yep, it’ll just take a moment. I promise I won’t touch the clip,” he says, turning back towards Jungkook. “You’ve got me for ten minutes.”

Jungkook lets out a breath of relief. He feels like he might explode if he doesn’t get all of this off his chest soon. Taehyung is already wearing a dark pin-stripped suit with a deep v and no shirt underneath. A gold chain and pendant sit perfectly in the open front, complementing the ochre thick-strapped sandals on his feet. There is a small hairpin holding the front of his hair into a suave coif that he, despite saying he wouldn’t, pokes at before following Jungkook to a small seating area across the space.

They’re shooting at an old estate today, styling and posing for various fashion items. Jungkook already went through hair and makeup and his first round of photos. He’s just waiting now for his wardrobe change and his cue to be back with the photographer.

“Do you think it was a bad idea for me to have gone back home?”

Taehyung taps his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Why are you asking?”

“I…I don’t know.” And that’s the truth of it. “Things just have been weird since we had that one big argument. It’s like no matter what I do or tell myself, she makes me feel like I’m walking on eggshells.”

“Or is it that you realize you might have enjoyed staying with a certain manager more than you thought you would?” Taehyung raises a brow, and Jungkook scowls at him.

“Don’t even start on that. Of course I would feel comfortable there. It wasn’t a hostile environment.”

“So you agree that the environment where Jiyoon is concerned is a hostile one.”

“That’s not what I said,” Jungkook groans. “Is it?”

“Sounds like it to me.” Taehyung shrugs. Jungkook values Taehyung for his brutal honesty, so instead of insisting his friend stop, he lets him continue. “Look, you know I love you and just want you to be happy. But, if Jiyoon is telling the truth and that baby is yours, then you have two kids coming into this world, and you really need to get your shit figured out.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do, JK. Those babies aren’t going to wait for you to get your shit together. They’re coming in a matter of weeks, whether you’ve got it all figured out or not. I know you and Jiyoon have had a long go at it. You’ve been together for longer than anyone else we know. But, you need to ask yourself if she is the kind of mother you want for your kids. And before you insist she is, I want you to truly think about everything that has transpired. I mean, look at what she said about you and someone who is supposedly her best friend. Someone doesn’t just say that shit because they’re mad. They sure as hell shouldn’t hit anyone because of it, either. There is something going on with Jiyoon—” he taps the side of his head “—up here. And there isn’t a single person who wouldn’t agree that no kid deserves to be brought into a volatile environment. I know that’s not what you had envisioned when you first brought up wanting to have a family.”

“You’re right. But…there’s something else. Something that is maybe making all of this so much worse.”

Jungkook’s knee bounces, nerves wholly consuming him as he prepares to tell Taehyung something he’s only thought about until now. He’s been worried that if he put words to it then it would make it real, but he knows it already is.

Taehyung grins knowingly, the curve of his lips soft and not as teasing as it might usually be. “This should be good. Let’s hear it.”

Your name comes out in a hushed whisper. “I feel like she’s been avoiding me, and it’s driving me crazy. Ever since I went back home, she’s been so distant. I’m worried that she’s upset or something.”

“Well, there is this thing we like to call communication. Have you tried it?”

Jungkook rubs his hands over his face, heedless of messing up his makeup. “I have tried, but it seems like the only thing she wants to talk about is work or baby appointments. It’s like she’s fully in surrogate mode, and that’s all I get.”

“And do you want more?” Taehyung asks, clearly probing to help Jungkook process his thoughts.

“I want her—I want…I don’t know. I care about her. I want her to at least act like my friend,” Jungkook says lamely. Because if there is one thing he’s not sure he’s ready to touch with a twenty-foot pole, it’s the complicated feelings he’s trying to figure out when it comes to you—feelings he’s not sure are real or just a trauma-coping mechanism resulting from his discourse with Jiyoon.

Taehyung claps Jungkook on the shoulder as he stands up. “I need to get in there, but maybe you should ask her to meet up with you. Something strictly not work-related. Maybe get ice cream, or whatever it is pregnant women crave these days. See if you can sus out some more of those feelings I know you got clanging around in there.” His hand moves up from Jungkook’s shoulder to poke the side of his head. “Get all those thoughts out in the open before you go crazy, my friend.”

You agree to meet him for ice cream the next day, provided Jungkook agrees to make an appointment to get new headshots done. With the haircut he got weeks back, it’s needed anyway, so it was easy to accept.

The weather is warming up, and it feels good standing in the sun. It’s been so long since Jungkook allowed himself a moment to breathe and enjoy something so mundane, like the feeling of the sun warming his cheeks.

He’s waiting outside the small walk-up ice cream shop that’s situated in the middle of the park. You agreed to meet him here before an appointment you have with Taehyung. He’s working on some cover spread for a magazine or something like that.

“Sun’s nice, huh?”

Jungkook’s eyes pop open, and he glances back over his shoulder. The sight of you would bring any man to his knees, Jungkook thinks, his own legs giving a little wobble. The floral sundress paired with the sage cardigan Jungkook bought you makes you look like you just stepped off the pages of a romance novel. The wind catches a few stray lengths of your hair and tosses it across your face, drawing Jungkook’s attention to your smile.

“You’re beautiful. Um, I mean, the sun. It’s beautiful. Such a nice day out. Perfect for ice cream.”

You press your fingers against your lips, suppressing a giggle that Jungkook wishes you’d let him hear. “Shall we?” Those same fingers flick in the direction of the ice cream shop.

Jungkook leads the way to the window. “Mint chocolate chip? Cookies and cream?” he asks, trying to think of the different ice cream flavors he’s seen in your freezer.

“Mmm,” you hum, your hand resting over your belly in an absentminded fashion. “I actually think I want a strawberry bungeoppang ice cream.

Chuckling, Jungkook nods. “You read my mind.” He orders two of the fish-shaped ice creams and opens one of the packages before handing it to you.

“I haven’t had one of these in forever,” you say, taking a bite and making a sound of delight.

“Really? That’s sad,” Jungkook teases. “Next time I’m at the grocery store, I’ll grab you a box.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” There is a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as you glance sideways at Jungkook and he wants to capture this moment and never let it go.

So, he does just that, slipping his phone from his pocket and snapping a picture.

The smile slowly disappears from your face. “What?” he asks, looking at you over the top edge of his screen.

“Why are you doing that?”

Jungkook takes another photo, this one with your face more stoic but your eyes no less full of emotion. You don’t exactly look sad, but there is a hint of sadness there, drifting along with the uncertainty in your eyes.

Jungkook looks down at his phone, ice cream forgotten in his other hand. “Because these are important moments that I want to share with my son one day.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Jungkook nods to a park bench. “Of course. Want to sit?”

It feels like forever passes in silence. You sit there and nibble at your ice cream, and Jungkook finally opens his and finishes it in three bites, not wanting to have any sort of distraction. This is supposed to be his time to talk to you, to see what’s going on and figure out why you’ve been acting so weird toward him. He hopes that’s what you want to ask him about.

“What’s going to happen after?”

“After?”

“Once the baby is born. Then what? When I first agreed to do this, the only thing I thought about was the happiness it would bring to you and Jiyoon. But—but the further along this goes, the more shit that happens…the more I can’t stop thinking about how hard it’s going to be to give him up. And I know that’s probably the last thing you want to hear, and please, I swear I’m not going to change my mind about giving you the baby. But, I don’t know that I really thought about the fact that I’m going to be growing a life, spending almost ten months loving this life, to then give them away and pretend like nothing happened.”

“Is that what you think? That as soon as we have the baby, we’re just going to pretend like nothing happened? Is that why you’ve been so withdrawn lately?” Jungkook turns on the bench, drawing one of his knees up so he can look at you fully. “That is not going to happen. This baby, my son, is going to know who you are and what you did for him.”

He can tell you don’t really believe that. “No offense, Jungkook, but I don’t exactly see Jiyoon being okay with that. There’s something going on with her lately, and I don’t even know if our friendship is going to survive this.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “We’ll make it all work out. I know we can. You guys have been friends for practically your entire lives. This is just a bump in the road, right? We’ll figure it out, together…all three of us. And, um, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about, too. Now that we’re on the subject of the babies and what comes after.”

“What is it?” You put the last bite of your bungeoppang in your mouth and chew it slowly as you wait for him to continue.

Maybe he’s jumping the gun in this, but he thinks it might help you with what you’re feeling right now. And besides, he has talked to Jiyoon about it, and even if she was adamantly against it, he’s certain she’ll come around eventually.

“How would you feel about being the babies’ guardian? Like if something were to ever happen to me or Jiyoon, they would both come to you. If you’d want that, that is. I know two kids would be a lot for someone to take on, but I think if I could choose anyone to raise my kids if I couldn’t, it would be you. You’re already doing such a good job with my son,” Jungkook says with a loving inflection in his tone.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

And no matter what, he’ll make that happen because the smile that’s now gracing your face is worth any amount of arguing with Jiyoon over it. You deserve so much more from this whole fucked up situation.

💔💔💔

“You look like you could use a hug.” Taehyung startles you with an arm across your shoulders, giving you half of said hug. “What’s got you looking so blue, boss?”

You hurried from your impromptu ice cream meetup with Jungkook and went straight to the spread shoot for Taehyung, meaning you haven’t had much time to process everything Jungkook said.

“There aren’t enough minutes left in the day to even begin,” you mutter, vigorously clicking through files on your tablet. “This agreement is a fucking mile long. How do they expect me to read it all and get it back to them in a timely manner?”

“‘Fucking’?” Taehyung says, amused. “Something must be up if you’re dropping words like that. Come on, we have a few minutes, you can at least give me the footnotes. My agreement with that cologne brand can wait.” His long fingers pinch the tablet from your hands and bring it to rest against his chest. “Out with it.”

You twist your fingers in the skirt of your dress as you try to decide where to begin. Taehyung isn’t just your client. You consider him a friend as well. And maybe getting an outside perspective is exactly what you need right now.

“Do you think I’m crazy for doing this?” you ask, moving one of your hands to rest over your belly. “You’re the one that brought it up, to begin with, after all.” You add on that last part, recalling the night of your birthday when Taehyung instigated the entire surrogacy conversation.

Taehyung winces. “I did do that, didn’t I? As far as you being crazy? No, I wouldn’t say crazy. Maybe just far too kind for your own good. If I had known you’d actually go along with it, I might not have brought it up that night.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm,” he makes an agreeable sound. “Do you feel crazy?”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Understatement of the year. I feel like I’m losing it, I have no idea what I’m doing…how I ended up six months pregnant with not a clue what the future holds and feelings I can’t—” You cut yourself off before you say something you’re going to regret.

“Feelings?” Taehyung prods, not letting you get away with that near slip-up.

“It doesn’t matter. Just drop it.”

Taehyung raises a hand. “No, no. You can’t say that and then not explain. I promise you’ll feel better once it’s out in the open.”

“I don’t know about that. Feelings are messy and have never done me any good anyway.” You take your tablet back from Taehyung. “I need to get this offer submitted and you’ll be needed back on set soon.”

“Feelings may be messy, but they are valid. Don’t keep them hidden away in that pretty head of yours. That’ll do nobody any good.”

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth before forcing yourself to let it go, along with the hold on your emotions. “These feelings won’t do anyone any good, Taehyung. Because they’re feelings that can’t mean anything. Not without completely destroying everything.”

There is a moment where Taehyung considers you, his eyes flicking over your figure before landing back on your eyes. All you see there is empathy and understanding.

“This is about Jungkook, isn’t it?”

It’s not worth the effort to argue with Taehyung or convince him otherwise. So, you shrug. “Is it that obvious?”

“As obvious as it is that he shares the same sentiment.”

“Don’t be crazy,” you laugh. “That’s not—”

“That’s not as crazy as you think it is. You’ve both always danced around one another, even back before Jiyoon came into the picture.”

“But, she did, and that’s what matters, Taehyung. Now, forget about this nonsense and keep your mouth shut, okay? Get back to makeup, you smudged your eyeliner.”

As Taehyung walks away, you can’t shake what he said. Jungkook is feeling as conflicted as you are? That’s not possible. He moved back home so he and Jiyoon could work things out. There is no room for you and what’s going on in your head in that equation. You might be on the outs with Jiyoon, but that doesn’t give you the right to let your ‘feelings’ get in the way of Jungkook’s happiness.

Right?

You puff out your cheeks, trying not to voice another complaint as you follow along the dirt path behind Jungkook. He wouldn’t tell you more than to meet him at the park and wear something cute. So, here you are, another day and in another sundress, this one a solid turquoise color with a scalloped neckline.

“How much farther are we going? I’m six months pregnant, and if I walk much farther, you’re going to owe me a foot massage.”

Jungkook laughs, tossing a look of pure carefree delight over his shoulder at you. “I promise it’s not much farther, just over this rise. And if you want a foot massage, all you have to do is ask.”

“You’ll owe me two, then,” you grumble to yourself.

All your complaints dry to dust on your tongue as you finally crest the top of the rise in the path, coming to stand beside Jungkook. Spread out before you is an entire field of wildflowers. All of varying colors, their stalks long and willowy in the light breeze blowing off the ocean beyond.

The deep blue water laps and kisses at the distant shoreline, the roar of the surf soft from this distance. It’s a breathtaking sight, the sun bright and warm overhead, glittering along the glassy surface before scattering into a dance as the waves break on the golden sand. The wildflowers wave in the wind as if to cheer on the waves’ dance of the tides.

“Do you want that foot massage now or later? Jungkook asks, his voice soft with his own awe.

You turn to him, forcing your eyes away from one dazzling sight to focus on another. His hair feathers across his forehead, tossed about by the intermittent ocean breeze. A hint of salt licks along your senses, carrying with it the soft, fragrant notes of the wildflowers.

“What are we doing here?”

His eyes meet yours, and his mouth tilts in a smile. “I thought it might be nice to take some pictures. If you’re okay with that, that is. Dani is planning some elaborate maternity shoot for Jiyoon this weekend, and it’s apparently girls only. She wants to do a second one with me when she’s further along. But, that doesn’t matter right now, I just thought…well, we could do a maternity shoot for you. If you want. No pressure, we can just enjoy the view if you’d rather not.”

That conversation you had with Taehyung a week ago threatens to spill out. Is Jungkook feeling as conflicted as you are right now? If you say yes to the maternity shoot, does that mean you’d rather not just spend the time with him? If you say no to the maternity shoot, does that mean you only want to spend the time with him and, therefore, might be crossing some sort of invisible line in the sand?

Is it possible to do both? You wait for the wave of guilt to hit at having such a thought about Jiyoon’s husband. But, it doesn’t come. If anything, you feel a light giddiness at the fact Jungkook thought of all of this for you.

“We can always take some photos and then enjoy the view?” you offer, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

Jungkook swings the bag he was carrying off his shoulder. “I think my view will be good either way,” he counters with a pleasant, teasing tone.

Did he just call you a good view? You try to not let that go to your head. Clearly, he’s just being polite to the woman carrying one of his babies.

“Sure,” you laugh, playing it off. “What do you want me to do?”

He pulls out a large DSLR camera and a tripod which he sets on the ground beside his bag. “Just act natural. Pretend the camera isn’t here.” You catch his smirk behind the camera before you roll your eyes, trying to suppress your own smile. The sound of the shutter clicks, and you try to push everything else out of your mind.

Jungkook moves like a natural with the camera, crouching and turning this way and that in order to capture the best angles as he follows you through the meadow of wildflowers, the ocean at your side in the distance.

“The golden hour is coming.” You glance back at him over your shoulder and see the absolute adoration in his eyes as you know the sun is silhouetting your body, accentuating your bump. The shutter clicks in quick succession.

Jungkook lowers the camera, and the adoration that was there moments ago turns into what you can only describe as uncertainty. “Would you be okay taking some with me?”

“Like, with you in them?”

“Yeah, but only if you’re comfortable with that.”

His consideration really knows no bounds. “Of course, I’m okay with that. He’s your baby, after all.”

“But it’s your body,” he says pointedly. All you can do is nod, watching as he returns to his bag and retrieves the tripod.

Jungkook sets up the stand, screwing the base holder into his camera before snapping it in place atop the tripod. He plays with the angles and height before nodding to himself, satisfied.

“I didn’t realize you knew so much about photography.” It shouldn’t surprise you, but Jungkook spends most of his time in front of a camera and not behind one, so it never clicked before.

He approaches you. The casual white button-down he is wearing open over a light blue tank top is a nice coincidence—a perfect match to your dress. At least, you think it’s a coincidence. It’s not like Jungkook knew you were going to wear this dress today. He plucks one of the wildflowers before tucking it in behind your ear, the feather-soft petals tickling your temple.

“I guess you can add it to my list of secret talents.”

“Just how many hidden talents do you have?” One of your brows rises, and a cheeky smile slants your lips.

His eyes hold yours as he sinks down to his knees in front of you, causing your smile to slip and your teasing cheek to be replaced with mild alarm.

“They wouldn’t be secret if I shared them all with you just yet.” One of his hands comes up to cup the side of your belly. “Is this okay?” he asks, completely throwing you off with the sudden change in subject.

You have to work your tongue inside your mouth to gather enough moisture so you can swallow before answering. “That’s fine.”

“Relax. Act natural, remember?”

Sure. Only there’s nothing natural about what’s happening. No matter where you stand with Jiyoon right now, you know for a guaranteed fact that she would have a problem with this. The way Jungkook looks like he’s worshipping at your feet, the fervent love shining in his eyes as they trace the contours of your belly.

You clear your throat. “Do you have the camera on a timer?”

“It’s set to take a photo every few seconds for the next ten minutes. Tell me if any of this makes you uncomfortable.” 

His other hand presses to the other side of your belly, and his forehead comes to rest right below your navel. “It’s not uncom—oh,” you laugh, the action shaking your body slightly.

Jungkook peers up at you with eyes wider than you’ve ever seen before. “Was that…what I think it was?” The bump comes again, and he snaps his eyes to your belly, his mouth forming a giant smile. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“He’s saying hi to his father,” you murmur softly, heart melting at the pure elation on Jungkook’s face.

“Hi, baby,” Jungkook coos, and the little one moves again, making you mirror Jungkook’s smile. Your heart jerks in your chest when Jungkook presses his lips to your belly, planting a kiss where his forehead once rested.

You know it’s probably wrong, and you should ask him to stop, but you can’t bring yourself to break this spell—not yet, at least. If this is something you can give Jungkook, then you’ll let him have it. It’s not like anyone else is going to see these photos, anyway. This pregnancy isn’t really yours to celebrate, not like this.

But you decide to enjoy it for as long as you can—your own private celebration. Jungkook might not belong to you, and that’s something you accepted a long time ago, but these moments will be yours to hold forever—even if the baby won’t be.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

The weeks following moving back in have Jungkook questioning so much about his life. Maybe it’s just the raw vulnerability of what happened between him and Jiyoon, but Jungkook feels like he’s been living on the edge of sanity. Even if it was a lie, it still planted a small seed of doubt in his mind. One that he whole-heartedly feels guilty for and wishes would go the fuck away.

He blames it for the way he eyes Jiyoon’s phone any time it chimes or the way he’s tempted to pick it up when she’s in the shower. It’s not that he wants to go through it, not really…only, actually, he does. He wants to give himself assurances, confirm that there is nothing on there that she’s hiding.

Jungkook knows Jiyoon has many clients who constantly need her attention. It’s no different than you; he knows that. You seem to always be getting a stream of messages, emails, or phone calls whenever he’s around you. That’s just part of the job. Yet…yet, Jungkook can’t seem to shake the desire to just check, to be certain.

It doesn’t help that he’s caught Jiyoon on the phone in the middle of the night. He never let her know he saw her or heard her girlish giggles. But each instance has only added to his mounting paranoia, to the point that he does what he’s promised himself he’d never do.

He looks through her phone.

And the guilt that consumes him tenfold when he finds nothing incriminating at all has him knocking on the door across the hall in an effort not to lose his mind completely.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Jimin answers the door in a pair of low-slung silk pants and no shirt. His hair is mussed, but if the equally shirtless man standing behind him is any indicator, it’s not from sleep.

“Is Taehyung here?”

Jimin gestures for Jungkook to come in. “Yeah, he’s in his studio. This is my friend, Hoseok. Hoseok, this is Jungkook. He’s one of the OG models from Kim Exclusives.”

“How’s it going?” Hoseok says, a smirk tugging at his lips as Jimin palms his hip.

Jungkook just nods, skirting around them and heading down the hall to Taehyung's studio. It’s one of the spare rooms turned into an art space where Taehyung likes to lose himself in his spare time.

After a few moments, his knock on the door is answered. Taehyung is wearing a linen smock, the front of which is splattered with paint of varying degrees of drying.

“Jungkook.” Taehyung’s brow pinches. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m about to go fucking crazy is what I’m doing here.”

Giving him a once over, Taehyung lets Jungkook into the room and flicks his hand at an empty stool. “I should start charging you by the hour. What’s the going rate of therapists these days?”

“I’ll buy you one of those fancy bottles of soju that you like so much,” Jungkook sighs, dropping onto the hard surface of the stool.

“Deal. Now, out with it, before you ruin my groove here.”

Taehyung sprawls out on a worn-out leather chaise, the edges cracked and dappled in paint. His eyes remain on Jungkook. Despite looking like he could care less, Jungkook knows Taehyung is being attentive, and a better friend than he probably deserves.

“I think something is going on with Jiyoon.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if it’s just my paranoia because of what she said all those weeks ago, or if I’m just seeing things where I want to see them and turning innocent shit into malicious things…I feel like I’m going insane.”

“Continue,” Taehyung encourages, making a ‘come on’ motion with his hand.

Jungkook takes a slow breath, using the moment to collect his thoughts. “I’ve found Jiyoon on the phone at weird hours, in the middle of the night. I would think she’s just talking to a client, and maybe she is, but the way she giggles and talks…it just sounds like, fuck, like the way she used to talk to me. And I know that sounds insane, and I’m probably making something out of nothing, but it’s just so weird. Maybe I never noticed it before, but it’s happening all the time.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung makes a thoughtful sound before gesturing for Jungkook to keep going.

“Her phone is constantly going off, and I keep seeing the same name pop up: Dohyun Kim. I know he’s an actor, and he’s contracted under Kim Exclusives, but I don’t know much else. I’m not really part of the actor's circle. And he could be her client. In fact, I’m pretty sure he is. I just…why is she on the phone with him at 2 AM giggling like she has a crush?”

“Is that all that’s bothering you?” Taehyung asks in a way that tells Jungkook he wants to hear everything before giving his opinion or any advice.

Jungkook rubs the heels of his palms over his eyes before giving Taehyung a tired look. “No,” he says so softly that Taehyung has to lean forward to hear him. “I’ve been experiencing these feelings…and it makes me feel like such a hypocrite. I’m such a fucking asshole, worried that Jiyoon is lying to me when I might as well be lying to her.”

“About?” Taehyung prompts.

“I can’t stop thinking about her,” Jungkook confesses, his voice even softer than before.

“A certain manager who is carrying your baby?”

“Yeah. Dammit, Taehyung. What am I doing? I’m married, for fucks sake!”

Taehyung leans back and crosses an ankle over his knee. “You realize you’re just human, right? You just spent several days thinking the woman you’ve been in love with and shared a life with for over six years had betrayed you. Even if it was a lie, that shit still hurts and is going to leave a lasting mark, man. You can’t be expected to simply shrug it off and continue like life is normal. Your life is anything but normal. For one, your wife, who supposedly has been unable to have kids for years, suddenly pops up pregnant just weeks after you impregnate her best friend. I don’t know about you, Jungkook, and I’m no genius with numbers, but the math isn’t mathing. And for two, it doesn’t surprise me if you’re feeling a bit more connected to the one woman who hasn’t lied to you about a baby.”

“Jiyoon didn’t lie, though—”

Taehyung cuts off Jungkook’s rebuttal. “She did lie. At least, if the baby is yours, then what she said about it not being was a lie, right?”

Jungkook presses his lips into a thin line because he can’t argue with that. Technically it was a lie, if…

“What do you mean ‘if the baby is mine’?”

Leaning forward, Taehyung drops his foot back to the floor and rests his elbows on his knees. “I’m going to say this in the nicest way I possibly can. Married women don’t giggle on the phone with a client at 2 AM. If she’s on the phone with her mom, sure. Her sister? Absolutely. Dani? I’d believe it. But, if you’re telling me she’s on the phone giggling with Dohyun Kim, a client, at 2 AM…I’d say it sounds like you have a problem.”

Cold chills pop up along Jungkook’s arms and down the back of his neck. “Okay,” he says slowly, trying to let his brain process everything Taehyung just said.

“And then there is the issue with your boss,” Taehyung continues as if he didn’t just drop a bomb of realization on Jungkook. “You’re clearly into her, and don’t give me that look. You’re acting the same way you did when you first got signed on with Kim Exclusives. In case you’ve forgotten, you were so smitten with your new manager that you made the rookie mistake of talking to her boss about your crush and nearly got released from your contract. It was only because Namjoon added Jiyoon to your management profile that you were allowed to stay on with them. Jiyoon knew you had a thing for her friend, so she did her best to weasel her way into your heart. Perhaps she wasn’t as successful as she might have thought, it seems.” Taehyung’s eyes flick over Jungkook in silent appraisal. “Yeah, not all that successful at all. Looks like you got a lot to think about, my friend.”

Sighing, Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “You know, I came over here to get your help, not have you complicate it even more.”

“It doesn’t seem all that complicated if you ask me. In fact, it all seems pretty clear to me…you just have to want to see it.”

That’s it, though, isn’t it? Jungkook is afraid he already can see it…the light you provide reveals a lot about the darkness he’s been blinded by. He can’t help but think back to the night he held your hand as you lay there on your bathroom floor, having just done one of the most selfless things any one person could do for another.

Some might say that’s a different kind of love, a different kind of affection…but what if it isn’t? What if it was just pulling back the curtain on something that was always meant to be?

💔💔💔

A shadow falls across your desk, causing you to pause in responding to the text message you just received from Jungkook confirming that he’ll be able to attend your thirty-week appointment that’s coming up.

You look up, meeting the cold gaze of your once best friend. Things have been cordial between you and Jiyoon, but neither of you has exactly made much of an effort to actually patch things up. If it wasn’t for Jungkook—if it wasn’t for the baby in your belly that’s growing for her—you’d probably have washed yourself of her friendship completely.

The conversation you had with Jungkook last night still hangs over you like a raincloud. You talked about the legal papers that you’ve yet to sign. The ones that would give all legal rights over to Jungkook and Jiyoon. He wants you to wait to sign them only after the baby is born, just in case. Just in case of what, he didn’t elaborate on. But, it’s becoming clearer to you that despite Jungkook attempting to mend their relationship, not everything is as pretty as it may seem on the outside when it comes to them.

“Is there something I can do for you?” you ask, setting your phone down on your desk. Jiyoon’s eyes follow the device, narrowing slightly before you click the power button to turn off the display. Maybe it was a mistake to make your phone background one of the few maternity photos Jungkook sent you as a taste of what was to come, the rest waiting for him to finish editing them.

You expect her to comment on the photo, but instead, she asks, “Are you really having a baby shower?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What’s this?” she asks, handing you a small folded card.

You take it. It’s white on the back and blue on the front with a small carriage with a bear inside of it. At the top, in silver lettering, it says ‘Join Us’. The inside boasts a small message with a time and date.

While you don’t want to throw Jungkook under the bus on this one, it was technically his idea. You tell Jiyoon as much. “Jungkook thought it would be a good idea. Just some clients and close friends—”

“But, what do you need a baby shower for? It’s not even your baby.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “You act like I’m not aware of that. You realize that anything I get is going to be for the baby, regardless of where he ends up living. But, this isn’t even really a baby shower—” you shake the folded invitation “—it’s just a pregnancy shower. As in, an opportunity for people to maybe gift me the things I’m going to need during recovery after I have him.”

Anger twists her lips, and her nostrils flare as she stares down at you. “You didn’t think to maybe include me in this?”

Shoving the invitation back at her, you throw your hands up. “I’m not the one who planned it. Take that up with your husband, Jiyoon. This was all his idea. So, if you want to squawk and fume at someone, it’s not me. Now, if you please, I have some work to do.”

“Sure, okay. Blame Jungkook for this. That’s so like you, putting the blame off on someone else.”

Jiyoon takes a startled step backward as you shoot up from your seat. “You need to back off and leave me alone.”

Not wanting to face this any longer, for the good of your own mental health, you skirt around her and head to the breakroom. You occupy your hands by mixing a flavor packet into a bottle of water you grab from the fridge.

You should have known better, though, that you could escape this without actually leaving the entire building because you feel her presence behind you before her words slice right into your soul.

“I’ll back off when you stop trying to make everything about you! You don’t need a party for people to bring you things. You’re just using my baby to fill the void in your life. I knew it from the day you agreed to this nonsense with Jungkook. You’re so desperate for something that you were willing to get fucking pregnant, by my husband…do you realize how stupid that is? You’re a fucking joke, and I can’t wait for you to have that baby so I can make sure he’s not raised by some pathetic little girl.”

The ringing in your ears intensifies as seconds pass, stretching the silence in the breakroom. Dani’s tittering laugh breaks the dam holding back your tears as she saunters into the room.

“Aw, Jiyoon, you made her cry.” Dani’s words follow you out the door and to the elevator.

You barely register passing by Taehyung as you enter the elevator. His eyes meet yours, and you see his lips moving, but the door closes before your brain can comprehend what he may have said.

This is it, the moment you’ve been trying to avoid for so long—the moment you shatter into oblivion.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

Taehyung said it was an emergency, and that Jungkook needed to meet with him immediately when he called a few minutes ago. Jimin let Jungkook into their condo, and now he’s waiting for Taehyung in his studio. There wasn’t much Taehyung would say over the phone, but by the tone of his voice, Jungkook knows it’s bad.

Jungkook is tempted to text you again, just to check in to see how you’re doing and if you’re free after work, even though he texted you only an hour or so ago. He finished editing the maternity photos this morning, and he’s excited to show them to you. But he’s waiting for the right time to do that. Jiyoon texted him not long ago to let him know that she’ll be home for dinner, but maybe if he plays his cards right, he can meet with you before that.

Just as he pulls out his phone to send you the text, the studio door swings open, and a wild-eyed Taehyung storms in, chest huffing.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Jungkook asks, standing up from the stool he was sitting on.

“Nope, sit back down. You need to be seated for this. Fucking hell, this is a mess.” Taehyung paces in front of Jungkook, periodically gripping fistfuls of his hair, making the thick chestnut waves go wild. “I need a drink,” Taehyung mutters under his breath before making a beeline for the small bottle of bourbon he keeps tucked behind some of his paint supplies in a cabinet.

“Tae, you’re starting to scare me. What’s wrong?”

Taehyung takes a deep swill straight from the bottle before shoving it at Jungkook. “You’ll want some, too.”

Jungkook slowly takes the bottle, but instead of drinking, he sets it off to the side. “Seriously, Taehyung. What’s going on?”

Throwing his hands up, Taehyung rounds on Jungkook. “It’s your goddamn wife, JK.”

“My wife? What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook. Okay—” Taehyung rubs a hand over his mouth and drops onto the stool beside the one Jungkook is sitting on. “Look. I’m going to tell you something—I seem to be doing that a lot lately—and your first instinct is going to be to not believe me—I know that. But I really need you to listen and know that I wouldn’t be telling you this if I hadn’t heard it directly from her mouth.”

“Umm…okay.”

“Promise me that you’ll listen.”

The look of pure devastation on Taehyung’s face has Jungkook nodding. “Okay, I promise to listen.”

In a whisper so soft Jungkook isn’t sure he hears him correctly, Taehyung says, “The baby…it isn’t yours. She wasn’t lying about that, apparently.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jungkook balks, feeling instantly incensed. Though, whether his anger is at Taehyung or not, he’s not sure.

“You promised you would listen. Now, listen to me. I went by the office today after lunch, and as I was leaving, I could tell something had happened.” He sighs your name, “I passed her as I was getting off the elevator and it was clear she was upset over something. I overheard that bitch Dani laughing in the breakroom, so I went in that direction, knowing she probably had something to do with it. But…I didn’t expect—what I didn’t expect was that I’d catch the tail end of a whispered conversation between Dani and Jiyoon. Their heads were pressed together, but Dani’s big mouth is loud even when she’s whispering. She was asking Jiyoon if she had told that fucker Dohyun that the baby was his or not. From what I could piece together from the rest of what I heard, Jiyoon’s baby is his, but he doesn’t want anything to do with it because he’s married with two kids of his own already! I knew you were on to something with your suspicions, but fuck.”

Jungkook knows he should react a certain way right now. Yet, he can’t seem to muster up the anger and indignation that should be swallowing him whole. If anything…if anything, what he feels is something akin to relief. He can’t help but wonder if that makes him a bad person.

If Taehyung had told him this months ago, Jungkook would have probably punched his best friend in the face and called him every name in the book. But now—he almost feels numb when he considers the fact that Jiyoon was telling the truth a few weeks ago. Maybe it’s because he used up all of his anger and resentment then that there is none left now, when it seems to matter the most.

It doesn’t help that Jungkook’s felt like he was on the outside looking in ever since he moved back home. Jiyoon might have been overly enthusiastic, but she was still firmly on the other side of the invisible line that Jungkook only realizes now that he drew for himself.

“I need to go,” Jungkook says quietly.

“Hey.” Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s arm as he slips off his stool. “You call me if you need me, okay?”

“Thanks.”

Jungkook moves swiftly, almost blindly. He goes across the hall, throws some clothes in a bag, and collects his toothbrush from the bathroom before he’s on the move again.

“Hello?” At the first sound of your scratchy voice, Jungkook’s mind instantly switches gears. His problems are immediately inconsequential to whatever is ailing you.

“Where are you right now?”

You sniffle and clear your throat before answering. “I went home early. Why? Is everything okay?” You’ve been crying. Clearly, things are not okay, and Jungkook won’t be able to deal with his issues until he takes care of you first.

“No, everything is not okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Jungkook is out of breath by the time he’s knocking on your door, having sprinted from his car straight up the stairs of your building because the elevator was taking too long.

The door swings open before Jungkook can bring his knuckles forward to knock a second time. You don’t protest when he wraps his arms around you and ushers you back so he can close the door.

“You said everything wasn’t okay.” Your voice is muffled by your face pressed against his chest. “What’s going on?”

“That’s not important right now. Tell me what’s got you so upset,” Jungkook urges, releasing you just enough that you can look up and meet his worried gaze.

You shake your head, more tears finding their way onto your cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jungkook moves you over to the couch and helps you sit down, kneeling at your feet with your hands clasped in his. “Please, tell me.”

He hates the way your shoulders tremble, and every tear that tracks down your cheeks is another blow to his chest. He’s never seen you this upset before, so he knows it’s something bad…something that Jiyoon caused if what Taehyung said was any indicator. But he needs you to tell him; needs you to open up and say it.

“I don’t want to upset you,” you whisper, the words breaking Jungkook’s heart because, of course, you would try to put his feelings before your own wellbeing. You’re far too good for him, for any of them, really.

He squeezes your hands. “I promise, you can say whatever it is you need to say, and it’ll be okay.”

Jungkook listens to you, his anger and horror at such vile things growing with every confession you release. Once you finish explaining what happened at the office today, you surprise him by including other incidents that he wasn’t aware of, like that one lunch you’ve tried so hard to forget.

“I don’t know why I didn’t reach out to you then, see if you were actually going along with the whole ‘there are options’ thing. I mean, an abortion? Why the fuck would I abort this baby just because Jiyoon so happened to get pregnant. It was something I had completely forgotten about, or maybe just intentionally blocked out, until today. Fucking hell, Jungkook, she practically told me to get rid of it because it wasn’t needed since she’s pregnant…who does that? I’m sorry. I know she’s your wife, and you love her…but I can’t do this. I can’t, in good faith, have this baby and let her take him.” You begin to sob in earnest, your words turning into barely coherent pleas and apologies.

If his heart wasn’t broken before, it’s completely fissured through now. “Hey, it’s okay, “ he tries to soothe you, sliding onto the couch beside you and gathering you into his arms.

Jungkook wants to scream, rant, and rave at the world for how cruel and unfair life can be sometimes. But, mostly, he feels a deep sense of guilt in having been the one to start this whole thing. If it wasn’t for him, you’d not be pregnant right now. If it wasn’t for him, Jiyoon might not be the raging bitch she has seemingly become. Maybe…just maybe—

“Stop,” you whisper. “Stop blaming yourself, I can hear the guilt in your head. None of this is your fault, Jungkook.”

He knows that’s not true, but also that there is no sense in trying to explain how much it is his fault. The best he can do right now is try to make it hurt less. “I’ll be right back,” he tells you, soothing a hand over your hair and down your back. “Your hands are freezing, I’m going to grab a blanket.”

You nod against his shoulder and relax your arms as he pulls away. The sobs have mostly subsided, but Jungkook can tell you’re far from being okay. Not wanting to waste another moment, he disappears down the hall and into your room to retrieve some comfort items and the fuzzy blanket you keep folded over the end of your bed.

When he turns, items in hand, to go back to you, he stops just short of the doorway. The sound of a familiar voice drifts to him from down the hall. Dread pours down his spine and prickles over his skin in a thin sheen of sweat.

Jiyoon is here.

💔💔💔

“Where is he? I know he’s here!”

It’s like watching a sitcom. The timing’s far too impeccable, and all that’s missing is the background laugh track. As soon as Jungkook disappears into your room, there’s a knock on the front door. Jiyoon’s the last person you expect to be standing there. Yet, here she is, her hands firmly planted on her hips and her enraged eyes slicing you from head to toe.

“It might help if you explained who you are looking for.” You know who she means, but you can’t help being purposely obtuse out of sheer spite.

She raises her hand and jabs her forefinger in your face. “Don’t play stupid with me. You know who! Jungkook. My husband.”

You take a slow breath, your eyes barely cutting to the side and beyond Jiyoon. Jungkook is peeking through your doorway, and you know he’s about to make himself known to her. His eyes meet yours, and you shake your head subtly, hoping he understands.

“If he is your husband, then why would he be here at my home?”

Jiyoon sneers. “You think you’re so goddamn cute, don’t you? I know what the two of you have been up to. I found the proof of your little love affair on his laptop, so don’t even try me. Tell me where he is, and I won’t have to make you cry again.”

You have absolutely no idea what kind of proof Jiyoon thinks she has found, but seemingly, there is something lost in translation somewhere. “Proof? What the hell are you talking about? I’ve done nothing with your husband that you, yourself, didn’t approve of.”

“That’s hilarious,” Jiyoon laughs mockingly. “Because I never wanted any of this to happen! I never wanted fucking kids to begin with! I only went along with it because it was what Jungkook wanted, and I knew he’d leave me if I told him the truth!” Her voice comes out loud and shrill, the words taking you by surprise. “But, obviously, he’s not the one I have to worry about, is he? I should have known from the moment you agreed to this nonsense that you were trying to worm your way into his life. How dare you try to ruin my marriage!”

“You…what? You never wanted kids? Jungkook wouldn’t leave you over that! He loves you, even when you’re being a complete and utter crazy person! You think I’m trying to break up your marriage? What the hell?”

She throws her hands up. “And you call yourself my best friend! What a fucking joke. No, I never wanted kids! Why would I want to give up my perfect body and my perfect life to raise some snot-nosed, grubby-handed, little brats?! I only ever went along with it because that’s what Jungkook wanted, what he begged for like a sad little puppy! Though I guess he didn’t have to beg you much, did he? You willingly went to him like a bitch in heat.”

“Jiyoon, what the hell are you even talking about?!”

She continues on as if you haven’t spoken, “I bet you feel so high and mighty, having given him exactly what he wants. That was the start of your whole plan, right? How you’ve plotted to get him to leave me? I should have just saved you the trouble and told him myself. Though, maybe he’s just too dense to realize it, because, I mean, come on. Years of supposed infertility?” she laughs again, completely humorless. “Am I just surrounded by idiots?”

There isn’t enough moisture in your mouth to speak comfortably, but you force the words out anyway, “But, you’re pregnant now. How can you say that—”

“Accidents happen! If I had known I’d get so shit-faced the weekend I found out that you were pregnant that I’d forget to take my pills on time, I’d not have let Dohyun touch me!”

You rock back on your heels, completely thrown off by her blatant admission. “Dohyun? What the hell did you do, Jiyoon? What the hell are you talking about?”

The person you once considered your closest friend throws her head back and laughs, the sound echoing from the ceiling. It’s not a humorless laugh like before, it’s full of incredulity and surprise.

“I did what any miserable woman does when their husband spends more time dreaming about babies than he does about his own wife. I found my own happiness!”

“I—I don’t understand…you love Jungkook!”

Jiyoon titters, clicking her tongue at you. “You’re so naive. Love is not real. Whatever fucked up little fantasy you have in your head about Jungkook, it’s not real. He doesn’t love you, just the same as he doesn’t love me. How I ever was friends with you, I’ll never understand. You’re so pathetic. Your delusions about Jungkook come from the fact he put a baby in you on the goddamn floor of your bathroom! I mean, come on, where is your self-respect?! If you think just because you’re birthing a child for him that it means something more, then you’re far dumber than I’ve ever given you credit for. Look at you, just look at you! Never in a million years would someone like Jungkook want someone like you if there wasn’t some sort of transaction involved! He’s mine and he’s so far gone for this baby—” she gestures to her stomach “—that he’ll never leave me no matter what. And if you think to keep that baby from him—” her hand flicks to your stomach “—you and I both know he’ll hate you forever.”

“You’re wrong, Jiyoon.” Whether Jungkook has feelings for you or not, you know nothing has happened between the two of you. And you sure as hell know that Jungkook doesn’t just care about the baby…at least, you don’t think it’s just that. “You’re not going to get away with this. Jungkook will see through your lies!”

You have to take several steps back as Jiyoon crowds into your space. “If you even think to say anything to him or to anyone else, for that matter, I will ruin you. You know I have friends in high places, far more than you do. I will make you regret every decision you’ve ever made. Now, I’m going to leave here, and if you see my husband, be a good girl and tell him to come home. Got it?”

“Why don’t you tell me yourself?”

Jungkook’s voice startles both of you, and you watch as the color drains from Jiyoon’s face. Her pouty lips open in horror. She turns slowly away from you to face Jungkook, who is now standing on the other side of the living room, his arms crossed and his eyes laser-focused on her.

“W-what are you doing here?” she asks, her body language morphing from surprise to defensive right before your eyes. “I knew he was here! You lying bitch, how dare you?!”

Before she can round on you and change the narrative once more, Jungkook quickly moves into the room and steps in front of you. “I think you need to leave,” he tells her. “Now, before you say anything else to dig your hole even deeper.”

“I don’t know what you think you heard—”

“I heard enough, Jiyoon. We both did. Leave while you have some dignity still intact, lest you forget those friends that you have in high places are really mine.”

Jiyoon at least has the grace to allow her tears to fall, showing the first sign of a genuine emotion other than rage since she stepped foot into your apartment.

“If you’d just let me expla—”

“Jiyoon,” you cut her off this time. “Leave before I call the police. Please.”

Her eyes flick between you and Jungkook. Without another word, she turns and leaves. Jiyoon might have hurt you, but you still feel the sting of your friendship crumbling. She wasn’t always good to you, may have even been downright terrible, but she was still someone you cared about for a very long time.

And you know if you’re feeling like this, Jungkook must be having it even worse. All those things she said, the lies…the deceit…dear god, everything.

“Jungkook,” you hesitate. “Are you okay?”

He blinks a few times and turns back to look at you. There are unshed tears in his eyes that give you a glimpse into what he might be feeling, but other than that, his face is completely unreadable.

“I’m not the one I’m worried about,” he tells you. “I need to know if you’re okay. Everything she said about you…about me, you have to know that none of it is true.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t somewhat believe her. Ever since she said what she did at the office, about you being so desperate to fill the void in your life that you agreed to carry a baby—your first and maybe only baby—for someone else. Someone that you care about, sure, but not for yourself…you had absolutely no thought or concern for yourself. It was all about making Jiyoon and Jungkook happy. And in that moment, you realized she was right about at least one thing; you were desperate enough to give away something so sacred for…the chance at feeling something? Pathetic.

“I…I don’t know.”

Jungkook’s arms catch you around the waist, and you realize your knees have given out. “Whoa, let’s get you on the couch.” He takes up the same position he had earlier, kneeling at your feet after you’ve sat. The touch of his skin against yours is soothing, and comforting, as he cups your face and lets his eyes roam over your features. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

The last thing you want to do right now is tell Jungkook your thoughts, but you find yourself opening up to him, letting your torrential feelings bubble out in what you’re not sure are even coherent words.

“I agreed to have this baby without thinking of myself. This is my first baby…and I was completely okay with giving it away. What kind of person does that make me? Desperate? Pathetic? Was I really just so starved for a connection that I agreed to do that…? Am I a homewrecker? Did I let your kindness color my perception and create this elaborate delusion that maybe there was something more between us? Or is it just the stupid crush I’ve had on you for years now that is making me think maybe, in the end, things would have been okay and that somehow by choosing my baby, you’d be choosing me, too? No. No, that can’t be it. You don’t feel that way about me. You’re married! Or…at least, you were, or well, still are…to my best—ex-best—friend. And, of course, the only way I could get a guy to notice me was to be laid out on my bathroom floor, willing to have a baby—”

“I’m going to stop you there,” Jungkook says, lightly pressing a finger against your lips. “I’m not saying that what you’re feeling isn’t valid, because you have every right to feel however you feel about things. But, I need to set some things straight, and maybe that will help. Okay?”

He’s talking to you slowly, clearly, and with so much openness in his eyes now that you just want to dive right into them and float away into their espresso-colored abyss.

“Okay.” You swallow hard against the choking feeling in your throat, knowing you need to hear him out before you spiral further.

Jungkook settles on his heels, absently letting his hands, now engulfing yours, gently press against the underside of your belly.

“You,” he pauses to take a deep breath. “You are the most selfless and beautiful person I’ve ever met. I am so sorry that I did not make that clear in the beginning. Even before all of this started, that’s what I thought, and how I felt, and everything in the last seven months has just made me see and feel that even more. I know things are confusing right now, and there is a lot we need to talk about, but I need to make it clear to you…make you understand that you are far more than just this precious baby to me.” Jungkook leans forward and presses a light kiss to your stomach, keeping his eyes on yours. “You mean more to me than that, I just…I was scared to admit that, and we both know things have been crazy lately. I’ll forever be sorry for not saying all that sooner.”

“But…what? I’m confused. Are you thinking straight right now? I mean, that baby…Jungkook, don’t worry about me. I can’t imagine what’s going through your head right now. You can talk to me. Or I can call Taehyung?”

Jungkook chuckles, the sound low and almost sad. “This is exactly what I mean. You’re trying to put me first, worrying about me. Maybe I should be broken up about all of this, but…if I’m being honest, I knew deep down that something was off. Jiyoon has been acting weird, and then Taehyung overheard her and Dani today in the breakroom at the office. It all but confirmed it. But then she had to go and be very…Jiyoon and come over here to point fingers and lay blame, all so she could justify her own guilt over what she’s been doing to me—to us.”

“Oh, Jungkook.” The memory of passing Taehyung on the elevator comes back to you, and the pieces start to fit together. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for. Please don’t feel bad for me. I don’t want to be a victim in this, I don’t want either of us to be. Things might not be perfect, but…I-I don’t regret any of this. I care about you, and if it wasn’t for all of this…” Jungkook trails off, but you think you know what he’s trying to say.

Regardless of how fucked up things are right now, if the world as you know it wasn’t shattered into a million pieces, you might not be able to see the possibilities laid out before you. The possibilities that are right in front of you.

You lean forward and hesitate, poised with your lips a breath's width from Jungkook’s. All you need is a moment to feel that it’s real, that not everything is broken beyond repair. Whether he closes the distance or you do, you’re not sure. But, the tender press of his lips against yours is all the confirmation you need.

In fairytales, a moment like this would be punctuated with fireworks or banding trumpets and beating drums. But, for you, it’s the rapid thumping of your heart and the frisson of butterflies that take flight low in your belly that let you know this is real; that this isn’t broken.

“No matter what happens, we’re in this together,” Jungkook breathes, his words caressing your lips before he moves his mouth against yours again. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, not unless you tell me to.”

“Are you sure you want me to be there?” you ask for maybe the third time since Jungkook helped you into his car.

His eyes flick from the road to yours before focusing back. “Yes. I want you there, more than anyone else. Today is a big day, what if I need an emotional support hug or something?”

He’s teasing you, you can tell. But it still makes you smile and swoon a little. It’s been a couple of weeks since what could easily be described as one of the darkest days of your life transpired. And things are finally starting to feel normal again; or as normal as it can be to have your supposed best friend nearly rip your world apart and come out on the other side with her husband by your side instead of hers.

Another few weeks have managed to fly by before you know it. And in that time, you’ve done a lot of soul-searching and talking—specifically, talking to Jungkook. There has been so much the two of you needed to talk about, both relating to Jiyoon and not. Because, somehow, despite—or maybe in spite of—all the things that have gone wrong, you and Jungkook have found yourselves drawn together closer than ever.

Things have been just a smidge more than casual between you and Jungkook. It’s like a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders and you are able to breathe deeply for the first time in a long time. Jungkook is with you and seems to be doing much better as well, the perpetual tension around him dissipating more with each passing day.

You feel like maybe you’re both toeing the same blurred line of figuring out exactly what you are to each other. The feelings are there, there’s no doubting that. It’s just working through it all to ensure you’re both making conscious decisions instead of rash ones that may be influenced by the emotion of it all.

“An emotional support hug or a freedom kiss?”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully, like he’s truly considering your question. You’ve only shared a few more kisses since the one that took place on your couch that night. But Jungkook is not afraid to shower you with affection in other ways, ways that you’re both comfortable with right now. Like how his fingers thread through your hair while you use his tummy as a pillow as you watch a movie on the couch. Or the way he helps you put on your shoes whenever you go out because he knows bending over too far can sometimes make you dizzy.

Sometimes you find yourself wanting to ask him for more, but unsure if he’ll be as open and receptive. You both agreed to not push anything and to allow it to all naturally occur, and develop on its own in a healthy way. You’re fairly certain that you both don’t want to accidentally ruin this before it has a chance to even begin.

“How much would it take for me to get both the hug and the kiss?”

It feels good to laugh, even as Jungkook pulls into the parking lot of his lawyer’s office and the mood grows more somber. There is a reason he’s here, and seemingly a reason you’re here, too.

“You can have both,” you concede with a soft smile. Because, deep down, you know he’ll probably need it; legal separation and then divorce is a nasty process, after all.

Hours and several signatures later, Jungkook looks lighter. There is a bit more bounce in his step as he takes your hand and walks you back outside. The sun is shining and you wouldn’t be surprised to see a rainbow pop up somewhere after the raincloud that just disappeared from over him.

“Well, I’m officially single now. Want to be my girlfriend?”

You can hear the teasing tone in his voice, which makes the surprised look on his face even better when you say, “Of course I would.” 

“Wait. Really? You’re being serious?”

“As long as you are.”

Jungkook laughs, the sound like music to your ears after so much turmoil has passed. “You know what? I think I am. I want this,” he says, giving your hand in his a light squeeze. “I’ve wanted you for a while now.”

That light fluttering feeling in your belly that you’ve come to associate with Jungkook swoops in and you swear you can hear those fairytale romance fireworks going off somewhere in the distance as you press up onto your toes and cover his lips with yours. 

“I’ve wanted you, too.”

Baby time is swiftly approaching, and with Namjoon’s blessing, you’re taking some time off of work. Or rather, time away from the office. You’ve been working at home, something that was agreed might be best until you come back from maternity leave.

On your last day in the office, it was mentioned by Hyeonwoo that he saw Jiyoon leaving Namjoon’s office, her eyes red and cheeks blotchy. Later, you were told in a private meeting that Jiyoon has been given the same extension of time out of the office, except instead of coming back after maternity leave, she is going to need to find a new place of employment. All things considered, Namjoon hated to have to let her go, but with everything that went down, he had no choice in the end.

You haven’t seen nor spoken with Jiyoon since that day in your apartment. Jungkook has, but only a few times, to take care of legal things. The divorce should be finalized in a few months after Jiyoon’s baby is born. Even though she claims the baby is not his, Jungkook told you that he knows it’s possible. If she could have gotten pregnant by Dohyun, then there might be even the smallest possibility that she could have gotten pregnant by Jungkook instead.

So, with that, he’s requested a paternity test after the baby is born and has also extended some grace to Jiyoon. He’s allowing her to live in the condo until she has the baby, time she’s using to find a new place. Because once her baby is born, the condo will be sold. Which is why you have a stack of emails with more real estate listings waiting for you to have a moment to look through them.

Jungkook presented you with the idea of moving in together about a week ago. He’s already been on a few tours—with you on video chat so you can see, too—and you both know exactly what you want in a home—the place where your son will grow up.

“Hey!” Jungkook calls from the living room. “I’m back.”

You close your laptop and set it off on the bedside table before easing forward on the pillows to sit up straighter. Laying back in bed with your feet propped up tends to help with the swelling, so you’ve been spending some time lounging in bed when you can.

“In here,” you say.

You hear Jungkook’s feet pattering down the hall for a second before his head pops through the doorway, followed by his large frame. “How’s your day been? Just been relaxing?” He comes to sit on the other side of the bed, the side he’s been sleeping on for the last two weeks.

“As much as I can relax,” you sigh, rubbing a hand over your belly. “He’s finally settled down.”

You’re not sure you’ll ever get over the way Jungkook’s face lights up when his eyes sweep over where his son is steadily growing in your body.

“I want to take you to dinner,” Jungkook announces, sliding closer to you.

One of your eyebrows quirks up because clearly he’s excited about something but is trying to keep it to himself by the vibrating energy you can feel emanating from him. “What’s the occasion?”

“Occasion? Do I need an occasion to want to take you out?” His tone speaks volumes.

You give him a playful poke in the ribs, which earns you a lopsided grin, his nose scrunching in that adorable way. “You can take me to dinner on one condition.”

“Anything! Name it.” Jungkook bounces up onto his knees, hands planted on the bed beside you.

With a finger under his chin, you turn his face toward the end of the bed, where your toes are wiggling in invitation. “Please, if you expect me to get out of this bed.”

“Oh-ho, you drive a hard bargain!” he teases. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”

Jungkook crawls down the bed and takes up a position so your feet rest on the tops of his thighs. The instant his thumbs roll across the ball of your left foot, you let out a low groan.

“That feels so good. Now, if only you could do the same to my lower back.” You let out another breathy sound, eyes fluttering shut as Jungkook slowly eases away the ache.

“Your lower back bothering you?”

You nod. “Just a bit.”

Jungkook hums softly, thoughtfully. “I think I have an idea, if you’re okay with trying.”

One of your eyes pops open, and you look at him curiously. “Does it involve getting on the floor with the yoga mat like last time? Because I don’t know if I want to roll around on the floor again.”

“No, no,” Jungkook chuckles. He switches to massaging your other foot. “It’ll be a massage, I swear.”

“No offense, Jungkook, but I’m not sure how you can massage my lower back without me laying flat on my stomach, and well—” you gesture down at your prominent baby bump “—not exactly comfortably possible.”

One of his fingers comes up in the air. “That’s where my idea comes into play. Come on, the worst that can happen is it doesn’t work. What do you say?”

“I say, what the hell, why not? But, if it doesn’t work, you owe me dinner and ice cream.”

“I think I can handle that.” Jungkook’s tone is light and teasing, it almost feels like this is what you’ve always done. Like this delicate, flirty exchange has been a part of your dynamic from the start. What has been mere weeks, feels like years…and you don’t mind that, not one bit.

It helps to thwart any awkward tension as Jungkook helps you up onto your knees with your back to him. His hands are gentle, yet firm, on your hips as he guides them back until you’re practically sitting on top of his thighs.

“If you wanted me to sit in your lap, you know you could just ask, right?” The sassy comment is out of your mouth before you can stop it, earning you a shocked laugh from Jungkook.

His hands give your hips a generous squeeze, thumbs dimpling the curvy skin right above your ass. “I’m trying to remain somewhat of a gentleman here.”

“You may continue,” you say, fully relaxing into his grip.

“Lean forward, just a little, hands on the bed. Keep your back as relaxed as you possibly can.”

To lean forward the way Jungkook wants you to, you have to spread your knees apart so your belly can fit into the space between them. The cotton babydoll dress you’re wearing is probably not the best for this, as the fabric pulls and slips dangerously high.

But the moment Jungkook’s thumbs slide up and begin to press into the sore muscles of your lower back, you’ll do just about anything, as long as he doesn't stop. The flats of his fingers cup your sides, toying along the line of your ribs as his thumbs continue to work up through your mid-back and then back down again.

You let your head hang forward between your shoulders. A low whine gets caught in your throat. “That…is easily the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

Jungkook snorts a laugh. “And you haven’t even experienced all that I have to offer yet.” It almost sounds conversational, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d mistake the underlying heat of his words for something else.

“No,” you agree. “I don’t suppose I have…yet.” 

His thumbs pause for a moment, and you can feel the warmth of his breath brush across your shoulders as he exhales heavily. “Ah-um, does that feel better?”

You can tell he’s pulling back, intentionally not taking the bait. But, it’s so hard to tell if it’s because he doesn’t want to or if he’s just trying to respect you and that seemingly invisible line that the both of you have been toeing recently.

“It does.” You push your hips back ever so slightly into his touch. “But, I think it could feel better.”

“Yeah? How so?” Jungkook asks, voice low and full of barely restrained heat.

“You can stop trying to be a gentleman and show me how you really feel about me,” you suggest, peeking at him over your shoulder.

Jungkook looks like a man starved. His eyes are downcast, intent on the way his thumbs are now tracing lazy patterns across the top of your ass and over the curves of your hips. Slowly, his eyes slide up to yours, and the look there makes your heart launch into a frenzy of staccato beats.

One of his hands glides up your spine and comes around to cup your chin, turning your face even further to the side so that when he presses his body against yours, your lips are right there for his.

The kiss starts gently, like all the previous ones you’ve shared. But, soon, that isn’t enough, and you find yourself urging him for more. His tongue slides against yours as you part your lips, welcoming the wet heat of him inside your mouth.

His hands, once so restrained on your hips and lower back, map over every inch of your body that they can reach. Jungkook traces the lines of your shoulders, fingers feather-light as they pinch and pluck over the mounds of your breasts. Your dress rises and bunches as he contours his palms across your thighs and along your sides.

By the time you come up for air, your lips are tingling, and your entire body is alight. “There are many ways I feel about you,” he whispers, lips grazing along your cheek until he’s speaking into your ear. “You make me want to break the world and, in the same breath, remake it in ways inspired by the light you have given me because everyone should experience this—this beauty that you have brought to my life.”

“Words are wonderful,” you tell him, breathless and bold. “But I said show me.”

Jungkook hesitates only a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for…something. You look at him with everything that you can, hoping he can see the joys and affirmations you have for him.

“Only if you’re certain.” The words drip honey, sweet, and tantalizing. All you have to do is say yes, and you know he’ll hold nothing back.

Gripping the bottom of your dress, you bring it up and over your head before tossing it to the side. “I’m certain.”

Your nipples draw tight, just like the coil in your belly, as you wait with bated breath for Jungkook to react. He doesn’t leave you waiting long, his hands coming around to cup you, toying with the tips of your breasts. Your entire body shudders as he rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

“You are so beautiful,” Jungkook praises in a robust, husky tone. “I wonder if you taste as good as you look.”

Your body bends to his will, pliant as he supplicates you before him with your ass in the air. Jungkook slowly peels your panties down, and strings of your wetness cling to the fabric until it pops and leaves streaks of arousal webbing across your thighs. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on just from kissing and being touched by someone.

However, the way Jungkook tenderly soothes his hands over your body is different from anything you’ve ever experienced. There is a heightened sense of connection and awareness. He ensures you know exactly where he is and how hungry and eager he is to know your body.

“Jungkook,” you draw his name out, the syllables lingering on your lips as Jungkook moves his grip to your ass and squeezes. The pressure pulls at your body, opening you to him.

An appreciative hum sounds from behind you. “I want to make you feel good, but you’re in control, okay?”

You nod against the cool, soft surface of the duvet. “Okay,” you say, knowing Jungkook prefers when you vocalize your understanding when he talks to you, and you hope that carries over even into such an intimate setting.

It seems it does when he groans and whispers, “Good girl.” You only have a moment to smile to yourself at eliciting such a response before all thoughts completely empty from your head when Jungkook licks a thick stripe through your pussy.

“Jungkook!” His name is a moaned prayer, and you’re simply a mortal on her knees, ready to pay any tithe he demands as long as he doesn’t stop.

You’re rewarded with another lick. His nose presses against your body as his lips pluck in tandem with his tongue against your clit, drawing obscene noises from deep in your body.

Everything tingles, and you feel like you’re teetering on the edge almost instantly. Your body is primed and aching for more, having been starved of such pleasure for so long.

“Shh,” he soothes when you whimper at the loss of his mouth against you. “I want this to last.”

“No,” you moan. “Please. Please, fuck me. Please, Jungkook! I want to feel you, I don’t want to wait.”

Tears prick at your lashline, and you think you really might cry if he doesn’t put you out of your misery soon. “Then I won’t make you wait. I’m yours, I’m here, I promise.”

You listen to the sound of Jungkook’s belt clinking and the distinct brush of fabric as he pulls off his shirt and works his pants off. Curling to the side, you press your cheek into the mattress and let your eyes drink in his form in all its glory.

Jungkook’s tattoos are something you’ve seen many times; it’s not like he’s never been shirtless for a photo shoot or during wardrobe changes. But seeing them displayed like this? It’s wholly different. He looks like a god, chiseled from marble and lust.

The breath in your chest catches when your eyes slide down. His cock is hard and leaking, bobbing in the air so close to your body. All it would take is for you to rock back on your hips, and you’re certain you could take him into your depths.

As if sensing your intention, Jungkook palms the generous curves of your ass and keeps you firmly in place. “We are going to take this slow. I want to feel every inch of you taking me in. I want to feel the way your body squeezes and flutters as you adjust. And then I’m going to fuck you nice and slow, the way you deserve to be.”

“What I deserve is for you to shut up and fu—uhhh,” your curse turns into a throaty moan when he gives you exactly what you asked for.

The swell of him is decadent, the stretch enough for you to feel it but remaining on just the cusp of pain. It’s the perfect mix of pleasure, making you needy for more.

Jungkook’s whole body shudders against yours. He wraps his arms around you, one across your chest and the other clasped in the dip of your thigh, where his long fingers return to toying over your clit. Your back presses to his chest, leveraging your body in a way that seats you further onto his thick cock.

“Perfect,” he growls in your ear. “You’re fucking perfect. Goddamn, I could cum just feeling you around me.”

You move with him, letting your body rise and fall in sync with his shallow thrusts. It puts pressure in all the right places, and with his fingers still strumming over your clit, your body responds in kind.

“You’re going to make me—” Jungkook swallows your words, devouring you with tongue and teeth as your body succumbs to the pleasure coursing through it.

His grip on you tightens, and you can feel the moment he follows you into the embrace of ecstasy. Jungkook’s moan vibrates through your whole body, his tongue lazily dancing over yours as you both try to regain your bearings.

Somewhere between the foot massage and the orgasm, something clicked. No matter how messy life might be, nothing can take away this feeling of rightness—this feeling that the future is full of healing. For both you and Jungkook. Because perhaps once someone is shattered, the pieces might not quite fit back together as they once were, but they can still be made into something beautiful.

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #dilf jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts imagines #bangtanwhq #btsfests

[hypewinter]

Jason had been sitting in his living room, maintenancing his weapons when a circle appeared before him. It was big and swirling. It's hue very much akin to the sickening green of the Lazarus pits. He quickly realized the circle was in fact a portal as a teen stepped out of it. The teen wore surgical gloves and a mask over what appeared to be a hazmat suit. His hair was silver and seemed unaffected by gravity. Worse of all though, were his eyes that were that same damn color that Jason had long since grown to hate.

Jason grabbed two guns that were not currently taken apart and aimed them at the boy, taking a menacing step forward as he did so. "Who are you?" he growled. "What do you want?"

To his surprise, the boy didn't threaten him or gloat about some massive plan already under way. He didn't even offer some sort of vague, cryptic advice. Instead, the teen actually took a step back, covering his nose with one arm while putting the other up in surrender.

"Don't come any close!" he yelped. "The stench is already bad enough from here."

Jason blinked. What? "Excuse me?" was all he could utter.

The boy turned away slightly and dry heaved. "Ugh, so nasty."

Jason was having trouble figuring out what was going on. Even with his detective training. "Did you- did you just call me nasty?" he finally managed to splutter out.

The boy turned back to him, his eyes crinkling in utter disgust. "Uh, yeah. What else would you call a flea infested rat?"

"Flea infested-" Jason squawked.

"Listen could you just come with me so that we can get all of that taken care of asap," the boy said, gesturing towards Jason.

Regaining his composure a little, Jason tightened his grip on his weapons. "Hell no! I'm not going anywhere with you until you start explaining."

Despite having two guns pointed at his head, the teen only let out a deep sigh.

"Fine, have it your way." He replied, stepping towards Jason. The vigilante heard the kid mumbling, "You can do this. Think of it as handling a stinky baby. A very disease infested stinky baby," as he got closer and closer.

Jason fired off a warning shot next to the kid but the boy didn't even flinch. Fine, Jason thought. We can do this the hard way. He aimed at the boy's knee cap and fired. Only for the bullet to pass right through him. The boy neared him before picking him up like an unruly kitten. Jason went limp as he officially stopped processing what was happening. How the hell had this kid managed to lift him so effortlessly?

He didn't put up a fight as the boy turned around and led them both back through the portal, his arms outstretched as far away from his torso as possible. Jason's mind had just barely started to process information again when this weird furry, horned creature appeared in front of him.

"Ah Great One! You've returned," it said.

"Yeah yeah just hurry up and take this from me before I throw up!" the teen replied, setting Jason down and distancing himself.

The creature fixed the boy with a stern look. "That is not how we treat patients, Great One. Need I remind you? It was you who wanted to be my apprentice and all that entails. That includes treating our patients with the utmost professionalism. Regardless of your personal feelings."

The teen actually had the nerve to look sheepish, maybe even a little guilty. As if he hadn't just spent the last 5 minutes mercilessly insulting Jason.

The two continued talking for a time and Jason was more than happy to let them. It gave him time to process what the hell he was looking at and with any luck, they would let slip some crucial information. Instead however, they ended up discussing more about whatever this apprenticeship was before the weird looking creature turned back towards Jason.

"Apologies for the rudeness my apprentice has shown you," he said.

Jason muttered out an 'uh huh' in response.

The creature clapped his hands. "Now then, shall we get you examined?"

Examined? Jason staring blankly at the creature. Then he stared at the teen, hoping to gleam any info from their facial expressions. Nothing. And of course he did have his comms or his sos signal on him. Great, just great. What an absolutely craptastic situation he found himself in. He'd be sure to come back and haunt Bruce this time. Maybe even Dick. He swore that much.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales

[generalsmemories]

Unwanted reunion

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts: “catching the other one crying shortly after an argument and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you.” + "it's okay, we can fix this..." + “playing with their hair until they fall asleep”|| 1k event

✧ contents: hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, implied character death

✧ a/n: if u wonder how in the world i came up with the scenario below. i genuinely don't know either it's a mystery to even me. CREATIVE LIBERTY WINS AGAIN THE PROMPTS WERE LITERALLY INSPO AND NOT WRITTEN DIRECTLY INTO THE SCENARIO. also implied that this took place after the battle with phantylia so keep that in mind.

NOT BETA-READ AS USUAL FELLAS I WANTED TO HAND THIS OVER TO YA'LL ASAP AS AN APOLOGY FOR STARVING YOU ALL FOR SO LONG!! it's mild angst though, so sorry.

Jing Yuan's can feel a familiar heaviness weigh on his body as well as the feeling of someone wrapping a roll of gauze on his arm. However opening his eyes proved to be a challenge in itself and it's only with great struggle that he can manage to force them slightly open to the bright light.

The first thing he notices is the familiar ceiling of your shared home. A bit weird since whenever he did get injured he would immediately be rushed towards a private room by the Seat of Divine Foresight - which was the safest place for him to stay. Perhaps you had gotten your will again to take care of him - seeing as you're a high ranking healer yourself and quite a stubborn soul.

But his eyes still widen a tiny bit when he sees you sitting by the edge of the bed, one hand gripping his gauzed wound while your other hand is busy trying to find something to keep your hard work in place. You're humming a soft tune again, he never knows what sort of melody you're humming, only that it had become a habit for you after the amount of years you had spent by his side bandaging his battle wounds. Something about helping your mood and staying positive.

"Your recklessness knows no bounds, Jing Yuan." the sternness of your voice snaps him out of the daze he's in, immediately rising up from the bed only to groan in pain when the wounds that you had just wrapped up react to his body folding, "... And still don't know when to rest - even when I'm in the middle of treating you."

"...How much time has passed?" he asks, voice hoarse after having slept for who knows how long. You only hum, setting the bandages aside - the gesture causing Jing Yuan to follow your hand movements which makes him notice the bloodied bandages inside the trash by your legs.

"A couple of days, I was just finishing changing your bandages when you finally woke up. Here, some water." you inform, raising a glass towards his lips, patiently waiting for him to move closer.

You only start to speak again after he's taken several gulps, placing the cup of water back on the nightstand beside his bed. "Why are you so willing to throw your life away?" you ask after a moment of silence, helping Jing Yuan rest against the headboard, eyes never leaving his own that don't dare to even look into your own.

"It's my duty-"

"Your duty is to make sure as many of the Cloud Knights survive a battle. Not gamble your life on a piece that you weren't sure had the capabilities to help."

Jing Yuan bites his tongue at your immediate rebuttal, you were right after all. "The Master Diviner was right there by you. A troop was enough to guard the entrance, you didn't need to leave the master diviner with them to go on this-"

"... Can't you be happy for once whenever we meet like this?" he asks quietly, effectively stopped you from saying anything more. His gaze is cast downwards whenever he mutters the same question to you whilst shrinking a bit after asking. There's no sign of the proud general in your presence - in front of you is just Jing Yuan asking a supposedly harmless question.

Perhaps that's the reason why you can never shove him away immediately.

"... You know what my answer is."

Jing Yuan was no crier. In fact, you think he stopped crying or showing any visible sign of discomfort or uneasiness the day he got the title as General. You're pretty sure you can count the amount of times you've seen Jing Yuan cry on one hand.

Perhaps his ability to hide his own needs and wants so often day by day for the past centuries makes your dismissal of his simple wishes that more gut-wrenching for you. You try to ignore the overwhelming guilt that washes over you every time you have to say the same thing to him.

"... You have a lot of things that you want to get done on the Luofu, Jing Yuan." you murmur softly, extending a hand to run your fingers through his locks, breaking apart any knots that may have formed in his sleep.

"You know we can meet again, but now is not the time - especially now," you gently remind with a sombre smile, your hand moving from his hair to rest against his chin to make him face you.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" he scoffs at your reassurance, finally coming to terms with your conditions once again like always, wrapping his arms around your waist to fall down back on the bed with you on top.

"Remember the last time you said those words to me?" he says, almost sounding offended at your choice of words to which you only smile against his skin in guilt.

"It was the first time I saw you cry so hard," you try to joke, pressing your hands against the mattress to push yourself off of Jing Yuan, choosing to hover above him instead.

"... I'm sorry," you decide to say in the end after a moment of silence, once again threading your fingers through his hair - an act you knew used to calm him before. At this moment though, you're not so sure.

"Why? Shouldn't I be sorry?" he asks in return, a small yawn leaving his lips as his eyes struggle to stay open. You smile bitterly as you shake your head, still threading your fingers through his hair.

"No, none of it was your fault - what happened back then was out of your control. But this time it isn't. I can wait for a long time, Jing Yuan. I know you're aware of that so don't try to rush anything to meet me again." you tell him, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead.

"So it's time to wake up, dear. Luofu is waiting for you."

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #star rail imagines #jing yuan x reader

[woso-dreamzzz]

Blood Sugar

England Lionesses x Teen!Reader

Summary: You have a hypo during a match

Your sugar levels were fine at the start of the match.

You'd checked them before you went out. They were fine and it's not like your diabetes were a new thing. You knew how to control them.

"Looking good?" Alessia asks as you press your monitor against the patch attached to your arm.

It takes a few seconds for it to flash up but you nod.

"Good."

She grins, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Excellent. Can't have one of our midfielders out of it. Who else will feed me balls?"

You roll your eyes. "Don't act like I'm the only one doing my job."

Lessi pinches your cheek. "But you're my favourite! Look at you! All cute and tiny!"

"Leave me alone!"

You try to shove her away but she just holds onto you firmer.

You'd known Alessia for years. You used to live next door to each other before she went to college in America and she'd been obsessed with you ever since you got placed into her arms as a baby.

She'd been overjoyed to see you on the team sheet for the Euro's and then now for the Finalissima. It helped, of course, that you and Alessia had racked up the most assist to goal pairings on the entire team.

"Leave her alone, Less," Leah says with an eye roll," We need her in tip-top shape, not looking like a tomato."

Alessia huffs as you put away your glucose monitor and dart around her, taking refuge with Keira and Lucy. You stick your tongue out at her as you pass.

You feel good during the first half, feeding the ball to Tooney, who scores. You feel good during halftime too, though you forget to check your glucose monitor.

You'd had it in your hand ready and waiting but Mary had caught you in conversation for the entirety of the break and it had completely slipped your mind.

Things took a turn for the worst about halfway through the second half. Your arms suddenly felt too heavy for your body and your mouth had gotten very dry, very quickly.

You sway on your feet and just manage to get the ball out from under your feet and to Keira to run up to Brazil's half. You stumble a little bit.

You're sweating now too, badly. You're sweating too much even for someone who has been on the pitch for nearly ninety minutes. You can feel your legs shaking too and you have to back up to keep your footing.

"Hey, what's going on? Is something wrong?"

The thick scouse accent from behind you means you've bumped into Alex and you practically go limp against her. She notices that too and immediately makes sure you stay upright.

Your head flops back like your neck can no longer support it. It's probably for the best because your vision has gone blurry and your head is swimming.

It takes all your concentration to move your lips in some semblance of words even though it comes out all garbled and slurred.

"'m goin' to pass out soon," You manage to say," Low sugar, I thin'." You draw in a ragged breath. "Meds have got...got..."

"Hey!" Alex shakes you. "The medics have got a...?"

"Gotta gluca...a gluca-"

You don't get to finish your sentence because you got fully limp now. Alex lays you on the ground, gesturing wildly to the medics and to the ref and to everyone who will see.

Leah's the first person to come skidding in, her hand immediately going to your pulse.

"What happened?!"

"I dont know!" Alex replies," She suddenly went all funny. She's sweating buckets! Er..." She shakes her head as she tries to clear her thoughts. "She said something about the medics having a...a gluca-something? I don't know. She passed out before she could finish."

"A glucagon injection," Alessia says as she comes running in as well," Fuck, her sugar levels must have tanked."

"She's right," The first medic says, shoving a glucose monitor onto your sensor," These are low. It's a wonder she didn't pass out earlier."

No one's really listening to him, least of all Alessia, who's rummaging through the first aid kit in search of something. Another medic is waving for a stretcher and a third one is pulling up the bottom of your shorts and cleaning off the top of your thigh with a cotton swab doused in alcohol.

"And she didn't hit her head?" The fourth medic is asking Alex, who shakes her head.

"No. She stumbled a bit but I caught her. She didn't hit anything. Just passed straight out in my arms."

Leah doesn't really know what else to do but stare. The whole team has joined them, forming a huddle around your unconscious body to block the cameras from seeing.

It's a pretty severe thing happening because the officials have even let Sarina on the pitch and she has joined the huddle with the rest of the staff to keep your privacy.

When Leah manages to tear her gaze from you, it lands on Alessia. She's at your other side, ripping open a small plastic box in a hurry. She uncaps a small glass bottle of powder and stabs a syringe into it, pushing all of the liquid into it.

She shakes the bottle a few times before turning it upside down and drawing it all back into the syringe.

"You need to roll her over once it's in," She says and Leah and a few of the medics immediately grab parts of you to pull on.

"Alessia," The first medic says," Do you need me to do this?"

"I've done it before!" Alessia snaps," As soon as I take the needle out, roll her in case she throws up. Okay? One. Two. Three!"

The needle finds a home in the top of your thigh, the area that had been disinfected. Alessia jabs the needle in and pushes down. As soon as she takes it out, Leah tugs on your shoulder to get you on your side.

"I need to come off," Alessia says to Sarina as you're carefully loaded onto a stretcher," I have to be with her. She'll be disorientated when she wakes up."

"Go," Sarina says," Be with her."

The match ends in a penalty shootout but everyone seems to be in the same mind because the medal ceremony is delayed until after you've been checked.

You're looking a lot better when Leah and the others burst into the physio's room. You're sitting upright with Alessia by your side, forcing a sugary drink down your throat.

It's clear that this has been going on for a while because there's another empty can of your favourite nearby and a packet of haribos in your hand.

"You scared us," Leah says.

"Did we win?"

"No talking!" Alessia snaps," Drink! All of it!"

You flash an amused smile at Leah but do as you're told.

"We won," Mary confirms," Penalty shootout but we did it. Could have done without the scare though."

"Sorry," You say with a wince," If it helps, I didn't plan it."

"Thank god for that," Alex mutters," Because that wasn't fun, kid. I thought you were dying."

"Just a bad hypo," You say and Lessi swats you.

"Stop making fun of dangerous situations," She scolds," I don't like having to give you injections so often."

You roll your eyes. "You've done it twice in my entire life!"

"Three times now! You're going to give me a heart attack one day."

"Well, can you have that heart attack later? We've got medals to collect."

#woso x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt #england lionesses x reader #england lionesses #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[castiwls]

Hii

I was wondering if you could so something with a dean x reader where one of them gets attacked by a djinn and their fantasy involves the other person?

djinn - d.w

pairing; Dean x fem!reader

synopsis; A Djinn's coma causes Dean to come to a realisation

warnings; none

notes; Idk how i feel about the ending of this one

masterlist

Dean groaned as he squinted at the light snaking through the gap in the curtains. Throwing an arm over his eyes he turned pulling the covers up with him. How much did he drink last night? He hadn’t had a hangover this bad in years.

Deciding sleep was the best idea he pulled the cover higher and closed his eyes. The room was quiet for a few minutes as he lay still, his head still throbbing. 

“Dean. Come on you need to get up. You're going to be late.” Someone reached over and pulled the cover down despite his protests. A hand shook his shoulder briefly before he felt a dip in the bed. The hand which had previously been in his hair moved upwards and began carding through his hair slowly. “Dean, come on.” 

Dean frowned slightly. He knew that voice. “Y/n?” He opened his eyes slightly and stared at the person beside him in slight shock. You smiled at him, your hand continuing its movements. “You need to stop drinking at night.” Your voice was still quiet but there was a hard edge to it. “You promised you’d stop.” 

What was going on? This wasn’t normal…at all. Sure you’d been on his case about his drinking habits for ages but you’d never been this nice about it. Normally you’d just make some snarky comment about how he was drinking himself to an early grave before pushing him to bed.

He rubbed at his eyes sitting up slowly. He slowly took in his surroundings as his body seemed to finally wake up. This wasn't the motel. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing on you. You looked…different.

You looked happier. The stress lines which seemed to be prematurely forming were gone and those dark bags which seemed a constant under your eyes were gone. Satisfied that he was up you stood from the bed. “You have an hour till you need to go.” 

Dean frowned clearing his throat. The headache seemed to be subsiding. “Go where?” At his words, your frown deepened. A look of concern crossed your face. “The garage. You said you would cover a shift for Bobby remember?”

Dean quickly nodded. “Yeah, yeah sorry just not with it this morning.” You shook your head before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking out of the room. 

Dean felt his cheeks heat up at the affection. While he couldn’t lie that he enjoyed it, the action also caused warning alarms in his head.

You and Dean weren’t a thing. You’d always just been his best friend nothing more. He slowly stood and walked over to the drawers pushed up against the wall and pulled a few open till eventually he found his own stuff. He’d never seen this house before in his life yet as he looked around the room it seemed that he had lived here for a while. The bedroom alone had pictures dotted around, things he had no memory of.

The last thing he remembered before waking up here was being in a barn on a hunt with Sam and the real you. He rubbed his neck as he racked his brain. What had you all been hunting?

Suddenly it hit him. A Djinn. “Fuck. Fuck.” He kicked the leg of the bed in frustration. That son of a bitch had managed to get the jump on him. He needed to get out of this dreamland fast. 

After calming himself down and getting dressed Dean made his way through the house. As he’d gotten dressed he’d been thinking of a plan. He had to wake up his actual body somehow and then get out of the barn. So far though he had no idea how to do that.

His only hope was that you and Sam would realise that he’d been grabbed and go after him. 

After a few moments, he found himself standing in the doorway to a small kitchen. At the sound of his steps (fake), you turned to face him. “There’s coffee in the pot.” You gestured to the counter beside you before you went back to cooking. 

Was this really his fantasy? Yeah sure, maybe his feelings for you weren’t exactly platonic but he didn’t realise they went this far. While he knew he had to wake up part of him didn’t want to. For the first time in years, you looked calm. You seemed the happiest he’d seen as you moved around the kitchen, humming softly.

“So, um.” He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter. “Any plans for today?” He cursed himself internally at how awkward he was being but he had to at least act like he had an idea of what was going on.

You pursed your lips for a moment before coming over to him. You stopped in front of him before speaking. “Not much. Probably just more wedding planning I guess.” You shrugged not noticing his expression. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask if you were happy with the quote for the venue. They need a response by tomorrow.” You stepped back before reaching for two plates from behind him.

Dean stood still as he digested what you had just dropped on him. You were getting married. To him. 

“Uh yea. Yeah, it was nice.” He nodded. You smiled as you turned with two plates. “Great I’ll call them later.” 

Dean followed behind you as you walked over to a small table. He was getting married.

What else was different in this ‘fantasy’

You frowned stepping over a pile of you didn’t even know what. “He has to be here somewhere.” You whispered as Sam shone the flashlight around the old barn.

“Over there” Sam shined the light to a corner of the barn. You could just make out the shape of a person strung up. You and Sam had managed to get rid of the Djinn relatively easily, the hard part was finding his hideout. The creature hadn’t exactly been willing to talk.

You’d only managed to figure it out due to Dean mentioning to you before he left that he was going to a barn a few miles from the motel.

You both rushed over and began to untie him. “Dean! Hey Dean.” Sam shook his brother harshly for a moment. Dean let out a quiet groan before his eyes slowly opened. “Wha-where.” He stumbled over his words for a moment before rubbing at his eyes.

Y/n crouched down beside Sam and reached out to place a hand on Dean’s arm. “Are you ok?” 

Dean nodded. He slowly pulled himself to his feet stumbling slightly. You quickly reached out to steady him. Dean’s eyes flew down to where your hand rested on his arm.

His heart picked up slightly at the touch before he cleared his throat and looked back up to where you were looking back with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat trying to push the woozy feeling in his stomach away.

As the three of you walked back to the car he found his gaze falling on your left hand. Dean had never been one for marriage or even crushes for that matter but for the first time in his life, he felt himself longing for something which seemed so far out of reach.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #spn reader insert #spn fanfic #spn imagine #dean winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #.mine #.spn #.deanwinchester #.req

[abswife]

stranger

you find yourself alone at a party and want nothing more than some peace and quiet. but the cute girl with the braid seems to have other ideas.

cw// smut with little plot, top! abby, bottom! reader, drinking, nicotine, fingering, cunnilingus, reader's appearance is not mentioned other than being afab and having hair, abby is a sweet respectful baby

this is my first fic for abby so sorry if it kinda sucks :/

word count: 3k+

__

The accelerated bass made the whole house shake, though you’d never be able to tell with the sea of bodies that flooded every room. People jumped up and down, spinning and shimmying to the rhythm of some generic trap song. You could hardly make out the shape of the living room you were in, what with all the gyrating college students and flashing lights. You’d lost track of your friends long ago. They were likely in the midst of the chaos, dancing to their heart's content, or had already left with someone to spend the rest of the night with. Not that it mattered, this isn’t your first party. Having gotten through almost three full years of school allowed for plenty of time to get used to the ragers your school’s frats would throw. 

Someone suddenly knocked their elbow into your arm, making the liquid in your plastic cup slosh onto the floor and on your shirt. 

“Fuck.” You muttered, not bothering to say anything to the culprit considering you weren’t even sure who had done it. 

Having had enough of being jostled by the people nearest you, you made your way through the crowd toward the back door. You successfully managed to reach it, and downed what was left of your drink as you swung the door open. The cool air rushed over your face, and immediately you felt much less overwhelmed. You stepped out on the small patio, closing the door behind you. There were a few other people out here, mostly couples that wanted somewhere calmer to talk or makeout. Though, it was kind of hard to see with the only light coming from the small porchlight and the colorful flashes through the windows. Setting your now empty cup on a small table near the door, you walked down a few steps before plopping down onto the edge of the wood. You pulled your vape out of your pocket, taking a big hit. You weren’t a big smoker, but alcohol always seemed to worsen the habit. The air was colder than you initially thought, and you tugged your denim jacket closer to you. 

“It’s pretty cold out here, huh?” A voice behind you spoke up. You turned, and your eyes fell upon a tall, blonde woman. Her hazel eyes were slightly watery, likely from the wind that blew toward her face. She had on a bulky jacket, but you could tell she had a muscular frame under it nonetheless.

You blinked, unsure what to say. “Yeah, but it is February,” You said, cringing slightly at yourself. You turned back around, hoping that would be the end of that awkward interaction. However, she sat down on the step next to you, resting her elbows on her knees. The stairs weren’t very big, and no one else would be able to get through with both of you sitting there, but you didn’t really care. You looked over at her, raising your eyebrows. She gave you a soft smile, then her gaze drifted down to your vape.

“Can I get a hit?” She asked, gesturing toward it. You thought for a moment, then shrugged and handed it to her. She raised it up in a way that said ‘cheers’ and then took a hit from it, handing it back right after. You watched her as you grabbed it back from her grasp. She looked out into the yard as she held the vapor in her lungs for a few moments before blowing it out through her nose, the smoke curling through the air around her face. She glanced back over at you, and you blushed and looked down, realizing you were caught staring at her. When you met her eyes again she had a small smirk painting her face. Immediately, you copied her actions before, facing the grass and taking a hit. As you exhaled, you slipped it back into your breast pocket. 

“What’s your name?” The woman asked, causing you to face her again. You told her your name, then asked the same question. “I’m Abby.” She said, flashing her pearly teeth. You just noticed that she had freckles sprinkled over her nose. 

“Are you a freshman? How come I’ve never seen you before?” You asked, even though you could tell you guys were the same age. She chuckled and shook her head, rubbing her hands together. 

“No, no. I’m a junior. I just don’t tend to come to stuff like this. I’m pre-med so I don’t usually have the time.” She explained, brushing away stray hairs that had fallen from her braid. You hummed in acknowledgement. You didn’t know many other pre-med majors, so it took you by surprise to meet one at a party. Though, it made sense, that seemed like the sort of study that wouldn’t have much free time. 

“So, do you approach strangers like this in the cafeteria or…?” You questioned, slightly teasing her. Her eyes widened and for a moment you worried you’d offended her, but then she laughed. Her head hung down, forehead almost hitting her thumbs where they clasped atop her knees. When she looked back up at you, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Just the pretty ones.” She said, and the ease with which the flirtatious words came from her lips embarrassed you. You bit your lip and looked away, the heat from your cheeks letting you know you were sporting a light blush. You hadn’t expected this very attractive stranger to hit on you, but you certainly weren’t complaining. Another chuckle sounded through the air, and you knew she was amused at your reaction.

You weighed your options. 1. You could feign disgust, and get up. This is the easiest route, considering it meant you could leave this party and go back to your apartment, spending the rest of your night in peace. 2. You could lightly turn her down, and then disappear back into the crowd of people, drinking to your heart's desire. 3. You could flirt back. Who knew what would happen if you did that? Number three was tempting, though you were afraid of making a fool of yourself.

 ‘Fuck it’, you thought. You turned back to her and smiled lightly.

–

Her keys jingled in her unsteady grip as she desperately tried to put the right one in the lock. Admittedly, you weren’t of much help, considering you wouldn’t stop kissing her for even a second. Even when she wrenched her lips away to actually look at what she was doing, you moved your kisses down her jaw and across her throat. She swore, then finally managed to unlock the door, swinging it open and pushing you inside. You giggled at her urgency, and gripped her jacket to pull her in with you. She kicked the door shut behind her as she reattached herself to your lips. You shoved each other’s jackets off, and she led you to her bedroom. Your back briefly met the door before she opened it and continued to walk you backwards towards her bed. 

The back of your knees hit the mattress making you fall backwards onto your butt. She rucked her shirt up and off, throwing it into the corner. You took the chance to admire her. You had been right about her being muscular. She had soft abs and big arms, and her sports bra covered her broad chest. You bit your lip and reached up to the nape of her neck, pulling her back down toward you. She willingly let you, and put one of her knees on the bed beside your thigh. She practically lifted you to move you further back on the bed, then properly straddled your hips. You slipped your hand into her hair as best as you could with it still neatly braided, and scratched her scalp as you kissed her. She groaned at the feeling and gripped your waist, thumbs slipping under your shirt. Your other hand found its way to her waist, and you ran your fingers over the muscles of her stomach. She pulled back to slip your shirt up slightly, before looking in your eyes.

“Is this okay?” She asked, hands shaking with anticipation where they held the hem. You couldn’t help but smile at her. Instead of replying, you helped her take the clothing item the rest of the way off, and then reached behind your back to undo your bra. She gulped as you pulled the straps down your arms, letting your tits out for her to see. The cold air in her room made your nipples instantly harden, and you grabbed the back of her neck again, attempting to drag her back down to kiss you. She resisted a moment, still wanting to look at your breasts, but gave in and leaned back down to your lips. You arched your back, pushing your chest into hers, and the feeling made you shiver. You panted as she began to kiss your neck, a hand gliding up from your waist to cradle the underside of your breast. Her thumb brushed across the soft skin, not yet touching where you wanted her to. A whine bubbled up in your throat when she sucked at a spot in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

As she finally began to palm your full breast, you pulled the hair tie from the end of her braid, sliding your fingers through her locks to undo it. Her lips continued to trail down, kissing the skin of your left tit before taking your nipple into her mouth. You sighed and gripped her hair, making her groan again. You took note of how she seemed to like having her hair played with and pulled. She grazed her teeth over your nipple and you swore under your breath. Her responding chuckle sent heat directly to your core, and you suddenly remembered that you both still had pants on. 

“Pants. Off.” You managed to get through heavy breaths. Her lips detached from your breast with a ‘pop’ as she looked up at you with an amused smile. You could see the internal conflict over whether to make a joke about your condition, however she must have decided against it as she sat back on her knees to unbutton your jeans. You lifted your hips to help her shimmy them down your legs, and she tossed them over her shoulder. Her hands met your hips and her fingers ran over the top of your underwear. The pads of her middle and pointer finger lightly pressed over your clit through the fabric, further dampening the material. 

You grabbed a pillow and slid it under your head, gripping the sides of it. Abby continued to barely apply pressure over your underwear as she admired you under her. Her obvious staring embarrassed you slightly, and you raised an arm to cover your eyes. You hear her huff a breath through her nose, and then some shuffling. Becoming curious, you removed your arm from your eyes. She had taken off her bra, her small tits now free, and had started moving down to lay on her stomach. Her hands drifted to the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart lightly. You made eye contact as she kissed from the inside of your left knee down to the junction between your thigh and groin. 

You bit your lip, desperate for her to continue her path. However, she quickly changed direction, lips trailing their way back up. Then she switched to the other side, giving the same treatment. You bucked your hips up, seeking friction. The corner of her lips turned up, clearly entertained by your neediness. She reached a hand up to rub at your clit through the material again, a little firmer this time, while she sucked marks onto your skin. You felt your breathing pick up again, and you grasped at the sheets. The attention she was giving you was nice, but not enough. 

You huffed out, “God- Abby, please.” You were too shy to fully articulate what you wanted and hoped she would just know. 

She lifted her mouth from where she had been sucking at your inner thigh, and gave it an extra lick before asking, “What?”

You knew she was just teasing you, wanting you to actually tell her what you wanted her to do. However, you were nothing if not stubborn. “T-touch me, please.” You breathed out.

She hummed, changing the movement of her thumb to run over your whole slit, occasionally catching your clit. “But, I am touching you.” She said, and pushed your right leg further out, emphasizing her point. You groaned in frustration and clenched your eyes shut, trying to work up the courage to actually do what she wanted.

You opened your eyes and looked back down where she was waiting patiently with a smile that made you want to punch her and kiss her at the same time. “Take them off and touch me.” You pleaded, cheeks burning. Abby hummed again, as though considering what you said. Apparently that had been satisfactory since she hunched over slightly to hook her fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them off and flinging them across the room. 

It was her turn to bite her lip as she gazed at your unclothed pussy, wetness spread all over your labia. She spread your legs back out, making ample room for her broad shoulders. She settled back on her stomach, but leaned over to one side in order to reach her hand up. She used two fingers to spread your lips open, putting your full core on display for her. You whined out and palmed your breasts, needing some kind of stimulation. You could feel yourself becoming wetter by the second, the seemingly eternal teasing leaving you desperate and on edge. The pads of her fingers found your clit and she made slow, broad circles over it. Unable to handle the overwhelming sensation, you threw your head back and sighed. It took all over your concentration not to cant your hips up. 

You almost cried when you felt her fingers leave your clit until you realized she was prodding at your entrance. You look down, and her eyes are fixed on your pussy. She slowly pushed a finger in, and the intrusion is not particularly pleasurable. However, she quickly crooks her finger up towards your stomach, and the new angle has you biting back a moan. Her fingers are thick, a fact you had somehow missed until now. She slowly rocked her finger in and out, transfixed on the way you seemed to pull her in deeper. Your hips jumped involuntarily, and she used her other hand to press on your lower stomach, effectively holding you down. 

Finally, she looked back up at you, a smug look overtaking her features. Maintaining eye contact, she leaned her head down and pressed a kiss against your clit before licking a broad strip up your folds. The unexpected feeling made you let out a quiet yelp and your hand shot down to hold the top of her head. She hummed, as though she was appreciating your taste, and then continued her languid ministrations. You couldn’t help but let your moans free now, unable to conceal them because of the overwhelming pleasure. The vibrations from her moans added to the feeling, and you could feel yourself squirming despite her hold on your lower half. 

She detached her mouth from you and asked, “Does that feel good?” Then immediately dove back in. You were sure it was really a courtesy, considering the sounds you were making. Even so, you breathed out an ‘uh-huh’ and combed your fingers through her blonde locks. 

It was almost embarrassing. Your shameless moans and the wet sounds of her finger plunging inside you were the only noise in the room, but you couldn’t find it in you to care in your current state. The only thing you could focus on was the blissful pleasure Abby was giving you. She swirled her tongue in circles around your clit, and then funneled her lips around it to suck it into her mouth. You arched your back and gasped. Sweat started to form on your face and neck, making your hair stick to your skin. 

Just when you thought that it couldn’t feel any better she suddenly added another finger without slowing down. A particularly loud cry slipped from your lips, and you gripped her hair. She moaned unabashedly, licking at you faster. You could feel your orgasm approaching, and tried to shut your legs around her. She used her free hand to grab your thigh and push your leg up towards your chest and out, effectively keeping you open for her. Your hand that wasn’t in her hair fisted the pillow under you, and you turned your head to try to bury your face in it. The pace of her fingers didn’t falter as she lifted her head to say, “Cum for me. C’mon, you can do it. Cum on my fingers.” 

Her words sent you over the edge, and you let out a strangled whimper as your legs trembled. She kept fucking you through it, slowing her pace as you gradually came down. You gasped for air, panting like you just ran a marathon, and released your hold on her head. You could feel her kissing your thighs as she gently removed her fingers. You watched as she brought them up to her mouth, sucking your juices off of them. The pornographic sight made you flush, and you covered your face with your hands. You could hear her moving around, and then she wrapped her hands around your wrists and pulled your palms from your face. She flashed you a beautiful smile, and pecked you on the lips.

“Was that good?” She asked, settling onto her side next to you. You were still trying to catch your breath, and the question made you laugh. “Uh, yeah. I thought that was obvious.” You answered, turning over to face her. She smiled brighter and placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer. You nuzzled into her, your face finding a home in her neck. Your breathing finally settled, and she rubbed your spine up and down. Sleep began to overtake your body, and you fought to stay awake. “You can sleep, it’s okay.” Abby said, pressing her nose into the crown of your head. Her reassurance soothed you, and you allowed yourself to drift off in her arms.

#abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #the last of us part 2 #the last of us #tlou2 #abby tlou

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (02)

chapter two: in plain sight

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: cursing, drinking, suggestive content at the end, could've been edited more but oh well lol word count: 4.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › series masterpost › taglist

Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you

boyfriend - Ariana Grande ft. Social House

You end up not seeing Minho, nor any of your other friends, at all in the few days leading up to Yeonjun’s party.

True to your words, you were mostly holed up in your place, running on nothing but caffeine and sheer frustration, trying to finish your elective class’ final paper on the differences between the views of Greek philosophers. Time really flies when you wish it would slow down, because you could've used a couple more days to perfect the godforsaken thing.

You’ve been texting Minho though, and honestly, the man is practically a saint. You barely even talked about anything besides your stupid paper and your high maintenance perfectionist professor, and yet, he still listened to you yap away. He even offered to help you with your footnotes and citations, which you didn’t need, but the gesture was nice. If you had turned to Seungmin with your whining, he probably would've muted your notifications after three messages.

Regardless, all complaining aside, you did manage to pull through and finish the paper in the end, letting out a big sigh of relief the very second you clicked on the Send button on yours and your professor’s email thread just five minutes before the deadline.

Before you know it, it's already Saturday and Minho should be here any minute now so you two could go to the party. You’ve been working hard. You deserve to let a little loose tonight.

Even though a college party isn’t exactly your top choice of ways to wind down from stress, the mention of free and unlimited booze sure does sound alluring.

When your phone lights up with a simple i’m here from Minho, you quickly throw on a cardigan over a simple black camisole and denim shorts and check your makeup in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. He texted you a couple hours ago, saying he had some stuff to pick up near your place and asking if you wanted to walk to Yeonjun’s together. You sent him back an enthusiastic yes!!! in a matter of seconds, because lord knows you’d rather not enter the front door of that house unaccompanied. 

You opted for a simple fit tonight, mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to put on anything more decent only to go to the equivalent of a frat party.

“Hey, Min.” Your voice pulls him away from scrolling through his phone, diverting his attention to you instead.

“Hey,” he says, tucking the device into the pocket of his jeans. When he gives you a once-over, you do a little twirl for him, finishing off with an exaggerated kick of your foot at the end. “You look nice.”

“Just ‘nice’? I’m trying to get laid tonight. ‘Nice’ isn’t gonna cut it,” you joke.

He stares at you, a bashful expression befalling his features, the corner of his mouth lifted upward as he smiles in hubris. “You’re trying to get laid by whom?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “You tell me.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately before throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you close. One of his hands musses up your hair that you spent twenty minutes trying to make look perfect, prompting you to poke him in the side so he would let go of you.

“Hey!” you scowl, smoothing over the strands that he flicked out of place. “I worked hard on that!”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, clearly amused by the temporarily sulky look on your face. “Didn’t want you to look too pretty. Can’t have all of the attention on you. Someone might try to steal you away from me.”

“Did it occur to you that maybe I want some attention tonight? I’ve been a hermit all week, I deserve a little something.”

“Is my attention not enough for you?”

You squint at him for a second. Then, you start walking in the direction of Yeonjun’s house without waiting for him. You hear Minho launch a laugh your way, and the scuffling of his shoes on the concrete pavement as he easily catches up with you in a few strides.

He leans down to whisper directly into your ear, making your cheeks heat up but you’re glad that they’re partially masked by the poorly lit street. “You know you never have to try.”

The walk to the party takes about fifteen minutes. When you’re rounding the street corner that leads to Yeonjun’s place, you can already hear the booming music coming from the biggest house on the block. Even from a distance, you can see people on the lawn and the two balconies on the second floor. You gotta give it to the guy - he sure knows how to throw a party.

The second you enter the premises, you’re almost taken aback by how crowded it actually is even though you expected this. A typical Yeonjun party.

You tug on Minho’s shirt, beckoning him to bend down so you could talk into his ear over the sounds of bad EDM and people basically having to scream in each other’s faces. “Are Hyunjin and the others here yet?” you ask.

“They got here right before us. I think they’re in-”

“Y/N!” The two of you whip around at the sound of a shrill voice calling out your name. Yeonjun practically shoves his way through the crowd of people when he spots you, bounding up to you and Minho with a bright grin on his face. “Glad you could make it!” he says, paying no mind to the man next to you at all. He eyes you up and down, shamelessly tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Damn, you look really good tonight.”

You give him a playful eye roll. Nonetheless, you still tell him, “Thanks.”

“You look that good to come to my party?”

You don’t mind at all the fact that Yeonjun is a natural flirt. That’s just a part of his personality, he’s inherently charming like that. It’s harmless and it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Everything is all in good fun.

“Would you believe me if I said this is what I’d wear on a midnight convenience store run?”

“Ouch, you wound me.” Yeonjun says, holding a hand over his heart to emphasize his point. “C’mon, you can admit it.”

You open your mouth, a quick comeback about to be thrown his way but Minho chimes in from beside you.

“You should believe her,” he deadpans, stepping closer to you, one of his hands grazing your back. He's even standing straighter, with his chest all puffed out. “She even dresses like that when she takes out the trash.”

You turn to gasp at him before punching him right in the pec. “Hey!” Yeonjun is all but forgotten in a blink of an eye, because you have to defend your honor first.

“What? I’ve seen you do it wearing this exact same outfit.”

“Stop lying. It’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? I distinctly remember you wearing this when you went to take out the trash that night a couple of weeks ago while we were hanging out at your place.”

“Nuh uh. I didn’t take out the trash that night,” you protest, frowning. “I made you throw it out for me on your way-”

Yeonjun interrupts you with a chuckle, glancing between you and Minho as he gives your friend's shoulder an awkward pat. They share a look that you don’t quite understand. “Alright, duly noted. I’m gonna make myself scarce,” he says. “Help yourselves. Booze is in the kitchen!”

After you’ve finally squeezed your way into the kitchen that’s overflowing with people, you narrow your eyes at Minho. “What was that about?”

“What?” He scans the selection of liquor bottles on the kitchen island before asking you, “Rum and Coke?”

Your favorite.

You nod eagerly, momentarily distracted before you have to circle back to your question.

“What was all that back there with Yeonjun, Mr. Grumpy Cat?”

“What was what?” He pulls out two solo cups from a nearby stack, along with some napkins, and meticulously wipes the plastic cups even though they look pretty clean to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. He shrugs.

“I didn’t know you and Yeonjun were that close.” Minho seems casual as he tells you this, not looking at you as he fetches the necessary liquor and soda from the sea of glass and plastic bottles in front of you.

“We’re not. I’m kinda friends with him because Jess is friends with him.”

“Okay,” he acknowledges, though he doesn’t seem entirely pleased with… you don’t even know what. “I don’t like him. He’s loud.”

“That’s not a reason. Aren’t you friends with him too?”

You watch as he mixes your drinks, a sight you’re familiar with whenever you attend house parties together. He’s always your designated bartender.

One for you, one for him.

One part rum, two and a half parts coke.

“It is a reason. And ‘friends’ is a stretch,” he says, handing you your cup before he tends to his own. His has less liquor in it, because you both know you like yours stronger. “We’re acquaintances at best.”

“You’re loud too.”

“My brand of loud is different.”

“Is it?”

He gives you a look. An offended cat, if you’ve ever seen one.

“Well, Yeonjun’s not bad,” you tell him. You take a sip of the drink, then give him a subsequent thumbs-up. “He can be a bit much for some people, but I don’t really mind it.”

When he’s done, you both try to navigate the battlefield that is Yeonjun’s extremely cramped abode. You try to stay as close to him as possible, meaning away from the loud boys that are either trying to get shitfaced as quickly as possible, or trying to suck faces with any girl they could find as quickly as possible.

“Still. You don’t think the flirting was a bit much?”

Minho pulls you to him by your elbow when some guy - probably a little more than tipsy, judging by the unsteadiness of the legs that carry him - tries to bulldoze his way through the crowd behind you.

“He’s always like that. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s harmless.”

“If he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You blink at him in surprise, feeling like the question came out of nowhere. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s just a question,” he says, then repeats himself. “So, if he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You let him guide you to a spot that’s more breathable, where people aren’t practically on top of each other trying to weave their way through. You think about it for a second, then realize that there isn’t much to think about. “No,” you say decisively.

Because it doesn’t make sense to envision you and Yeonjun together. You practically sit on two opposing ends of the same spectrum. People often say that opposites attract, but this isn’t one of those cases.

And… because you simply feel strange thinking about yourself and someone else. Like it's something you shouldn't do.

Minho gives you a hum in acknowledgment of your answer, which you barely catch over the loudness of the party. You do catch the hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his lip though, before he cranes his neck to scan the room for any trace of your gang of thieves.

“If I didn’t know any better,” you run the words over in your head before you decide to utter them out loud. Like you told him just now, harmless, right? “I’d say you’re jealous of Yeonjun.”

He turns, stares at you for a moment with unreadable eyes. 

“And what if I am?”

There’s something incredulous in the way you look at him. You think he would just wave you off or roll his eyes and move onto a new topic, not expecting him to fire back with a question you can’t really answer.

Or maybe he’s just playing along. You can’t tell.

“Am I that good in bed?” you chuckle, hoping he doesn’t notice the inkling of nervousness in your voice. “Did I do a number on you?”

He raises both eyebrows, pursing his lips as if in thought. Then, he answers, “Something like that.”

There’s a part of you that wants to dig deeper, to get him to say what he really means because there’s something in his eyes and there’s something in the way that his hand has moved to its designated place on the small of your back that makes your stomach roll with anticipation.

Once again, you don’t like that he keeps getting harder for you to read.

You try to think of words to say, of questions to ask, though you know this party isn’t the best place to voice them. “What d-”

“There you are!” Hyunjin pops up from behind Minho, practically jumping onto his back like a jumpscare ghost in a horror game, startling the both of you and almost making the grumpy cat spill his drink. Minho groans as he tries to shove his friend off, before sending Hyunjin a glare that makes the man bow his head in apology. He promptly drags you to where your friends are gathered on a big couch near the back of the room - Chan and his girlfriend Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, along with a distinct absence of a few more faces.

“Where are the others?” you ask, plopping down next to Changbin, followed suit by Minho.

“Jisung is stuck finishing a project,” Chan informs you. “And Jeongin is taking his girl to that new drive-in movie place.”

“They’re still in their honeymoon phase?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Ah yes, young love. Good for them.”

You catch up with everyone about your week, about their week; gossip about how much Yeonjun might’ve spent on this party and where his family’s downright insane wealth actually comes from, about Seungmin’s on-and-off situationship (which might be more interesting than all of the above).

Minho remains seated next to you the entire time you’re all drinking and laughing with each other. He keeps subtly touching you one way or another - a hand on your back because no one’s really noticing, a shoulder brushing yours, a thigh touching yours, a knee nudging your own every now and then.

It’s not until you finish your drink that Minho asks if you want another one, then stands up to head to the kitchen when you say Yes, please.

The second he’s out of earshot, Hyunjin jumps into action, motioning for everyone to huddle together, like he’s about to share classified information.

“Minho is seeing someone,” he says immediately. 

“What?” Changbin asks. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your body immediately stiffens at the conversation’s sudden turn. You try to look as nonchalant and quiet as possible, as if this is just a talk about the weather, missing the way a pair of eyes flits to you outside of your peripheral vision.

Hyunjin purses his lips, before clarifying, “I went through his phone last week.”

“You went through his phone?” Chan frowns, shaking his head disapprovingly. “That’s not cool, dude.”

“He was in the bathroom and his phone was just sitting there unlocked. Then he got a text and I had to!” Hyunjin holds up his hands defensively. “Anyway, I don’t know if they’re dating or if they’re just fooling around, but there is someone! He’s simping hard.”

“How do you know that?” Seungmin chimes in. “Do you even know who it is?”

“I don’t know who it is. That’s what I need you guys to help me find out. There wasn’t a name name. He just calls her his-”

“What on earth are you guys doing?” Minho’s voice makes everyone disperse, leaning back into their respective seats like they were caught doing something they shouldn’t. He sits down beside you again, handing you your cup back. You give him an appreciative but awkward smile. “What is Hyunjin blabbing about this time?”

“Nothing!” Hyunjin practically squeaks. The poor guy can’t spin a little white lie to save his life. Then he has the audacity to look offended as he gapes, “Also, why did you automatically assume it was me?”

“Because it’s always you at the scene of the crime.”

“It happened one time! No, twice. It was only those two ti-!”

Seungmin cuts in flatly. “He said you’re whipped for a girl you’re seeing.”

Everyone stops to stare at Minho. Even you turn your head to look at him, trying to gauge how he’ll respond to this. It makes you a little guilty, seeing that you’re part of the secret too, and yet he has to shoulder the lies by himself.

Well, technically, there hasn’t been any lying involved up until now. Just a simple withholding of the truth.

His face hardens for a brief moment, and you think he lets it show on purpose - his way of telling Hyunjin that he’s annoyed - because Minho can put on a flawless poker face when he wants to. There’s a couple of seconds where he clenches his jaw before he relaxes, the sharpness of his features softening as he shrugs off the accusation. “I am most certainly not whipped for anyone,” he says. “It’s just a casual thing.”

“If it’s just casual, why were you being so secretive about it, huh?” Hyunjin prods. 

“I wasn’t being secretive. I just didn’t think it was anybody’s business,” Minho answers coolly. 

“We’re your best friends! I tell you guys everything.”

“You sure do. Even things I’d rather not hear about.”

Jess and Changbin burst into light laughter, and you chuckle along with them but you don’t really find it that funny. You’re just trying to blend into the background, be a fly on the wall and observe how things unfold. Minho has assured you that there’s nothing for you to worry about, that there’s no way they could find out about the secret, but still.

Hyunjin groans exasperatedly. The nosiest drama queen you know. “Seriously, who’s the girl? I’m dying of curiosity here!”

“Drop it.” Minho glares at him.

“Just give me a hint! Is it someone we know?”

“You haven’t eaten tissues in a while, have you?”

“Try me. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

“Hyunjin, I swear to-”

“Okay!” Chan claps his hands together suddenly. “Let’s just all agree that we are all entitled to our privacy and people can share whatever they want with whoever they want when they’re comfortable, yeah?”

Everyone nods in agreement, except for Hyunjin who narrows his eyes petulantly at Minho as if to say This isn’t over. No one wants to poke a disgruntled tiger, let alone about something he seems so disinterested in sharing. Minho has always been a notoriously private person, even with the rest of the group.

Changbin shuffles a new topic into the mix to move things along, which you aren’t very keen on contributing to at the moment. When no one seems to be looking, Minho places a hand on your knee, rubbing it soothingly as if he can sense the unease that you’re feeling. It makes you glance at him, though neither of you says anything. You just look at each other for a moment, then turn back to the group when someone calls your name.

Two hours and three rum and coke’s later, you were coming down from a good high when someone suggested ditching Yeonjun’s party to go to a club.

Normally, you would say no. You could only do one social event at a time, needing to recharge your metaphorical battery before you let yourself be dragged into the next one.

But you decided to make an exception for tonight.

Though, you promptly realized that it was probably a mistake.

You prefer the loudness of Yeonjun’s party than here. It’s loud and crowded, since it’s a Saturday night, and since it’s a club. The air is sticky and stuffy. The lights are perpetually blinding and headache-inducing. You’re not even on the dancefloor; you’re just hovering near the entrance and the bar, and there’s still barely any room to move. People keep trying to shove you out of their way, even with Minho attempting to act as your human shield. 

You let your displeasure be known through a deep frown.

Minho catches onto your chagrin almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning close to your ear to make sure you hear him over the music.

“Too many people,” you try to raise your voice so the booming noises don’t drown you out. “Can we go somewhere over there?”

He turns around, taps on Chan’s shoulder to get his attention before gesturing vaguely to that spot near the back that you just pointed out to him, presumably to let the others know that you’ll be wandering over there.

He takes your hand and leads the way. In the back, it’s still loud but less deafening than before, and much less crowded compared to the areas surrounding the dance floor.

“Better?” he asks.

You lean against the wall though you probably shouldn’t. The ick is apparent, but at this point in the night, you yourself are already feeling pretty gross anyway.

“A little bit,” you say. “Thanks.”

“You wanna go home? We can leave if you want.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

“Did you know that people who leave parties without saying goodbye save two days a year? It’s been researched.”

You rephrase your words so Minho would understand better. “Without Hyunjin’s permission?”

“Hyunjin has been pissing me off plenty all week. I can play my card for you.”

“What card?”

“The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ card.”

You tilt your head, clearly amused. “And how does that usually work out for you?”

“I don’t care how it works out because Hyunjin is not gonna do anything to me.” He shrugs. “Besides, I can always just throw him in the airfryer when he gets too annoying.”

This makes you laugh, recalling the exact moment Minho brought up the legendary instructions on how to cook Hyunjin.

“How violent,” you comment with a snort.

“He deserves it.”

“You know you still have a soft spot for him,” you say.

“I have a soft spot for you,” he replies.

“Now look who’s trying to get laid.”

He grins. “Could you blame me?”

Some drunk girls stumble into your space on their way to the bathroom, bumping into you, pushing you into Minho’s body where he instinctively puts a hand on your back to keep you steady. You glance up at him after the girls have safely arrived at the bathroom, only to find him already staring down at you. His back is turned toward where the lights are coming from and the angle shrouds his face in darkness, but you can still make out the stars twinkling in his eyes.

The sudden lack of space between your bodies makes your breath hitch.

“Are you still drunk?” he asks.

“No. Not really.” You don’t like the way your voice comes out small, vulnerable.

“I…” he starts, hesitating for a moment before he continues. His eyes flicker to your lips, and the breath that was previously caught in your throat further thickens. “Fuck, I really want to kiss you right now.”

For some reason, your heart leaps to your throat. It’s probably because of the remnants of alcohol refusing to leave your system, because how else would you explain the way your pulse quickens just from hearing those words coming from him?

He bites his lip, similar to how Yeonjun did it just a few hours ago, but seeing Minho do it is at least a hundred times more enticing.

You want him to kiss you too. You really do.

“What if the others see?” you protest meekly, but you’re already staring at his mouth, finding yourself gravitating toward him like he’s got you hypnotized.

“We’re all the way back here,” he tells you. “They won’t see anything.”

He leans closer until his lips are brushing yours. With a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your head, he meets your mouth in a soft kiss, which is a stark contrast to the upbeat and booming music blasting all around you. Some guy drunkenly gives you two a sleazy whistle, the sound coming from somewhere on your right, but neither of you pays it any attention.

Your hands come to clutch at the collar of his shirt like a lifeline. He’s never kissed you outside of the comfort of your bedroom before, let alone amidst a sea of people like this. It feels strange to be intimate with him in public, but at the same time, it excites you. There’s still a sense of anonymity because you’re camouflaged by the lights, masked by the darkness, hiding in plain sight.

The kiss gets more heated. He guides you a step back until you’re all pressed up against the wall, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging on it the way he likes that makes him groan against your mouth. He sucks on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle dancing with yours, making your knees buckle. It’s dizzying. It makes your head spin, and you don’t know if it’s because there’s still enough residual alcohol in your system to knock your world off its axis, or if it’s just him.

The hand previously on your hips sneaks underneath your shirt to rub at your bare skin. He gropes your breasts over the bralette you chose to wear tonight, squeezing the soft flesh in his palm, all the while slotting one of his legs between yours to help you grind on him. Your clothed cunt rolls over the denim of his jeans, and even though the friction is coarse and your movements are limited in this crowded space, the pleasure still sets your entire body alight. Minho spreads all over you like wildfire, and Minho consumes you like a hurricane.

You moan into his mouth when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, over the flimsy material of your undergarment. “Min,” you whimper desperately. You don’t know if he can hear you over the obnoxiously loud sounds coming from the speakers littered all over the place, but he groans against your mouth regardless. Almost like the nickname is driving him crazy.

He pulls back just slightly, to let the both of you catch your breath. “Should we go back to yours?” he asks, eyes still focused on your mouth.

You nod eagerly. You know you must be wet as hell right now, and if you have to wait any longer, you will probably explode from frustration. You might just drag him into that disgusting bathroom over there and let him have his way with you, but you will definitely regret it afterward because it’s a bathroom in a nightclub. It’s beyond revolting.

He helps you smooth out your hair, gentle and tender. In turn, you wipe your lipstick smudges on his face. Instead of taking you by the hand like he did earlier, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and navigates the two of you through the crowd, shielding you from anyone who might bump into you. You lean into the touch; it’s just comforting.

As you make your way back to the group - or what’s left of the group at the moment - his hand drops to his side again. There’s an inkling of disappointment that blossoms in you, but it dissipates quickly when Hyunjin spots you and lights up. Him and Seungmin are at the bar, seemingly trying to get the bartender’s attention. Changbin is next to them, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything other than the girl he’s chatting with. You try to scan the crowd for Chan and Jess, and find them a couple minutes later, standing in a corner, pressed up against each other just like you and Minho moments ago.

“Where did you run off to?” Hyunjin asks. Clearly Chan was too preoccupied with his girlfriend to relay the information.

“It’s too loud in here, I was getting a headache,” you say, only half a lie. You know your face must still be flushed from your impromptu makeout session, but you hope your friend can’t see the rosy shade painting your skin under all the flashing lights. “Min and I just went back there to see if it was quieter.”

“Okay.” He seems to believe you. “We’re trying to get drinks! You want anything?”

“I think I’m gonna just go home. You guys stay and have fun though.”

Hyunjin looks at you like he’s so flabbergasted. “It’s not even 3AM yet!”

“Headache,” you say, pointing to your temple with an exaggeratedly pained expression on your face. “I’ll stay out all night with you next time.”

“But-!” The second he opens his mouth to protest, Minho cuts in sharply, his tone leaving no room for anyone to argue despite the gigantic pout on Hyunjin’s face.

“I’m gonna take her home and call it a night too,” he simply says.

Hyunjin groans, but he relents in the end, muttering to you something that sounds like “You owe me one,” when you go to hug him goodbye. Before you and Minho can reach the door, you hear your man child of a friend call after you two in his pterodactyl voice, “Don’t make Minho’s girl jealous!”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 04.01.2024]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho #fic: wishful thinking

[iveleftitwithyou]

casual | paul lahote x reader smut

NSFW | 18+ | minors DNI | word count: 2.38k

warnings: smut, dom!paul, slight angst, mention of fighting, i think that's it?

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i asked you guys if i should post this now or incorporate it into ruderal, and the result was overwhelmingly to post it now, so here it is with some plot adjustments! i've been OBSESSED with this song by chappell roan and knew i needed to make it into an imagine, although this song is probably about a woman lol. highly recommend listening to the song as you read this. this is my first time EVER writing smut so i hope its not too bad - as always, let me know what you think :)

ALSO this is in an alternate timeline where the guys are all like 21+ and so is y/n :)

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Paul’s hand lingered on your thigh as he drove the winding road back to Forks, his thumb rubbing small circles on your outer leg. the radio hummed with a song you couldn’t manage to pay attention to, instead focusing your gaze on the motion of his finger on your bare thigh. while you assumed the gesture was meant to comfort you, it did a lot more than that. you hoped that the darkness would obscure Paul’s peripheral vision enough for him to not realize you were ogling his muscular arms and unusually large hands. his veins protruded in a way that drove you crazy for some reason, and as much as you were still upset with him, you couldn’t help the rush of hormones that flooded at the sight.

Embry had made some stupid joke about you at the bonfire at Emily's that night, a common occurrence when you hung out with the pack. he didn’t mean anything by it, you joked around with each other like that all the time, but Paul had been extra sensitive for the last few weeks as he spent more hours on patrol. Victoria’s looming presence and the mystery murders happening around Washington meant the reservation needed increased protection, and the men in the pack had to step up. Embry’s comment led to a fight where the pair both phased, snarling and snapping until they both came to their senses and things went back to normal. you hated when Paul shifted because of you, even if it was just indirectly your fault like it was tonight. 

you two were meant to be casual, despite Paul having imprinted on you, as you had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and weren’t ready to commit to someone again. you’d been seeing each other casually for months, hanging out, and getting to know each other better. as much as you were hesitant to let him into your life completely, you couldn’t deny your attraction to Paul. he’d been nothing but a gentleman thus far, bringing you flowers on dates, opening doors for you, and following your boundaries to a T, terrified to mess anything up with you. of course, his physical form was unlike anything you’d ever seen - you were lucky that he preferred to hang out without a shirt on. things had gotten hot and heavy between you two a few times but hadn’t gone farther than some very intense making out. though, the way Paul’s hand touched you now was enough for you to throw those boundaries out the window; you wanted him - no, needed him.

you focused your eyes back on the road in front of you, only being able to see as far as the truck’s dim headlights illuminated. breathe in, breathe out, you reminded yourself, trying to calm down the butterflies in your stomach. you were unsuccessful, and it didn’t help that Paul’s hand was inching closer and closer to your hips.

suddenly, his hand snaked further inward and his grip tightened, engulfing your inner thigh. your breath hitched, and you unsuccessfully tried to mask it as a cough. you saw Paul smirk out of the corner of your eye, but he didn’t look over at you. 

you once again reminded yourself to breathe as the ache between your legs became more apparent. his hand loosened its grip and continued its journey towards your core. half of you thought about stopping him purely as punishment for fighting with Embry, but the much louder other half wouldn’t dream of it right now.

you couldn’t help but let out a small groan as his hand finally reached your jean shorts, his fingers tracing the seam that ran between your legs. the slight pressure he applied drove you absolutely crazy as you wished for more friction.

the sound that escaped your lips seemed to do something to Paul as he let out a breathy groan of his own. “alright, that’s it,” he mumbled, turning the wheel toward the side of the road. he must have known exactly where you were because he easily pulled the truck behind a set of bushes that obscured most of it from the road. any passerbys, which were few and far between at this time of night anyway, wouldn’t notice the vehicle.

almost as soon as he slammed the gear shift into park, his lips were on yours. he kissed you with a passion you’d never felt before. you melted into his lips, reminding yourself for the third time that night that if you didn’t start breathing, you would pass out. he gripped the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair as you continued to make out. his other hand traveled down your arm, to your hip, and unbuckled the seatbelt you’d been wearing. in one swift, but slightly awkward motion, he disconnected your lips for a brief moment and grabbed each side of your hips, pulling you across the center console onto his lap. you were careful not to lean too far and hit the horn with your back as you settled onto him, silently thanking Paul for owning such a spacious truck. your knees settled on either side of his legs. 

as you sat down on his lap, you brushed his hardening length with the same seam of your shorts his hand was just on, eliciting a quiet moan from both of you. impatient, Paul once again gripped your scalp and slammed your lips together. you allowed your hands to slip underneath the hem of his shirt, feeling the outline of the muscles on his bare abdomen. this feeling, combined with the warmth radiating from his bare skin, drove you insane. 

“take- it- off-” you mumbled in between kisses, tugging the hem upwards. you were unsure of where the forwardness came from, but you didn’t stop long enough to be embarrassed. 

“you don’t get to tell me what to do,” he snarked half-jokingly but obliged.

the moonlight streaming in from the windshield was just enough for you to be able to see the outline of his pecs and abs, and you really couldn’t help but stare.

“like what you see?” he chuckled, noticing your eyes widening at his physique.

you nodded, unable to form words, instead opting to smash your lips back together with all of the strength you could muster. you’d had enough of looking flustered - you wanted to take initiative.

you raised your hips again, pushing your abdomen against Paul's and lowering yourself onto his member. you rocked your hips back and forth as he moved his lips down your cheek, then your jaw, and eventually to your neck. the friction as you continued to grind against him elicited a low growl against your neck as his lips attached to your skin. you moaned embarrassingly loudly as he sucked at the delicate skin, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be sheepish. in fact, the only emotion surging through your body right now was pure desire for the god-like man leaving a series of hickeys on your neck.

“Paul, that’s gonna leave a mark,” you whined. you knew you’d regret letting him do it in the morning but right now you wanted nothing more than for him to mark you as his. you wanted to be his.

“don’t want anyone else getting any ideas. you’re all mine,” he retorted, lifting his head up to look you in the eyes. his were almost completely black with lust. “say it.” he commanded, holding your jaw tightly in his hand. “say you’re mine.”

“i’m all yours, Paul” you panted, your hips continuing to move back and forth on Paul’s lap as you stared into his dark eyes. despite your relationship still being undefined, truer words had never been spoken.

“good girl. now shut the fuck up and get back in the passenger seat.” his harsh words did nothing to discourage you from obeying as you scrambled to sit back where you were a few minutes prior. this was a side of Paul you had only seen when he was angry: dark, commanding, dominating. usually, you would have to try to calm him down when he got like this, but right now, you were very much enjoying him telling you what to do. you already missed the warmth of his body on yours as you climbed back over to the other seat, but you instinctually knew better than to voice your complaints right now.

Paul leaned across the console, reaching his hand between your knees and under the seat to move it back as far as it would go. once he was satisfied with that, he reached across your lap and pulled the reclining handle, his other hand helping to lower the seat back slowly so you weren’t sent flying backward.

“scooch back” he ordered again, and you moved your hips backward on the seat, supporting yourself with your elbows on the very edge of the seat near the headrest.

you were confused as he opened the driver-side door and hopped out of the truck. you watched as he opened the passenger-side door, it becoming clear now what his plan was. you pulled your knees towards your chest as he climbed back in, kneeling on the floor mat in front of you. god damn, this truck was spacious, and you were incredibly grateful for that right now.

his large hands fumbled to unbutton your shorts. he pulled the zipper down and you lifted your hips, followed by your legs, so he could slide them off. not wanting to wait another second, he pulled your underwear to the side and connected his thumb to your clit. you let out a loud gasp at the sensation and he chuckled proudly, knowing how good he was making you feel. Paul rubbed small, tight circles on the sensitive nub for a few seconds before you felt a finger dip into your wet folds. a guttural moan escaped your throat as you finally got the sensation you had been waiting for since his hand had rested on your thigh earlier in the night.

he added a second finger shortly after and continued to pump in and out of your heat, his thumb continuing its circular motions on your clit. you could feel your orgasm building inside of your core, and it was almost euphoric knowing it was Paul making you feel like this.

“Paul, i’m gonna-” you moaned, getting close to the edge. “what the fuck?” he’d removed his fingers altogether upon hearing this and you were not happy about it. 

“patience, princess.” he chuckled, making eye contact with you once again as he raised his fingers to his mouth to taste you on them. you were still pissed at him for teasing you like that, but the sound he made as he licked your wetness off himself almost made it worth it. almost.

“let’s take these off, shall we? or should i rip them off?” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear.

“don’t you dare,” the one rational brain cell you had left replied, lifting your hips for him to slide them off like he did the shorts. you liked this pair. Paul held your hips back down as he spread your legs open, leaning his torso over the seat until you could feel his breath between your legs, amplified by the wetness that had come with the teasing.

“god, you look so fucking good” he took a second to admire the sight before him before he groaned lustfully and connected his tongue to your cunt. he made quick work of finding all the right spots to hit, causing your legs to tremble and your eyes to roll back in your head. at this rate, you wouldn’t last long, but you never wanted this moment to end.

“oh, fuck,” you moaned as he continued to circle the sensitive nub with his tongue. you had never felt this connected to someone before, not any of your exes. no one had ever made you feel as good as Paul was in this moment. as he continued the motions of his tongue, you realized Paul was perfect for you in every way, including this one. it was like pre-nut clarity.

you felt the pressure building up again, somehow even stronger than last time, unable to contain your moans. “fuck, Paul, i’m gonna cum” you groaned, arching your back against the seat as Paul continued to hold your hips down harshly against it. you figured there would be bruises there tomorrow, and the thought of him marking you up even more only exacerbated your growing orgasm.

“cum for me, princess” Paul mumbled against your clit, giving you permission to let go. it only took a couple more swipes for you to come completely unglued against his mouth.

Paul gradually slowed down his motions, guiding you through your orgasm as your hips attempted to buck against his face, craving the stimulation. eventually, your brain started to function again, and the first thing you thought was that that was definitely the best orgasm you’d ever had. you couldn’t tell Paul that, though - it would boost his ego way too much, and he already had a huge one to begin with. the second thought that went through your head was that you were ready for Paul to be your boyfriend. no man could eat you out that good and get away from you.

he admired his work as you panted in front of him, a smirk of pride on his face. he loved knowing he was the one who made you feel so good. he raised himself up on his knees to hover over you, one arm resting on the seat to support himself as the other snaked behind your back to pull you to his chest. you wrapped your arms around his back, settling your face in the crook of his neck. your breaths were soon in time with each other, basking in the body heat radiating from the both of you.

you could have stayed like that forever, but after a few minutes, Paul pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes. he seemed deep in thought before he smiled and opened his mouth to ask you a simple question: “is it casual now?”

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part 2 here :)

#paul lahote #paul lahote smut #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote fanfiction #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x reader smut #paul lahote x y/n #twilight #the twilight saga #fanfic #fanfiction #midnight sun #jacob black #edward cullen #bella swan #twilight obsessed #twilight smut #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom #twilight fic #twilight forever #twilight fanfic #twilight movies #twilight books #wolf pack #the wolf pack

[eternalwritess]

I may know someone - Platonic!Alastor & tech demon!reader + Vox x tech demon!reader

Summary: Vox is holding a grudge against the hotel and refuses to air the commercial that they created. But Alastor has someone in mind who might just be able to help...

"I always knew Vox was petty," Alastor hummed picking at his nails. He wasn't pleased to say the least. Not about the commercial of course, if it was possible for him to care less about it then he would. But rather with Vaggie at his door demanding that he do something about it, along with Charlie's pleading eyes trying to calm Vaggie so she could try and convince Alastor.

Quite honestly he didn't know what they thought he could do. He was injured for crying out loud. His wound from Adam still hurt like a truck and not to mention that he and Vaggie made a deal so he wouldn't have to deal with the picture box anymore.

"Please Al, I won't ask anything else of you!" Charlie begged bouncing on the tips of her feet whilst still attempting to hold Vaggie back, although with their wings it was getting harder as she would flap them out constantly.

"You shouldn't lie dear, isn't that an unholy quality?" He asked with some hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Alastor just try and fix it alright, we built this whole hotel and-" Alastor cut Vaggie off with an influx of static.

"Didn't we make a deal about this my dear?"

Vaggie paused for a moment before sighing and walking away leaving Charlie.

"Please, Alastor," She paused for a moment looking at him. "We really need this right now alright? Besides just think about it, more sinners means more entertainment for you if thats what you want," She said slowly walking over into him room before stopping once he glanced at her.

"Besides just think of all the fun you would have watching me uh," She paused thinking for a moment. "Struggle to rehabilitate sinners!" She added throwing up her arms in the air as a punctuation to her sentence.

Alastor sighed and met her eyes. "I really can't do anything dear, I only control the radio and besides, I doubt that rabble box will even listen to me. I don't know how to work this," he made a wild gesture with his hand. "Frivolous new technology works,"

His smile grew tight with disgust. "Its not worth the trouble anyways," he huffed and looked over to the side.

Charlie sighed and glanced away. "Fine, thats reasonable I guess," She groaned and smoothed down her wrinkled hair and began walking out the door.

"I wonder if dad would help me with this," she muttered as she walked along. Now that was something Alastor just couldn't have. He grit his teeth and tapped his staff onto the ground disappearing into shadow and reappearing in front of Charlie.

"Now now dear I didn't say I wouldn't help you-"

"You basically did though-"

Alastor put his finger in front of her mouth shushing her. "It is rude to interrupt don't you know?" He took his hand back and set it on his staff.

"I do know someone who might be able to help in our little endeavor. Rosie adores her quite so and I think that she might just be interested in this. Besides she is an old friend of mine," He explained bending down and smiling even wider.

It's been a while since he's seen you. He'd like to visit you after all and this would stick it to Lucifer and Vox. He's winning on all three sides of the coin.

"Well then! Can I meet her?"

"Patience Charlotte, come, come now. The place where she lives is quite dangerous indeed. It would be a shame for you to be harmed there,"

He hummed and walked her out the hotel. "You'll need to stay by me at all times. Do you understand?"

She nodded and Alastor nodded with her. "Good girl,"

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

You spun around in your chair. This was the fifth time today. If anyone else came into your office proclaiming they they needed your help you were gonna flip.

You weren't an overlord. But damn did you manage this side of the pentagram. A space so fucked that not even the strongest overlord would set their sights here. Too much work for not enough profit you would say. Honestly? You would agree if you weren't somewhat attached to this rancid place.

Knock knock.

You gripped your desk and groaned mentally, bracing yourself for whoever was at the door next.

"I swear to god Susan call me again for your fucking cat and I will shove it's claws up your-" You opened the door with a shout and stopped upon seeing a familiar red color scheme.

"Alastor- holy shit!" You laughed and stepped back. "Sorry for the shouting, its been a..." You trailed off and sighed shaking your head. "Rather stressful day," You snapped your fingers electricity from them instantly snapping on the lights to emit a warm glow from them.

Behind him was someone with blonde hair and red eyes and a red suit. God was there a lot of red going on here. "Who's this?" you asked gesturing over to her. "Looks nice, didn't know she was your type," You laughed before shaking your head not allowing Alastor to react.

"I'm kidding, I know you've got an ace up there," you laughed tugging at his sleeve before letting it go.

Alastor paused for a moment. "What?"

You moved on giggling. "Come on introduce her, Rosie would have your head for behavior like this," you laughed and grabbed the girl's hand.

"This is Charlotte Morningstar! Princess of hell and owner of the delusional establishment known as the Hazbin Hotel!" He said patting 'Charlotte's' head.

"You can call me Charlie," She quickly corrected. You nodded and bent down bowing down to her and raising her hand slightly above your head.

"Pleasure to meet you your highness, what can I do for you today. After all I doubt you come here on pleasantries," you gestured outside to where a few demons were about to have either an orgy or a torture scene. You pulled them in further shutting the door and closing the windows.

"Well you see I've been having a bit of trouble lately. Well see this man, Vox, refuses to air the commercial I made for my hotel. So I was wondering if you could possibly do something about it," She offered. She smiled warmly and you looked over to Alastor.

"Vox isn't really..." You sighed and rubbed your forehead. "Do you want me to talk with him? Cause I don't know him besides that fact that his tech is nothing more than flashy shit," you explained.

"No, no, no, no, well I mean... I just want my commercial aired, I can pay you if you'd like," She offered.

You paused and shook your head glancing over to Alastor. "What do you think that I can do?" you asked tilting your head over to him. Of course he would bring her to you, what else were you expecting.

"Well you can infiltrate Vox and his filthy lair! Get the commercial up and running!" He said with a swing of his arm.

You groaned and sat down in your chair. "Really? And how do you suppose I'm even gonna get close enough to do such a thing?"

"Why my dear you'll only have to do a flick of a wrist, I doubt that Vox knows he's not the only one with powers like yours," he said and gestured over to you grandly, as if introducing you all over again.

With a sigh you looked over to Charlie. Money didn't really mean shit here, besides you knew better than to say no to Alastor. Friends be damned, if he wanted something you had to give it to him unless you had a good reason which, you really didn't. Other than you just didn't want to of course.

"Alright then, I don't need to get paid though, just puts a target on my back-"

"Alrighty then!" Alastor was cut off by you.

"But, you're getting me over there. Got it smiles?" You asked looking over to him. His grin grew tight and you felt your grow at that.

"Of course, it would be unkindly of me if not,"

Charlie squealed and grabbed your hand pulling you up and giving you a hug. "Thank you! Thank you ! Thank you! Thank you so much! I will not forget this, I swear!" She was bouncing up and down as you laughed and slowly pushed her away.

"Alright, don't get too happy about it. I still don't know if I can do it,"

"Don't worry, if any demon in this wretched realm can do it its you," Alastor said giving you a half pat on the head before you swiped his hand away.

"Alright then, so when do you want me to do this?" You asked.

"Oh take your time-"

"Now would be preferred. Here I'll even lead you," Alastor said grabbing you and pulling you in by the hook of your arm. You stumbled over and glared at him playfully a grin forming across your lips as you gaining your footing.

"What about the princess?" You pointed over to Charlie who was bouncing on her feet excitedly.

"Oh we can stop by the hotel on our way over, don't worry y/n,"

You laughed and looked over to Charlie. "Oh my god, I didn't tell you my name!" You laughed and stuck your hand out once more. "Y/n,"

She shook your hand and smiled. "Don't worry about it, besides I'm sure Al would've told me it,"

You nodded and turned over to Alastor. "Alright then, lead the way,"

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

To call the hotel a giant eyesore might be an understatement. It was clear that Alastor didn't design the thing whether that be for good or for worse. It's lights basically dissected your eyes into thousands of tiny little pieces.

God was it bright.

"So the V's are what they're called then?" You asked brushing off tiny specks of dust on your shoulder. You just had a conversation with someone named Angel and god did it feel wrong.

"Yes! They're quite incompetent though, nothing you need to worry about," He said patting your head once more. You groaned mentally at the gesture and watched as he spun his microphone around.

"Really? Aren't they overlords?" You questioned further adn watched how Alastor's grin grew tight at the mention.

"Yes but they're awfully pathetic and act like children. Throwing temper tantrums here and there," he paused for a moment before shutting his eyes and flitting them to you. "Actually you'd be more of a competent overlord than them-"

You held up a hand. "No, no, we've been over this. I'm not an overlord. I don't have nearly enough power-"

"I could help with that," He smiled and you watched the green and red glow light up from behind him.

"Uh huh, so you could put me on a leash? Yeah, no thanks," You rolled your eyes at the offer and watched as he laughed it off with you.

"No no, just as a friendly gesture. Of course a favor wouldn't be too bad I suppose,"

You laughed once more. "A favor? from me? I'm sorry but being gone for seven damn years must've screwed with your head. I can't do anything,"

You both stopped in front of a large building. At least in the alleyway of a shop in front of it. You noticed how Alastor avoided the cameras, he must've done this thousands of times.

"Aren't you doing this?" Alastor gestures over to the building.

Three V's hung at the very top of a very colorful building and- you take it back this is worse than the hotel. You winced at the colors and looked over to Alastor. "I might change my mind,"

You watched as he laughed for a short amount of time before returning to you. "Well then we better hurry up I suppose my dear," He snapped his fingers and you watched the cameras glitch for a second. "We'll only have a moment now," He said and he walked out with you and into a backroom of the building and- god the inside might just be worse.

Thousands of LEDs strung up around the hall with tons of flashing lights. Stuff to draw one's attention. You just wanted to get out. You followed Alastor around before he stopped. "You know the way from here?" He asked.

You paused and looked at him. "Please tell me you didn't-"

"I haven't been here before. I've never had a reason to before now," He said and tapped his staff onto the ground leaning on it for support. His ears bent slightly back in frustration.

You glanced at the cameras and sighed for a moment before looking back at him. "A minute please," you hummed and flicked a small bit of electricity over before tapping a device on your wrist generating a hologram. You watched as it flickered between the different places before stopping on one.

"Got it, we need to be in the room though and uh," You pointed to the hologram showing someone in the room. Alastor squinted and sighed.

"He was always obsessed," he groaned and looked over to you. "Get over there I'll lead him out and- don't get caught. Got it?" His gaze hardly even looked at you but you nodded anyways.

"Sir yes sir," You laughed and ran over towards where it would be. Having access to the cameras made it easier now you'd have to admit. You watched as people passed by and when you rarely messed up you knew where to go next. Then you reached the room. A room full of tv's and god- this was creepier in person.

You walked over looking down at the ledge of which the room seemed to drop forever. Yikes, you wouldn't wanna fall down there. You looked at the cameras seeing the guy from before shout at Alastor who was breaking a ton of stuff with a look on his face that said he was having way too much fun with this.

You looked over at the tv's and smiled flicking of bit of the electricity into the tv's and watching as it squirmed through. That should do it. You watched as it slowly ran through the computers and it flicked through everything. The channels, commercials, and god you're not looking at that one, until you found it. The commercial. With a grin you clicked approve and watched as it slowly became permanent with the humming from the computers agreeing with your own.

"That should do it," you muttered and looked back at the cameras and-

shit.

He's almost here.

You hissed to yourself cursing that you weren't more careful. Goddammit, you need an out, and now. You looked around the room and facepalmed mentally. This was horrible. The only thing you could hope to do it wait by the door and hope that he didn't see you.

You ran over and slid by the door covering your mouth. This was gonna suck. You balled your fists ready to get into a fight, you knew how to fight, you lived in the worst part of the fucking pentagram. You knew all the moves, you knew how to fight dirty. You raced through your head trying to gather your thoughts but none came. Your knees became weak. This was a real overlord. Alastor was a real overlord, shit what were you thinking.

You could hear the footsteps get closer and closer. Each step felt like hell to bare.

You can't remember how to fight, you readjust your hands trying to remember how to not break your thumb. The door handle turns and you almost lose it. You almost bolt down into the abyss. Hell it might be a better death than fucking with some flashy guy's tech.

Crash

"Dammit Alastor!" You hear the reverberate of a tv penetrate your ear. God it hurts, the footsteps retreat and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You let your hand fall to your side not letting yourself gain the time to process what just happened. Once the noise was gone you checked the cameras.

Nothing.

You opened the door and bolted it checking the cameras constantly until you were out of the wretched building. You panted heavily catching your breath as you leaned into the alleyway you and Alastor were at before. There was a fight, you could hear it. The shouting, the screaming. God were you glad you had Alastor. You covered your mouth and watched as everything slowly died down and a shadow slithered up to you.

You moved your feet back and watched as Alastor reformed in front of you. "Sorry for that one darling, I hope he didn't get too close," he said and pulled you in for a half side hug before letting you go.

"No, not... not at all," you muttered and watched as Alastor paused for a moment.

"Well he didn't see you did he?"

You looked up and paled at the thought. "Hell no! I... I hope not," you admitted slowly. "There's- there's no way," you said firmly once more and looked at Alastor who nodded.

"Understood, come along then we have work to do,"

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

Vox slammed the door into the control room. His suit was tattered and who the fuck did Alastor think he was was starting trouble on his territory. He groaned and watched as his tech lit up with almost a new color. He paused for a moment and walked forward watching as it glowed brighter than anything he's ever seen before dulling and disappearing into the darkness.

Weird.

He touched his keyboard and felt the energy spark him and it hurt. It. Hurt. He made a small face before touching it again and it hummed in response before finally fading out. Electricity wasn't supposed to hurt him. So what the hell was that? He paused and watched as it returned to its normal state and sighed before seeing something playing on the screen.

The commercial. The fucking Hazbin Hotel bullshit was playing on his screens. He slammed his hand down and began trying to fix it only to find it kicking him out. What the hell? He tried again only to be met with the same fate not only that but a message appearing on the screen.

You cannot access this. Please try something else.

He shouted in frustration. "What the fuck is happening!?" He swiped over the screens and found something.

Footage.

Footage of what the hell happened.

Next? --->

if you would like to be notified just comment so :)

#vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #but not really lol #alastor hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel #the reader is kinda an overlord but not a well known one #uhhh yeah #part 2 coming soon #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr

[hauntedwitch04]

Thank you

Regulus Black x reader

Words: about 0.7k words

Warnings: smut, and some fuff

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

p,s not really proud of this one, I just know it's not my best work but I kinda have caught a cold right now and now I have a terrible headache

Requests are open I Ask

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If you like my works, consider to buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 9: Somnophilia

"Praise Merlin, how can he be so cool even when he's sleeping?" You ask yourself, rightly, as you watch your sleeping boyfriend, drooling on his pillow. Although the scene in front of you isn't that sexy, you can't help but feel your panties getting wet from wanting to feel Reggy inside you.

You have already taken off your heels and have few layers left on, only the dress you had on to go out with the girls this evening to the pub, and underwear. You weren't very sure about going out this evening, but Regulus insisted that you wouldn't be scared off by the occasion and to enjoy an evening with your friends. Just that gesture alone was actually enough to make you fall on your knees before him, and give him the most beautiful orgasm he had ever experienced just with the use of your lips and tongue, but you promised yourself to thank him after the evening, or you would ruin the trick.

Now, as soon as you got home, after your friends had helped you after the larger-than-usual amount of alcohol they had made you drink, to relax you after the intense weeks you had been through, you want nothing more than to feel Regulus' body on yours, or rather inside you.

You also take off the last remaining clothes on you and slip under the covers. Before lowering yourself to his waist level, you give him a light kiss on the forehead, but immediately regret your action, for fear of waking him up.

Slowly you lower yourself down to the height of what you have been longing for for hours now, while with your mouth you leave a trail of hot kisses all along his body. Gently you slip off his boxers, the only garment Reggy usually sleeps in. Immediately in front of you appears the object of your desire. You never really got used to Regulus' dick. You had been with other guys before him, but none could match him in size or thickness.

Once you have her member in front of you, you begin to stroke it gently, soon getting it hard. You leave a few kisses on the tip, then take it between your lips and bob your head up and down. Your boyfriend has no reaction at first, only after a few minutes do you hear him moan faintly, so you look up and see that he is still immersed in dreamland, however. You continue pleasuring him, adding not only the movement with your mouth but also that of your tongue, even helping yourself with your hand, since you couldn't get it all in your mouth.

You feel him waking up when you now know he is about to orgasm. You feel him rest his hand on your head, so you look up one more time and see his still sleepy blue eyes looking at you confused, but full of passion.

"Love what are you doing?" Regulus asks you between moans, without stopping though. You do not answer until you feel him explode inside your mouth and send down all his seed, which he had released. Once your mouth was clear again, you answer him, while still staring into his eyes.

"I wanted to thank you for convincing me to go out with my friends, we had a really good time." You say giggling, before adjusting your boxers where they were before and throwing yourself into his arms.

"You didn't have to do that love, I only did it because I wanted you to have a good evening with them." He comments, as he pulls you into his arms, even tighter, and kisses you on the forehead.

"But I wanted to." You retort, already with your voice a bit slurred by alcohol and sleep, you can't help but slowly fall asleep.

"Good night baby." He whispers in your ear, watching you slowly fall into the arms of Morpheus.

"'Night Reggy." You answer before you go completely unconscious.

"Prepare to be awakened with a surprise tomorrow morning." He whispers in your ear, before also falling asleep, with a smile on his lips, squeezing your waist even tighter.

TAGLIST

@samanddeansannoyingsis @forsiriussake @thedogisontopofyhecarmom @estrellademiel @ohemgeewhat @kidsaproblem @camelliaflow3r @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @hi-my-name-is-riley @morganalatina21 @nightfiress @shodowbane09 @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr @starsval

#marauders x reader #regulus x reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus imagine #regulus black smut #marauders smut #marauders imagine #kinktober 2023 #hauntedwitch04's writing

[avonne-writes]

https://www.tumblr.com/avonne-writes/744097471832129536/once-just-once-buck-agrees-to-drink-alcohol-and

I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT HOW BUCKY WOULD REACT TO THIS?

It took all of Bucky's charms to convince Gale to drink with them on Bucky’s 25th birthday. He begged and pleaded and cajoled him with his best puppy dog eyes until that half-suppressed smile appeared on Gale's face, and he said. "Suppose I can stomach one glass."

So, they went to the nearest bar in town with all the other cadets who had a weekend pass. Bucky got them both a stiff drink, and they clinked glasses before throwing them back, to the cheers of Bucky's friends. Well, Bucky threw it back. Gale gave it a long look, then took about half a sip.

Bucky could see him shudder, his plump lips purse. He leaned back against the bar, his elbows on the counter, and snorted a laugh. "I can take it off your hands if you don’t like it."

Gale just gave him a glance from the corner of his eye, then poured the whole thing down his throat. A muscle tightened in his jaw as he put his glass down, probably fighting nausea. He turned and put his palms flat on the bar as if to steady himself as the burning liquid settled in his stomach.

Bucky nodded at him, trying and failing to hold back a grin. "Look at you."

It was hard to tell in the bar's warm light, but Gale's cheeks seemed pink already. He blinked at his empty glass, then looked at Bucky and smiled as though he thought something was very funny. "Happy birthday."

Bucky's grin widened. He squeezed Gale's shoulder, then turned to gesture for the barkeep. "Another one for me and a ginger beer for my friend."

-

Bucky was on his third drink and just about starting to feel the buzz of it in his limbs when he noticed Gale watching him. They were seated in a booth by then, trapped in the corner by all the other guys who came to celebrate with them. Their friends were trying to outyell each other as they all fought to tell the same story to a pair of hapless girls they managed to invite to the table. So no one paid any attention when Bucky turned to look at Gale and found him looking back. For a moment, they just stared into each other's eyes, then Gale averted his and smiled. Again, as if the world around him was the most amusing thing ever. He was flushed, his blue eyes shiny.

Bucky's lips curled into a wide grin. "Feeling good?" He asked. When Gale tried to control his smile and failed to wipe it off his face, he laughed. "Got you good, didn't it?"

Gale rubbed at his forehead and leaned against Bucky's side. His gaze lacked its usual sharp gleam and his hand moved in less measured gestures than usual - he was completely buzzed. "I'm fine."

"I can see that." Bucky chuckled. The fact that Gale was a lightweight didn't surprise him at all. Originally, he had thought that maybe he could get a few more drinks in him, but seeing him after only one, he knew that sticking to ginger beer for the rest of the night would probably be for the best. "Do you need some air?"

Gale shook his head. Then, Bucky felt it - under the table, Gale's fingers were hooked into the belt of his uniform. Who knew when they found their way there. They clung to him as he leaned back in his seat, and Gale’s shoulders followed to find his again. A muscle twinged in Bucky's chest. His grin faded into something more muted as he studied Gale's flaming face, the way his smile dug deeper lines into his cheek whenever he glanced in Bucky's direction from the corner of his eyes, the way he bowed his head, and the shadows his eyelashes cast.

He couldn't resist, he bumped his knuckles lightly against Gale's cheek. It felt hot to the touch. The gesture made Gale snicker, then hide his face behind his free hand as he often did when he didn't want to draw attention to his laugh. With butterflies fluttering in his stomach, Bucky slid his arm behind Gale, palm coming to rest warmly on Gale's shoulder. He felt his own face heat up when, instead of staying still as usual, Gale leant his whole weight into the embrace as if he was starving for it. He even tipped his head back to rest it on Bucky’s arm. His hand slipped to Bucky's thigh.

Bucky looked around, but none of their friends seemed to notice. Most of them were also well on their way to drunkenness. Only he was running behind, it seemed. A situation he couldn't say he was familiar with, but given the state Gale was in, he thought that was a lucky thing. He leaned in to whisper into Gale's ear.

"Do you wanna leave?"

Gale closed his eyes, still smiling, then nodded. That was all Bucky needed. With some effort, he managed to extricate them out of the booth, crawling over some of the guys, who shoved at him playfully before getting up to let Gale out too. Gale moved slowly, with the caution of someone who was doing his best not to appear drunk, but if someone knew him well enough, the abundance of joy in his expression was a dead giveaway. Buck Cleven wasn't prone to smiling at nothing or to moving his gaze back and forth between Bucky and the rest of the bar instead of keeping it fixed on one thing. Bucky pretended to be drunker than he was just to have an excuse to throw his arm around Gale. He started singing, and felt Gale's arm squeeze tight around his waist.

"Buck, you gotta do something before we all go deaf!" One of the guys called out to raucous laughter. Gale snickered again, clinging to Bucky a bit harder, then he started pushing Bucky towards the door.

"I'm coming back for that dice game, Bill!" Bucky pointed at them, and they all waved their arms at him to just leave already so that they could continue trying to woo the girls.

He and Gale made it outside in a few minutes.

They stumbled into a dark alley nearby, where Gale tugged at the lapels of Bucky's uniform until Bucky kissed him. His lips parted pliantly for Bucky's tongue, and he tasted so sweet that for a moment, Bucky thought he might get drunk on it too. It was a nice, languid kiss. Bucky could have pushed for more but he forced himself to pull back, because he had a feeling that a back-alley romp wasn't what Gale was actually being so needy for, and he could tell that he was right when the first thing Gale did when they parted was to drop his head to Bucky's shoulder.

When Bucky slid his hands up Gale's arms to his back to hug him, he wrapped his own arms around Bucky's waist. He sighed as the embrace closed around him.

They stayed like that for so long that Bucky thought Gale might have fallen asleep standing. But as he tried to pull away, the arms around him tightened.

Bucky breathed in deep. "You wanna sleep in my room tonight?" And this time, that was all he meant, sleep. He could sneak Gale into his hotel room, and they could cuddle as much as Gale needed.

Gale took a deep breath too and straightened up. He let Bucky go to rub at his own face. "Sorry about that." He cleared his throat. A frown formed between his eyebrows. It seemed that he was sobering up. "No, I'll be all right. You go back. It’s your birthday after all. I think I will - go find a ride back to base."

"I'm not going back without you."

Gale looked at him. Even in the dim light, Bucky could tell that his eyes weren't quite clear yet, but some of the haze was gone. "I need a few more minutes."

Bucky leaned back against the wall and lit a cigarette. With his free hand, he reached out to hold Gale's. He was pleased when Gale didn't pull away. "I can wait."

Gale watched him wordlessly with that tipsy little smile on his face until Bucky finished his cigarette. When the last of it burnt down, Bucky threw the stub away and stepped into Gale's space again. He gave him a chaste kiss.

Gale bumped his forehead to his, then moved away. "I'm not drinking another one."

Bucky laughed and pushed him towards the main street. "Why not?"

#mota #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #my writing #ummm this became a whole thing #i think i should create a drabble collection on ao3 #drunk!gale

[thecuriousquest]

U2 & Bakugo?

You dropped this: 👑

-🧼

Leaving Isn’t Easy

Thanks, Soap Anon! You’re too much of a cutie pie. Love you tons, and thanks for the awesome prompt request!!! Bakugou is one of my favorite characters to write for! 🖤🤘

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @palesweetscherryblossom @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW (abuse), violence, hitting, face slapping, kicking, hair pulling, physical threats, knife threats, Katsuki is a sad boi, kidnapping, choking

Request: “The only way out of this house is death.”

Yandere Alphabet Prompt

Master List

—————————————————————————

You’re fighting for your life, clawing at the arms of the hulking pro hero above you. Katsuki Bakugou chokes you with scarred and heavy hands, making you feel as though he’s about to crush your neck and kill you at the same time. Your legs go from thrashing and kicking wildly to twitching as your soul slowly slips from your body.

Just as the last of your life clings to you as if trying to hold on for just a little bit longer, he decides to let go. Bakugou gets up, kicking you so hard in the uterus you think you might be infertile now. He’d be doing you a favor, but still, it hurts so badly that you can’t help but vomit.

Gasping for air that you feel will never come to you, finally, you manage to suck in a deep breath. Wiping the bile from your lip, you look up at him with rivers in your eyes. Drops of rain cling to your lashes, rolling down your cheeks in despair.

Pointing an accusatory finger at you, he snarls in your face, “Don’t you fuckin’ look at me like that when you were the one who tried to leave! If I hadn’t caught you, who the fuck knows what could’ve happened to you, dumb bitch!”

“Bakugou…” you whisper with slight resistance in your voice as an arm clings to your hurting lower stomach. “It’s not too late to let me go home. I won’t tell anyone. We can act like this never happened.” You can’t help the cough slithering up your throat like a dry snake with rough scales.

His palm cracks down on your cheek, his other grabbing you by your hair, forcing you to look into dark rubies hidden by ash blonde hair.

“It’s Katsuki! This is the last time I’ll say it: This is your home now. Get that through your fucking head because the next time I have to say it, I’ll make you carve the words into your own arm with a dull knife.”

“Okay! Katsuki, I’m sorry!” You throw your hands up, a pleading gesture for mercy. You’re apologizing even though you did nothing wrong.

The sting in your cheek and your hair has you begging him for relief, screaming for him to let you go. He shoves you back, sending your head mere inches from banging against the hardwood floor. You stop yourself from hitting your skull in time, sending your arms out to catch yourself.

You watch, wearily, as he slides down the wall, letting his hands catch his head as he rakes fingers through his spiky hair.

“I don’t want to have to keep repeating myself. I love you. ‘M not letting you go, dumbass.” He grabs you by your ankle, reeling you in towards him.

It surprises you, and you grunt in pain as he collects you in his strong arms. He sits with his legs crossed, and he places you in his lap like a child holding a puppy.

If he’s trying to comfort you, it’s not working. You’re tired of crying. You no longer want to break out into tears because of this man, but he kicked you, slapped you, kidnapped you, and threatened you. This isn’t even the first time he has assaulted you. You feel like you should have built up some kind of immunity to his cruel treatment by now, but you react the same way every time. You’re scared of him, and it shows.

His voice grows rougher, deeper, sadder as he leans into your hair, placing his chin on your head. “I won’t lose you. I…can’t lose you. You’re mine, and you’re not going anywhere. You hear me? The only way out of this house is through death.”

#triggering content #triggering themes #yandere themes #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #mha katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugou #yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki x reader

[unclewaynemunson]

Heavy rain is pouring down and Eddie is drenched within seconds after he gets out of the car. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and takes his guitar case in his hand, then watches the car drive away before he can even thank the man who gave him a ride. It gets swallowed by the gray curtains of rain and fog almost right away.

He shivers and starts to walk, already sopping in his shoes. After only a couple of steps, he stops to fumble around in his pockets and puts a cigarette between his lips, but the rain has it soaked right away and makes it impossible to light the thing. With a frustrated groan, he throws the useless cigarette in the wilting greenery next to the road and starts walking again, trying to ignore the cars driving by and splashing gusts of water over his jeans. The one positive thing is that the cold rainwater softens the pain on his face, even though it can't make his throbbing headache disappear.

It takes him about forty minutes until he reaches the trailer park. The door to his uncle's trailer is locked and Wayne's car is nowhere to be seen, so Eddie drops his stuff on the porch and goes to sit down with his back against the wall, trying to keep himself shielded from the rain. He's cold right to his bones; he pulls his legs up in front of him and wraps his arms around them.

With trembling white fingers, he produces the pack of cigarettes from his pocket again. This time he miraculously manages to get one lit and he takes a long and grateful inhale.

He loses all sense of time while he's sitting there, smoking cigarette after cigarette while staring at the never-ending rain in front of him: the muddy puddles keep growing bigger and bigger and every now and then some of his uncle's neighbors come running from their cars to their homes or the other way. None of them pay attention to the boy with the bruised face on the Munson doorstep.

The sun is already setting when he finally sees the old truck that he recognizes as uncle Wayne's driving towards the trailer. His uncle steps out; he doesn't say anything when he spots Eddie sitting on his doorstep, but quickly walks through the puddles towards his home. He stops right in front of his nephew to take in his damaged face with a piercing gaze.

He doesn't ask Eddie what he's doing at the trailer park or how long he has been sitting there. Instead, he wordlessly opens the door and gestures for him to get up.

Eddie obeys, even though it feels like every frozen and beaten bone in his body is protesting against the movement.

'Who did this to you?' uncle Wayne asks when Eddie is standing upright.

For all the hours he has been sitting on this porch thinking about everything that happened to get him here, not once has Eddie pondered the question what he should say to his uncle. He finds himself frozen, searching for words to explain what happened but coming up empty in the moment.

'Was it your dad?' Wayne prompts.

Eddie nods.

A particularly creative string of swear words falls from Wayne's lips and Eddie looks at him in surprise; he's never seen his uncle get mad before. Always calm, always soft-spoken, so completely different from Eddie's father.

'I'm never going back,' Eddie tells him.

'Come inside, you're staying with me,' Wayne says immediately.

'I don't know if I can.' Eddie's voice has been changing lately, dropping lower, matching the soft dark hair that has started growing above his lips; but right now, he somehow completely sounds like a little boy again. He kind of hates it.

Wayne stays silent, asking him to explain himself merely by raising his eyebrows at him.

'I'm gay.' He swallows; it's the first time he says the words out loud. 'And there's no point in running from my dad if it's gonna be the same here with you.' He lifts his chin up, deciding that he refuses to be the victim or the poor little boy that needs pity, and meets his uncle's eyes without looking away. 'In that case I'd rather go to Indy and sleep on the streets,' he adds in a much stronger voice.

But Wayne only shakes his head, slowly, and takes a step closer to Eddie. He just as slowly raises his hands and wraps them around Eddie's damaged cheeks. His hands are big, but his touch is gentle despite the harsh callouses on his palms and fingers. Then, he pulls his nephew closer towards him and envelopes him in the warmth of his arms.

Eddie can't remember if he has even been hugged by uncle Wayne before. His head rests in the crook of Wayne's neck and he can smell the scent of his heavy cigarettes mingled with sweat from a hard day's work. Wayne's arms are warm around Eddie's frozen body and the fabric of his plaid jacket is soft against the soreness in the spot where sharp metal collided with his cheek hours ago.

After a long moment, Wayne lets go and grabs Eddie's threadbare backpack.

'You're staying here,' he repeats while he carries Eddie's stuff into the trailer, his voice not allowing for any contradiction. And that's all he really needs to say.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #eddie munson #wayne munson #tw child abuse #tw homophobia #stranger things #wayne munson my beloved #fruity ficlet

[kitkatscabinet]

Whumptober - 03 Withdrawals

Simon Riley x gn! reader

Warnings: mentions of substance abuse, opiate withdrawals, vomit

Simon was concerned, he'd been concerned since the bullet tore through the meat of your thigh. He’d been the one to pull you to cover, it had been his hands staunching the blood flow and it had been him you’d leaned on during physical therapy.

Even when the medics had prescribed opiates for the pain. He’d swallowed his discomfort attempting to keep a close watch over you and your usage. You’d seemed fine, seemingly as off-put as him by having to rely on such addictive substances in order to stave off the pain. 

You’d seemed fine. 

Your recovery was going well, the doctors, physical therapists and psychologist had all seemed optimistic that you’d be field-ready in near record time. 

You’d seemed fine. 

How had he failed to notice? He’d seen it before in his father, in Tommy. In hindsight, all the signs had been there. You’d tired more easily, were calmer - lethargic even and your attention span was even shorter than usual. You’d waved it off as the effects of vigorously throwing yourself in training, wanting to get back to your peak physical form. 

Simon had ignored the signs, desperately not wanting to admit that another one of his loved ones had succumbed to the addictive effects of prescription drugs. He’d ignored the signs until it was too late, until he’d found you slumped over in a hallway shivering and covered in sweat. You don’t even notice his presence, not even when he hauls you into his arms and starts running down the hallway all the while trying to shake you back into consciousness. 

It’s not until he deposits you under the cold spray of a shower that you start to stir, moaning in confusion as you attempt to orient yourself. You try to move but Simon has you locked against his chest, his arms the only thing keeping you from collapsing onto the tiles. 

“Wha?” you slur, blinking lethargically as you struggle to keep your eyes open. Vaguely you recognise the voice of the person holding you, but you struggle to make out any of his words. Your head is so heavy, chin resting against your chest, giving you a close-up view of a familiar tattooed arm. “Simon?” 

The man grunts his affirmation, one hand moving to sweep the hair from your face. You don’t get to appreciate the gesture for very long before you’re slumping to the side as far as you can within the confines of his arms and emptying the limited contents of your stomach. It burns your oesophagus, choking you as you attempt to breathe through the bile. Tears spill from your eyes from the pain and embarrassment. 

Simon doesn’t comment on it though, simply continuing to hold you up and whisper words of encouragement. You’re uncertain as to how long you stay under the cold spray but at some point, you close your eyes only to wake up in another room, a towel around your shoulders as Simon attempts to dry you off. 

“You need to get out of these clothes love, can you do that?” Giving it a few seconds of thought you nod, waiting for Simon to reluctantly turn around. It’s a struggle but you manage to wriggle out of your wet shirt and dry your torso enough to slip on the shirt Simon had laid out next to you. It’s a long and tiring process and more than once you’d had to reassure Simon you were still ok. 

Though you were quickly forced to admit that you needed help, all of your muscles shaking uncontrollably. “Si, I need help” you quietly admitted. Turning your head to the side in shame, closing your eyes so wouldn’t see his disappointment. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Simon is infinitely respectful, averting his eyes to maintain as much of your modesty as possible. 

His touch is gentle, though every slight brush of fingers on your skin burned. He continues to act in silence, bundling you up in what you now recognise as his blanket. It’s enough that the dam finally breaks and you start sobbing earnestly, chest heaving for air as you lay shivering in his bed. 

“‘M sorry.” You moan unable to articulate your shame in any other way as you continue to apologise over and over. Simon doesn’t offer a verbal reply but he does take a place by your side, smoothing his hand through your wet hair. 

Time becomes meaningless after that and all you know is misery. Your body fluctuates rapidly between hot and cold flushes that have you attempting to escape from the cocoon Simon has you trapped in. Yet the hulking abomination won’t let you move, even as you snap and scream at him. He’s not even phased by the intense nausea, placing a bucket beneath you just in time as your traitorous stomach continues to expel bile even when your stomach is beyond emptied. 

He wipes your sweat and hydrates you, taking your hurled abuse stoically, never once blaming you. He maintains his silent vigil, sacrificing his own sleep to watch over your own incredibly broken slumber. Much to your own horror he even escorts you to the bathroom, never more than a few feet away. It’s a new level of mortifying, the entire experience frays your nerves down to nothing. Yet no matter what you throw at him, Simon stays. 

“Why are you helping me? You should’ve handed me off to the med bay. ‘Ts not your job to clean up my fuck ups” you whisper. The question comes a few days into the torture, you’ve regained some clarity but the hellish symptoms showed no sign of improving. A few minutes ago you’re pretty sure you’d even called him ‘fuckin cunt’ when he’d refused to give you any sort of medication. He pauses in his movement of using a wet cloth to wipe the sweat from your forehead, barely taking any time to think of a response. 

“Do I need a reason?” There’s a heaviness to his words that you don’t quite understand and he doesn’t elaborate. How could he explain to you, the sheer terror that had grasped his heart when he’d found you slumped over? The self-loathing he’d been battling since he’d come to terms with your affliction? 

“No… but I’d like one. I’m pretty sure I vomited on you a few times and you didn’t even complain. I’d have decked you for that.” It’s an attempt at a joke but it evidently doesn’t land, his hand stilling in its path as he seemed to have some kind of internal debate. 

“I care about you, that’s reason enough.” He offers no further elaboration and you sense that you’d already pushed far enough for the moment. 

“Well now I just feel like an arsehole” you mumbled, trying to lighten the mood. Luckily your remark gets a light chuckle from your brooding companion as silence descends once more. A wave of exhaustion suddenly hits you and for once you don’t fight its pull, though you vow the next time you wake to grill Simon even further. Before you fall asleep once more you manage to mutter, “I care enough about you that I’d let you vomit on me too.” 

The last thing you hear before the darkness overtakes you is a laugh, the first genuine laugh you’d heard from him in days. It’s a small victory but you take it, allowing yourself to finally feel just a little bit of hope.      

#x reader #cod mw x reader #cod simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost #whumptober #tw withdrawal #tw substance abuse

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

cold nights / eddie munson

one shot

cw: uh i don’t think anything it’s tame and cute

oh look, your idiot neighbor locked himself outside of his house during a thunderstorm.

—

you’d lived next door to eddie munson for a couple years now. you didn’t interact much with him since you preferred keeping to yourself as much as possible. high school was brutal, so you felt as though acting as if you were invisible would make it more tolerable.

not many people paid attention to you, but you paid attention to everyone. you’d like to say you only focused on eddie because he was a familiar face who just so happened to be ridiculously outgoing. however, that wasn’t the case. you paid attention to eddie munson because you found him attractive and through your limited interactions you’ve developed quite the crush on him.

it was early november when it happened. there was a raging storm going on outside. ice cold rain was whipped into your windows by the wind and the cracks of thunder were enough to shake your trailer. you were home alone at the time, tucked in your bed reading a book while waiting for it to pass. it was pretty late on that saturday night, but the headlights that shown through your window didn’t surprise you.

eddie got home late a lot, his headlights sometimes waking you up at two in the morning on a school night. that was probably a contribution to him missing so much school. you couldn’t help yourself from getting up to see him. was it slightly creepy that you could see into his living room from your window? yes, definitely. but somehow it comforted you knowing he got home safely.

you watched as he ran from his van, trying to get inside quickly to avoid the rain. the way his hair flew back made you laugh lightly to yourself. but instead of making it inside, he stood messing with the handle and trying to shoulder the door open. it wasn’t working. he was most definitely screaming a string of profanities right now, and you felt kind of bad. when he finally gave up on the door, he started trying the window, but that was no help either. he stomped down the stairs to his trailer, kicking over his empty trash can before going back to his van.

but tragically, he’d managed to lock himself out of that too. you watched as he kicked his tire before resting his head on his van in annoyance. you felt bad, it was freezing outside and he obviously didn’t have shelter and who knew when his uncle would make it back. you pushed yourself up from your window and quickly ran out your room and into your kitchen, grabbing your front door and throwing it open.

you were right, it was freezing outside and the rain felt painful as drops hit you. eddie was still leaning against his van, head in his hands. a huge crack of thunder happened, almost deafening you before lightning lit up the sky. the rain was so loud, but eddie wasn’t too far from your house. “munson!” you yelled out your door as loud as you could. eddie’s head picked up, looking around for where the voice had come from. another strike of lightning light up the sky just as his eyes found you.

a flash of light illuminating his guardian angel in her smurf pajama pants. he watched as you waved to him, motioning for him to come in your house. he debated it a moment, but the slight shiver that ran through him told him he needed to take your offer.

he jogged the few yards to your trailer and up your stairs, entering your trailer as you stepped aside for him. you close the door behind him, flipping on the light. the sight in front of you is one you’ll never forget. eddie is looking at you, with widened eyes and reddened cheeks. his hair was plastered to his face and all of his clothes were dripping. “hey y/n,” he said shyly.

you purse your lips before grabbing his arm and pulling him with you. he follows you, too confused to even ask. you push open the door for the bathroom and gesture for him to go in. “i’m gonna go find you some dry clothes, there’s towels under the sink,” you say and watch him reluctantly step into your bathroom. you disappear and eddie takes a moment to process.

he was standing, soaking wet, in his crushes bathroom right now. oh god he was soaked, he was probably making such a mess everywhere. he began taking off his vest and jacket, hanging it over your shower before peeling his shirt off his chest. “gross,” he mumbles to himself, ringing it out over your bathtub.

“hey, i found you some… woah,” you say, trailing off as you see the broad expanse of his back, tattoos littering the muscular canvas. you never expected eddie munson to be toned. he turned to you, your eyes focused on his pale torso that glistened with the rain water. you scanned up his chest, eyes lingering on his tattoos until they found his face, a small smirk on his lips. you shook your head, blinking hard and taking a step towards him. why didn’t he just close the door before starting to change? “these were my dad’s, i think they might be a bit big but, at least they’re dry,” you say, refusing to meet his eyes again as you hold out the clothes to him.

“thanks,” he starts, taking them from you. “and should i hang my clothes in here or?” he asks, turning to look at what he’d already put up.

you nod, looking at his haphazard way of hanging them up. “yeah, that’s fine, when you’re done come find me in the kitchen,” you say, wanting to not look back in his eyes. you see him nod out of your peripheral, so you back up, shutting the door once you’re out.

“oh my god,” you whisper to yourself in disbelief, holding your hands to your temples as you walk to the kitchen. “pull yourself together, y/n,” you huff under your breath before turning on your stove to make hot chocolate.

eddie eventually gets all his clothes off and dries himself off with one of your towels as he tries to process the situation. what the hell was happening right now? he grabbed the plaid pajama pants you’d brought for him, the cold making him start to shiver, and pulled them up before using the drawstring to tie them to where they wouldn’t fall off. he then grabbed the green long sleeve and pulled it over his still wet hair and down his body. it was probably a size too big on him and wasn’t exactly the warmest thing but it would do. after finally pulling on the socks you’d given him, he slowly opened the door.

he stepped out, looking around to take a moment and absorb your trailer. it was 100x cleaner than his, and honestly seemed quite homey. the only lights on in the house were the bathroom one, which he switched off, the one you had turned on in the kitchen and a small lamp in your bedroom. eddie slowly walked towards the kitchen, peaking around the corner to see you pouring hot chocolate mix into a mug as a kettle sat on the stove in front of you.

you looked up at him as he stepped into view and gave him a small smile. he swears, despite his skin feeling like ice, that his heart fluttered with warmth when he saw your face. “i'm making you some hot chocolate, you still really cold?” you ask, your motherly instinct kicking in.

“i- uh, yeah kind of,” he says, crossing his arms. you take a step over, leaning across the counter to feel his forehead with the back of your hand. you frown when he’s ice cold to the touch, moving your hand to his cheeks as well. his face flushes, but thankfully it was already red from the cold so you couldn’t tell.

you walk over to your living room quickly, grabbing a blanket from off the couch and back over to him. “here,” you mumble, standing on your tiptoes to drape it over his shoulders. eddie takes it, pulling it tightly around himself and watching you with awe as the kettle goes off. “you can sit,” you say softly, grabbing the kettle and pouring the hot water into the mug.

eddie obliges, taking a seat at your dining room table. he studied you closely as you bring the mug to him and sit across from him. “thank you, for letting me in,” he says quietly, wrapping his hands around the warm mug.

you wave your hand in dismissal. “i wasn’t just going to let you freeze out there,” you say softly, crossing your leg under you. eddie takes a small, careful sip of the hot chocolate and lets out a sigh of content as the warmth spreads down his throat. “so… you locked yourself out?” you ask, tapping your fingers on the top of your table.

eddie nods, taking another drink. “it always seems to happen at the worst times,” he says. you nod, not knowing what to respond with. eddie bites his lip, wanting to get rid of this blanket of awkwardness that was beginning to settle over you two. “i never saw you as a night owl type of person,” he says.

you shrug, looking at your fingernails to avoid looking at him. “i was reading,” you mumble.

“oh? what book?” he asks, his interest piqued. he didn’t know you liked to read. well… as he thought about it he realized he didn’t know anything you liked to do.

you flashed your gaze up to him before looking back down. “the house of spirits,” you respond lowly.

“huh, i don’t think i’ve read that. is it good?” he pushes, not wanting this conversation to die.

you raise your eyebrow slightly at him. “you read?” you question.

eddie gasps, grabbing at his heart in mock offense. “do i read? i’m almost offended at that sweetheart, i play d&d you know? i love me some good fantasy,” he says, causing you to giggle. a smile spreads across his face at the sound, his heart skips a beat.

“guess i never thought to put those together,” you say shyly, your eyes cast down as you replay him calling you sweetheart over and over in your mind.

eddie takes another sip of his hot chocolate before continuing. “no? just assumed i was some freak who hated everything academic?” he quizzed.

“no, i just don’t think i can picture you sitting down and reading a book,” you defend yourself.

eddie smirks. “so what do you picture me doing then, if i’m not a reader?” he asks.

“uh,” you start, biting on your lower lip. you’ve pictured eddie doing a lot of things, but you didn’t necessarily want to tell him you’ve imagined how his hugs feel. “honestly? just playing d&d and smoking…” you say.

eddie shrugs, “i mean yes, i do that too.”

“what do you think i do?” you ask, your gaze lingering on his fingers.

eddie looks you up and down a moment, taking in your relaxed state. “to be completely honest, i don’t know. you’re a very mysterious girl, y/n,” he says truthfully.

“good,” you laugh lightly, propping your head up with your arm as you finally gather the courage to look at his face. shit, he was attractive.

eddie smirked at you before taking a bigger drink of his hot chocolate. “i’ve learned a few things though in these last few minutes, wanna know them?” he asked. you hummed in agreement, slightly nodding your head. “i learned that,” he started, setting down his mug and removing his hands from it. “you’re very sweet, and very very cute,” he said, reaching up to bop you in the nose.

you look down as heat rushes up your neck and face, a smile stretching across your face. “thanks,” you mumble, refusing to look back up.

“see? so cute, i could just eat you up,” eddie teases causing you to laugh quietly. “what? you’re not gonna say it back? damn, y/n,” he jokes, shaking his head side to side.

“no! you’re cute, so cute,” you say with a giggle, watching the way his face lights up.

“thank you, sweetheart, but i don’t know if i believe you,” he says, continuing to tease you.

you shake your head with a smile. “i’m being honest!” you say happily.

“mhm, that’s what all the pretty girls say,” he says with raised eyebrows before grabbing his mug to take another drink.

just then, a particularly bright flash of lightning hits and your power flickers before going out. “shit,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself. your attitude drops, and eddie picks up on it.

“you okay?” he asks, squinting to see you in the dark.

you nod, “not a big fan of the dark.” eddie smiles at your confession.

“that’s adorable,” he says without thinking.

with a roll of your eyes a small smile comes back to your lips. “shut up,” you say quietly, dragging it out. it’s quiet for a moment before eddie pushes his seat back, standing up. “what’re you doing?” you question.

eddie shuffles towards the side of the table you’re on and stops. “stand up,” he says, and of course you do just that. he opens his arms that still had the blanket in his hands and takes a step towards you. he closes his arms, wrapping the both of you in the blanket and bringing you to his chest. “there, now you don’t have to be scared of the dark, and you can help warm me up,” he says quietly, his nerves kicking in slightly.

you know your face is on fire, so you thank whatever is up there that he can’t see that. but, despite your nervousness you relax into his touch, wrapping your arms around him as well and tucking your face into his chest. the both of you stand there for longer than you’d thought you would, stupid smiles on your faces as you shared your first moment together.

even though you didn’t know it, there would be many more to come.

#stranger things eddie #eddie munson stranger things #eddie #eddie munson #munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things imagine