#Now he’s hoping his husband gets lost on the way
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Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag
↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader
⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend's Husband
⤜ Rating: MA 🔞
⤜ WC: 18,286
⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, talk of surrogacy, at-home medical procedure, genital touching (non-sexual), planned pregnancy, talk of pregnancy termination/abortion, BIG hurt feelings, open palm slapping, accusations of infidelity, rejected/unwanted drunken kissing that could be viewed as dubious infidelity
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon)
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Jungkook
Jungkook never thought he’d be haunted by such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. A tiny pastel pink line. Singular. Just like all the ones before it. He’s lost count of exactly how many, but it’s been years; every month, the same outcome. A singular pink line telling him he’s failed. He knows that’s a bit harsh, but it’s how he’s starting to feel—like a complete and utter failure.
“We’ll try again next month,” Jiyoon offers, dropping the offending piece of plastic in the bathroom trash before giving Jungkook a tight smile.
“Have you given any more thought to trying IVF again?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, knowing that’s a sore subject. But, dammit, he’s not in the proper headspace right now to think better of it.
Jiyoon glares at him, her pouty pink lips drawing taut. “I told you not to ask me that ever again. Now, get out. I’d like to take a shower.” When Jungkook doesn’t immediately move from his perch on the bathroom counter, she tags on a frustrated, “Please.”
Jungkook hops down, his socked feet swishing over the tiled floor as he retreats into the master bedroom. The door forcefully shuts right on his heels, echoing the hollow ache in the center of his chest. He promised himself that if it didn’t happen this time, he’d just try harder next time.
Yet, there is only so much he can do. Pushing any harder might widen the rift slowly forming between him and his wife. Already, Jiyoon spends more time at work than with him. Her glares of irritation any time he seeks intimacy outside of their strict ovulation schedule are like holes being punched into his resolve.
After nearly two years of trying, he sought medical answers a year ago. Jiyoon was quite cross with him when she found out he went to the doctor, but he needed to know if it was his fault they were having trouble conceiving. The numbers were standard, slightly higher than average even. The utter devastation on Jiyoon’s face, he’ll never be able to forget that day. Because if he isn’t the problem…then that means she is.
It’s his fault. He wasn’t even thinking about that potential. Jiyoon hasn’t been the same since. That’s when the schedule came into play. That’s when she started to pour far more energy into waiting for the perfect moment instead of just enjoying their time together.
Jungkook can see the disappointment, the guilt that eats away at her each time that single pink line reveals itself. He wishes more than anything there was a way to change it, something more he could do. Yet, she refuses to consider the option of IVF, not after the horror story she heard from her friend Dani. She refuses to even talk about it.
There has to be another way; he’s just not sure what it might be. Jungkook is at a loss, and it feels like the weight of the world is sitting heavy right between his shoulders. The shower kicks on in the bathroom, and Jungkook decides to busy himself by making Jiyoon a cup of tea for when she gets out. He knows she’ll want to spend some time relaxing before bed, and tea always helps.
💔💔💔
Not a day goes by that you don’t think about your best friend, Jiyoon, and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her and her husband. It’s not a secret amongst your peers that they’ve been trying to start a family with no luck for several years. It breaks your heart every time she gives you a shake of her head when you look at her with hopeful eyes.
Today isn’t any different. You’re sitting at your desk, absently clicking through the latest portfolio files you got from Namjoon, when Jiyoon walks by your desk, heading toward hers. She’s half an hour late this morning, something that’s pretty routine every few weeks. It’s like clockwork. You’re aware of the ovulation schedule that she and Jungkook keep and know that she allows herself extra time the morning after taking a test to steel herself against the disappointment that will come from the pitying stares in the office.
You catch her eye as she settles into her desk chair, and she gives you that subtle shake of her head. There is tension in her shoulders, and her bottom lip looks like she’s been chewing on it in irritation, but she turns around and gives you her back before you can think to question her about it.
“Morning, Jiyoon,” Namjoon says as he steps out of his office. Namjoon is also well aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jiyoon and Jungkook. It’s why he doesn’t hassle her about being late, something you’re endlessly grateful for.
Jiyoon is your only friend, and you are very protective of her. Well, that’s not entirely true. The protective part is, but she’s not technically your only friend. She’s just the longest friend you’ve had and the one you hold closest to your heart—your best friend. Though, even still, everyone else are really just people you know through Jiyoon or from work. Maybe that’s sad, but you don’t mind it.
“Jiyoon!” Dani squeals from the other side of the office. The bubbly, energetic woman flits across the room, looking every inch like a fairy with her blond pixie cut, petite stature, and buttoned nose.
“Oh gosh, hey. Come here!” Jiyoon swings her chair toward Dani as she beckons her forward, letting you catch a glimpse of her profile. There is a smile on her face, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s strained or not. Jiyoon has always been beautiful, with not a single wrinkle or blemish in sight. Looking at her body language, it’s even harder to tell.
Giggles punctuate their whispered words as Dani crouches beside Jiyoon’s chair, their heads pressed close together. You watch as Dani slips something into Jiyoon’s hand before she stands and waggles her brows down at your friend.
“Have fun,” Dani sing-songs as she prances away from Jiyoon’s desk. Her gunmetal eyes meet yours, and her face sours before she disappears beyond your cubicle.
“What’s that?” you ask a beat after she’s gone and before you can curb your curiosity, tinged with mild jealousy. Dani has made it clear before that she doesn’t like you very much, only tolerating you for Jiyoon’s sake. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t find yourself included when it comes to anything involving Dani—it’s something you’ve chalked up to her own jealousy, perhaps at the fact you’ve been Jiyoon’s friend for so long.
Jiyoon flicks her eyes in your direction before stuffing whatever Dani gave her into her purse. “Just some antacids,” she says, giving you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
All suspicions disappear as you take in the controlled curve of her lips. She looks miserable. “Oh,” is all you can manage before Namjoon calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room.
“Good morning, everyone. Let’s start this week off on the right foot. We have reports to file and new contracts to negotiate…”
You and Jiyoon have always aspired to work for a marketing and media agency together. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you both were elated to land jobs with Kim Exclusives, one of the most popular management companies for up-and-coming artists, models, and influencers.
That was seven years ago, and your time here has only solidified your friendship with Jiyoon. She met her husband, Jungkook, through the agency. He was one of the first models signed to Kim Exclusives, and you and Jiyoon both handled his portfolio and schedule for a year before she had to give you sole leadership over it once they became intimately involved—the whole conflict of interests thing.
“Are we still meeting tonight?” you ask Jiyoon as the day draws to a close. She’s still diligently working away at her computer, and you stand outside her cubicle with your bag on your shoulder.
“Hmm? Oh. Umm, yeah, I guess. I might be a bit late, though.”
You peek over her shoulder. “Is that the new Song profile?”
“Yep,” she pops the end of the word, keying you into thinking she's not in the mood to chat right now.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you guys later then.”
Jiyoon makes a noncommittal sound, already focused back on her work. You miss the days when she would give you more than a few passing words. Even on her good days, it seems like she’s growing further and further away from you. It’s hard not to feel guilty over the bitter and lonely feelings you get when you think about it. It’s not Jiyoon’s fault that you don’t have more close friends to turn to. But sometimes you wish you meant as much to her as she does to you.
As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you mentally kick yourself. It’s not fair for you to think that. You know Jiyoon cares for you; she’s just had a rough few years, and you shouldn’t be making it about yourself.
Feeling truly like a shit friend, you continue to chastise yourself over the next two hours as you commute home and get ready for tonight. Five minutes away from the pub, you consider calling Jiyoon and canceling. But, just as you pull out your phone to do that, someone calls your name from down the sidewalk.
You turn to see Taehyung and Jungkook waving at you from across the street. Well, there goes your intention to cancel.
“Hey! Have you heard from Jiyoon?” Jungkook asks as he and Taehyung jog across the street.
You press your lips into a thin line, confused. “Did she not come home?”
“Ah, no. She said she was working late and that I should just go ahead and meet up with you and Taehyung. She’s, uh, well, she’s not answering my calls. We—this morning…sorry, just, have you talked to her?”
Doing your best to keep your eyes on his, you give him an honest answer, “She was still working when I left the office. I haven’t heard from her since.” Losing the battle against your will, your eyes sweep over your best friend’s husband. He’s just as gorgeous as he always has been. His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, licking at the collar of his denim jacket. As the lead on his contract, you know he recently landed a massive campaign with a new clothing company, their emblem stitched onto the breast of the coat. Jungkook looks every inch the model he is; his friend no less so.
“Hey! Happy Birthday!” Taehyung greets you as your eyes swing to him.
Warm embarrassment kisses your cheeks. You hate your birthday; you hate being the center of attention. “Thanks,” you murmur, giving him a tight smile.
“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jungkook tacks on. He rubs the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic look. “Should we go ahead and go inside?”
“Yeah, sure.” As Taehyung leads the way inside, you type out a quick text to Jiyoon asking how long she’ll be.
Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in a mildly withdrawn personal bubble of silence as Jungkook and Taehyung chat about work and sip on fingers of liquor. You’re normally not so silent with them, as they have been clients of yours for years but you’ve also grown to think of them as friends. It’s just you have a lot on your plate right now, Namjoon just added three new clients to your work portfolio, putting you at juggling almost a dozen. You don’t mind the added workload, it helps keep you busy, but it does mean you have to switch around your schedule a great deal and have less time to spend with Jungkook and Taehyung who are two of the longest portfolios you’ve managed. They have a joint ad campaign coming up for the whiskey they’re sampling right now and are trying to decide if they actually like it or not.
Over the years, you've learned that advertisements are just that—a cleverly crafted piece of media to highlight a product. The models in a hamburger ad could very well be vegan, but they’re paid to make you believe otherwise. So, even if they decide they don’t like the whiskey, money will say they do.
Taehyung is a bit newer to Kim Exclusives, a model by complete accident. He came into the office once with Jungkook, just friends hanging out with each other, and the moment Namjoon saw him, he had to have him. A few weeks later, Taehyung was added to the roster of elite models under Kim Exclusives, booking just as well as any veteran.
“It’s a little too smokey for me, I think,” Taehyung comments. “What do you think?” he asks, setting his glass on the table and startling you out of your thoughts.
“What?” You blink up at him, totally lost.
“Give it a taste.” He taps the rim of the glass. “Tell me what you think,” he encourages, pushing the glass closer to where your hands are clasped together on the table.
You don’t really want to try the whiskey, but the expectant looks on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces make you pick up the glass and take a tentative sip. It burns across your tongue, coating your throat in a fiery, smokey blend of burnt spices. The flavor sits like ash in your mouth.
“It’s, uh…”
“Not great, right?” Jungkook gives you a lopsided grin, his shoulders stretching the seams of his jean jacket as he shrugs. “It’s okay to be honest about it.”
You slide the glass back across the tabletop toward Taehyung. “Yeah, it’s not great. It might be better on ice, but I’m not a big drinker, so I think it’s hard for me to judge it fairly.”
They both seem satisfied with this response and resume their conversation about the whiskey and the new campaign. You check your phone, wondering where Jiyoon could possibly be. There is no response to your text.
You’re picking at the frayed edge of the paper coaster that’s slowly growing waterlogged from the condensation dripping down your glass of ice water when Taehyung taps on the table in front of you, trying to capture your attention.
“Isn’t that right?” he asks.
“Sorry. Is what right?” You feel heat bloom in your cheeks at being caught not paying attention yet again.
“You’re healthy.”
That statement has confusion replacing your embarrassment. “Healthy?”
“Let me backtrack,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the back of Jungkook’s chair.
“Taehyung, really, this isn’t the time—”
“Ahem,” Taehyung interrupts Jungkook’s protest. “Hypothetically speaking, if your best friend and her husband were to inquire of you about the possibility of surrogacy, what would you say?”
The dots aren’t connecting for you, and his blunt question makes you feel like you missed something important. “Surrogacy?” You don’t mean to sound like a broken record, repeating what Taehyung is saying, but you’re thoroughly having a tough time understanding.
“Listen, you don’t have to answer that,” Jungkook states, shaking his head at Taehyung and giving him a pleading look that says to stop while he’s ahead.
“Are you and Jiyoon looking into a surrogate?” you ask; everything suddenly clicks into place, and the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.
Jungkook grips the back of his neck and grumbles something incoherent towards Taehyung before he blows out a heavy breath and his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. “Not exactly, no. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s just something I read about today. But, honestly, you don’t have to answer the question. Taehyung is just being a dick—”
“I’d do it.”
Your response leaves Jungkook with his mouth open and jaw slack as he stares at you in bewilderment.
“See, I told you. She’s perfect. Young, healthy, and someone you know and can trust,” Taehyung tots off, waving a finger in the air.
“Wait…are you serious?” Jungkook asks, pointedly ignoring Taehyung.
You’ve never considered being a mom before, at least not in that sense. It was always an assumption that it wouldn’t be in the cards for you—the whole lack of a love life thing being the crux of it. You’ve barely had a handful of boyfriends, much less a long-term commitment that would lead to a family. But, when it comes to Jiyoon, you’d do just about anything for her. So, if she asked you to carry a baby for her, you know, without a doubt, you’d do it.
“Y-yeah. Yes,” you state with more confidence. “I’d do that.”
Before Jungkook can respond, Jiyoon bustles in through the bar's front door, her lilting laughter drawing everyone’s attention. She has her phone pressed to her ear, and she’s smiling at whatever the person she’s speaking to is saying.
“Okay, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. See you then,” Jiyoon says before ending the call and pocketing her phone. “Oh, Taehyung is here.” It’s a bland statement, Jiyoon’s eyes flicking over Jungkook’s best friend before landing on her husband. “Did you order me a drink already?”
Jungkook clears his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. “Babe, hey. Um, no, I wasn’t sure when you’d get here. You weren’t responding to any of my calls or texts.”
Jiyoon slides into the empty seat beside you, across from Jungkook, and gives you a quick smile before wrinkling her nose in his direction. “I’ll take a glass of red.”
“Oh-kay,” Jungkook says slowly, a look of confusion ghosting over his features. “Where have you been?”
“Hmm? Oh, just busy with work,” Jiyoon says. “Wine, please, Jungkook.” His only response is a tight press of his lips before he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bar. Jiyoon clicks her tongue and angles herself to look at you. “You’re not drinking?” she asks, eyeing the glass of water on the table in front of you.
“Um, no. You know I don’t—”
“I know, you’re boring,” Jiyoon sighs. The only thing taking the sting out of her words is the smile she gives you. You know Jiyoon isn’t exactly what people would call a nice person; in fact, she’s often coined as a ‘mean girl.’ But she’s never been intentionally mean to you, not really. She just provides constructive criticism and encouragement to be the best version of yourself that you can be.
“Way to be a bitch to her on her birthday, Jiyoon,” Taehyung mumbles into his whiskey glass before tossing it back and downing the rest.
Jiyoon winces and then plasters a smile on her face before saying, “Right, happy birthday.”
“Yeah, thanks.” You make your best attempt at nonchalance, but you’re not sure it lands properly as Taehyung shakes his head, and Jiyoon sighs again.
“I forgot, okay? It’s been so busy at work and with—uh,” she pauses for just a second, and any other time you might not have noticed, but you can’t help but pick up on the way she rushes to continue, “the new client that you know Namjoon has been breathing down my neck over. The Harper portfolio, you know the one? And apparently, the Song profile needs to be redone on top of that.”
Jiyoon has been different lately. You’re aware that she took over one of the new higher-end clients, some big hot-shot movie star or something like that, but it’s almost made her seem like she thinks she’s above everyone else. It makes things tense sometimes like everyone is on edge when she comes around. You try to ignore it, for the sake of tonight. “It’s okay, Jiyoon, really.”
“Anyway, how are things going? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked about something other than work.”
Yeah, because every time you turn around Jiyoon is spending time with Dani or has a client meeting. You shrug. “Okay, I guess.”
Taehyung pipes up in the silence that follows, “We were actually just talking about surroga—”
“Red wine for my wife, another whiskey for Tae, the good stuff this time, and a pina colada for the birthday girl. Virgin, I made sure. I know you don’t like to drink alcohol,” Jungkook interrupts Taehyung, passing out the cluster of drinks in his hands.
You stare up at Jungkook, lips slightly parted as you try to think of the proper response, completely taken off guard by his gesture. Finally, you lamely offer, “Oh, uh, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”
“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve a little treat, and I know you like pineapple.” Jungkook settles back into his seat, and you try to keep your eyes off your best friend's husband. But it’s hard with how his hair falls into his face, and the denim hugs his shoulders as he relaxes against the back of his chair.
“Ew,” Jiyoon gags dramatically, startling your attention in her direction. “Is that a jacket from the shoot today?” She gestures at Jungkook, the distaste apparent on her face. “I know they didn’t dress you in that. What were they thinking?”
Jungkook frowns, staring down at the oversized light-wash jean jacket. “You don’t like it?” he asks.
Jiyoon scoffs, “It looks ridiculous, you look ridiculous. What the hell did you do to your hair? A mullet, really? It’s a wonder you’re a model. You were okay with this?” The last part is directed at you, because, as the lead on his profile, you’re the one who signed off on the hair and makeup for the shoot.
“Hey now,” Taehyung states loud enough to quiet the table; he’s clearly not having any of Jiyoon’s antics tonight, long work day or not. “Keep your petty bullshit opinions for when you’re at home. Tonight isn’t about you or how handsome my best friend is in his jean jacket and new hairstyle.” You can tell he intentionally calls Jungkook his best friend instead of Jiyoon’s husband as an extra jab.
“I never said he wasn’t handsome,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before looking at Jungkook and sighing. “Sorry, dear, I’m just under a lot of stress. You know I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flick to yours. “I know it’s not your fault.” You just give her a subtle shake of your head, not sure how to respond.
Clearing his throat, Jungkook smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and tries to move the conversation along. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on why we’re here tonight.” He swings his eyes toward you, his smile becoming genuine, and begins to loudly belt out Happy Birthday, much to your dismay. This draws the attention of everyone else in the bar and earns you a generous round of applause when the singing finally fades.
You try to enjoy the rest of your night, but every time Jungkook catches you staring at him, you can’t help but feel a small spike of guilt; guilt over the perhaps tiny, mostly insignificant, completely harmless crush you might, perhaps, maybe have on your best friend’s husband.
It’s hard not to be attracted to him; Jiyoon knows that—she flaunts that fact. She also knows her claws are deep in him, and he’s not going anywhere. Jungkook would pull down the moon for her and then ask if she wanted the sun, too. You swallow down the last of your pina colada, eyes once again locked on Jungkook as he throws his head back and laughs at something Taehyung said.
Jiyoon presses her arm against yours, leaning in close to you. In a soft voice meant only for you, she whispers, “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”
“Hm? Who?”
“Don’t play coy with me,” she giggles drunkenly. “I know you were staring at him. My husband.”
You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”
Jiyoon sighs wistfully. “It’s okay to stare, I don’t mind. I know what he looks like, after all. He’s so beautiful when he’s happy. I wish I could give him what he wants, he’d be the perfect father…I’m so scared to lose him.” The last part is whispered, so soft it’s hard to hear.
Instantly, your guilt turns into something else: resolve. You can’t bear the defeat you hear in her voice. It’s not something you can even begin to fathom—what she and Jungkook are going through. It’s no wonder she has caustic words at times. You meant what you said earlier, what you told Jungkook you were willing to do. With that in mind, you make a mental note to start researching and do what you can to make sure at least someone gets a happy ending here.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
The night of your birthday kept playing over and over again in Jungkook’s head the days that followed. Now, just as evening is rolling around, one week later, he can’t stop thinking about what you said, your confirmation. On top of that, that night was probably the most fun Jungkook has had in a long time—as long as he excludes the prickly start after Jiyoon arrived. He’s used to her snide and biting remarks after a long work day. Brushing them to the side and sweeping them away is usually easy.
But for some reason—perhaps it was the high he was riding after your confession and confirmation—it bothered him that she was doing it in front of Taehyung—in front of you. As if somehow her criticisms might make you both believe them. Not that he cares about being good-looking to Taehyung, or you for that matter, not really. It’s just that his first thought was what if that made you change your mind? Not necessarily whether or not he’s attractive, but the exchange as a whole. What if Jiyoon’s blatant criticisms made you want to change your mind because it somehow planted doubt in your mind that they’re a happy and healthy environment for a child?
“Jungkook.” The frustrated snap of his name brings him out of his thoughts. His eyes focus on the bathroom mirror once more, on Jiyoon, who is standing behind him with her hands on her hips, accentuating the flattering cut of the navy-colored dress she’s wearing. “Are you even listening to me?”
Turning and leaning back against the counter, Jungkook gives her his full attention. “Uh, yeah, sorry. You were talking about having dinner with a client tonight, and you’re leaving now to meet with Dani so you can get some files.”
“Yes,” she says, her lips twitching in mild surprise, and Jungkook knows she was expecting him not to have been paying attention. “I don’t know how long the dinner will last, so don’t wait up for me. It’s likely I’ll be home late.” She turns to go back into the bedroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure what possesses him, but he surges forward and gently snags her wrist, turning her back toward him. “Uh?” she makes a sound of mild questioning irritation.
“I have something I need—er, want—to talk to you about. It should only take a moment.”
She shakes his hold off her wrist and gives him a placating smile. “Okay, well, talk while I finish getting ready at least.” Not waiting to see if he follows, she disappears into the bedroom and heads to the closet, rummaging through her jewelry.
“Okay, um. Okay,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s under pressure for some reason. “So, the other night, it was brought up in conversation, and uh, she already agreed, and it’s just that, well, there’s this thing called intracervical insemination and…how do you feel about surrogacy?”
There is a heavy pause, dread threatening to make Jungkook backpedal and eat his words just to snatch them back out of the air. Jiyoon glances at him over her shoulder, but he can’t get a clear read on her eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, sure,” she says, turning back to her digging.
Jungkook can’t tell whether Jiyoon is the one paying attention to him now, so he probes further, just to be clear. “You mean that? You’re okay with going the surrogacy route? My sperm, her egg…your best friend carrying our baby?”
Jiyoon’s back is to Jungkook, but he watches how her shoulders slide up in a shrug. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m not sure, it’s just that with ICI—”
“Look, Jungkook,” Jiyoon says, turning to face him fully. Her fingers work at slipping a pair of silver hoops into her earlobes. “I trust you.” She says the words slowly, keeping her eyes intently locked on his. “I know you’ll do your best for us. Whatever you want, it’s what I want, too. You know that.”
“Well, um, do you have any questions? We should talk…discuss this, er, something. I know how you feel about IVF. I want to make sure this is an option you truly want, and you’re not just saying this to make me happy. You should take some more time to think about it.” The fact she’s so quick to agree makes Jungkook question whether or not he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.
Jiyoon cups one of his cheeks, gently thumbing over his bottom lip. “I don’t need time to think, because I’ve already thought about it. I—well, I was going to bring it up to you soon, but I wanted to do a bit more research first.”
“Wait, what? Really? You were thinking about ICI, too?” Jungkook swallows hard, leaning into his wife's warm touch.
“Yeah,” she whispers, her soft smile making her eyes twinkle and his heart melt.
Jungkook can’t help letting his eyes drink in his wife. They might have been going through rough patches the last few years, but that hasn’t lessened how he feels about her. Jungkook has always found her strikingly beautiful, with long legs and shiny hair that he loves to run his fingers through. But at this moment, he feels like he might burst with the love he has for her.
“Yeah? Okay. Okay,” he tries to suppress the emotion in his words. “Okay, perfect. I love you. I love you so much!”
Jiyoon laughs, and it sounds magical, as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. “Don’t smear my lipstick, please,” she mumbles, her voice light and playful.
“Go have a good dinner, secure the client, and don’t worry about anything else,” Jungkook bubbles happily, setting Jiyoon back on her feet. “I swear I’ll take care of it all. Everything will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”
An hour later, Jungkook walks up to your apartment door. He couldn’t stop himself earlier, so he immediately texted you and asked to see you as soon as Jiyoon left for Dani’s.
The door swings open before he can knock, revealing you standing there breathless and in a set of purple checkered pajamas. “Is everything okay?” you ask, worry lines creasing between your brows. “Your text sounded urgent.”
“Oh.” Jungkook feels terrible for making you concerned. He didn’t mean for it to come off like that. “No, I mean, yes, everything is okay. But, no, it’s not exactly urgent. Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
You lean against the doorframe, eyes wide on his. “What is it?”
“Er, uh, do you mind if I come in? This is more of a sit-down kind of conversation.”
The little ‘o’ your lips form is far cuter than Jungkook has a right to think it is. His mind instantly latches onto it, wondering if the baby would have your lips or his. “O-okay, sure, come on in.”
Jungkook has visited your apartment a handful of times over the years. It’s quaint and cozy, exactly what he’d imagine for you. There are books everywhere, shelves full of thick and thin volumes of literary prose. A few art pieces decorate the walls, along with dozens and dozens of black-and-white photos in simple frames. He stirs up the recollection that you enjoy photography in your spare time.
“Sorry, again, about my text. I didn’t mean to worry you, really.” Jungkook feels nervous, unsure where to stand or even sit, until you gesture toward the couch. A handful of well-loved decorative pillows are scattered across the burgundy suede. He settles at one end as you take the other, looking at him expectantly.
A beat or two passes, and Jungkook feels like he’s about to swallow his tongue until you open your mouth, clearly picking up on his distress. “Is it something with work? I can try to fix whatever it is first thing in the morning—”
“No, no,” Jungkook holds up a hand, shaking his head. “It’s not work. It’s um, it’s actually Jiyoon. Well, me and her, specifically.”
You pull your knees up and tuck your feet underneath yourself. “Oh, okay.”
“Were you serious about what you said the other night?” Jungkook blurts, figuring it’s best, like ripping off a bandaid.
Your bottom lip has an indent left from where you tucked it between your teeth before nodding. “Yes.” Jungkook didn’t necessarily expect you to say no, but the rush of relief he feels at hearing that encourages him to press on.
“I talked with Jiyoon about it today and she—we—would be honored if you’d do that for us. If you’d give us a chance at having a family. It’s…it’s something we both, deeply, deeply desire. If you’re truly serious about it, we’ll take care of everything, all medical expenses, bills, anything…just name it, it’s yours.”
“That’s—okay, okay, yes. Yes, I’ll do it. Just tell me what I need to do.”
Jungkook whoops loudly, jumping up from the couch, and drags you into his arms for a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t even begin to explain what this means to me, to us. This is…I can’t…oh my, I need to—wait, okay. Sorry, let me calm down for a second.” The word vomit is real, and Jungkook uses his hold on you to ground himself, moving his hands to your shoulders and locking his eyes on yours. “I think I might pass out,” he whispers a second before bursting into a giddy laugh.
“Whoa, um, sit down. Please don’t pass out on me. You’re too big for me to catch!” Your frantic words make him laugh even harder.
He shakes his head, on cloud nine. “I’m kidding, kind of. I just feel…I feel so light, like—well, it doesn’t matter about that. What matters is you. Please don’t feel obligated to do this. That’s the last thing I want. If you are serious, I can send all the information you need to you in the morning. But only if you’re certain.”
“Jungkook,” the way you say his name makes his heart thump heavy in his chest as if his fate hinges on whatever comes next. “I am serious. I promise. I want to do this for you, for Jiyoon…I want to give you both the happiness you deserve.”
“Thank you,” Jungkook says fervently, never meaning something more in his life.
This happiness carries Jungkook through the rest of the evening, turning into a brilliant flame of intimacy when Jiyoon crawls into bed beside him hours later. For the first time in a long time, there is no schedule, no waiting for the perfect moment; it’s just the love shared between two souls celebrating the joys of life.
💔💔💔
The following day, several emails from Jungkook are waiting for you; Jiyoon CC’d on them all, as well as a few texts to check in. The idea that you could possibly be pregnant in the coming weeks or months—not just pregnant, but pregnant with Jungkook’s baby for your best friend—still feels a bit surreal.
You texted Jiyoon last night, expressing to her how much she means to you and that you’re honored she wants it to be you that helps her fulfill her dreams of having a family. She hasn’t replied yet, but that doesn’t bother you; she’s probably busy helping Jungkook with planning.
There is an entire email dedicated to medical referrals. Apparently, Jungkook spent hours pouring over all the local doctors and medical facilities vetting to find the best ones. Each has notes and suggestions under them, along with all the information you might need to call and make an appointment.
That’s really all you need to do: make an appointment for a check-up. Taehyung made an assumption of your health last night, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. The last thing you’d want to do is be in poor health and unable to keep your word.
Your fingers tremble as you dial the numbers, and you have to take a few shallow breaths to get your voice to work properly. Minutes later, you have an appointment scheduled for later this week. Now, all you have to do is figure out how you’re going to wait the next few days and not burst from anticipation. It’s a slow few days.
Apparently, by Googling every possible thing you can think of about being a surrogate and pregnancies. Along with the emails full of information, by the time you’re walking into the clinic for your appointment at the end of the week, you feel confident asking questions.
“Being a surrogate is a pretty serious situation. Have you considered all the possibilities and what might be required of you?” The doctor has a pleasant demeanor; her eyes are intense yet kind. It might be the steel-colored strands scattered through her hair or the wrinkles that deepen around her eyes when she smiles, but you feel comfortable opening up to her.
You roll your lips between your teeth before saying, “Honestly? Probably not as much as most surrogates. I’m sure there are things I’m not aware of yet. It was only presented to me a few days ago. But I have done some extensive reading and soul-searching, and I know it’s what I want.”
Dr. Lee contemplates you for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I believe you do. Let’s get started, shall we?”
It’s not uncomfortable going through all the tests and procedures. There isn’t much the doctor does that you haven’t done before. Samples are taken, and a routine exam is performed. As you leave, the nurse tells you you should have results within the next two weeks.
Thankfully, the results come at the beginning of the following week. You’re sitting at your desk at work, reviewing the final details for the whiskey campaign Jungkook and Taehyung are shooting in a few days, when you get the notification that your results are viewable on your patient portal. A moment before you click into the email, your phone buzzes in your pocket.
“Hello?” you whisper, cupping your hand around the base of your phone and mouth. A nurse rattles off your information, ensuring she speaks to the right person. “Yes, speaking.”
“I just wanted to let you know that all of your results are in, and Dr. Lee has signed off on your request to move forward with the surrogacy…” Everything else the nurse says is a bit hazy. She covers the numbers for your tests and where to find resources for more information on at-home intracervical insemination. “Do you have any questions for me? Ma’am, are you still there?”
“Oh, umm, yes, sorry. No questions, thank you so much.”
The line disconnects, and you sit there for a few more moments, the phone still held to your ear, as you try to process the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you. You need to tell Jiyoon, Jungkook, someone…anyone. Pushing up from your desk, you scan the area around you for your best friend and come up empty.
“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.
“Jungkook.”
“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”
“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, everything is okay. Everything is perfect. Do you know where Jiyoon might be? I haven’t seen her since she came into the office this morning.” You rack your brain, trying to remember if you saw her leave or go into another room.
“Yeah, she called a little while ago and said that Namjoon was having her meet one of the new clients for lunch to sign some more papers.”
“Right, that’s right,” you say, recalling that Namjoon asked her to come into his office shortly after she arrived this morning.
“Why? What’s up?”
You drag a slow, shallow breath into your lungs in an effort to slow your rapidly beating heart. “I heard back from the doctor.”
Jungkook urges you to continue, “Yeah? What did they say? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”
“I’m…I’m great. I’m perfect. I’m—I, I can do it. We can do it. There’s a chart,” you explain, wedging your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free your hands so you can pull up the email you got and forward it to him. “It has an estimated schedule and recommendations on timing for the best results. I just sent everything over to you.”
“I got it. Wow. Okay. Wow. Oh my…wow! I need to call Jiyoon. Fuck. Oh my god. Okay, thank you! I’ll call you back later, okay?” The line disconnects after Jungkook says a hurried goodbye, the elation in his voice evident.
According to the doctor's ovulation chart, the best time for you to begin trying is next week. Conception is most likely during a twenty-four-hour period. On your way home, you stop and pick up an ovulation testing kit so you can remain on track.
You arrive home filled with nervous energy, unable to stop smiling as you unpack the things you picked up at the pharmacy. A large box of pregnancy tests goes beside the ovulation kit in your medicine cabinet, along with a pack of medical gloves and hand sanitizer. You’re not sure what you’ll need, exactly, but you figure it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.
“Jiyoon!” you gush, swiping to answer the call coming in on your phone. “Hi!”
“Hey, I just got off the phone with Jungkook.” There is a lot of background noise, and it’s hard to hear her clearly.
“Oh, wonderful! I got the results today. There is a possibility of next week being—”
A loud laugh cuts through from Jiyoon’s end, the added clang of dishes drowning you out further. “Sorry, I’m still at dinner. Next week, you say? I’ll be going on a business trip the whole of next week, Namjoon wants me to travel with a client for a go-see.”
Disappointment drags at your shoulders and has your smile softening into a frown. You suppose it can wait a few more weeks. “Okay, no problem. That will give us time to plan a bit more anyway.”
“Sure thing!” Jiyoon yells, the line cutting out momentarily. “I’ll catch you later. I can’t wait to see you when I get back. Thank you. I love you so much!”
“Okay, yeah, love you—” The line goes dead before you can finish. “Love you, too,” you murmur into the quiet of your apartment.
A minor setback. But it’s okay; you’re sure you were getting ahead of yourself anyway. Taking a few weeks to confirm things and actually come up with a game plan is probably for the better. But it doesn’t hurt to start doing that now. Letting the smile that hadn’t left your face most of the day slide back onto your lips, you continue setting up everything in your bathroom so it’ll be there for when you do need it.
It turns out you don’t have to wait—at least, according to Jungkook. From the constant flood of text messages you’ve gotten from him over the last few days, as much as Jiyoon would love to be there to help, she’s given her blessing to proceed with the ICI without her. In her own words, via a text you got last night, there will be plenty more for her to be present for, and she’s far too excited for you to wait for her to return.
Jiyoon has been relatively quiet, but Jungkook explained in delicate words that she’s okay; she just has a lot on her plate right now. Even though it may seem like she’s on the outside, it’s more that this is a very sensitive topic for Jiyoon. Despite wanting a child, ICI is nearly as taboo a subject as IVF when it comes to Jiyoon; you know this. She’s told you how much it makes her feel like a failure. So, you’re content when Jungkook takes full responsibility for the surrogacy journey and has promised to be there for you every step of the way, including coming over to your place tonight to help you with the first ICI attempt.
You’ve been testing your ovulation each morning, and the positive test strip in your bathroom trash has started a full-tilt, day-long extravaganza. It’s a Thursday, just a few days after you got your green light from the doctor, meaning you were able to leave work early and are now sitting on your couch waiting patiently for Jungkook to arrive.
All your research and reading about ICI makes you nervous about what’s to come. It’s not that you’re going to be explicitly intimate with Jungkook, but you’re well aware of the fact that fresh sperm samples, as in within a thirty-minute window, are the best. Which means, he’s going to have to somehow provide the sample while he’s here.
The idea of Jungkook masturbating in your bathroom should feel awkward or perhaps embarrassing to think about, yet you’re oddly comfortable with it. It’s a natural thing, something necessary to create something that’s going to be beautiful.
By the time Jungkook knocks on your door, your hands are clammy, and it takes you two tries to get the handle to turn. He greets you with a giant smile and shining eyes, absolutely breathtaking.
“Hi,” he breathes.
“Hi,” you parrot, unable to contain from reflecting the smile still on his face. “Please, come on in.”
“Thanks.” Jungkook steps past you, and the soft fragrance of his laundry detergent catches in your nose. “I brought everything we need,” he says, holding up a bag. He’s wearing the same denim jacket he was the other night, a white T-shirt underneath above a pair of worn, light-washed jeans, and black boots on his feet that he toes off before heading into your living room.
“Can I get you anything to drink or maybe something to eat? Have you had dinner yet?” You’re not sure how this is going to go, if it’s just going to be a clinical experience or something more comfortable between friends. Because you are friends, right? At this point, you should consider him more than just your best friend’s husband; he should at least be seen as a friend of yours, too.
Jungkook deposits the bag on your couch and turns to look at you. “Um, maybe if you had some beer or something, but I know you don’t drink—” There is a nervous energy to the way he’s talking, words coming out a little too quickly “—so, er, maybe just some water is fine.”
“Actually,” you say, hurrying into the kitchen and opening the fridge, “I got, well, is this okay?” You hold up a 6-pack of beer you bought on a whim a few nights ago. It’s true that you don’t really drink, but you weren’t thinking of yourself at the time that you bought it. In actuality, you were thinking of Jungkook, knowing he’s partial to this brand, and figured…well, you’re not sure what you figured, you bought it before you could give it too much thought.
The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifts, his smile turning into a light smirk. “Wow, my favorite. I’d love to, but actually, I’m not sure if I should, no matter how nervous I am right now…not until after, at least. I haven’t read anything about how alcohol might impact things, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol to drink nor a bite of junk food in the last week, just in case.”
“Oh, right. Of course, I should have thought about that.”
“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t thinking either, I haven’t been able to think about much at all, if I’m being honest,” Jungkook laughs nervously, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. “Is this weird? Are you sure you want to do this?”
It is weird, but not in a bad way, and you don’t want to admit that because you don’t want him to worry. So, you simply smile and shake your head. “It’s not all that weird, it’s…well, just not weird. I am nervous,” you decide to give him at least that. “I’m worried that it might not work, or that I might do something wrong.”
“W-what do you think you might do wrong?” Jungkook asks, moving closer to you. “I’ve…I’ve read a lot about the how, I even got an informational video from my doctor.”
You can feel heat crawling up your neck. “I’m not sure, exactly. I guess just the whole process in general.”
There is a beat where you can see Jungkook contemplating his words. He chews on his bottom lip, eyes unfocused for a moment before returning to you. “I could help if you want. Purely in a platonic, helpful way, no funny business, I swear.”
“Um, I don’t know if that…uh, I can try first, maybe?” You can’t seem to swallow past the thick knot in your throat at the thought of asking Jungkook to help assist you in…well, that.
“Sure, okay. Should we…get started?” Jungkook asks, his eyes flicking back to the bag he dropped on your couch.
Your stomach flips at his words. “Yeah,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, feeling suddenly even more shy than usual.
“Great.” Jungkook claps his hands together before retrieving the bag from the couch. “I have everything we need. It's probably best if we begin this in the bathroom.”
Your apartment has one bathroom, which is joined to the bedroom but is still accessible through the hallway. Jungkook leads the way down the hall, flicking on the light inside the bathroom before stepping aside to let you in as well.
“Have you talked with Jiyoon?” you ask, seeking something to fill the silence as you watch him unpack everything from the bag and arrange it on the bathroom counter.
Jungkook shakes his head in a so-so manner. “I spoke with her for a few minutes earlier to let her know the plan for tonight. She couldn’t talk long and it was hard to hear with all the background noise, but she’s excited and said she can’t wait to be back at the end of the week.”
After washing his hands, Jungkook opens up the packet of a large sterile pad and spreads it out across the rest of the counter. From the research you’ve done, you recognize some of the things he begins to set out. There is a collection cup with an orange screw-on lid, a large syringe with a hose attaching it to a bulbous silicone mushroom-shaped plug, and several single-use packets of water-based lube. He also sets out a box of pregnancy tests, giving you a sheepish smile when you raise an eyebrow at it.
“I, uh, bought some, too,” you say, opening the medicine cabinet to show him the large box of pregnancy tests sitting between your ovulation test kit and your toothbrush.
Jungkook smiles. “I guess we’re on the same wavelength, huh?”
You have to stop yourself from leaning too far into the unusual, yet enticingly warm and appealing, feeling you get when he smiles like that. Clearing your throat, you gesture to the spread of tools. “What now?”
“I think we should discuss a game plan, make sure we know what to do and when to do it. There are some things I’ve read online, plus the directions in this pamphlet,” he says, slipping a folded paper from the box the inseminator came in.
Leaning in, you try to read the step-by-step process written on the paper over Jungkook’s shoulder. He shifts, steps closer to you, and angles the pamphlet to make it easier for you to see.
“Step one, collect the sample. Step two, transfer the sample into the syringe. Step three, insert the silicone plug into the…v-vagina,” you choke over the word, feeling heat licking up your neck, “as close to the cervix as possible. Step four, depress the plunger to administer the sample.”
“Seems pretty simple, right?”
You’re not sure you’d say simple. Sure, step by step, it looks pretty straightforward, but you seem to be responsible for the most challenging part, and that makes you even more nervous than before. “Yeah, simple.”
“Give me a few minutes, I need to—uh,” he points to the sample cup. “I’ll, you know.”
“Oh, right, right, of course. I’ll just—" you hook a thumb over your shoulder towards the door that leads to your bedroom ”—wait in there.”
It’s hard not to pace around your bedroom as you wait. You try to stick to the far side of your bedroom, not wanting to come too close to the bathroom and overhear anything you shouldn’t. The fact your best friend’s husband is in your bathroom masturbating is a weird enough revelation, albeit a necessary one for the ICI procedure; you’d still rather afford him some privacy.
After three minutes, you stop counting the seconds that pass, realizing that means you’re counting how long it takes for Jungkook to produce the sample. Which is something you’re vehemently trying to avoid thinking about so casually.
The bathroom door opening startles you, stopping you in your tracks. Jungkook clears his throat. “Ready?”
You move over to the bathroom. “I think so.”
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You can do this and don’t forget, I’ll be here if you need any help, promise. Purely for help, for the process.” Jungkook swipes a finger in an x over his chest. “Cross my heart.”
“You’re right,” you say, trying to bolster your own confidence. “I can do this.”
You step past Jungkook and into the bathroom, but his hand on your arm pulls you up short. “Wait, wait. Would you feel more comfortable doing it in your room? It’s just that I’ve read it’s best if you could lay on your back with your hips elevated for fifteen to thirty minutes after.” He nods at your bed. “More comfortable than the bathroom floor.”
The idea of doing this on your bed crosses a line, taking this from a medical process to something far more intimate. “Maybe just a pillow,” you say, grabbing one of the decorative throw pillows you never seem to remember to put back on your bed but keep in a small pile on the floor instead.
“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a small smile, and it makes his eyes look soft and bright. The kind of smile you hope you can help him bestow onto a baby.
You leave the door unlocked, just in case you need his help. In your bathroom, there is no evidence of Jungkook's actions other than the very full sample cup sitting on the medical pad covering the counter.
The cup is warm to the touch, which is startling, though you know it shouldn’t be. Placing the pillow down on the floor, you shimmy your pants and panties down your legs and step out of them. There is a lingering scent in the bathroom; it’s a mix of Jungkook’s cologne but also of something clinical. You realize there are two empty packets of lube in your trashcan, and you can’t help the image that pieces itself together in your mind.
Swallowing hard against the threatening flood of further indecent thoughts, you move quickly to prepare the inseminator. It’s a systematic process you can do with little thought—safe—unscrewing the cap of the cup and filling the syringe. Once you’re in position on the floor, hips elevated on the pillow, empty packets of lube discarded and your body primed, you take the silicone plug in one hand and the syringe in the other.
The directions make it seem so easy. But as you try to fit the silicone plug inside, you can’t seem to get it to go where you want it. It keeps slipping sideways and tugging at the tube connecting it to the syringe. Your heart begins to race as you realize you might not be able to do this—not on your own, at least.
By the fourth try, fifteen minutes have passed, and you’re in full-blown panic mode. Your breath wheezes in and out as you crunch up, hands fumbling between your thighs, and sweat forming on your brow. “Oh god, oh god. I—uh, god dammit…Jungkook!” His name is out of your mouth in a strangled yell before you can stop it.
“What is it? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” The frantic words are muffled through the door. The door rattles on its hinges, and you can tell he’s pressing up against it from the sound of denim scuffing along it, probably pressing his ear against it in an effort to hear your response.
You’ve managed to get it inside, but you’re not sure if you can get it all the way in, pressed up against your cervix where it needs to be. It’s possible you used too much lube, though the idea that it’s possible to have too much lubricant seems ridiculous. But no matter what you do or how far you press your fingers in, you’re either at a wrong angle, or your fingers keep slipping on the plug too much. Asking Jungkook for help is the last thing you want to do, but you’re not sure what other options there are.
“C-can you come in here?” you ask in a hoarse voice. There is a moment of silence before the door eases open and Jungkook sticks his head inside. His eyes are closed so tight it makes you let out a snap of nervous laughter. “I think…I think I need help. I’m sorry, I just can’t—it’s not going in all the way, I don’t think,” you gush in explanation.
“Do you—is it okay if I?” Jungkook asks, leaving the obvious unsaid.
“Um, yes…please. I’ve tried, and I just…I don’t want to ruin this. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jungkook shuffles into the bathroom, eyes still firmly closed and arms out in the air. “Um, where exactly are you so I don’t step on you by accident?”
Snagging the edge of the towel hanging on the rack, you pull it down and drape it over your knees to make yourself as decent as you can be in this situation. “Just open your eyes, it’s okay.”
Slowly, his eyes peek open and finally land on where you’re laid out on the floor, bent knees covered in a towel and your shirt askew from all your efforts.
“How can I help?” Jungkook kneels down beside you, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it to the side.
“I just…I don’t know if it’s all the way in. Can you—with your hand, I know that’s horrible and weird, but I don’t know what else to—”
“No, no, it’s not weird. I said I’d help. It’s clinical, right? We’re doing this just as a medical procedure. Like I said, no funny business, I swear. It’s for the baby. I’ll help you.”
“Okay.” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut because it’s hard to look him in the eye when he’s about to—the towel shifts, and cool air licking between your thighs has your mind going blank.
“Look at me,” Jungkook requests, to which you immediately comply. “I need you to promise me you’ll let me know if I hurt you or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop immediately, okay?” When you don’t immediately say anything, he adds, “I need you to tell me you understand.”
“I understand.”
Stretching across to the sink, Jungkook keeps his eyes on yours as he washes his hands and then shifts the towel more, folding it up and over your knees. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
His fingers are gentle against your skin, softer than you expected, and warm from the water. You can feel errant droplets of water streak down your thigh and roll over the bottom of your ass. You try to focus on that feeling instead of the way Jungkook’s hand trails down your thigh until his fingers graze your outer lips.
“I��m going to use two of my fingers to try and seat the inseminator. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” this time, it comes out as more a breath than a word.
You tense at the subtle press of his fingers and how they probe their way down until they find your entrance. There is easily enough lube down there to grease a bakery’s worth of cake pans, considering the half a dozen empty packets now in your trashcan, but you can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath as he begins to press in.
“Still okay?” he asks, fingers moving achingly slow.
“I think so.”
Jungkook’s brow pinches. “I feel it…only about two inches in. I’m going to push it further now. Tell me if it hurts or is uncomfortable.”
Never in a million years did you think you’d ever find yourself in this position. Not only are you butterflied open on your bathroom floor, but your best friend’s husband is now middle-knuckle deep in your vagina, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. In fact, you’re trying to do everything you can to not think about how you stretch around the intrusion of his fingers, or that it feels far better than it should.
“Do you think you can get it all the way?” you ask, voice warbling with nerves.
Jungkook hums, his lips pushing out as if he is trying to concentrate. “I think I’m almost there. Does that feel okay, is it good?”
Not once does he look away from you as he’s pushing deeper into your body. You think you want him to look away, to break that intimate contact, but you can’t even bring yourself to do that—even though you know you should. And the whispered exchange does little to help. Is it good? You’re going to burn in hell for the thoughts now flooding through.
“Oh!” You jolt in place, eyes going wide, all previous thoughts gathering into one singular point. Jungkook mirrors your surprise, his mouth popping open in silent shock.
“I’m so sorry!” he babbles. “I didn’t mean to do that. Oh fuck, god damn, shit…okay, sorry, let me just—” Jungkook is still gentle, yet swift in finishing seating the inseminator before quickly extracting his fingers from your body. “Please believe me when I say I am sorry, and I swear I wasn’t trying…I wasn’t trying to do that.”
Your body is still buzzing from the that he’s talking about—the graze of his thumb over your clit. It’s clear it was an accident by his reaction, but it does nothing to lessen the pulse that is now singing through your body.
“I-it’s okay. Really, it’s okay. It’s fine.” You’re not sure if your words are convincing enough, but Jungkook jerks his head in what you assume is a nod of acknowledgement.
“Um, it’s, uh, it’s in. Do you need me to do the syringe, too?”
“Just do it.” You exhale a shaky breath, finally tearing your eyes away from his. You’re confident he’s still watching you, even as he depresses the syringe and injects his cum into your body—as crass as that sounds in your head, that’s exactly what’s happening, and it’s the first time you think you’re realizing how truly fucked you are for this.
Nothing has happened between you and Jungkook, not in that way, but for some reason, guilt won’t leave you alone. You feel like you’ve just betrayed Jiyoon and feel even more like a ridiculous schoolgirl ruining her life over a crush on a boy. You’re intimately aware of the warmth and the subtle change in pressure as he finishes depressing the inseminator. It makes you want to squirm, but you chew your bottom lip and tap your toes instead.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft and gentle.
“I should be asking you that,” you sigh.
Jungkook balks. “What? Why would you say that? I’m fine…I’m the one that—” He nods toward where your body is now covered with the towel again. As soon as he was done plunging the depressor, he unfolded the towel and made you decent once more.
“You didn’t mean to,” you say, maybe more as a reminder to yourself than him.
“No, but that doesn’t make it okay.” Jungkook settles back on his heels, using one of the wet wipes that came in the kit to clean his hands. Suddenly, he laughs. “This is ridiculous, right? I mean, look at us, we just did something…beautiful, and we’re not allowing ourselves to enjoy it.”
You chuckle softly, fidgeting with one of the ends of the towel. “It is kind of ridiculous, huh? Sorry that I freaked out and you had to do…that.”
”I’m not. Sorry, that is. I’m glad you asked for my help. We’re in this together.” Jungkook gives you a smile, similar to the one he wore when he knocked on your door over an hour ago, and takes up the hand not pinching at the towel in his, squeezing it. “I don’t know that I can even begin to articulate with words just what this means to me. Thank you so much.”
“It means a lot to me, as well. Being able to do this for you and Jiyoon is not something you need to thank me for. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through so much together over the last twenty years…I just want to see her happy. You, too, of course.”
Jungkook hums in the back of his throat, keeping his hand wrapped around yours as he leans back, using the side of the tub for support. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, spanning several minutes until Jungkook speaks again. “Have you ever thought about being a mom, you know, before this?”
It’s on the tip of your tongue to answer with what you think he wants to hear, that this has always been your wish, but instead, you choose to give him an honest answer. “Not really.”
”Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”
If it were anyone else asking, you might mind, but…
You purse your lips before offering yet another truth. “I guess I just…I’m me, you know?”
”No, I don’t think I do know. What do you mean?”
“I’m a single woman in my thirties with no prospects on the horizon. My last boyfriend was over five years ago. I’m a modern-day spinster. Nothing is wrong with that, I love who I am…I just, no one has ever shown interest in me like that. Though it’s not necessary to have another person in the picture, it’s just that…I don’t even know, I’m rambling, sorry.”
Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, and it’s so hard to read his expression. All you want to do is plead with him to tell you what’s on his mind.
“You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” he finally says.
”Do what?” you ask, uncertain what he’s referring to.
“Sell yourself short like that. You are easily one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. You have a successful career and amazing tastes in art and food. Not to mention, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re…you’re amazing, and I know for a fact that people think so, too.”
You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at him. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Because I’m one of them. I wouldn’t choose just anyone to do this with. After all, the baby will be half of you, too. A win-win in my book.” The corner of his mouth tilts in a small smile.
You’re pretty certain you’ve never had something create such a viscerally emotional response in you. It takes everything you have to blink away the sudden onslaught of tears that threaten to overwhelm you.
When you finally think you can speak without melting into a blubbering mess, you whisper, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”
💔💔💔
Jungkook
It’s well after midnight by the time Jungkook makes it home. He’s positively buzzing and can’t even think about going to bed just yet. There is far too much going on in his head, so he decides to expend some energy in the tiny home gym he turned one of the spare rooms into.
The condo he and Jiyoon bought two years into their marriage is spacious, spanning half the second and third floors of the building. There is a three-car garage on the first floor, as well as an elevator that leads to the landing out front. Across the landing is where Taehyung lives with his roommate Jimin, another well-to-do model they met through Kim Exclusives.
Jiyoon stuck her nose up at the fact that Taehyung was buying the unit across from them when Jungkook first told her, but so far, it hasn’t caused too many problems over the years. It helps at times like this, when Jiyoon is traveling for work, to have a friend so close by. Usually, Jungkook would knock next door when he can’t get his head cleared, but for some reason, Jungkook doesn’t want to tell Taehyung about what happened at your place. He doesn’t want to tell anyone, for that matter, holding onto it as a private thing for as long as possible.
Losing himself in sets of squats and curls is far safer than describing in maddening detail the way your soft, lush—Jungkook slams his hand against the squat rack and forces his thoughts away from that line of thinking.
Just because you’re a gorgeous woman with a nice body doesn’t give him the right to think about you like that. Especially considering he’s married to your best friend, whom he loves more than anything. Besides, he’s better than that, knows the whole alpha male hindbrain is the stuff of fantasy. There is no excuse for him having such sordid and outlandish thoughts about you like that. It was simply doing what needed to be done to help—for the baby.
With that in his mind instead, he moves through the motions of his workout. By the time he’s dripping sweat and his muscles are trembling with fatigue, the sun is starting to peek through the windows, and he hasn’t thought about you in hours—well, not much, at least. And when he does, he says it's just because he's thinking of what might be passed down to your baby—er—his and Jiyoon's baby—he reminds himself.
It’s been an excruciating three weeks waiting and waiting to hear from you about something other than work. After Jiyoon returned home from her business trip, Jungkook told her about that night, including the accidental slip-up. At first, she was upset, accusing him of taking advantage of her best friend. It took hours of strained conversation to get her to understand that it was more of a clinical procedure than Jungkook fingering you.
When that accusation was first thrown out, Jungkook was at a loss for words and completely thrown off the tracks. Jiyoon apologized, saying she didn’t understand how he didn’t think she’d be upset about it but that she’d forgive him for it anyway. She then gathered Jungkook into her arms, and they cuddled in bed for the first time in what felt like forever.
Jungkook wasn’t sure if Jiyoon would confront you at work over it, but as the days continued on without a peep from you, he figured things were okay between the two of you. There were times when Jungkook wished something had gone down with you and Jiyoon because then, at least, he’d have an excuse to talk to you in a way that didn’t make him look like he only cared about you now that you were possibly pregnant or with something work-related.
He knows these things take time, and there is only so much he can do. So, he’s been pouring himself into work and filling his schedule with as many activities as possible to keep his mind off of waiting.
“Jungkook, let’s go.” Taehyung raps his knuckles on Jungkook’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Head out of the clouds, daddy-o, we’re needed in hair and makeup.”
Sighing, Jungkook hauls himself off the couch in the studio waiting room and follows Taehyung into the space where the makeup and hair artists are set up. He arrived at the studio early this morning and had spent the last hour spilling his guts to Taehyung, something he promised himself he wouldn’t do but couldn’t keep it contained any longer.
“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grumbles.
Taehyung smirks. “What? Is that not what you’re hoping to be called? Don’t tell me you and Jiyoon are into daddy roleplay. That might make it a little weird to have your kid also call you daddy—ow!”
Rubbing the back of his head where Jungkook smacked him, Taehyung harrumphs before sidestepping the line of chairs and taking a seat in the one farthest from Jungkook.
“Fuck off, Taehyung. After everything I just told you, that’s all you have to say?”
Taehyung throws up his hands, and the hairdresser at his station begins to comb through his black tresses. “The way it seems to me, you’re the only one making a big deal about this. If you want to check on her, I’m sure she won’t think it’s only because she’s your possible surrogate and not because you’re friends after this. And sure, you stuck your fingers into your wife’s best friend’s vagina, but so what? It was what you needed to do. If I really needed you to touch my dick in order to complete an important procedure, I hope you’d do it with a smile on your face.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but closes it when he realizes he can’t really argue against that. Taehyung is right. He did what he had to do. Hell, he knows that, he used those words himself when explaining it to Jiyoon. There’s just this feeling he can’t shake, he’s far too nervous and on edge right now. If only you’d reach out, put him out of his misery with an update.
“I hate it when you’re right. I’ll stop being such a—”
“Hi, guys.”
“Excuse me, ma’am, only staff and models are allowed back here.”
“Whoa, hey, wait. She’s our manager, and she can be here.” Jungkook is quick to spout, not caring if there is desperation evident in his voice. Once his eyes landed on you, it was all he could do not to jump up from the makeup chair, cross the room, and drop to his knees and beg for an update.
The directing assistant who stepped in your path gives you a once-over that makes Jungkook grind his teeth, but he just sighs and steps to the side. “Okay, but you’re both needed on set in fifteen,” he says, directing the last part toward Jungkook and Taehyung.
“It’s okay, I won’t be long. I just…” You hold up a thin manilla envelope and give it a shake. “Jiyoon is out of the office for the day, she said I should let you see first and that you could tell her later tonight at home. So, here I am. I thought we could look together.”
The makeup artist dabbing a sponge on Jungkook’s jaw lifts an eyebrow when he jerks forward in the chair, intent on scrambling across the room despite being in the middle of blending.
“Two minutes,” she says, stepping back from Jungkook and turning to the makeup collection on her table.
“Okay!” Jungkook springs from the chair and rushes over to you, having no regard for the way his hair flops out of place on his forehead. “Hi,” he says when he’s standing in front of you. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment today.”
“I didn’t,” you tell him. “I just wasn’t feeling all that well this morning, so…well, I just wanted to ensure everything was okay. They had to do a pregnancy test, it was routine.” You offer the folder to him. “Want to do the honors?”
Jungkook’s fingers are trembling as he takes the folder from you. It takes him three tries to get the flap open and to extract the slip of paper inside. You give him an encouraging smile as he looks to you for reassurance before letting his eyes sweep over the report.
“It’s…we’re…you’re…holy fuck. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant! YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Jungkook shouts before breaking out into a bout of ecstatic laughter. “Fucking hell, oh my god, you’re pregnant! I’m going to be a father. Me. A father. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes!”
You join in his laughter, the sound pleasant and musical, as he throws his arms around you and spins you in a circle. There are shining tears in your eyes when he sets you down again, happiness clear on your face. “I’m pregnant,” you whisper, the words reverent and full of awe.
There have never been more beautiful words. Jungkook can’t help but say them again. “We’re pregnant.”
It’s hard to say if what Jungkook is feeling right now is considered a healthy response to what his wife, Jiyoon, just told him. But, the erratic beat of his heart paired with the incessant ringing in his ears doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just like he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience.
“Say that again,” he requests, softly smacking his lips, trying to work moisture back into his mouth.
Jiyoon sighs, shuffling the papers on her lap. “I’m pregnant,” she repeats the same words you said just two weeks ago.
“You’re certain?” Jungkook wants to believe he heard her correctly but can’t help asking for clarity again.
“I am.” Jiyoon smiles at Jungkook, her eyes watery. “It’s right here, look.”
Jungkook hesitantly takes the top sheet of paper from Jiyoon, letting his eyes devour the words and numbers on it. It’s all there, everything he needs to see and know for the truth—hCG levels far, far above average, an inked red circle around it along with a doctor’s barely legible scrawl of ‘pregnant’ beside that.
“How far along? It’s been—” Jungkook pauses to try to do the math in his head; it’s been weeks since they were last intimate—the night they agreed to do ICI.
“About eight weeks,” Jiyoon offers. “I suspected a few weeks ago, you know, when I was a little sick that weekend—the one when we found out about, well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up or disappoint you if it wasn’t true, especially after such good news…so I scheduled an appointment. I had to be sure, had to be certain.”
“You’re pregnant.” The words feel thick on Jungkook’s tongue, like he’s trying to talk through a mouthful of peanut butter; sweet, decadent peanut butter.
“I am,” she whispers, the confirmation turning into a squeal of laughter as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and shouts his own happiness.
Peppering kisses all over Jiyoon’s face, Jungkook hops around, alternating between shouting how much he loves her and how he can’t believe his luck. “I’m going to be a father. Twice! What did I do to deserve this?! I love you so much. Fuck!”
“Calm down,” Jiyoon giggles. “Put me down before you make me hurl.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Jungkook pants, setting Jiyoon back down on her feet. “I’m just so excited!” He wiggles his hips and shimmies his shoulders. “We’ll need to order a second crib. Should we have the babies share a room at first? That seems the easier option, right? I bet there is a book on that somewhere, I need to go—”
“Hey, calm, right?” Jiyoon’s smile is warm, soft. “We have time. There is no need to rush. Can we just enjoy this for a little while longer?” she asks, grabbing one of his hands and placing it over her belly.
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Pressing his forehead to hers, Jungkook wraps his other arms around Jiyoon and sighs contentedly. “I love you so much, babe.”
“I love you, too, Jungkook.”
💔💔💔
Jiyoon seems nervous, pushing around the chopped salad on her plate as she chews her bottom lip. She hasn’t met your eyes the entire time you’ve been at lunch. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you’ve been friends with her long enough to know that she’ll come to you with it when she wants, and pushing won’t do you any good.
“So,” she draws the word out, lips forming an exaggerated pucker.
“Yes?”
“How are you feeling?” You can tell that’s not what she wants to say or ask, but you indulge her anyway, hoping you’ll get to the actual matter of why she insisted on going to lunch with you today.
You shift in your seat, setting your fork down on your half-empty plate. “I feel good. I just have some nausea in the mornings sometimes, but it’s not too bad.”
Finally, Jiyoon’s eyes come up to meet yours. “I know what you mean,” she says, the words slow and enunciated—pointed. Her free hand flutters over her belly as if for emphasis.
“What?” The word is more breath than question. “You are?”
“I am,” Jiyoon confirms, tears shining in her eyes.
“Oh, my goodness! Jiyoon! What? But how? Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful!” You can’t contain your excitement for your friend, throwing yourself across the tabletop to hug her fiercely.
She’s laughing as you sit back down, clearly buzzing with her own excitement. “We just found out. It seems a miracle was in our cards after all. It’s still early, nine weeks or so now.” That would make it just two weeks, give or take, before you and Jungkook did the ICI.
“Wow,” you breathe, your own hand landing on your stomach. “They might as well be twins. It’ll be so cool—what?” Jiyoon’s frown stilts your excitement. “What is it?”
She casts her eyes away from yours again, pulling her full bottom lip between her teeth before letting it pop back out. “I don’t know. I just thought…it’s not too late if you wanted to—I just know it’s a lot on someone, your body, the pain and everything that comes after. And now that I’m pregnant, it’s just, we don’t expect you to continue…if you don’t want. We’d be completely understanding and fully supportive if you—”
“Termination? Is that…what you’re talking about? And Jungkook agrees?”
Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that word. I’m just saying that we will support your decision to do that if you’d like. It was never in the plans to have more than one child, and now it would be two newborns at the same time…that’s a lot, you know? Twice as many diapers, bottles, and sleepless nights. It would be hard to say goodbye, but we’d still love you and not think less of you for it.”
Your mouth feels too dry for you to form words. You know what she’s saying. Though there isn’t a single ounce of you that desires that, you also understand the hesitation Jiyoon is expressing. She’s right. There wasn’t a plan for two babies. So, what now? Do you volunteer to help? Do you seek out the advice of a lawyer to know where your parental rights might sit in the case they decide they don’t want the baby in the end? So many thoughts swirl through your mind that it makes you dizzy.
“Can I think about it?” you ask, feeling for the first time a wave of uncertainty.
Jiyoon gives you what you assume is supposed to be an assuring smile. “Of course. And if you decide not to, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of system. We’ll figure it out.”
She seems so sure that no matter your decision, it’ll all be okay. “Really?”
“Absolutely. I want—we want, these babies, even if we didn’t plan for two. I was just letting you know that there is that option if you want it.”
“I-I don’t think I do, but if that changes…I’ll let you know.”
“That’s all I ask! Now, tell me, what do you think it’ll be?” she asks, patting her flat stomach again. “A boy or a girl? I’m leaning more towards a boy…”
💔💔💔
Jungkook
Jungkook still can’t believe his life. Two babies—two extraordinary miracles, it’s surreal—perfect. His calendar has never been more full. There’s the regular schedule of photo shoots, meetings, and other client work but now those are penned in between the baby classes he’s signed up for and various doctor’s appointments.
One of which is scheduled this afternoon, just a few hours after another this morning. There is your ten-week and then Jiyoon’s three-month appointment. Things have been going great with the pregnancies being so close together, but it does sometimes make appointments and times overlap. Which is how Jungkook finds himself sprinting across the parking lot of Jiyoon’s doctor’s office. He’s late—really late. He didn’t mean to arrive so late. It’s just that your appointment ran a little longer than expected, and traffic wasn’t exactly on his side, either.
Just as Jungkook puts his hand on the handle to open the door to the doctor’s office, it swings outward, nearly smacking him in the face. Jiyoon glares at him, a peeved sigh escaping her.
“You missed it.”
“What? No. I still have—” he glances down at his watch. “The appointment should have lasted at least forty-five minutes, and it’s only been thirty.”
Jiyoon rolls her eyes. “They were able to get me in a few minutes early.” She pushes past him and starts towards her car. “Everything is fine, by the way. The baby is measuring small but is still healthy. Thanks for asking,” she snarks, holding up a length of printed film.
Jungkook grabs the strip from her hand, jogging to keep up with her angry strides. “Wow,” he whispers, looking down at the 2D images. “She’s beautiful, so tiny.”
“She? It could be a boy.”
“Is that what you hope it is?” Jungkook asks, skipping ahead of Jiyoon before turning and walking backwards in front of her. His eyes barely leave the black-and-white grainy images. He traces over the faintly-there contours of the face, the delicate nose and forehead.
Clicking the unlock button on her keyfob, Jiyoon sighs again. “I just want it to be healthy. I don’t care what gender it is.”
“You don’t care?” Jungkook purses his lips, finally looking up at his wife. She’s wearing a designer pantsuit, the deep navy complementing her porcelain complexion and making the red lip she has on pop beautifully. Pregnancy looks good on her. He opens his mouth to tell her so when she cuts him off.
“Don’t say it like that. Of course, I care. Good god, Jungkook, why do you have to make me feel like shit all the time? First you missed my appointment, because why? Because you were busy playing daddy to someone else. And now, here you are, accusing me of being a terrible mother before it’s even born. Fuck you. Fuck you, Jungkook.”
Jungkook is so confused. “What? I didn’t—playing daddy? What are you talking about? I already said I was sorry for missing the appointment, you know the times were really close. It was her ten-week appointment. They were measuring her nuchal translucency, you remember how important that is!”
“Whatever,” Jiyoon deadpans, pushing around Jungkook and climbing into her car. “I have a meeting tonight, don’t wait up for me.”
Before Jungkook can respond, the door slams shut, Jiyoon turns over the engine, and takes off. Maybe not everything is perfect, he laments to himself, mulling over his earlier thoughts. With a determined expression on his face, Jungkook makes his way to his own car and promises to do his best to make this right, vowing not to let something like this happen again.
Of course, it’s only some weeks later that Jungkook has to break this vow. It’s not his fault, it’s no ones. It seems that life just wants to test him, perhaps make sure he’s honing his time management skills for when the babies come.
Everything has been going great since his hiccup with missing Jiyoon’s twelve-week appointment. He’s been able to shuffle around his schedule and work with the both of you to ensure appointments don’t overlap or are too close together.
Jiyoon has become reliant on him, which is something Jungkook revels in. It’s like their marriage is finally back to the way it once was, full of nights cuddled in bed and romantic dinners—sans the wine. While you’ve been fiercely independent, yet charmingly sweet when it comes to Jungkook and Jiyoon and sharing the pregnancy experience with them.
There have been a few discussions about the fact that now there are going to be two babies instead of one. Jungkook has spent nearly all of his free time turning the guest bedroom into a nursery fit for two. His home gym has become a catch-all, most of the equipment being confined into a corner to make room for the furniture that came out of the guest room-now-nursery.
It’s been a lot, but it’s something Jungkook would never trade for anything in all the world. He’s positively jubilant over the prospect of being a father. It’s something he’s dreamed about for as long as he can remember. Now, it’s just a few months away, a permanent light in his life.
“J-jungkook?” your trembling voice sounds through his phone when he swipes to answer the call, tossing the paint roller into the bucket. Butter yellow coats the walls of the nursery and dots the hem of his old t-shirt.
“Hey, is everything okay?”
“I think so. I don’t know. I slipped on the stairs, I’m at the ER right now—”
“I’m on my way!”
“Jungkook, no. It’s okay. I know you have things going on today. I just thought I should tell you. Jiyoon was in a meeting, so Namjoon said he’d pass her a memo when she was done.”
He’s supposed to attend a First-Time Fathers class in an hour, and Jiyoon has her twenty-two-week anatomy scan this afternoon. The class can wait. If he’s lucky, he can go to the ER, check on you, and then make it to Jiyoon’s appointment.
“No, no, you’re not sitting in the ER by yourself. I’ll text Jiyoon and let her know that I’m leaving now to come check on you.”
“O-okay.”
The line disconnects, and Jungkook slaps the lid on the paint bucket and throws a plastic sheet over the paint tray. If it dries out, then it dries out. Paint can be replaced; your health is far more crucial right now.
Walking into the entryway, he thumbs open his messages and types out a quick text to Jiyoon before tossing his phone on the small bench by the door so he can pull on his shoes.
It’s a twenty-minute drive to the hospital, and it takes another ten minutes of searching to find you sitting in a waiting room with a large ice pack resting on your right foot.
“Hey, are you okay? Have you been seen yet? How long have you been here? What happened?”
You hold up a hand to ward off more of his word vomit, an embarrassed smile soft on your face. “Slow down, have a seat. I’m okay. They said I should be called back soon.”
Instead of sitting, Jungkook kneels on the floor in front of you. His fingers the ice pack, his face falling even further. “What happened?”
“I slipped in the stairwell at work, missed the last step and came down hard on the side of my foot.”
“Can I?” he asks, fingers moving to the corner of the ice pack.
You nod. “Yeah.”
Lifting it gently, Jungkook takes in the sight of your foot. The black ballet flats you’re wearing give him a clear view of the swelling that’s already beginning along the top and side of your foot.
“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”
Before you can answer Jungkook a nurse comes through one of the doors, pushing a wheelchair. She wheels it over to you and says, “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Jungkook slips his arm under yours as you stand before slowly helping you lower into the wheelchair. “Would you like to push her back?” the nurse asks Jungkook.
“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.
“Of course. Unless you’d rather wait out here, and I can call for you when your wife is done.”
“Oh, she’s not—”
“I’d like for you to come if that’s okay? I don’t really want to be alone,” you interject before Jungkook can correct the nurse. She gives Jungkook a polite nod and gestures towards the door she came through.
“Please come right this way. We’ll need to get a quick weight and a urine sample before I can get you into your room, where the doctor will see you shortly.”
Jungkook aids you the best he can, helping you to and from the wheelchair as he can. He almost asks if you want him to come into the restroom with you, but you give him a quick shake of your head before closing the door on him.
What feels like an eternity later, you’re finally settled on a bed with Jungkook sitting in the chair beside it.
“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “I know I said I wanted you to come back with me, and it’s not that I want you to leave, but please don’t feel obligated to stay. I know you have a lot of other things going on.”
Shifting his chair closer, Jungkook reaches for one of your hands. “Nonsense. I’m glad you called. I feel bad that I haven’t been to as many doctor’s appointments with you. I feel like it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve even seen you. I wish our schedules worked out a little better. Perhaps, as my manager, there’s something you can do about that?” he asks, giving you a jesting wink.
“I was trying to give you more time to go to Jiyoon’s appointments!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.
“I know, but in case you forgot, you’re also carrying my child. Don’t get me wrong, though, the texts are great, and I really appreciate the weekly baby bump pictures, but it’d be nice to actually see you. Though, maybe next time, let’s make it not where you’re laid up in a hospital bed, not yet, at least,” he adds on with a low laugh.
This is the first time Jungkook has seen your bump in person. The soft swell under your shirt calls to him, and he wonders if it would be okay to touch it. As if you’re reading his mind, you take the hand that’s wrapped around yours and press it gently over your stomach.
“Kinda weird, huh?”
“No. No, not weird at all,” Jungkook says, being completely raw and honest with you. Jiyoon is touchy about her belly, pun wholly not intended, seeing as she doesn’t let him touch her bump nearly as much as he’d like to. She’s only recently started to show, and it’s hitting her hard, with which Jungkook tries to empathize. He can’t imagine being pregnant and how much a body changes; he’d probably feel things like that, too.
He spends a moment absorbing the feel, trying to imagine the little life growing just a few inches below his hand. Life he helped create. He’s so in awe he could cry…if it wasn’t for the door opening and breaking the momentary spell over him.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee. I’ll be your attending today. I hear you slipped down the stairs today and are worried your foot might be broken?” The cheery, middle-aged woman chatters away, washing her hands and drying them off before offering one to you and then to Jungkook.
“Yeah. I missed the last step and landed on the side of my foot pretty hard.” You shake your head with a rueful smile. “I should have just waited for the elevator.”
“Oh, ouch. Let’s take a look,” Dr. Lee coos. “May I?” She gestures to the blanket covering your feet. Jungkook helped you remove your shoes once you were in bed and tossed the blanket over your feet so they wouldn’t get cold.
“Of course.”
Dr. Lee pulls back the blanket and gently probes at your foot, turning it slowly side to side to get a better look. “Does this hurt?” she asks as she rotates your ankle.
“A little, not as much as putting pressure on it, though.”
The doctor nods. “I think it might be best if we do an x-ray just to be sure it’s not broken.”
“Won’t that be harmful to the baby?” Jungkook asks.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to protect your little one.” Jungkook nods his understanding. “Is it your first? You look a little green around the gills, first-time-father jitters.”
Jungkook isn’t entirely sure how to answer that. Because, technically…no? Considering Jiyoon is approximately two weeks further along than you are. Would that make her baby his first? A laugh, barely restrained, simmers deep in Jungkook’s chest.
“Something like that,” he finally says, earning another warm smile from the doctor.
“Alright, let’s get started so I can get you two out of here as soon as possible.”
The word ‘soon’ should be a relative term when it comes to hospitals—or a word that hospital staff is barred from using. Jungkook doesn’t mind spending the hours waiting with you. In fact, you’re pretty pleasant company. That’s not to say Jiyoon isn’t when Jungkook attends appointments with her; there’s just a different level of expectation, he thinks. He hopes this baby will have your patience and grace like that.
Jiyoon wants a quiet observer sitting in the corner, whereas you’re welcoming to his insights and curiosities. You haven’t hushed him a single time when he’s voiced a question of any of the medical staff. In fact, it almost seems like you welcome it, comfortable in letting him show his concern for you.
Thankfully, the x-ray showed no break or fracture. You’ve been given a temporary boot to wear for the next week and strict instructions not to overdo it. “Got it,” you say once the nurse has finished explaining everything to you.
“Now, before we discharge you, we would like to have a sonographer brought in to check on the baby. According to your charts and file, you’re at the twenty-week mark now.”
Jungkook stands up, panic worming its way in. “Should we be worried? Is everything okay?”
The nurse gives him a motherly smile. “That’s what we would like to check.” She turns her attention to you. “You didn’t fall on your belly, but with any trauma to the body, it never hurts just to be sure.”
Of course. That makes sense to Jungkook, but he looks to you for confirmation. “Yeah? You want to do that?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
Jungkook has only attended two live ultrasounds in all the doctor’s appointments he has been to. He has many printed ultrasound images that are now stuck to the refrigerator at home, one side for Jiyoon and the other for you. But he’s only managed to attend one for Jiyoon and one for you, so this will be a wonderful treat.
“Okay, they’ll be here in just a moment.”
A few moments pass after the nurse leaves the room, and Jungkook allows himself to truly assess his internal feelings. He’s thankful that you’re okay and will feel even more at ease once the ultrasound confirms the baby is alright, too. It’s wild for Jungkook to think that just a few months ago, his life felt like it was on the verge of falling apart. There was a steadily growing rift between him and Jiyoon, and you were just Jiyoon’s best friend.
Now, however, he feels closer than ever to his wife, and you’ve managed to carve out your own little pocket in his heart, too. It’s alarming, yet comforting, to realize that there is something more between you and him—a deepening connection that’s still delicate but growing more solid with each passing day.
“You feeling okay?” Your voice breaks through Jungkook’s reverie.
“Hm? Me? I’m great,” he assures, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You’ve barely let his hand go the entire time, to which Jungkook won’t complain. “Does it hurt much?” Jungkook nods toward the end of the bed, where your feet are back under the blanket.
You shrug. “It’s not so bad while laying here.”
“Hi!” a bubbly voice calls from the door a second before a young blond woman wheels an imaging cart into the room. “Are we ready to get a look at your little one before you guys go home?”
“Yep.” You give Jungkook’s hand a light squeeze. “Excited?” you ask in a soft voice meant only for him.
“Very,” he tells you, sitting up straighter in his chair.
“Now, this won’t be nearly as good as if we were in radiology in an exam room, but all we really want is to get a look to make sure everything is okay. Besides, who doesn’t want to take a peek when you get the chance, right?”
The tech, with Jungkook’s assistance, helps you adjust on the bed until you’re in a comfortable position for the ultrasound. Jungkook feels frozen as you tug your blouse up and over your belly, giving him his first real glimpse of the swell in all its glory. It’s one thing to see it through your shirt, another thing entirely to see it like this.
“Cold,” you chuckle as the tech squeezes a glob of contact gel onto your lower belly.
“Sorry about that, these carts unfortunately don’t have the warmers on them. Ah, here we are,” she sing-songs when she smoothes the wand over the gel. “Look at that.”
Jungkook tears his eyes from your face, focusing his gaze on the imaging machine's display screen. His breath stutters in his lungs, and a wave of pure, unrestrained joy washes over him.
“They’re perfect,” he says, voice thick with emotion. Jungkook watches as an arm moves across the screen, followed by a little kicking foot.
“Seeing them never ceases to take my breath away.” You take the words right out of Jungkook’s mouth.
The tech hums, giving you a soft smile as she moves the wand around to different angles. “No gender yet?” she asks. “I’ll try to be careful here, don’t want to have any spoilers…unless you would like to know?”
It’s hard not to be curious. “Is it not too early to tell?” Jungkook asks.
Turning the screen slightly away from you and Jungkook, the tech says, “Um, nope. Not too early. Everything looks good, though. So, if you’d rather wait, we can get cleaned up and be done here.”
“What do you say?” Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow.
Your teeth leave a dent in your bottom lip as you worry it for a moment. Another thing he thinks would be cute to see his mini-me do. “I kind of want to, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he admits, loving the fact that you do.
“Okay, wonderful. In that case,” the tech says before moving the screen back and adjusting the wand on your belly. “Take a look here.”
When Jungkook arrives home, the sun has long since gone down, but he’s so high on cloud nine that he can’t bring himself to care. The large smile on his face hasn’t slipped in the slightest.
Jungkook is certain nothing can bring him down. At least, that is, until he walks through the front door of his condo and straight into hell. Jiyoon is sitting at their dining table, her expression completely devoid of emotion.
“Hey, babe. What’s going on?” Jungkook hesitantly asks, eyes sweeping the open layout and taking note that the only light on is the recessed one directly over Jiyoon. His smile slowly fades, replaced with a crease between his brows.
“What’s going on?” she asks in a cold voice.
“Is everything okay?”
Jiyoon sniffs, her eyes narrowing, the first sign of emotion he’s seen since he walked in. “No. Everything is not okay.”
“O…kay,” Jungkook draws the word out, letting his mind flip through its internal catalog, trying to find pieces of the puzzle to put together.
“Where have you been?”
“There was an accident. Did you get the note from—”
“You’ve not answered any of my calls or texts.”
“I sent you a text before I left. I think I misplaced my phone, I can’t seem to find—”
“You missed my appointment!” she sneers, cutting him off once more. “And you did not text me. I haven’t heard from you since this morning.”
Realization hits, and the warmth drains from Jungkook’s face. He was so focused on everything with you, the panic and then the joy, that he completely spaced on everything else he should have done today. But also…
“I swear I texted you to let you know I was going to the hospital. I was going to make sure everything was okay.” As soon as your name falls from his lips Jiyoon shoves back from the table and rounds it, getting in his face. “She slipped at work and thought she might have broken her foot. Namjoon was supposed to give you a note about it since you were in a meeting. She called me. I was worried. I didn’t mean to miss your appointment. Were they able to determine the gender?”
Jiyoon jabs a finger in the center of his chest. “Not. Good. Enough. I’m your wife, not her! You’re supposed to be with me! Instead, you spend all your fucking time with your nose up her ass when you barely even know her!” Jungkook staggers back as her poke turns into a fully-palmed shove. “You’re un-fucking-believable! What a goddamn joke.”
“Jiyoon, that’s not fair. Something could have been wrong with the baby. It was an emergency,” Jungkook says, trying to make Jiyoon see reason.
It doesn’t work.
“Fuck you! Why do you care so fucking much about that stupid baby?! All you do is fawn over the photos and re-read her text updates! This,” she gestures wildly at her stomach, “is the baby you should care about! Yet you can’t even show up when it counts.”
“You can’t be serious. This is ridiculous.” Jungkook keeps his tone level, refusing to be baited into a knock-down-drag-out with her.
“No!” Jiyoon screams, making Jungkook flinch. “You are ridiculous.” Suddenly a menacing smile cuts across her face. “I bet you slept with her. Didn’t you? That’s it, you’re feeling possessive because you fucked my best friend, and that’s how she got knocked up, isn’t it?”
Jiyoon’s words spark a ringing in Jungkook’s ears. “What?” he whispers, the word barely forming.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Jungkook. I know you too well for that. Let’s not forget your little slip-up—” she throws up air quotes as she says that “—the night you supposedly did ICI.”
“I told you it was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it!”
Sarcasm is a heavy, bitter layer in Jiyoon’s reply, “You just so happened to touch her clit? Just a little oopsie, so innocent. You’re too nice to outright lie to me, so, of course, you come up with some half-truth, expecting me to believe that you didn’t want it, that you weren’t secretly gnawing at the opportunity to try and seduce my best friend!”
“That is not what happened at all!”
“So I’m supposed to believe my pathetically inexperienced best friend is the one that seduced you, then?”
“What? That’s not what I said at all. No one seduced anyone. You’re being fucking crazy right now. You know I’d never do that to y—”
The crack of Jiyoon’s palm against his jaw stuns him into silence. “Don’t you dare call me crazy!” she screams. “You’d never do that to me? Yeah, right. You’re a man, and that’s what men do! Heaven forbid a woman works hard and spends time away from the home, trying to provide for her family. Is that it? I’m gone too much for your sad little dick, so you have to chase after the first desperate pussy that comes your way?”
Jungkook presses his fingers over the searing heat licking up his jaw where her hand struck him. “Jiyoon, no, it’s not like that at all,” he says, losing his momentum because he’s not sure what he can say at this point to make her see reason. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“Fucking my best friend because she’s convenient and out of spite for me being gone so much? No, that sounds exactly like something you would do. Well, looks like it’s your lucky day because two can play that game, asshole. Enjoy your fucking prize!”
Jungkook jerks back, as if Jiyoon just slapped him again. “What does that mean?”
She laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “This baby—” she seethes, rubbing over the small swell of her belly, voice rising with every word “—it’s not yours, you pathetic bastard!”
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon)
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©️ 2024-02-13 ColorMePurplex2
#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
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Mav doesn’t understand Memes. The daggers tried (they tried so hard) but they’ve created a monster. All he sends is raccoon memes - please send help.
#All Ice wanted to know is when his hubby would be home for dinner#Now he’s hoping his husband gets lost on the way#Admiral Simpson is done#The flyboys are done#GOOSE’S FORCE GHOST IS DONE#the only one who appreciates Mav’s memes is Jake and we all know why#Everytime the flyboys do a mental health check on Mav through text he sends one of these kinds of memes#Unhonestly at this point Slider is ready to ship Mav off to a mental health hospital and throw away the key#once again another useless contribution to the fandom#icemav#storeboughtheadcanons#top gun#pete maverick mitchell#top gun maverick#top gun shitpost#baby daggers armed with daggers
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Love the inherent duality of ripping off the same character twice. They're the same at their cores but develop in different directions.
#personal#Ariel's characters#Ivan Sullivan#Mallory Robustelli#they're both split off from my Peepers rp blog#Ivan picked up more sympathetic traits and is more of a jerk trying to be a supervillain because it's cool#Mallory absorbed the evil he lost and became an extremely successful one#they both tried to manipulate a stronger villain to get people to take them seriously as a villain#Ivan summoned a demon who's indifferent to his scheming and just wants to chill#and is initially frustrated but grows to view him as family#Mallory got EXACTLY what she wanted#and now her continued reign and everything she's ever worked for#is tied to staying in an abusive marriage#she doesn't even realize that she's trapped#Ivan's an edgy accidental goofball while Mallory's a tragic villain in a hell of her own design#domestic abuse mention#btw Ivan is her daughter's (for awhile) best friend#Mallory and her husband were his inspiration#Mallory sees herself in him and keeps hoping that they'll get married so he can aid her daughter the same way she supported her husband#neither Ivan or her daughter are interested in following in their footsteps#they want to make their own paths without being tied down#tbh just realized that she'd be aware that he's an aspiring supervillain so#there's gonna be a ''I can't comprehend why you don't take the opportunity you've been given'' element to their relationship#btw btw her and her husband are both pathetic when you get to know them on a personal level#so his idolization doesn't last all that long after meeting them
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"𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊"
𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊
—cw: lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, dirty, nasty, depraved stuff, vaginal sex, period oral mention, monsterfucking in kuna's (sukuna's is way too dirty), dry humping, drinking breast milk obv, not proofread (this is too long and i have an event tomorrow)
—a/n: i have officially lost it. is it obvious i have lost it? idk if this is the best or the worst thing you will ever read but this is very depraved and nasty. like...aaaaaaaaaahh okay i am normal. i put my big titties non existent breast milk into this so please read it all and i hope you enjoy.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
— satoru is the man who is always up for something new. especially, if it involves pleasing you because he's a good husband and that's good what husbands do. he knows how to pull out the naughty parts out of you, but he had to work his way up.
"I am just saying. It helps. Believe me," your husband was arguing with you.
"Cut it out, Toru. I am not letting you suck my boobs."
"But why?"
"Because it's gross and weird." The moment those words left your mouth, he audibly gasped.
"Did you just call our baby's food gross?" You rolled your eyes. He's always like this. It's not like you weren't curious of his reaction when he does taste you, you were just scared that he'd be disgusted. Plus the post pregnancy hormones are worst as they make you emotional over the silliest things.
"Please, baby? Just this one time. I'll be a good boy I promise." You hate when he addresses himself as if he's an angel. He is a mischievous devil inside. But rather than having him pester you for the rest of the night and ruin your hard earned sleep (since your baby's cries always wakes you up) You thought maybe let him and just get it over with...
"mmph ffhuck." His moans vibrated through your skin, "mhmm god ywo twaste shwo good." The moment he said that, all the insecurity left your body, and heat forming between your legs.
"Ngh—toru..." you felt so embarrassed—so dirty when his eyes locked with you. Your lashes fluttered and you looked away but you swore you could feel him smiling on your nipples. Your husband really digs out the emotions you never thought existed within you.
He was pressing them together, playing like he had just found a new toy. You had never seen so much amusement in those blue eyes as much as of now. Bright pink tongue lolling out to taste the squirting liquid when he squeezed both your breasts together.
"Feels good, right baby? ah!" *slurp* He wiped the dripping milk at the end of his lips with his tongue, and you couldn't process. You felt so wet. And he knew you very well. After all, you've been together for so many years.
"Lay down baby. I'll fuck you while I drink you." You never thought you'd ever hear that sentence but there it was.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
— toji has always been an experienced man. he has definitely tried a lot of things. but there's always areas to expand knowledge and new things to learn. he wouldn't do anything that makes you uncomfortable but he knew the person he was marrying wasn't ordinary. you, deep down, were just very dirty like him.
You had your legs stretched on the sofa, upper body resting on your husband's lap. Since you guys had a baby, it was very rare for you rest. Being a parent is the best thing in the world but it also feels worse than a 9to5 sometimes. Today was a good day though. Your boy was sleeping soundly and you had some quality time to spend with each other. Well, it's hard to go on a date at this time, but you both were just happy to be in each other's presence.
Toji was mindlessly flipping through some channels after he got bored halfway through that one movie he was watching. His emerald eyes fell on your ipad screen where you were scrolling through what seemed like a baby product websites.
"I thought we had bought everything for little gumi." You looked up at him then back to the screen.
"Oh this isn't for gumi bear. This is for me. These are called breast shells."
"What? Show me." He took the ipad from you and carefully observed the product you were supposedly buying. "So what is this a fashion accessory for mommies now?"
"Hehehe," you giggled. "No, baby. My breast oversupplies sometimes and it ruins my dress. They prevent that." You watched him as he sat there in silence, poking his tongue inside his mouth. Within two seconds, he flipped you on the sofa, and gently climbed on you.
"Why are you buying that shitty thing when I am right here?"
"Toji, what do y—OH MY GOD!" he pulled out both your breast pretty quickly, all thanks to your maternity clothes. He knew you won't stop him. He knew you would get wet when he'd do that. And he was right on the money. He started sucking so hard, you felt...foreign. He had sucked them a hundred times before but watching him flick your nipples with his tongue and the milk trailing down, fusing with the tastebuds until it goes transparent and his adam's apple bobs when he gulps it. fuck.
Toji's obvious boner grinds against your heat as he suckled on those pretty tits. The wet patch on your panties were now staining his grey bottoms too.
"Overflowing down there too, mama? Hmph," he chuckled. You were to focused on the feeling of his lips on your nipples that you forgot to see his right hand moving down to cup your heat.
"Ngh—twoji," you mewled.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." Thick fingers circled your wet clit, "Ya don't need those shells or whateva when i am right here." He is a great husband. He even saved you so much money that you were gonna spend on those silicones.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
—suguru worships you. it isn't obvious but you can feel his devotion towards you. the way his droopy eyes lights up when they fall on you, or his ears turn red when you kiss him. he loves how you take him in, struggling a little at first because he is girthy and a bit long, but when he bottoms out, you finally exhale and relax your walls around him. holy shit. he loves it. but this time, something different struck his curiosity.
"fuck. you sure we can do this baby?" He asked.
"'s okay, sugu. doc said we had to wait like six weeks and it's been three months." You were so busy in your post pregnancy life that you barely got time for just each other. You hadn't even kissed properly in months. "plus," you reached for his cock, "i need you." Those last words came off as a whine. You needed him and who is he to deny you off your pleasure.
You were on top of him as you positioned his boner to your entrance. He watched as your cunt swallowed him. This time, not struggling as much. Thanks to dilation.
"anh! suguuu~ mhmm missed your cock." You moaned so beautifully, he found himself falling in love over and over again. Yet, something was different. Normally, his eyes would focus down on how you well you take him as you ride it, but today he had found something rather more interesting. Your big tits bumped against his face and he couldn't take his eyes of those nipples. Those glistening nipples. He could see droplets of milk settling and honestly, they looked so fucking tempting. He let his intrusive thoughts win as you felt a warm sensation on your boobs.
"haaa—fuck. sugu, mhmm—no, it's gross" He didn't reply. He didn't need to. Pretending he didn't hear that was just right. Why would you even think anything about you is gross. He would kiss the soil you walked on.
"so fucking sweet. my sweet girl." *sucksucksuck* "these are f'me too, right? these were made f'me. hmm...sweet *suck* fucking *suck* girl.
congratulations. you just unlocked his new kink.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
—nanami is a gentke lover. we all know that. he is only mean in bed if you ask him too. that alone needs a lot of convincing because he is scared of hurting you. he is not too kinky but you can't say he's completely vanilla. he enjoys wrapping a tie around wrist as be eats you out. he also found himself getting hard when you called him "daddy." So yeah, he is a little kinky. But not in a million years Nanami Kento would've thought he would get hard watching you wipe the excess milk off your breasts.
"So i just put her down to sleep," you walked out of the baby room, with your left tit out, wiping it with a napkin. "What do you want for lunch—Kento?" He immediately broke the staring contest he was having with your boobs and looked at you.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Is everything alright? Is there something on my breasts?"
"Yes—I mean no. of course not." It was rare to hear panic in his voice which only made you mroe curious. You walked closer to him, hsi breath heavier than usual.
"What's wrong, Ken? Talk to me." shit shit shit. you were too close. he could feel your wet boobs rubbing against his cyan blue shirt. If you got any closer, you would loathe him for having a boner for such thing. He was ashamed of himself.
"Why are you looking away, baby? Do you not like me anymore?" Fuck. You're so stupid. Not like you? That man is in love with you so much. He cannot contain himself. You tried to get closer but he tripped on the foot of the couch and felk on it upright, and you on top of him.
oh.
OH.
You could feel it between your legs. You didn't even kiss him and it's not like you were seducing him earlier so you connected the dots pretty quickly on why he was hard.
"hmm hmm" you giggled. "is this what makes you hard you, ken? my lactating tits?"
"don't say it out loud, please." it was so fun seeing him all flustered. you adjusted yourself on top him as you thought of something very dirty.
"wanna taste? i know you're curious." he hesitated a bit, but a man like him can only go so high with his walls before he breaks them and let's his wife take control.
He started off with a few licks, testing his feet into the water. It was sweet with a hint of tanginess. The moment he felt it squirting a lot when he sucked, he fell in love. He acted like a kid who had just discovered magic. You chuckled between your heavy moans as you witnessed him trying to fit in your tits in his mouth as much as he can. You start grinding on him and it only makes him more desperate. He taps your thighs, a cue to pull your dress up and throw it in the floor. You watch as he hungrily latches his lips on your nipples quickly again. Your dress was not even off your arms yet. Nanami had discovered his obsession when he watched you squeeze you tits to squirt your milk on him.
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
—sukuna didn't even think it was possible for him to have a child as him being a curse and you being a human but here you were. he was in love with you. maybe his expression for love was different than others, but you felt it. be wasn't an embodiment of rage, but rather an overflowing confidence in his skills. That's where the cockiness came from. Existing for over a 1000 years, he thought he had experienced everything. Well...he was wrong.
"So...you just out this device on your chest and it gathers your milk?"
"Yes. It's called a "breast pump" and not a device," his vocabulary according to the new era was still weak but he was working on it.
When you detached the the vaccum of the breast pump from your boobs, Sukuna's eyes were fixated on them. He loved your tits. He had his fair share of biting and sucking on them till they were sore, but today they looked so plumped and so...succulent??
"What are you staring at? You want to drink it too or what?" You joked as you closed the lid of the bottle.
"Yes." You stared at him. Two minutes of complete shock snd silence.
"What?"
"What? You said if I want to drink it, and I answered."
"Yeah but—"
"Be a good wife, my little human. Good wives obey their husband's wishes." (Please let the feminist in you shut up for a sec and enjoy cuz i know he'd say smtg like this)
"Kuna...I don't know. It's nasty, y'know?"
"I think you're forgetting that I am a monster, baby. I ate you out during your those days of the month. This is less dirty." He yaps a lot someone shit him up before I die from embarrassment.
Sukuna laid you on the bed gently after getting you undressed. For the first time in so.many years, you were feeling shy again in front of him. It was quite an amusing sight to enjoy for him. He summoned a mouth on both his palm and licked your nipples. He wasn't sucking yet, but the hint of sweetness still laced his tastebuds.
"I am going to squeeze your breasts in my mouth now, okay?" Why did he feel the need to announce it? Weren't you already so flustered?
The tongues on his palm licked the skin of your tits before squeezing it when his mouth crashed against your nipples, spraying the milk. Sukuna sometimes forget you're a human. You're delicate unlike. The strong force of the suction made you whine and moan so loudly, it vibrated through the walls of the bedroom.
"mhmm I did not know my beloved wife enjoyed such depraved acts," he smirked when his thighs brushed against your bare pussy. you were dripping wet.
"Don't worry, little one. Let me please you. Hope you have pumped out enough in that bottle of yours. Because, I am going to milk you dry today."
taglist: @aztecbrujeria @sachiyoh @hellkaiserinphoenix @his-saiko @kokonoiscoconut @numbinyourchest @shewritesallnight @valiantmilkshakekoala @oreo-creampie @kutabaka @gojoxxluv @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi @chronic-claire-universe @katsukichu @shutyourwhoremouthbecky @mostlyhornyandsad @leelee-66 @stargirlstabber
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#toji x reader#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#toji smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#geto suguru x reader#nanami kento x reader#tw.lactation#tw.pregnancy
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Wedded Bliss
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.
Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.
You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.
Frankly, you were mortified.
And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”
Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.
You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,
“Put it down.”
You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.
Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.
“Are we done?”
Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.
You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.
“Now darling—” he started.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Light of my life—”
“I’ll kill you.”
Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.
Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.
Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.
His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.
“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”
You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.
“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.
“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”
You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,
“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”
That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.
“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.
“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”
You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.
At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.
“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.
A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.
“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”
It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.
Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.
“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.
At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.
Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.
Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.
The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.
“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.
“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.
“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”
Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.
“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.
You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’
No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.
What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.
“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”
Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.
“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”
“I don’t fuck strangers.”
Bucky smiled at that.
“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.
Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.
“You like skylines?” he asked.
You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.
“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.
Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.
You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.
“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.
Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.
Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.
“James,” you hissed.
Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.
“Yes, dear?”
“Why are you undressing me?”
Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.
“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.
The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.
“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”
You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?
“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”
Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.
The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.
You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.
“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”
You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.
“James!”
Again with that name.
“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”
Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.
“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.
You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.
“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.
Like he’d read your mind.
In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.
“Just let it happen, honey.”
He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.
Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.
Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:
“N-no, Bucky.”
To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.
He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.
“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.
“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”
The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.
Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.
A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.
“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.
His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.
You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.
“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”
His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.
He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.
Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.
And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.
When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.
Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.
He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.
Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.
Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.
“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.
You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.
Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.
“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”
In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.
Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?
It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.
You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.
“Open the fucking door!”
He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.
Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.
One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.
You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.
Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.
You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.
“What are you doing?!” he roared.
You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.
He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.
“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”
No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.
The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.
“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.
“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:
Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!
Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.
“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.
Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.
“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.
He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.
“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”
That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.
“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”
His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.
You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.
The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.
“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.
“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.
Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.
This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.
Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.
“I’ve never had sex before.”
At last, the tie loosened a little.
Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.
“What?”
You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.
“You’re a virgin?”
You nodded.
“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”
“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”
He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.
“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.
As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.
You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.
You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.
Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.
Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.
He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:
“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”
Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.
“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.
“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.
For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.
While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.
How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.
Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.
Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.
Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.
Any minute now, he thought with some relief.
Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.
A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.
Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.
You barged in and froze.
“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.
Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.
Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.
Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.
He was only met with silence.
Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.
The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.
“James?”
Your voice almost pained.
A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”
Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.
Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.
“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.
Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.
“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”
If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.
Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.
Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.
“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.
Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.
You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.
You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.
“James.”
“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.
At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,
“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”
Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.
“Oh yeah?” he murmured.
You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.
“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.
You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.
You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.
His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.
Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.
“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.
“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.
“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.
Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.
A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.
He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.
Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.
No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.
“Are you sure it’ll fit?”
Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.
“Okay.”
Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.
You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.
Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.
Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.
His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?
When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.
Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.
You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.
Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.
Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.
Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.
You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.
Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?
Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.
Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.
Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.
You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.
He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.
“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”
He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.
You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.
“Keep going, I’m good.”
Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“N—”
“Don’t lie.”
You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.
“Aw hell.”
The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.
He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.
“I didn’t wanna interrup—”
“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”
“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”
Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.
“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”
Bucky eyed you incredulously.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.
You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.
“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.
“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”
It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.
The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.
When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.
“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”
He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.
When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.
The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?
Bucky paused. Swallowed.
The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.
“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.
Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.
“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.
This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.
Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.
“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.
“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.
He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.
“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.
You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.
“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.
Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.
“Doll, I’m so sorry.”
The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.
When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.
The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.
“Doing so good for me.”
“Stretching so nice for this cock.”
“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”
Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.
Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.
“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”
An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.
“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.
Your cheeks flushed.
“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”
‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.
“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.
You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.
“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”
You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.
“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”
Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.
“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”
You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.
“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.
Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.
Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.
“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.
“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.
“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.
“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”
Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.
Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.
You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.
“One more for me, honey.”
You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?
Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.
“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.
“Sure you can.”
Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.
His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,
“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”
With a command like that, how could you refuse?
You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.
Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.
But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.
It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.
The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.
“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.
You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.
“I love you.”
You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.
“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.
“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.
You would’ve liked to speak.
Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.
In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.
The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.
Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.
“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.
When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.
“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.
“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#mob bucky barnes#marvel smut#marvel x reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob bucky#mafia!bucky#mafia bucky barnes
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𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚
𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)
gojo x fem reader
Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…
𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)
all jjk men x fem reader 😭
Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.
𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)
geto x fem reader
You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.
𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)
toji x fem reader
The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".
𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)
toji x fem reader
sequel to a pearl!
After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?
𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)
toji x fem reader
you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?
𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)
gojo x fem reader
geto x fem reader
Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.
𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)
gojo x fem reader
geto x fem reader
sequel to a dangerous game
缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.
𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)
gojo x fem reader
toji x fem reader
sukuna x fem reader
A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.
𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)
gojo x fem reader
From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.
𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)
toji x fem reader
Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.
𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)
nanami x fem reader
Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.
𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)
sukuna x fem reader
You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.
𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)
i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader
The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.
𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)
sukuna x fem reader
Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.
𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)
toji x fem reader
Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...
𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)
gojo x fem reader
In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?
𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)
gojo x fem reader
sequel to violet lights
After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.
𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)
toji x fem reader
Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.
This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.
𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)
gojo x fem reader
This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.
𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici
(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)
has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(
please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3
i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚
#modern sukuna#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#dilf toji#toji zenin#satoru gojo smut#satoru smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jjk smut#jjk gojo#jjk sukuna#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#jjk x black reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu geto#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x reader#nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami smut#nanami x you
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꒰ :🥀 [ The radio star lost ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
Summary : Your husband was the feared serial criminal in New Orleans, Louisiana, and you where his dearly beloved wife, his right hand. So.. Oh what a despair was awaiting you soon..
Pairing : Human! Alastor x Wife! Reader
Word count : 3549 Words
Genre : Angst, Drama, Romance (a bit)
Warnings ➵ Murder, Swearing, Blood, Death, Guns,
Death penality, Corpses
a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Wife! Reader > Till death do us part < , seeing as this isn't really a continuation, but rather a prequel, it can be read as a stand-alone, hope ya'll still enjoy it just as much as the first part!♡
Another thing in advance, this is purely fiction and shall not be seen anywhere near reality, I do not condone anything in this and it's pureply based on fiction.
┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡
1933'
You were like Bonnie and Clyde. A criminal duo, invincible. Or so you thought.
Alastor, your beloved husband. The man you had known for almost two decades, married for almost one decade now. You loved him dearly, even with his little quirks and tendencies. He worked as a well-known and quite popular radio host in New Orleans. Yet he had a tendency for disposing of those he deemed right, you had helped him many times already. Having found out way before you even married him, how he was a murderer, yet you found it enticing, how his mind worked, who he deemed worthy to let go.
"Dear, the meal is almost ready!" You got pulled out of your thoughts by the soft voice of your husband. It was rather unusual for the man to cook in a marriage, but your relationship was far from ordinary, so you enjoyed it. His cooking was far better than yours after all. "I'm coming!" Standing up from the couch, you make your way over to the kitchen, there he was in all his glory. His brown hair was pushed back, glasses sitting on top of his head instead of resting on his nose, and sleeves pushed up to not get them dirty, ironic considering the amount of times he got them bloody. "It smells amazing my beloved! Thank you so much!" A quick peck was pressed to your husband's cheek, as you took a seat at the table, some amazing meal steaming on the table. Alastor puts his apron away, sitting down as he slides his glasses back onto his nose.
Dinner time was always one of your favorites during the day, enjoying a warm meal while talking to your husband about both of your days.
Just after you had finished dinner, your husband took a seat in front of the piano, letting his hands softly glide over the tiles. The instrument echoed with the soft tune he was playing. Walking behind him, you lay your arms around his neck softly, swaying your body a bit to the music he played. Alastor was a talented man with instruments, being able to play a few of them, the piano being one of them. Also quite talented with the violin. "Oh my darling, what a beautiful tune as always~" Humming along now. No one heard the screams coming from the basement. The desperate screams of your next victim.
"When we're talking about music right now my dearest, Mimzy invited us to her performance tomorrow! So how about we postpone our.. plans to the day after tomorrow?" No killing and instead going to Mimzy's show? Oh yes! "Oh, how lovely that sounds! Of course!" Agreeing to his proposal. But for now, you two get ready for bed, lying down in your shared bed.
Another one of your favorite times of the day, getting to lay down with him and finally rest, letting the stress and exhaustion of the day pass. "Did I ever tell you that I love you a lot?" Resting your head on your husband's chest now, who was silently reading a book, closing it now that you were talking to him. "Many times darling and I do love you a lot too~" Alastor knew his way around words for sure, he was such a sweet talker, but that's one of the things you appreciated about him. Raising your head to face him, you take a glance at his lips, before up into his eyes, you knew how he felt about touches he didn't initiate, right now you were only cuddling because he pulled you onto him. Chuckling lowly, he lowers his head down and captures your soft lips with his. Alastor's kisses mostly were soft, like a butterfly resting on your hand or like a spring breeze. Usually, his kisses were planted on your hand or cheek, but from now and then he gave you the satisfaction of a soft kiss on the lips, which always left you giggling like you were right now. Falling asleep in the safe embrace of your husband shortly after.
The next day went by smoothly. Alastor was busy with his work as a radio host, while you took care of the house and did some grocery shopping, meeting up with a few friends of yours over tea. Shortly before you went home for the day, you visited Alastors mothers grave to leave some flowers and clean it, you sadly never met her, but your husband tends to tell you a lot of stories about her. Sitting down by the grave for a minute, you tell her a bit about what Alastor has been doing, how you were loving his cooking and music as always. It was a habit of yours, you hoped she was listening to all the good things you were telling her about him. Taking your things after a while, you bid your goodbye to his mother's grave as you make your way back home. Putting away the groceries before starting to freshen up. Loving to take your time to get ready when you and Alastor decide to go out in the evening.
"Dearest I'm home!" Hearing the lovely voice of your husband calling from the door, answering him now, how you were getting ready. Putting on your favorite dress. It was made out of a beautiful deep red color with black lace all over it, a few gems here and there. Your best jewelry could of course not be missing, most of it you got from Alastor or your own mother. "Darling I'm ready! How far are you?" Exiting the bathroom now, searching for your husband and finding him in the kitchen with a glass of whisky. "Oh my, what do I see here? What a lovely gem you are darling!" Abandoning his glass, Alastor walks over to you, taking your hand as he twirls you around, before kissing the back of your hand. Clad in a black suit, his button-up shirt underneath dark red matching to your dress, while his bowtie was adorned with a red gem, he looked lovely. "My you also look lovely dearest! Definitely going to catch some eyes!" Hooking your arm in his now, you together leave the house and make your way to where Mimzy's show will be held.
Mimzy was a great friend of Alastor, a blonde gorgeous but short lady, who performed like no other. Arriving at the place, you were led to a table for the regulars, as Alastor and you were known by the staff by now. Ordering two drinks, as you await the show. Soon lights go out and Mimzy comes out, her singing and dancing amazing like always.
"Dollface! Pumpkin!" Mimzy's voice was booming as she approached your table, giving both of you an affectionate hug. You ended up talking with her for quite a while, telling her how amazing her performance was and that you were so glad that she invited you two again. Thanking you for your kind words, her attention quickly diverted to Alastor again. It was almost always like this, she said she liked both of you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that she did have a certain distaste for you. But you decided to let it slide like always, as you listened to Alastor tell Mimzy what you two were up to since you've last seen her.
Alastor of course started to notice how you were getting irritated by Mimzy and how she was only focusing on him. "My dear, I think my lovely wife is not feeling so well tonight, perhaps it would be better to take our leave now, still thank you for having us as always. Till the next time." Alastor stood up now as Mimzy stomped off with an annoyed face, extending his hand for you. Smiling at him softly as you take his hand and let him lead you outside. A shiver ran down your spine as your arms got goosebumps, a coat was soon placed over your shoulders, looking over to Alastor who watched you with a soft smile. "Dear, next time you feel uncomfortable please do tell me and we will leave immediately, you know how much I care for your comfort." Thanking him, you take his arm as he leads you through the park to your home, it was a little longer than walking through the streets, but it was calming to walk through nature together.
"Shall we head to bed? It's been a long day and evening." Taking the coat from your shoulders at home, he hangs it on the hanger beside the door. "I love that idea, let me tell you about my day in bed, I visited your mothers grave again." You were already walking to the room as you talked to him, so you weren't able to see his eyes follow you as they softened. It saddened him you never got to meet his mother, she would've loved you dearly, just as he does. Telling him all about what you told her before, how you left flowers and also cleaned her gravestone, as you settled into bed, as he was changing into his sleepwear. Alastor was so thankful for having a caring and lovely wife like you.
The night went by fast, today Alastor would finally have a day off from work, which meant a different kind of work today for both of you!
The steps down to the basement squeaked as Alastor put his weight on them, your heels making clicky noises as you followed him down a stark contrast in sound. And there sat the victim he deemed perfect for his next case. The screams would be recorded for his personal little collection. You were getting everything ready for him, it would be interesting to watch like always. Alastor changed so much when he killed, no shimmer or glimmer in his eyes, not how he looked at you, the soft gaze replaced with a blood thirsty one. Liking it quickly, you were soon getting rid of the victim, this time deciding to bury him in a forest, you opted for the forest a few times already even though it was a bit risky, it was the easiest to get rid of them. At home, Alastor decided to take a bath, as he told you to head to bed already with a kiss on your cheek.
When he joined you in bed, he looked relaxed, cuddling up to you. Murders always ended like this, it somehow made him so calm and affectionate with you. Placing a soft kiss on your neck, as his arms hold your waist. Your hand threaded through his brown soft locks, something you loved to do. For once your beloved husband fell asleep quicker than you, making you be able to watch him sleep, not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Alastor was often so stressed with work, yes he loved being a radio host, but it sometimes got to him. Rubbing your fingers over his cheek softly, then over the bags under his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Yourself slowly falling into dreamland.
Morning came way too quickly, Alastor was back to work, and while you decided to stay at home and do some housekeeping, a few rooms needed cleaning. A friend of yours stopping by to tell you how a new corpse was apparently discovered by the police, which is connected to the many murder cases lately. Tensing up a little bit when she told you how they discovered it in the forest after one of the farmers nearby saw some shadows in there. It couldn't be the corpse from last night, right? Simply agreeing with her that you would be careful, even telling her how your dear husband would never let something happen to you on his watch, which made her coo at your marriage, if only she knew..
Mid conversation your husband comes home, greeting you with a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves for the back of your home. Your friend leaves soon after, as you go and search for your beloved. Finding him in his office, gripping the table. You knew what was about to come.
"Dear?" Approaching him, Alastor pushes everything on his table off, papers scattering, a cup breaking as pens roll all over the floor. "They already discovered it.. HOW?! I was careful! Pathetic! How dare they! Are they making fun of me?!" Worried for your husband, yet you stood still, listening to him. "I had to talk about it today! At the broadcast! Act as if I was surprised! Haha! If only they knew! Right doll?!" Turning around, his eyes were darting around the room, before falling onto you, laughing as he took your hand to pull you in. "They really think they can discover us like this! US! They are worthless! Pathetic even! Oh my dear! We truly are the greatest!" He was twirling you around as if dancing now, despite no music playing. Only his mad monologue. You've dealt with this behavior a couple of times already, knowing to just let him act and talk for now as he pleased. "Oh, what a wonderful day my beloved! I will go and make my favorite dish for us now! How beautiful!" Leaving the room now, a skip in his step, as you bend down to clean up the mess your husband caused.
Joining him in the kitchen now, as he was softly humming to the radio as he was cooking his favorite, Jambalaya.
A knocking sounds from your door, looking up, you tell Alastor you are going to get it, and upon opening it you come face to face with a detective and a police officer. "Greetings ma'am, is your husband home?" His voice was deep, you nodded, leaning the door closed as you hurried into the kitchen to get your husband. "Greetings gentleman, how may I help you?" Alastor opened the door composed as ever, drying his hands from washing them with a clean towel, as he gave the men at the door a polite smile. You retreated back to the living room, still listening to their conversation. Asking him about the murder cases, why him? It was probably only because of the radio broadcast, right? Maybe his boss told him to talk about it without the detective's permission. As the door closes and Alastor is back in the kitchen, still calm as always as you join him. "Dear? What did they talk about?" Looking up at him with worry written all over your face, he turns to you. "Don't worry your pretty little head dearest, it was nothing to be mentioned! Smile dear, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Pushing the corners of your mouth up with his fingers now, making you smile, before shushing you out of the kitchen so he can cook. Not able to help it but worry, were you about to be figured out?
But over the course of the next few days it all calmed down again, no more police officers or detectives visiting you, which finally calmed your mind. Alastor meanwhile had found a new target, telling you about this man he met the other day and what bothered him. It was all back to normal now, which you were glad about. Till this one dreadful day.
Alastor and you made quick work of the man, your husband telling you to stay home this time to clean up and that he would take care of this on his own. You worried again, but he assured you that he would be quick, after cleaning up and getting rid of any evidence, you cleaned yourself and sat down to wait for your beloved. Yet after hours of not coming back, you grew anxious, desperate even to know what took him so long. As a knock echoes through your house, you rush to the door, opening it ready to scold your husband for taking so long, but your breath stops when a detective stands in front of you.. What happened?
He asked to enter your home, sitting you down on the couch as he took a seat opposite of you on the armchair. "Your husband got shot ma'am, he was burying a corpse, we assume him to be the serial killer at fault for so many murders lately. He passed away instantly, I'm sorry for your loss and to bring you this horrific and murderous news." Your ears were ringing. Huh? Shot? Was that man joking with you? Was he someone Alastor paid to prank you? No, he wasn't the type for these kinds of pranks. Tears were streaming down your face, burying it in your hands now, sobs shaking your whole body. If that stupid man just knew, knew how you helped your husband with everything! Stupid! "Ma'am I-" The detective started, when you darted up, grabbing the man by his hair and throwing him out of your house. "Get lost! Never show up again! Leave.. NOW!" Slamming the door shut now, he probably took this as a shock to knowing who your husband really was, but you knew that already for years. Sinking to your knees, your arms hug around you as your head hits the floor, screams and cries of agony echo through the now empty halls. Your husband, the man you loved so much was dead, just like this? What sick nightmare was this? Cries reduced to soft sobs when your throat started to hurt, by now your body was curled up into itself on the floor and like that, you fell asleep.
The next day you awoke to the sunlight, your body sore from crying and sleeping on the floor, looking around for a second, for Alastor before it doomed on you, he was dead. Shot like an animal.
Your mother accompanied you to identify your late husband, you of course clad in all black. His forehead is now adorned with a hole, the detective explaining to you that he was mistaken for a deer. Asking for some privacy from everyone, you were left alone in the room. If it wasn't for that damned hole he looked like he was simply sleeping, peacefully like the night before. Leaning down to press one last kiss to his temple. "I will always love you my dearest, for now and forever, till I join you in death."
Leaving the room, you didn't dare look back, you were going forward from now on, knowing that someday you would meet him again.
Your mother had offered for you to move back in with her, but you told her despite what he did, he was a lovely husband to you and that you weren't able to yet let go, which she understood. Back at your home, you sat down and just stared at the wall. Why did this have to happen? You could be cuddling together right now or enjoying a meal, but that would never be the case ever again. But you told yourself, swore yourself with that last kiss to his temple that you would carry on in his memory. And so you did, three more murders continued after your husband was dead, till you were discovered.
In front of the law, you were sentenced to the death due to having caused three murders yourself and helped with multiple, carried out by your late husband. You accepted it, not that anyone asked, but you would be seeing your husband again, at least you hoped you would. A few days later after the case was closed and you were sentenced, it happened.
1935'
"Alastor! Dearest! Charlie told me you wanted to see me?" Entering the radio tower with a bright smile, Alastor turned to you with his signature smile. "My beloved! You look lovely as always! Look at you, aren't you a little gem!" He was walking over to you, his red ears on his head bouncing slightly with each step he took. Closing your eyes now as he told you to do so, a sensation of something cold around your neck running through your body now. "Open up doll!" Opening your eyes and looking down, your eyes tear up. It was a necklace, that looked similar to one he gifted you on the first anniversary of your marriage. "Alastor.." Looking up at him, as a few tears escaped your eyes.
"Now now sweetheart, we don't want you crying hm? Smile dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" Giggling a little bit at that quote, he had used it so often when you two were alive. Not being able to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all around his face and lastly a big kiss on his lips, you would be apologizing for suddenly kissing him later, but right now you just needed to kiss him. "I'm glad you love it dearest!" His arms are around your waist now as he laughs at the tickling kisses placed on his face, starting to spin you around as with a snip of his fingers music starts to play.
Charlie and Vaggie watch the soft moment from the door, tears streaming from the blonde's face as her girlfriend pulls her away to give you two some privacy.
#hazbin hotel x reader#x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor imagine#alastor
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[3k] too many shots and a bet leads to a very interesting night out. it's just a shame neither of them can remember it and the whole world is discovering the details alongside with them.
series masterlist
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RING! RING!
The first thing you were painfully aware of was the annoying shrill of your phone echoing from some distant corner of the room.
RING! RING!
The second thing was the fact you had forgotten to close the blinds last night, meaning the blinding rays of the Nevada sun were doing their best job in dragging you out of your comforting slumber like irritating parasites.
RING! RING!
And the third thing was that whoever was trying to call you was seemingly very insistent to get in contact with you, if the three calls in a row (that you were so far aware of) were anything to go by.
RING! RING!
“Oh my god,” you groaned as you pulled the edges of the pillow over your ears, hoping it would muffle the ringing shrills. But when the phone continued to ring and the noise only seemed to get louder, you were forced to throw your hand out and blindly try to grasp the cursed device in hopes of making the noise stop.
Your fingers wrapped around the buzzing phone, your eyes still firmly kept shut as you kept tapping the screen until the ringing stopped before you brought it to your ear. “You better have a good fucking reason for calling me.”
“I hope you are doing something you enjoy.”
You frowned, your brain taking a few moments to process the voice coming through. “Arthur?”
“Like, I hope you are fulfilling your lifelong wish right now.”
“What the fuck are you on about?” You grumbled, exhaustion hitting your body just as badly as the rays of sunlight shining through the open blinds were. “It’s too early for your riddles.”
“I am just saying that I think you should be doing something you love before Charles kills you.”
You let out a non-committing hum. “And why would he kill me?”
“Many reasons but I think getting married in Vegas last night is easily the top of the list right now.”
Your eyes shot open when you heard the words leave Arthur’s mouth. It felt like ice had doused your entire body as you quickly sat up in the hotel bed, now painfully aware of the pounding headache that only tequila could give you.
“WHAT?”
“Congrats, by the way. I do pity the poor guy you locked up though.”
Now painfully aware of the situation, your eyes grabbing onto any detail that would hopefully prove your brother wrong. Unfortunately, all you seemed to find was evidence that he was telling the truth if the white dress, the horribly large costume jewelry ring on your finger and the abandoned veil with ‘NEW BRIDE’ on the floor were anything to go by.
“Oh my fucking god,” you breathed out, feeling though as you were going to empty your stomach’s contents any moment now. “How do you know? Why didn’t you stop me?!”
“I wasn’t with you! I just opened Twitter and found pictures of my sister outside a wedding chapel and all over some random guy!”
“I married a stranger,” you hissed out, your lips parting in shock. Tequila made you do many questionable things, but even this was bad for you.
“He’s your husband, it’s a bit offensive to call him a stranger.”
“Arthur, I swear to god—” You cut yourself off as your eyes fell on the large lump in the bed next to you. It took you an embarrassingly long time to realise it was another human. It took you even longer to tear your eyes away from the cheap suit he was wearing before you looked up at his face. “Oh my fucking god.”
“What?”
“Charles is going to kill me,” you breathed out, your heart pounding like it was lodged in your throat.
“Yes, we established that when I called you—”
“Charles is going to kill me when he finds out I married Max,” you continued, lost in your own daze that you barely acknowledge your spluttering brother on the other side of the phone.
“YOU MARRIED MAX VERSTAPPEN?!”
Unfortunately for Arthur’s sake, you quickly hung up the phone. You could barely process the fact the Dutch driver was currently passed out on the bed next to you, let alone doing so with your brother screeching in your ear the whole time. The phone was abandoned on the bed as you stared at the Dutchman, your brain working on overdrive as you tried to work out what to do next.
So, you did what any reasonable person would do and shoved him off the bed.
“OW!”
You froze for a moment before you crawled over to the other side of the bed, peaking over the edge and down at Max who was currently groaning on the floor from his impromptu wake up call.
“What the fuck was that about?” He grumbled, blinking a few times before he realised who was hovering over him. “What the fuck are you doing in my hotel room?”
“This is actually my hotel room,” you replied.
“Oh,” he muttered. “Then, what the fuck am I doing in your hotel room?”
“Well, it’s what a married couple do,” you commented.
Max’s brows furrowed together. “What?”
You lifted your left hand, the ring now on display and you could practically see the cogs turning in his head before the realisation hit him. “Do you think this counts as our honeymoon?”
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
...
...
“How did this happen?”
“Tequila,” you muttered with your nose scrunched in disgust as you watched the Dutchman begin to pace the hotel room. If you cared enough, you would be concerned about him wearing down the carpet. Though as of the current moment, your priorities were currently elsewhere.
Max turned to look down at the certificate he had found stranded beside your veil on the floor, your names and signatures clearly printed on the piece of paper—which took out the small piece of hope that this was just some elaborate prank set up by Arthur.
“How did we get that drunk though?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together. If he wasn’t so confused, he would be more embarrassed at the fact he clearly couldn’t handle his alcohol as well as he once could.
“Well, it’s your fault,” you commented casually, which had the boy whirling around to face you.
“How is this my fault?” Max scoffed.
“You made the bet!”
Max’s frown deepened. “What bet?”
“At the hotel bar,” you stated like it was a basic fact he should have remembered. “When I bumped into you—”
“We bumped into each other,” Max chided.
“—you were the one to suggest shots,” you pointed out.
Max gave you a look. “How is that a bet?”
“Because you said I couldn’t outdrink you. I said you would be a sore loser. And then you bought us ten shots each.”
He blinked. “Huh.”
“I’m pretty sure it was also your idea to go to another bar afterwards when we got kicked out the hotel bar,” you said in a sing-song voice.
Max scoffed. “Absolutely not. You were the one that said only losers go to bed after one bar.”
You shrugged. “I stand by it.”
Max let out a laugh, a little breathless like he was trying to hide it. He shook his head, glancing down at the certificate one more time before shrugging. “It’s not really that bad, to be honest. A bit embarrassing, but what people don’t know won’t hurt them.”
Your expression turned sheepish. “About that…”
“Who knows?” He asked in a blunt voice.
“Well, Arthur knows,” you started.
“That’s not that bad,” Max scoffed, his shoulders relaxing. “Wait. Charles doesn’t know, does he?”
“Not yet,” you said before quickly continuing. “But he probably will because the paparazzi caught us last night and now the pictures are all over the internet.”
Max blinked. “AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO START WITH THAT?”
“You’re grumpy when you wake up!” You defended, watching as the boy rolled his eyes at you.
“The whole world thinks we are married!” Max countered before sputtering out a laugh. “Well, we are married. Or we aren’t. I’m still not totally sure but I don’t need your brother chopping off my balls over it!”
“He wouldn’t!”
Max shot you a look.
“Okay, he would,” you grimaced before giving him a shaky smile. “But he doesn’t know yet so we should be in the clear—”
BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!
...
...
“Okay, I have good news and bad news.”
Max looked at you expectantly. “And?”
“Bad news: Charles now knows,” you said with a shaky smile. “Good news: he doesn’t know it’s you!”
Max pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to rub soothing circles. “Fucking hell.”
“But also bad news: he is coming here right now as we speak so we should probably—” You started, fully set on grabbing what you needed and hiding out somewhere else in the hotel until Charles calmed down. However, your plans were put on hold when you heard a groan from the bathroom.
“CAN YOU BOTH PLEASE SHUT UP?”
Your gaze caught Max’s as you stared at each other, both with expressions mixed between confusion and surprise. A few seconds passed before you were both clambering off the bed, heading towards the bathroom where you threw the door open and scrambled to turn on the light before you both froze in the doorway at the sight in front of you.
“Now that was unnecessary.”
You gaped at the sight of Yuki curled up in the bathtub, dressed in a similar looking suit to the one Max was wearing along with what you were certain was the shower curtain placed over him like a blanket. He had a pillow behind his head and sunglasses over his eyes, and for all intents and purposes, he looked fairly comfortable.
“Oh my god,” you breathed out. “I married two drivers last night?!”
“I hope you at least married me before Yuki,” Max grumbled, only to let out a small wince when you elbowed him. “God, you’re a difficult wife.”
“Kinda going through something,” you snapped back before your eyes moved back to the Japanese driver. “I can’t believe I married you and Yuki.”
The driver in the tub let out a scoff mixed with a laugh. “Please, you didn’t marry me. You’re not my type.”
You blinked, unsure whether or not you should have been offended by his comment.
“The ring on your finger says otherwise, mate,” Max commented, the ring a matching one with the one that was currently on your left hand.
“I married someone but not you,” Yuki said as he waved you off, nuzzling his face back into the pillow. “And our wedding was much classier than yours.”
“I—” You frowned. “You remember?”
“Yeah, you said you wanted witnesses,” Yuki grumbled, bringing the shower curtain up until it was tucked under his chin. “You also dragged Lando out so he would take your photos.”
Max gaped. “Lando was there? Lando knows?!”
“Yes, now can you please go bother him?” Yuki muttered under his breath. “And turn the lights off as you leave. Only wake me up when you order food.”
...
...
“Don’t make me an accomplice in your crimes.”
“Shut up and let us in.”
You weren’t surprised to find that Lando and Logan were already in the room, both with looks of amusement on their faces as they watched you and Max wander in—still dressed in your wedding clothes from the night before.
You wanted to slap the smug looks off their face.
“Is it really a good idea to hide here?” Max asked as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling as though the headache pounding through his head had nothing to do with the alcohol he consumed last night and more to do with the mess you both had created.
“It buys us time,” you insisted.
“On the chance that Arthur doesn’t rat you out,” Logan added.
“You told Arthur where I was?” Your eyes widened before you turned to look at Oscar. “Do you want me dead?”
“You know, something about the way you’re wording that makes me feel like it’s a trick question,” Oscar commented with a suspicious look on his face.
“Oh my god, I’m going to die today,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head.
“It’s kinda romantic that you guys will die together,” Lando chimed in as he grinned between you and Max.
“If I survive today, I’m going to run you over,” Max threatened with a strained smile on his lips.
Lando snorted, shrugging. “Yeah but the chances of that happening are low so…”
“Your brother doesn’t even know my room number,” Oscar pointed out. “It will take him ages to convince the desk to give it to him or even hunt—”
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“This is what English teachers meant when they taught us poetic irony,” Lando laughed, all giddy and happy.
“Like you paid attention,” you grumbled, eyes narrowing on the boy before you turned back to the door. “Don’t answer it.”
Oscar’s eyes widened. “I can’t not answer it.”
“Yes, you can,” you said bluntly. “Just don't open the door.”
“He knows we are in here,” he hissed.
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“OPEN UP! I CAN HEAR YOU! SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD—”
“Even more reason not to open the door,” you said, pressing your lips together to hide the wince that you wanted to let out as Charles thumped on the door again.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Max grumbled as he quickly stood up, ignoring your pleas to just pretend your brother didn’t exist. He reached the door, yanked it open and braced himself for the wrath of an angry Charles Leclerc.
Much to his surprise, the Monegasque barged straight past him and headed straight for Oscar instead.
“You!” Charles gritted out through clenched teeth as he reached to grab Oscar’s collar, firsting the material in his hands. “What do you have to say to yourself?”
Oscar’s eyes widened as Charles backed him into a wall. “What?!”
“Marrying my sister in Vegas? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Charles continued.
It didn’t take long for Lando to descend into a fit of giggles, practically on the floor if it weren’t for the fact Logan was keeping him on the bed. Somewhere still standing by the door, Arthur stood with an amused look on his face that only grew wider when he saw your confused and shocked expression too.
“I didn’t marry your sister!” Oscar said to him, trying to push the boy away but he was latched on tightly. “I was literally in bed by nine!”
“Loser,” Logan grumbled under his breath.
Charles faltered, his eyebrows furrowing together. “What?”
“I wasn’t the guy to marry your sister,” Oscar repeated, finally managing to pull Charles’ hands off him. “I don’t think there is enough alcohol in the world for me to do that.”
“First Yuki and now him,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“If you didn’t marry her, then who did?” Charles questioned.
It was almost comical how quickly everyone turned to look at Max, who was still standing by the door and looked like he was contemplating just dashing out the room.
“You,” Charles muttered out, his eyes narrowing on the Dutchman.
“In my defence,” Max started as he gave the boy a smile, though it didn’t seem as confident as he was hoping it would be. “I didn’t know I married her either.”
“I am right here,” you huffed. “Jesus Christ.”
“I am going to—”
“Nothing. You’re going to do nothing,” you jumped in, taking a step so you were blocking his line of vision of Max. “It’s just a…phoney, fake marriage. It’s not that big of a deal, Charles. People will forget by next weekend anyways.”
“Uh,” Logan cleared his throat. “It’s actually very legal all over the US and in some other places—”
“Shut up, Logan.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Charles narrowed his eyes on you. “You’re not allowed to marry him.”
“I already did,” you pointed out with a sheepish expression.
“I don’t care.”
“Charles,” you stepped towards him, though the boy still looked like he was contemplating parading into the paddock with Max’s head on a stick. “Charlie, please. Don’t do something stupid because you’re annoyed.”
“I want to cut his dick off,” Charles told you.
“I know.”
“And you can no longer have alcohol unsupervised.”
“That’s a tad dramatic.”
“And no consummating the marriage.”
“That would be difficult to do if you cut off his dick anyways.”
“Can we stop talking about my dick?” Max chimed in with his hands locked in front of him, almost protectively.
Charles sighed. “But I promise I won’t kill either of you. Today.”
You grinned as you reached towards your brother, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”
“You should tell Maman before she finds out through the internet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Maybe shower first. You stink of tequila.”
“That would be kinda hard to do considering Yuki is currently asleep in my bathtub,” you commented.
Charles opened his mouth to reply but just shook his head. “I’m not even gonna ask.”
“Good, because I don’t have answers,” you murmured with your lips turned down. “And he’s really snappy when you try to get them from him.”
Charles snorted.
“So, that’s it?” Lando suddenly spoke up from behind you both. “God, that was not worth getting out of bed for. I expected more drama.”
“I’m still pissed at you,” you told the Brit, who just grinned.
“I’ll send you the photos later, don’t you worry,” he said like he didn’t just hear the words that left your mouth. “Maybe one of them will inspire angry Charles again.”
“Please don’t,” Max grumbled.
“It won’t be necessary because we are finding a divorce lawyer,” Charles stated simply, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head before he began making his way to the door, nodding for Arthur to follow him. “Both of you get dressed. We are leaving in an hour.”
Both you and Max gaped at the boy, but he didn’t notice.
“And someone take one for the team and wake up Yuki. I vote Lando.”
Lando frowned. “Woah, wait a second–”
“ONE HOUR PEOPLE!!”
...
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 133,728 others
yourusername call me mrs verstappen
view all 12,892 comments
oscarpiastri sometimes i wonder if you just enjoy pushing charles over the edge
yourusername yes
user WHAT
user it was real?????
user oh my god IT WAS MAX?
user someone sedate me
user this is some wattpad level stuff wtf the book tropes????
user i need to know how charles reacted when he found out
arthur_leclerc badly
maxverstappen1 i mean it was an accidental name but i guess it suits you
yourusername you like meeeee, admit it :)
maxverstappen1 i think i legally have to agree because you're my wife
yourusername damn don't sound too enthusiastic about it
user i just know charles lost years of his life over this
landonorris uh photo creds?
yourusername no
landonorris rude
charles_leclerc take this down
yourusername no
charles_leclerc you are a leclerc, not a verstappen
yourusername the marriage certificate says otherwise
charles_leclerc please stop reminding me
pascaleleclerc welcome to the family maxverstappen1
charles_leclerc MAMAN?????
maxverstappen1 thank you? i think?
pascaleleclerc dinner will be at 6 when you are back in monaco
maxverstappen1 yes ma'am
charles_leclerc MAMAN WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON????
.
#max verstappen#formula one#f1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen fic#max verstapppen one shot#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one one shot#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 one shot
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EX HUSBAND WRIOTHESLEY
— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband wriothesley headcanons
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife", a little sad, unprotected syx, hitting it raw, very rough fucking lmao, love sick & feral wriothesley, very messy too
ex! husband wriothesley who will hesitantly accept your upsetting decision to file for divorce, and to nullify your earnest promise— nonetheless, it's evident that it was crushing him through the very inside, the pain your words caused had invited him to explore the enormity of sorrow. however, do not be fooled because he won't show it to you, meaning his pure and real emotions, instead wriothesley will decide to verbally jester around about the current happening to brighten up an otherwise daunting interaction between two past lovers.
it was to no avail, the agony festering on his facial expressions and there was nothing in his life worth remembering other than you and a concealed shade of his past— yet, the last thing he'd want to happen was to lose you entirely, signifying that if he was to put his foot down and tell you that he doesn't want the divorce to happen, it probably doesn’t mean much after all.
ex! husband wriothesley who will reminisce about past events in front of you, your first kiss or that one particular date where he asked you to marry him, just small, little details about you that only your ex husband knew of— but, he'll do it in a subtle way, sneakily sprinkling it into a conversation in hopes you'd get a dash of sudden yearning as well— the same he did whenever he casted his mind back towards the good, old days.
ex! husband wriothesley who will speak in riddles to you, keep his quick-witted demeanor in order to fool you into thinking that he was doing quite well after the divorce was fulfilled— and his intentions weren't in wanting to make you feel bad, sorrowful or even jealous. no, not at all. in fact, he thought that if he was to hide his raw emotions and genuine feelings in front of you, you wouldn't feel awful about your decision and were able to continue living a normal life, yet without him.
ex! husband wriothesley who promised you that he will take off the ring that symbolized your once passionate marriage— but will behind your back grab a necklace to loop it inside the precious metal, so he could always wear the ring around his neck, secretly hiding it from your eyes to see while holding on to it whenever he found himself in trouble, or saddened.
ex! husband wriothesley who feels helplessly confused still, harshly drawing back for air as he let a brittle thread of a nervous laughter go when you suddenly ask him if he wanted to remain friends with you, which— in truth, he didn't, and the second after you proposed that insane idea to him he thought you must be joking, or that you surely must've lost your mind (which would make the divorce explainable).
it goes without saying that the real reason as to why the duke didn't seek out to befriend you, had nothing to do with the feelings he harbors towards you suddenly dissolving, it's quite the opposite because he was so helplessly in love with you, archons, he was bloody obsessed with you.
certainly, he thought that such friendship between two past lovers would only cause injury to you both in the end, for the main part to you who he cared the utmost about.
aside from the fact that even now, when he notices how you steadily keep your distance from him, at all times, it breaks him from within.
how cold it was when all ex! husband wriothesley sought after was your gentle caress and delicate kisses, he longed for an opportunity to just swiftly hush you with one step, raw and earnest trapping you against his strong arms while pressing his lips on top of yours when— oh, he does it again, he was indulging in fantasy, gradually yielding to an alternative version of you two ending up together.
in the duke's own words, he believed that love should be warm, a sweet addiction, a magic gifted by the universe, so why— just what had went so terribly wrong that he was struggling to understand it? you should just say you do not care for him, tell him you feel nothing so he can walk away, or maybe, regardless he will stay.
ex! husband wriothesley who despite you both being apart now, remains faithful to you, protective and nurturing to your every needs— because it was simple as that— for the duke, you are his shining sun, and will still remain it to his dying day.
to his crushed and painful body, your caressing trace was his only medication, and your smile? it was the light to his broken heart, for that is what he had called a warm love.
ex! husband wriothesley who noticed how the natural warmth surrounding his body had but faded completely as his mind began to gather around great negativities— perhaps he was flawed and that's the reason you left him all along, cursed to feel the deep sadness slither through his veins like a freezing liquid conquering his body as he shuts himself off for a while, until he can recollect himself again that is.
ex! husband wriothesley who had inappropriate thoughts enter his mind whenever he thought about you— here is to note that he utterly disliked the way his brain just so happened to work and how he wasn't able to shake off those strong and vivid fantasies playing in his mind on repeat.
but how can he not dream about his wife? well, ex-wife, which in his memories was pressed under his large figure exposed with your breasts on full display, his hips working constantly to please you just the way he knew you liked it.
because you see, the duke knew your body, in and out, one might even assume he knows it better than you do. and he still has a couple of your panties left in his drawer— in fact, he wanted to return them, please believe him, but he found himself to be quite busy these past weeks that he must've simple forgotten to do so.
ex! husband wriothesley who at some point, cannot live like this anymore and was desperate to see you again. after your marriage had crushed, you weren't visiting the fortress of meropide anymore and as the duke was rarely leaving it himself, it could've been the perfect situation to move on from each other, yet he simply could not do that, not when you were constantly on his mind.
ex! husband wriothesley who will find courage and leave the fortress to visit you at your new place, in fact, the mere sight of the duke exiting the underworld was rarely seen, so the guards figured that it must be of graven importance— as invisible and weightless as your love for him might be for now, in the middle of the night he walks out to find you, taking in a last view at the fortress before an itching impatience got the better of him.
he just had to see you, now.
ex! husband wriothesley who will show up at your doorstep and suddenly admit that he cannot do this anymore, that he felt incredibly miserable and heartbroken, confessing his undying love and affection towards you, using words he had once spelled out to you the night you had gotten married.
"night and day, i dream of you," wriothesley yells, as if there had been nothing left to his choice, the sight of your glowering eyes and those soft, frowning lips he just misses to kiss.
"and there is not one corner on this world that you could possibly travel to in order to free me from this torture," he adds forbiddingly.
through dark eyelashes, wriothesley stares at sudden tears welling up in your glassy eyes, a sharp amenity invading your cheeks as he places his palms on top of them in order to brush your warm tears away. "you're mine," he said, the corners of his mouth slightly quirking upwards, his hot breathing lingering around your gasping lips, "and not even a divorce can change that."
ex! husband wriothesley who places a delicate splatter of warm and passionate kisses on top of your lips the moment you pull him by the collar of his shirt, his surprised growl turning into a stifled cry when you wrap your arms around his neck in order to keep him close to you, together stumbling into the coziness of your home as one hand was firmly placed against your back, his mouth eagerly parting as your lips welcome the teasing slide of his tongue lapping across your own.
ex! husband wriothesley who will hiss upon revelling in your soft fingers tracing over his twitching muscles when you undress each other, his disheveled hair accentuated with a fond smile as his hands trail down the sides of your face, leaning his hungry lips against yours again, the lingering, familiar scent of your fragrance penetrating his nostrils turning him needier, on the brink of passing out.
ex! husband wriothesley who loves hearing you only reply in soft and crumbled whimpers of his name slipping past the edges of your tongue as he cannot wait to feel you— fuck, and neither can you wait to feel him again, a clashing pressure on your hot core narrowing the space between your bodies as he lines himself up with you, your nails slithering down his chiseled back as he slides into you abruptly, your neglected cunt instantly welcoming him.
and you squeal out in pleasure as he thrusts into you, the maddening scent of his musky perfume persisting around your shivering frame as wriothesley hooks one leg over his shoulder, the squelching sounds of your wet sex echoing throughout the entire bedroom just signalizing how much you must've missed him as well, his addicting gaze always flickering across the way your body reacted to him.
ex! husband wriothesley who shoves himself further into your soft cunt— and you're just so unbelievably cute and adorable at your desperate attempts to silence those candid whines and mewls of his name. one of his hands was now placed on the headboard for additional support as to not suddenly suffocate you with his large body towering above before he increases the pace on your cunt, setting for a deep and fast rhythm that would surely stay engraved in your walls even after he's done.
ex! husband wriothesley who kisses you like a starved animal as your tears tickle the soft features on his face, your hidden emotions running wild at the sheer passion he unlocked in you, his erection throbbing harder as he groans into your lips, triggering every last one of your nerves in your body and infusing them with persisting vibrations— now, you're gasping at the lack of oxygen in your lungs as his constant thrusts into you drove you deeper into the mattress, if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been caged in between your bed and wriothesley's frame towering on top.
ex! husband wriothesley who chokes back a desperate growl as he sought out further friction, growing feral, then hissing sharply as his sensitive cockhead reaches into your deepest parts, his shaft all the way sucked in by your used pussy lubricating him so he can ram himself in and out of you harder, slick pooling out of your hole whenever he pulls out only to press back inside with one quick snap.
ex! husband wriothesley who worships your body, making you feel every thick vein as it throbs violently against your walls, your thudding hole making him lose his mind on how you're convulsing while he curls into you— your swollen cunt tensing and releasing, grinding up a little as thick, white cum gathers at the base of his cock, his mesmerizing eyes glued on the creamy spot that was showing him just how much you enjoyed this too.
ex! husband wriothesley who resumes his fast tempo, your teeth rattling with every new impact of his hips bouncing against your flesh blanking your mind into pure paradise— your moving bodies couldn't stop anymore as you're fucking each other well over the limits of your endurance, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth as wriothesley was fucking your cunt desperately, unhinged and making it a point to rock your hips in and out along a particular angle that you'd always squeeze over the rigid veins prancing on the underside of his shaft.
ex! husband wriothesley who exhales heavily when you tell him that you're close, his hips pressing and digging into your sensitivity once more before lifting you off the mattress, chasing your relief like a wild beast that he so graciously wanted to see unfold— low profanities and fast tumbles of his name falling from your lips as your thighs begin to shake and ache, your throat turning dry— you're done for, and wriothesley just fits so perfectly in you, into every curve, every spongy spot and every bump inside that you're so painfully full, crowded and overflowing of his thick shaft.
you're hiccuping due to the pressure he presses into your sensitivity as you're way beyond your own limits now, at last feeling a twitch and quake as your body pleads to cum, his grueling thrusts aiding you when you violently convulse around his length, a sharp intake of breath breaking every other noise in the room when you cum all over his cock, your orgasm hitting you hard, wriothesley continuing with slow, language thrusts until you've rode out your high.
the duke was being eager to watch it all happen, something primal at the back of his mind manifestikg when the sudden constriction of your fluttering hole made him grunt lowly against your ear, rolling his hips nearly painfully hard between your legs before dragging himself away, cumming inside of your walls and marking you up for good with his warm, sticky cum.
ex! husband wriothesley who watched you being short of breath, and couldn’t resist looking at the mess between your legs, your abused cunt twitching around his girth as your pussy flutters around nothing, your legs were quivering with a combination of your essence and his seed oozing out of your hole, staining the silky bedsheets.
ex! husband wriothesley who'll press himself back into you with one sharp snap, leaving his cock in so you could clench and throb, small thrusts turning sloppy and sticky with his dampened bangs glued on his forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose before embracing your pouty lips again, your mouth partly open as you whine out, your sensitivity spiraling of his cock still being nestled in you, his shaft already hard and thick again, your battered cunt jolting underneath him.
wriothesley smiles, "it is maddening, how much you consume my very being, my love." and speaks through his heart.
© 2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley smut#genshin x you#wriothesley x you#genshin impact x you#genshin drabbles#genshin impact drabbles#genshin headcanons#genshin impact headcanons
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ex-husband!gojo, who wakes up every morning to his disappointment. it's been well over a couple months, yet he still extends his arm to feel for you.
ex-husband!gojo, who still has your contact saved as his main emergency contact. he uses this to his advantage— ringing your phone with the excuse of being "too drunk to drive." it works. he isn't exactly high off his brain, but he has alcohol in his system.
ex-husband!gojo, who happened to spot you with another man. who is he? is he your friend? your lover? perhaps you met after the divorce? whatever the status is, it doesn't help to soothe his jealousy. it's not like he can walk up to you — you might issue a restraining order against him.
ex-husband!gojo, who finds himself at your doorstep. it's late, storming, and you're probably asleep. he doesn't move. mind set in chaos as he ponders whether he should leave or ring the bell. he wants to see you, but the look of disgust he might receive is something he isn't ready to face.
ex-husband!gojo, who's shocked that you opened the door. he didn't ring the bell. were you already there? probably. his throat ran dry, unable to speak a word. you're leaning on the door's frame, arms crossed as you tilt your head. "you need something, gojo?" you asked, not willing to receive an answer.
"can i — can i come in?" he stutters, a little shocked at the use of his surname. the little sparkle of hope that you continue using his first name has been dusted.
ex-husband!gojo, who's fidgety in your home. your silence isn't helping him relax. hell, he hasn't known relaxation ever since the divorce. "help yourself to the kitchen. sleep wherever, i'm going back to bed," your voice held no volume of softness. it was as if you were but a stranger, yet he refuses to let you become one.
"then, may i sleep in your room? on the floor, of course," he's hesitant with his request, deciding it's best to justify himself, "i don't know my way around this house."
ex-husband!gojo, who's yet again stunned that you allowed him in your room — let alone your bed. now he's as still as a stick, unable to fall asleep due to his itching urge to pull you into him. you're most likely sound asleep, uncaring to the man you once called your husband.
ex-husband!gojo, who calls out to you, keeping his voice low as he speaks, "can we talk?"
you replied to him, voice still holding its tone of harshness, "what is there to talk about?"
"anything. how's life been for you?" he keeps his speech short, afraid of annoying you. it's a little late for that, however. you're already annoyed by the attempt of useless talks. "just get to the point, gojo."
and so he follows, sighing before he reveals his intentions, "i fucking missed you, that's all."
ex-husband!gojo, who's surprised when you sat up. although your room holds no light due to the black-out curtains, his eyes adjusted to its darkness, being able to see your every feature. your face, hands, neck, collarbone, chest — everything. he misses being able to run his hands through your body ever-so lovingly. when you lowered yourself right above his face, his eyes kept your gaze. your jaw's clenched. why does he look as if he lost everything? wasn't the divorce mutual?
ex-husband!gojo, who's rendered speechless when your voice cracked. he didn't expect it, nor did he expect you to say what you did. "i missed you, too." did you really miss him? he feels as though he's being lied to. raising a hand to cup your cheek, he shares his words, "really? then why not act on it if you're not lying?"
ex-husband!gojo, who happily accepts your kiss, moving his hand from your cheek to your nape. softly pushing you closer to himself — and to deepen the kiss. it's soft but rough. passionate but seeping with hatred. it's everything at once. you're pulling at his hair, purposefully tugging it as if you're using it to distract yourself from the escaping emotions. he's the same. using his other hand to travel along the junction of your neck and shoulder, squeezing it each time he feels to let the tears flow.
#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk angst#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo angst#gojo satoru headcanons#jjk headcanons
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
☒ Part One Part Three
☒ Summary: Vox was getting too attached to you. You should have noticed it sooner when he began treating you with more consideration than anyone else. But you assumed it was all an act. You were sorely mistaken. You hoped that Alastor had a plan to get you out of this arrangement.
☒ Warnings: wife!reader, she/her pronouns used, angst with slight comfort, strong hints of vox being in love with the reader, vox kisses reader on the forehead, alastor and the reader actually kiss and hug, lucifer is silly in this, jealous!alastor, reader expierencing a lot of conflicting emotions, lots of inner turmoil
☒ Word Count: 2,166
The ride back to Vox Tec Headquarters was quiet. However, Vox held onto you tightly the whole ride home.
Home? Is that what you consider this godforsaken place now?
You lost your way, and seeing your husband tonight after several years reminded you of what once was your home.
"Who" your home was; Alastor.
But that resentment you had for him still lingered in your heart.
It would be a lie if you said you hadn't gotten accustomed to Vox's company. Even now, he helped you out of the car. Holding your hand tightly all the way up to your bedroom. Vox was a gentleman when it came to you. He respected your privacy, turning his back while you changed into something more comfortable. But he was also possessive, and that struck fear within you.
He was soft-spoken while he tucked you into your bed. The same bed that Vox picked out specifically for you. He knew what colors, what patterns, and what textures you liked. Taking it all into account when he bought you your blankets and clothing and accessories.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Vox cooed, rubbing your arm softly. He sat at the side of your bed, eyes locked with yours. You tensed from his touch. The conflict between appreciating his gentle caress and knowing it was wrong to feel that way made guilt pool in your gut.
"I'm fine," You lied, averting your gaze from his. Vox's touch trailed lower, giving your hand a firm squeeze before he stood. "It's been a long day for you. Try to get some rest." He spoke calmly. Turning his back toward you before making his way to your bedroom door.
"V-Vox," You called out, stopping him in his tracks before he could take his leave. "Yes, sweetheart?" He turned to face you, offering you a welcoming smile. You balled the duvet up in your hand. The same one the man standing before you hand-picked for you. "Thank you for respecting my wishes today." You whispered before turning on your side. Not wanting to see Vox's expression to your earnest words.
The room was silent for a few beats. Making you feel as though Vox was seeing right through your lies. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you squeezed your eyes shut. Hoping that he would either reply or take his leave already. Your train of thought was cut off when you felt a set of lips press against your forehead. Vox's lips.
"Anything for you, sweetheart." Before you could process the kiss Vox gave you, he was gone. You turned around the moment your bedroom door closed shut.
Fuck. You were in deep shit.
Vox was getting too attached to you. You should have noticed it sooner when he began treating you with more consideration than anyone else. But you assumed it was all an act. You were sorely mistaken.
You hoped that Alastor had a plan to get you out of this arrangement.
Alastor paced around his suite, wracking his brain on how to free you of your contract. Being on a leash himself kept him constricted in some ways, but there had to be a loophole. The Radio Demon tried to keep his composure, but knowing that his beloved wife had been confined by Vox, of all people, was unacceptable.
He never thought you would fall prey to someone as pitiful as Vox. But Alastor also knew that his vanishing without a word didn’t leave you with many options. He ached for you, truly. The Radio Demon loved you with everything he had. Even the parts of himself that never saw the light of day. Alastor’s deepest thoughts and emotions were all reserved for you.
“Hey Alastor, you in here?” The door swung open quicker than The Radio Demon could see. Alastor quickly straightened upright, clearing his throat before addressing The Princess of Hell. Who just so happened to barge into his room. “What is it?” Alastor beamed painfully wide as his patience wore thinner by the second. He didn’t have time for Hotel duties at the moment. You were his top priority.
“Sorry to barge in, but... my dad is here! Just wanted to keep you in the loop!” Charlie exited without another word. She sensed an air of malice and wanted no part of it. Alastor was a feared overlord, and she retained a handful of horror stories about The Radio Demon himself.
A lightbulb went off in his head. This was perfect- Lucifer was the answer to breaking your contract with Vox. All he would have to do was get on The King of Hell’s good side. Alastor let his shadows carry him to the foyer, being met by the sight of none other than Lucifer himself. “Uh, Charlie! Who is this?” The short man shot Alastor a pointed look. “Alastor! It’s a pleasure, quite a pleasure indeed!” The Radio Demon shook Lucifer’s hand firmly. Biting back the insults he wanted to utter due to The King of Hell’s stature. Opting to play nice for the sake of your soul.
“Yeah, uh- good to meet you. Anyway, Charlie mentioned something about a tour, so we must be going!” Lucifer’s tone was passive and short. Alastor knew it would take a bit more false kindness to get on his good side. “Oh, allow me! I am the executive producer of this lovely hotel, after all!” Charlie smiled widely, finding it flattering that Alastor cared enough about the hotel to offer his services. Little did she know that he had ulterior motives. “Aww, that’s a great idea! Thank you, Alastor. I’ll leave you both to it!”
Lucifer stuttered as he tried to find the words to protest. But it was too late. Charlie was already enamored in a conversation with Vaggie. “Come along!” Alastor’s smile grew wide as Lucifer treaded behind him. The moment they reached the second floor, Alastor spun around. Meeting Lucifer at eye level. “Let me cut to the chase! I have a favor to ask of you, Luci!” The Radio Demon quipped. “I knew there was something off about you. Well, cmon spit it out. I came here for my daughter! I don't wish to waste my precious time with common demons such as yourself.”
Alastor contemplated biting his tongue off at that moment because the words that threatened to tumble out of his mouth were way beyond foul. But instead, he took a breath, reminding himself of the greater good. “I’m glad you mentioned your darling daughter, Charlie! You see, she and I made a little deal of sorts! I would be willing to forfeit our contract in exchange for another contract being terminated!” The Radio Demon was bluffing, but he was sure the fool would buy it. Lucifer’s chest puffed up in defense. Alastor could see the wheels turning in his head as The King of Hell contemplated the trade. “Lemme guess, you got yourself in a bad contract and need some help getting out of it?” Alastor’s laughter filled the hallway from the remark. Not even Lucifer himself could get Alastor out of his deal, but that was beside the point.
“Oh heavens, no! This is about my wife. She sold her soul to one of the Vees. I need that deal to be reversed! So, do we have a deal?” Alastor outstretched his hand. Hoping that Lucifer would shake it without further delay. “The who now? The Bees? Fine, fine. I don’t really care as long as my Char Char is out of harm's way. You got yourself a deal, Malastor!” Alastor cringed at Lucifer’s lack of awareness. He was truly in his own world. But that worked to The Radio Demon’s advantage. So it didn’t really matter either which way. “Lovely!” With that, the two men shook on it. Sealing their deal. Alastor chuckled under his breath from how easy that had been. Lucifer was a common idiot. No wonder the state of hell was in shambles, he thought.
But with the King of Hell under contract with him, it was only a matter of time until you were back in Alastor’s arms. He would make sure of that.
A cool gust of wind stirred you awake. It was nearly three in the morning when you heard someone calling for you. The radio static laced Alastor's voice as he spoke your name. Surely you were still dreaming, right?
"Don't be alarmed, my dear! It's only me." Alastor sat atop your bed. The same way Vox had earlier. His long fingers played with a strand of your hair, pushing it out of your face as he gazed upon you. "How did you get in here?" You nervously whispered. Slowly, you sat upright, grabbing ahold of your husband's face. His cold flesh meshed well against your warm hands. He really was here.
"I have my ways!" Alastor quipped, leaning forward to capture your lips with his. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you melted against him. Oh, how you missed his touch. Seven years was far too long without him and hurt feelings aside, you loved this man with your entire being. "My love, if you get caught-" You whispered against his lips, but Alastor simply silenced you by stealing another kiss.
"Nonsense! It's nothing I can't handle! Don't worry your pretty little head, I have an infallible plan to get you out of your contract with Vox." Excitement surged through you from the good news. "Really? That's amazing!" You beamed, wrapping your arms around Alastor's neck. Hugging him as tightly as possible. Your husband relaxed under your touch. Allowing himself to enjoy this long-awaited moment with you.
"I need you to hold out for a bit longer, my dear. Can you do that for me?" Alastor whispered into your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back with the pads of his thumbs. You nodded fervently. Whatever it would take, you would endure. "Yes," You sighed a breath of relief. Freedom was nearly within your reach. It was only a matter of time. Suddenly, a knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts.
"Sweetheart? Are you awake?"
Fuck, it was Vox.
You frantically pulled away from Alastor's embrace. Presenting him with a frightened look. "Go, now!" You nervously hushed, giving him one last kiss before he stood. Alastor's classic grin remained, but his eyes were full of remorse for you. He hated to leave you here like this, but there was no other way. Just a little bit longer. Alastor whispered a small "I love you" before his shadows enveloped him. Whisking The Radio Demon away right in the nick of time.
Moments later, your door swung open. Revealing a worrisome Vox. "Sweetheart, why didn't you answer me?" He quickly made his way to your side. His slender fingers grasped your chin. Vox tilted your head every which way, scanning for any abnormalities. "I-I'm sorry! I had a nightmare... so I was still pretty out of it when I heard your voice." You lied. Trying your hardest to force a smile his way. Vox's expression softened from your confession.
"You see, this is why I insisted on installing cameras in your room. I would be able to get here sooner at times like this." Vox sighed, pulling you into his chest. His arms enveloped your waist. "No cameras in here, you promised..." You mumbled into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his frame loosely. If you were entirely unresponsive, Vox would know you were being furtive. So you played your part. Whatever it would take, right?
"I did promise. You're right, sweetheart. But the offer still stands." Vox squeezed you tighter. The embrace bordered the lines of discomfort from how he held onto you. All you could do was nod against him, hoping he would release you sooner rather than later. "I-I know, thank you." It felt like pulling teeth, forcing out those words. Slowly, Vox pulled away. He gently pressed your shoulders down before tucking you back into bed.
"Try to get some more rest. It's still early, sweetheart. If you have another nightmare, just call out to me. I'll be here." Vox pressed another kiss to your forehead before standing up. He walked over to the chair that resided in the corner of your room. Vox made himself comfortable, gaze never once faltering from you. You squeezed your eyes closed. Forcing yourself to doze off despite the pressure you felt from his watchful gaze.
Alastor had remained outside your bedroom window. Overhearing your and Vox's entire conversation. His blood was boiling. Is this what you've had to endure for all these years? Alastor clawed at the side of the building right beside your window. His anger was only building the more he replayed the air of discomfort you illuded. Vox made a grave mistake thinking he could win you over.
You were his wife, and he would remind Vox of that fact. It was only a matter of time.
tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts
#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x you#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor imagine#alastor angst#alastor hazbin hotel#vox x reader x alastor#vox x reader#vox x you#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel vox
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✸ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔: satoru unexpectedly comes back home to his family after being gone on a week long business trip. .
word count. 1.6k +
tags. girl dad!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, tiny bits of angst, overall sfw. reader gets called 'mama; pretty, sweetheart, baby'. satoru being a good husband and dad. your daughter is around 2-3 years old.
the apartment is silent, something you aren’t used to. normally, you would not catch a break from the loud voices ringing in your ears twenty-four seven. it’d either be your husband’s or your daughter’s. or if they’ve teamed up to bother you, it’d be both. it’s been so long since the three of you were together. way too long.
satoru has been gone on this business trip for a week now. seven days without him is seven days without your other half. you feel empty for some reason, even if you have your lovely child who makes every day much better. you just can’t help but worry about your husband.
“mama, look!” your toddler calls out from the living room. you blink and find yourself back in the kitchen, instead of deep within your thoughts. you faintly smile at the adorable voice of your daughter. it reminds you that you’re not alone.
you walk into the living space and look around before spotting the toddler at the window walls. she’s pulled the curtains to the side so she could admire the scenery outside of your cozy apartment. you watch her excitedly jump up and down—like she’s discovered a big treasure.
“it’s raining!” she continues, running towards you and dragging you along to watch the raindrops fall onto the windows. you nod at her observation and pick her up. you kiss her cheek and gaze into her blue eyes, “yeah, it is! you’re such a smart girl.”
“yaayy! smart!” she giggles and nuzzles her cheek against yours. you wholeheartedly accept the affection with a warm laugh of your own. you both watch as it pours—from your perspective, the people below you look like small creatures, running around to get inside. you get lost in thought again at the sight.
you can’t help but wonder if it’s also raining where Satoru is. you hope he’s taken shelter by now, even though you know his infinity could easily block any rain from wetting his clothes. you don’t know what it is, but you’re undoubtedly worried sick about your husband whenever he is gone for too long.
“mama!” your toddler gasps and tugs at your clothes. your dissociating ends for a second because of the child in your arms. you absentmindedly hum and pat her back, letting her know that you’ve heard her. you’re too focused on your own thoughts and the gloomy scenery outside to hear anything else.
“mama! mama!” your daughter continues. this time, she kicks her legs, desperately seeking your attention. you kiss her cheek in response, still zoning out. she squeaks and giggles due to something. when she squirms too much in your embrace, you figure that it’s because she wants to be let down.
you crouch and allow your daughter back on her feet. you’re finally able to notice how she keeps staring at something behind you. she’s grinning from ear to ear, her tiny hand still tugging at your sleeve like she’s trying to notify you of something. her other hand points at the space behind you, “papa!”
you freeze. you don’t know whether you should turn around or not. is she joking around with you?
you tilt your head, patting your daughter’s head tenderly, her white hair as soft and fluffy as the one who’s she called out to, “papa? papa’s working, baby.”
a familiar chuckle softly reverberates through the room. one so smooth and nice to the ears; one that you immediately recognize as your lover’s. you nearly snap your neck by how fast you turn your head.
it must be a dream, you conclude. you can’t believe what you’re seeing. there he is, the man you’ve been praying to see. he stands there so casually, as if he’s planned this all, his hands in his pockets.
your husband smiles at you and your daughter. he’s more than happy to be back home as well.
“well, hello to you too, sweetheart,” satoru snickers, seeing your shocked expression. you’re frozen in place and have no clue how to react. you did not expect to see him any time soon nor did you even hear him come back in the first place.
“papa!” your daughter can’t hold her excitement anymore and jumps into her father’s arms. satoru happily accepts her hug and peppers her face with kisses, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.
he twirls her around before squeezing her tiny body to his chest, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “mm. i missed you so much, baby girl. so so so much.”
you’re left somewhat processing the entire thing. you watch as satoru interacts with your toddler, tightly hugging her until she’s playfully whining about the lack of air.
he gives her a firm peck on her forehead and eventually puts her down, ruffling her hair affectionately, “you promised to be a good little girl for mama while i was gone, right?”
“yeah! been a rweaaally good girl f’ mama,” she nods repeatedly and clings onto satoru’s leg, awaiting praise for her good behavior. the white-haired man lets out a low chuckle and pinches her chubby cheeks in a gentle manner, “i knew my little girl wouldn’t let me down, heheh.”
you try to articulate some words, but nothing comes out. you take a step forward once you’re ready to face reality. your bottom lip trembles as the all the experienced emotions overwhelm you.
satoru instantly notices and smiles, opening his arms to welcome you into his embrace. which you immediately do.
“aww, there’s my pretty wife,” satoru sighs in relief, pleased to have the love of his life back in his strong arms. it’s like all the stress he’s felt throughout his seven-day long mission has evaporated. the same goes for the weary state his body was in before setting foot in your shared space.
the tears stream down your cheeks. they’re happy tears—tears of relief. all your worries are eliminated as your lover is now safe and sound before you.
satoru allows you to cry it out, not minding his clothes getting wet. your precious tears wetting his uniform is much better than the pouring rain doing so.
“it’s okay. ‘m here now,” satoru coos. he kisses the tip of your ear, moving down to your earlobe before showing your neck the same affection. his romantic touch is one you’ve missed greatly.
his big hands rub up and down your back, his lips trying to distract you from the tears. he moves to cup your face and leaves a warm kiss on your forehead, “you’re so precious. you did so well while i was gone, baby.”
satoru knows it must’ve been tough to take care of your daughter alone, whilst simultaneously taking care of all chores around the house. you’re the strongest woman he knows. his eyes sparkle with love as he wipes the tears from your cheeks, “there, there. .”
you sniff and cup satoru’s face this time, touching him like you’re making sure that he’s indeed real. You look around for any possible scratches but find none. luckily.
your voice is shaky as you speak up for the first time in a while, “welcome back, honey. i missed you s’much.”
your husband bites his lip at the sound of your voice cracks. your looks are captivating, even more when you’re so emotional. your beautiful eyes that glimmer with tears lure him in without fail. he’s longed for this. to see you and hold you again, without relying on some pictures on his phone.
he can’t hold back the urges within him any longer.
“c’mere,” satoru hisses, an unexpected switch in his tone. he suddenly pulls your body flush against his, his head lowering so his lips could crash down onto yours. your eyes widen at the abrupt gesture, but you quickly close them to fully enjoy the sensations. you hold him close to you while you return the kiss.
after a couple seconds, you both pull away, out of breath by the sudden moment of pure passion. the sorcerer grins and hugs you again. satoru rests his chin on top of your head and allows you to catch your breath, “i’m glad to be back.”
the soft pitter patter of the rain against the glass of the windows continues in the background. it’s a peaceful moment—two lovers reunited in their safe space. this is all you’ve wished for.
the sounds of wrappers falling to the floor and someone rummaging through plastic bags put an end to the sweet atmosphere between satoru and you. you both look to the side at the same time, only to find out that your daughter’s already been snacking on the goodies that satoru bought back from his trip.
the two of you burst out into laughter at the sight of the toddler munching on some chocolate, her cheeks as well as her hands being a complete mess. you were far too engrossed in your shared affection to notice that the little child has snuck off to inspect the bags on the coffee table.
“yummy!” your daughter exclaims once she notices that both her parents have caught her red handed. she reaches her arm out towards you, a half eaten piece of chocolate in her dirty little hand, “mama try.”
“no no, thank you. it’s all yours,” you giggle and shake your head. she’s too cute to scold and you can easily guess that satoru seems to agree with that statement. he walks over to the little girl and boops her nose lovingly.
“she’s got a sweet tooth jus’ like her papa, hm?” satoru comments light-heartedly. he grabs a nearby tissue and starts to clean the area around her cheeks, hoping to lessen the damage that’s already been done.
he truly missed this. the comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere.
“jus’ like papa!” your daughter innocently repeats after satoru as he cleans her up, causing the both of you to laugh again.
you’re happy to have your family back together.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#jjk x you#gojo x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#female reader#jjk x female reader
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Can I request and Alastor x reader where she was his wife when they were alive but she ends up in heaven while in her early 20’s due to being murdered on her way home from his radio station one night. She never knew about Alastor’s crimes but she finds out about the extermination at the meeting Charlie has with heaven and sneaks down during the next extermination not knowing if Alastor is still alive or not? Maybe some magic like reader singing No Good Deed from Wicked trying to prevent Alastor from being harmed or killed? Once they find each other I can’t imagine Alastor ever letting her leave again, not even to heaven. Can I request a bit of fluff and maybe NSFW to make up for the time spent apart? Thank you!
Title: Ruined Redemption
Warnings: 18+! NSFW, angel!wife Reader, fem!reader, reader & Alastor married, mention of past life, mention of death, demon!alastor, fluff, creampie, rough sex, French, Heaven & Hell, am i missing something????
”You sure you dont want me to walk you home cher? I can wrap up right now” Alastor said as you pressed your soft lips to his cheek. You reassured him you would be fine. That you were perfectly capable of getting home without him escorting you. “No no ill be fine promise. Just dont stay too late hmm? I would love to have my husband in our bed for once when the sun ain’t risin’” you said, glaring at him playfully.
He chuckled, nodding ”Be careful on your way home cher, it ain’t safe for a doll like yourself to be roamin’ the streets at this time of night” Alastor said as you waved goodbye.
“I love you”
The stars twinkled in the sky as you stared up at them.
You blinked, raising a weak hand up to them.
Blood.
You were bleeding.
You had took a shortcut to get home and a man had grabbed you into a dark alleyway.
He tried to take advantage of you but you resisted, angry that you wouldn’t be a easy target he slit your throat so you wouldn’t cry out, leaving you to bleed out onto the cold concrete.
Your wedding ring shined at you. You let out a gurgle,
Alastor…
You use to think that people were lyin’ when they said your life flashed when times of death, but tears welled in your eyes as every memory of you and Alastor came to your mind.
The night you met Alastor was the last one you saw as you heaved your last breath.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
”Did you forget Hell is forever?”
You sat at the council meeting as the princess of Hell tried to reason with Sera. You were saddened that the Angels went down and executed the soul of the damned.
You thought the idea of rehabilitating souls was a good idea.
You had waited years to see Alastor, but you quickly became concerned when each year he didn’t pass through those pearly gates.
Alastor was in Hell. At least you had hoped.
You heard that the next extermination was soon and you plotted to descend to Hell to find your lost lover.
Alastor please be okay
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hell wasn’t as bad as you thought.
You quickly found the hotel the princess hosted and knocked on the door.
”Oh why hello- wait you’re-” Charlie stuttered.
You gave her a smile. You must have looked ridiculous, an Angel at her door and with the extermination approaching.
”D-Do you know Alastor?” You asked, almost pleading that you hoped your lover was at her hotel.
She blinked and nodded, letting you inside.
”I thought your idea was bees knees by the way”you said as she ushered you to sit on a couch.
”W-Why thank you! But…how do you know Alastor?” She asked.
You fiddled with your ring. “Well you see I’m his-”
”Darlin’? ” a voice interrupted you.
You almost broke your neck turning around. You let out a gasp “A-Alastor?”
A tall red demon stood in the archway.
He was dressed in all red, save for the few black accents.
His face dawned shocked, though his smile never faltered. But you saw it was tense.
You stood up and approached him.
Theres no way this was your Alastor…
You subconsciously reached a hand to his face “A-Alastor…is it really you?”
He leaned into your touch, grasping your wrist softly
”Mon cher…”
Your eyes welled with tears and you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face in his chest.
Still in shock, Alastor wrapped his lanky arms around you.
Whiskey and sandalwood. That was the scent that flooded your nose, same scent that always clung to him.
”I t-thought i would never see you again” you cried.
”what are you doing here?” You asked
He smiled “I should be askin you the same thing. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be down here”
You didn’t even realize that an audience had gathered.
”what’s white wings doing down here?”
You eased your grip on him, actually taking him in.
He looked nothing like your Alastor, but you knew it was him.
”Oh baby what could you have done to land yourself in hell?” You asked.
The tall spider gave a laugh “Freaky face there is one of hell’s most powerful Overlords toots”
Alastor glared at him before looking down at you “Its a rather unpleasant story my dear, but I guess I should tell you now”
And tell you he did.
You wouldn’t have thought that your Alastor was the one who had once terrorized your city.
Your husband was…You had married a killer.
”regret marrying me doll?”he asked at your shocked face.
You shook your head “Never” you gave him a smile “But you’re at a hotel that promotes soul redemption?”
He laughed “Just a little investment of mine to pass the time. I have no notion to redeem my soul”
This caused you to panic “B-but the extermination!”
He caressed your cheek “Don’t worry about that, I wont let anything happen”
You huffed, deciding to trust him “Well aren’t you gonna introduce me?” You asked turning to give your full attention to the bunch.
”Why of course! Everyone this pretty doll is my darling wife” he beamed
”WIFE!?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alastor took you on a tour of the hotel. You walked, arms interlocked as he showed you around.
You laughed when he brought you to his radio tower “Just couldn’t let it go huh?” You had said, earning a laugh.
He led you to his bedroom. You marveled at how it suited him. There was a swamp that split up the room.
A true southern man you sighed.
You sat on his bed, taking it all in.
Alastor couldn’t believe that you were here.
He thought that he would never see you again.
He had figured that you were in Heaven after a few decades.
You were his sweet little wife. You were the only good thing in his life.
He absolutely lost his mind when he was told you were killed on your way home.
He should have walked you home.
Your death weighed on him for decades. Even in death.
But here you were.
You hadn’t changed a day. Well the wings and halo were new.
”Mon cher…” He approached you, voice dropping the static and kneeled before you.
You were real and you were here.
His arms wrapped around your waist as he laid his head on your lap.
Your hands found his hair, massaging his scalp. You tickled at his ears and giggled when they twitched.
”je suis désolé mon amour. je suis tellement désolé que tu aies connu un sort aussi cruel. si j'étais juste rentré à la maison avec toi... je suis vraiment désolé” his heart was pounding as he nuzzled into your stomach.
You smiled at his words. You cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to yours “it wasn’t your fault Al. Things happen. All that matters is that we are together again. ‘Ill defy death itself to be with you," were our vows remember?”
Alastor moved quickly. He gently pushed you onto your back as he climbed over you.
”tell me…tell me our vows again”
He tugged at his bow tie and stripped off his jacket, you retracted your wings as you watched him
”A-Al?” You whispered, suddenly breathless.
”please…tell me our wedding vows”
”From the moment our paths crossed, it was always you.
It was the moment we met that I saw everything.
Our future.”
He unbuttoned his dress shirt.
“You were everything i ever dreamed of and became so much more.
I love you.”
He leaned down to kiss you
“Heaven and Earth cannot compare to how much I love you.
Through the good and bad, Ill always love you.
I give my heart and soul to you to cherish for an eternity ”
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he peppered wet kisses along your neck
”Ill reap the Earth to and tear the Heavens apart to remain bound to you”
You gasped as he nipped your shoulder
”This love I give can never die. For Ill defy death itself to forever be with you.”
he buttoned your shirt, brushing a thumb over your nipples. A shiver ran through you.
”For death itself could never part us.
I am yours forever and always and ill raise Hell if death tried to part us ”
You moaned softly as he took a nipple into his mouth.
“Alastor…”
The rest of your clothing was quickly removed.
You almost wanted to cover yourself.
When was the last time you were intimate with Alastor?
You felt like you were on your wedding night all over again.
”You’re as beautiful as when you were alive my dear”. He whispered, spreading your thighs.
You jumped feeling his hand skim your exposed clit.
You were embarrassed with how wet you were.
he still had that effect on you, even in the afterlife.
Your breath hitched as he dipped a finger inside you
Alastor groaned, you felt just as you did before.
You pulled him to your face, your face flushed and eyes lidded. Your soft lips met his as he worked your cunt.
”Alastor please” you whined against his lips.
You were always such an impatient thing.
But he would never deny you.
He growled ”If I fuck you Ill never let you go. You’ll never see those pearly gates again if you let me have you. So tell me you don’t want this, you don’t want me and Ill stop” he shimmied out of his pant, freeing his cock.
Alastor was lying. Even if you told him to stop and you didn’t want this he would never let you go back to Heaven.
Not when he just got you back.
Your lips met his again, the kiss was filled with longing and passion.
”I never want to be without you again”
He slammed his lips on yours again as he slid his cock into you, swallowing your squeal as you took him.
Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkk
He gave a few soft thrusts to make sure you adjusted well to him.
You panted into the crook of his neck. Nails clawing into his back as he rocked into you.
A cry ripped from your throat as he gained momentum.
”Aahh!”
This was different. So different from when you were alive.
Alastor was always passionate in bed with you, but this…this was so…you couldn’t even describe it.
a word popped into your head.
Divine
The way he fucked you told of how much he had missed you.
Decades of being apart melting away as he pounded into you.
You locked your ankles behind his waist.
”You always take me so good cher. So so so good” He moaned into your ear.
The sound of skin hitting skin and your soft moans filled the air.
His cock hit that soft sweet spot inside you making you wetter.
”Ill ruin you. Fuck you til you’re drenched in me. Until your very scent is covered in me.” a harsh thrust brought him to be buried to the hilt.
Alastor smirked as your cunt fluttered
”You want that doll? To be ruined? To never see Heaven again? Hmmm you’ll throw away your salivation to be fucked by a demon like me?”
The telltale squelch of your cunt was his answer.
He would be damned if he ever let you out of his sight again.
His pace turned rough, he could feel himself changing.
”Alastor?” You felt him get bigger. His body morphed and when you looked at him, he expected fear.
But you looked in awe as he turned into his demon form.
Antlers big as willow branches, eyes black and glowing red like dials. He was disheveled.
He looked like a wild beast.
And he was fucking you like one.
All you could do was hang onto him. Letting him take you like you would disappear.
”ooh fuck aaahh please please” you cried as he fucked you, rutting into you with so much force you swear the bed was knocking against the wall.
You felt your thighs tremble from taking his brute thrusts. That familiar tingle forming in your stomach.
were you gonna cum? Could you cum?
guess you’ll find out
Your demon husband was fucking you and you were gonna cum.
on his demon cock…oh heavens…
”Tu vas jouir, chérie ? Tu vas laisser un démon t'arracher ta libération ? Vous voulez que? hmmm? Tu veux jouir sur la bite de ton démon ? laisse-moi l'avoir chérie”
He purred, fucking into you so hard that a slight bulge was present.
He was going to break you. Ruin you.
He unhooked your legs, pushing one to your chest to get a better angle. Hitting those spots that had you seeing stars.
”A-Al! Oooh fu-fuuuck! I-I’m cumming oh my g-”
A large claw hand covered your lips
He snarled “There’s no God here sweetheart. Now. Cum”
Your body seized, feeling like a fire had set off as your organ ripped through you.
Alastor slapped his mouth over yours to eat your cries.
He thrusted into feverishly, seeking to paint your heavenly walls white with his cum as he fucked you through your orgasm.
”that’s a good girl, milking me dry”
He gently cradled your limp head, nipping at your swollen lips “where you want me cher? Cause i got half a mind to soak you in my cum”
You whined “i-inside…please cum inside me Alastor…baby please!”
He grinned “As you wish”
His pace quickened and with a low growl he emptied his cum into your cunt, sighing as he filled you til it spilled around him.
You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, wincing at the emptiness that he left behind, feeling his cum drip down your ass.
Alastor purred like an engine as he took you into his arms, basking in the afterglow as you cuddled into his side.
This is where you belonged.
By his side.
He’ll tear Heaven apart if they tried to take you back.
You were the Radio Demon’s.
Forever and always
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A brother's duty. // Husband!Aegon ii Targaryen x Wife!Reader x Aemond Targaryen
Summary: Aegon seemed to have noticed how much his younger brother, Aemond, fancies you, as a self proclaimed caring older brother, he decides to fulfill that role by giving Aemond what he wants, which is you.
WARNINGS: afab!fem!reader, dubious consent, threesome, m/m/f, dacryphilia, rough sex, manhandling, slight humiliation, degrading, double penetration, mentions of infidelity (aegon visiting brothels), slight misogyny, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving, m. receiving), pussy drunk aemond, lactation kink, cum eating, anal sex, lmk if I missed any! + not proofread.
WC: 4.7k
A/N: the anal sex in this isn't "realistic" aka no prior preparation so please don't come at me and go ''that isn't how anal sex works 😡😡😡 you have to do blah blah blah'' ik but this is just a work of fiction so pls just enjoy it // divider credits: @cafekitsune
“Aemond, do you perhaps fancy my wife?” Aegon tilts his head to the side, questioning his brother as they sit together in the library, quietly reading, of course, until the short pale haired man decided to break the silence.
“Brother, this is no place for such discussions.” Aemond tries dodging the question, but Aegon simply rolls his eyes grunting loudly in displeasure, “Just answer the question.” Aegon says annoyed and Aemond pursues his lip, lost deep in thought.
“What if I say ‘yes’?” Aemond asks, “Then I'd have your head for that.” Aegon smiles which makes Aemond shift uncomfortably in his seat, “Come on! I was kidding, do you really think I'd kill my own blood-related brother over a woman?” Aegon laughs loudly and Aemond sighs but he furrows his brows, “She is your wife.” Aemond states sternly, but Aegon shrugs, “And you are my brother.” He replies.
Aemond lets out another heavy sigh, hoping that he'd escape this situation he'd somehow gotten into, “So?” Aegon pushes further, poking at Aemond to answer the question and Aemond hums in irritance before being fed up and answering Aegon's question. “Yes, I do fancy your wife.” He admits, slightly ashamed.
Aemond was a man of the faith, believing in the faith of the seven, and according to the scripture, desiring a woman is a carnal sin, diabolical if she's a married woman, abysmal if she's your own brother's wife.
But Aemond couldn't help it, it's as if though the gods were testing him, not only were you pleasant on the eye but you were also very polite and had the same interests as him, and most probably the only woman — besides his sister — who was not disgusted after seeing his injury.
He knew he had to stop developing an interest towards you once he found out that you were being married to Aegon, but for some inexplicable reason; that only made him want you more, perhaps it was the label of you being ‘forbidden’ that enticed him further, making him yearn to get the taste of the forbidden fruit more than ever.
How he had wished that it was him instead, the one getting married to you, he wished it was he who fucked you, he wished it was him who got you pregnant, he wished it was his babe you waddled all around the red keep with, he wished it was his child that you had given birth to.
But those were nothing more than just wishes, wishes that would never come true, unless a miracle happens.
“That wasn't hard now was it?” Aegon's voice snaps Aemond out of his train of thoughts and Aemond simply hums, “Why did you ask such a question?” Aemond inquires curiously and Aegon smirks at him, “I may not be sober most of the time but the way you stare at her doesn't go unnoticed, your desire burns deep for her doesn't it? I've especially taken note of it when she was pregnant with my child, your eye never left her womb.” He answers and Aemond rolls his eye.
The atmosphere is filled with silence once again as Aemond continues to silently read his book.
“I would've let you fuck her if you had asked me to.” that statement which left Aegon's mouth made Aemond choke on his spit as he stared at him wide eyed, shocked at what he had just said, “Pardon?” Aemond gazes at Aegon confusedly, and Aegon gets a thrill out of this, watching his brother be flustered.
“I said what I said, you could've just told me so, you're my brother Aemond, how do you think I will ever turn any of your requests down?” Aegon says it so casually, as if he was giving an item that belonged to him which Aemond had always wanted so badly, except you weren't an item or an object.
Aemond remains silent, unable to talk because of how baffled he was, but Aegon pressed on, “Don't you wanna feel her cunt around your cock?” This makes Aemond slam his book down and get up, and Aegon raises his hands in surrender, “It was merely an offer, I wouldn't mind sharing her with you, we've shared whores before.” Aegon tries justifying his reasoning and Aemond scoffs, “But she is no whore, she is your wife, you should treat her with respect.” he replies agitated.
“Enough with the sterness, reply plainly, do you want to fuck her or no? I won't ever bring it up ever again if you say no, we'll pretend we never had this conversation.” Aegon sighs before raising his eyebrow.
Aemond swallows thickly, should he take this chance? He always yearned for you so badly, it's like the opportunity presented itself; he could seize it, but he was in a dilemma, not wanting you to face such disrespect, your self respect will be obliterated to pieces, you'd be drowning in self shame.
You were a very dignified lady, a woman who carried herself confidently no matter what, this is why you weren't even affected when Aegon still visited the brothels. As long as the word didn't get out, you were fine with it. You simply did your duty as a wife and a mother. He couldn't imagine you allowing him to fuck you and ruin your honour.
“Decide fast brother, I have to leave soon, it's been a while since I laid with my wife, the maesters had told me to give her a break for a minimum of six weeks, yet eight weeks have passed, my cock craves her cunt so desperately.” Aegon speaks explicitly, and Aemond's breath hitches in his throat, imagining what your cunt would be like. “Then why do you visit the brothels if you seem to like her so much?” He questions, trying to change topics, “That's cause she can't satiate my depravities, otherwise I wouldn't even be visiting those wenches anymore.” Aegon talks as though it was a minor inconvenience.
“Either way, decide quickly.” Aegon urges and Aemond swallows.
He opens his mouths to reject it, but for some odd reasons his mind forms a explicit thought of burying his cock inside your cunt which causes his cock to stir slightly, the blood flowing to it at the mere thought of fucking you.
‘No Aemond, she is your sister in law, your brother's wife, you cannot let this desire succumb you.’
‘But didn't you want this for a long time? Imagine how her cunt would weep when you'd shove your cock into it hm? Her breasts bouncing up and down while you thrust into her.’
He swallows thickly, those internal arguments happening in the span of seconds before he has had enough and made up his mind.
“Yes, I want to fuck her.”
The babe in your arms cooed as you rocked him gently — caressing his chubby cheeks with your thumb as he slowly fell asleep due to your movements, “He's cute isn't he?” You ask the servant that was in charge of him and she nodded, smiling at you.
“Yes princess, the more he grows, the more he resembles his father, Prince Aegon.” She gives her commentary and you give her a small smile and slightly nod your head. The babe finally closes its eyes, going into slumber and you chuckle at his cuteness, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, just then, the door the nursery opens which reveals ser criston cole.
You were confused as to why the kingsguard was here himself, “Prince Aegon has sent me in search for you, he is calling you to his chambers.” Those words were enough to clarify the situation. He wanted to lay with you, “I'll be there in a minute.” you reply and he nods, you give the babe to the servant before smoothening your dress, and leaving the nursery.
You reach your martial chambers quickly, you turn around to thank Cole and dismiss him, you then open the door to the chambers and shut them just as quickly, taking a deep breath before turning around and venturing deeper into the room.
You spot Aegon sitting in his chair, but what was odd was that he was accompanied by Aemond, who you've meet occasionally and had nothing but a positive opinion on about, you were confused on what he was doing here.
Maybe Aegon did not want to lay with you? Maybe Aegon was trying to get closer to his brother for having a bond of a family? You knew how strongly bonded these brothers are, especially since after whatever happened at driftmark, so it wouldn't be weird to assume that Aegon is trying to get you and Aemond to become good friends.
“Ah, wife.” Aegon gets up from his chair, coming over to hug you, and you return it awkwardly, knowing that Aemond is in the same room, Aegon chuckles at your awkwardness. He quickly gets behind you, pushing you forward until you're right in front of Aemond who stares at you from below, all the while Aegon nuzzles his face into your neck.
You're confused not knowing what's happening, “Brother, undo her front laces.” Aegon commands and you furrow your brows immediately, baffled at how Aegon was behaving, perhaps he had drunk too much? You felt bad for Aemond, probably stuck in this unwanted situation, you try to give him an escape route but you are surprised when his warm knuckles graze against your collarbones as his fingers hook underneath your laces, beginning to pull them apart.
You were perplexed by his actions, not knowing what to do, you grip his arm from further undoing the laces but Aegon forcefully pulls your hands back, holding both of them behind you as Aemond pulls off the corset.
You were wearing a dress with no sleeves, but that did not mean you went completely shoulderless, your shift and chemise beneath you acted as the sleeve’s replacement, so when Aemond undoes the laces that were holding your long gown up, it immediately plummets to the floor, leaving you in your chemise.
Aegon nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck from behind, taking in your scent while placing small kisses on your shoulder, still not letting go of your hands, “Darling, I hope you don't mind Aemond joining us today, he had admitted to me that he fancies you, and as his older brother, it is in my responsibility that i take care of my brothers needs.” Aegon coos into your ear and you bite your lip, you are about to respond but you are interrupted by your own gasp when you feel Aemond caress your breasts, squeezing the flesh and playing with them.
“I'm afraid— I don't understand?.” You reply confusedly, staring at Aemond play with the mounds of your breasts, and Aegon chuckles into your ear pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, “I'm simply allowing him to wet his dick inside your cunt.” Aegon puts it plainly, making you bite your lip in shame; all the while Aemond's hand slowly travels up your thigh, underneath your chemise, before it disappears inside; reaching your core.
You squeal when you feel him pinch your clit before he stroked small circles onto it.
“W-why?” You question, trying to free your hands from Aegon's grip but he doesn't budge, but instead watches with amusement as his brother's hand brings out such reactions from you, you whimper as Aemond's finger travels down your slit and to your opening.
“It's my duty as his older brother.” Aegon replies nonchalantly, Aegon loosens his grip momentarily, changing his grip so he can hold both of your hands in one of his. His free hand lifts your chemise up, as he peeks from over your shoulder to see what his brother's hand was doing to your cunt, he chuckles mockingly when he sees your juices dripping from in between your legs.
“Look at her leaking yeah? Her cunt is literally weeping.” Aegon comments and you clench your eyes shut because of the humiliation you are feeling, your husband is parading you out like a whore for his younger brother, and Aemond— whom you've thought of so highly— is letting this happen while participating in the act.
You gasp when you feel one of Aemond's finger enter you, your walls tightly clamping around his finger which makes him grunt, “Fuck you're squeezing my fingers.” He breathlessly says. Aemond suckles on your neck, biting your sensitive spot which makes you whimper. Aegon finally lets go of your hands and then holds you by your waist before rubbing his cock against your ass.
Aemond's finger trail over the spongy spot inside of you, that makes you let out a moan and he takes note of this and presses against that area that causes you to tremble in pleasure, your hands fly up to his shoulders to balance yourself, though you knew you wouldn't fall, Aegon was holding from behind after all.
You were trapped between these two men, both of them peppering kisses on the opposite sides of your neck making you feel dizzy so you rest your head on Aegon’s shoulder, revealing more of your neck for the men to claim.
Aemond adds another finger inside you, stretching you out whilst providing you pleasure, his fingers skillfully grazing your spongy spot, constantly hitting it with precision.
You didn't even feel your peak approaching; it was ripped out of you so suddenly, you let out a loud moan of Aemond's name, clenching onto his shoulders extremely tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks at the intensity of your peak. Aegon's warm tongue glides over your face, collecting your tears on his tongue and licking at them.
You feel Aemond pull his fingers out of you, and you watch with hooded eyes as he puts them in his mouth, licking your essence up before he hums in delight, before pressing a kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself.
You are surprised when you are pulled away from him by Aegon, he lifts you up hurriedly and carries you over to the bed before harshly throwing you on it, he is quick to undress, taking off his breeches and undergarments, getting completely naked and harshly grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed.
His hands rip apart your chemise in a hurry, before he forcefully spreads apart your legs and positions himself in between, he gives you no warning before roughly shoving himself inside you, that make you slightly shriek in pain but eventually the pain fades, he moves in and out of you fast paced, ramming into your hole with such an intensity that it has you seeing stars.
“Are you jealous?” Aemond taunts Aegon and Aegon rolls his eyes, “No, I just couldn't hold back anymore, I've missed her cunt so much.” He replies to the taunt and Aemond chuckles, undoing his own breeches, freeing his cock from its confines. “Can I use her mouth?” He asks Aegon and Aegon grunts, “Do whatever the fuck you want with her.” he thrusts brutally into you.
You feel the space next to your head sink and you look over slightly only to be face to face with Aemond's cock, it forms a shadow over your face under the candle lights, you gasp when you see it physically throb. You've never seen that before.
He uses that slight opening as a chance, hooking his thumb in your mouth and spreading your mouth open before pushing his cock inside your mouth, you are taken aback by this and try to pull away but Aemond holds your head in place before shoving himself inside your mouth further, his tip caresses the back of your throat, which makes you gag on his cock, but that only further provides additional pleasure as he groans.
“Seven hells—” Aemond grumbles, his hand hold your hand as he thrusts into your mouth, thumb caressing the outline of his cock that forms in your throat when he pushes as the way, your eyes well up with tears and soon you're panting for air that makes you involuntarily suck on his cock, Aegon's thrusts from downwards make your body jolt upwards, taking more of Aemond's cock.
Aemond suddenly pulls out which makes you suck a sharp breath automatically, “Easy there sweetheart.” Aemond coos and you pant heavily staring at him with doe eyes, “I'll shove it once again alright? Breathe— through your nose— fuckkk.” Aemond instructs as he shoves his dick inside your mouth again, but this time you're prepared so you follow his instructions.
You hollow your cheeks which makes him grunt in satisfaction, “Good girl.” Aemond compliments you, which causes your cunt to clench around Aegon's cock, to which he responds by a chuckle, “Guess she liked that brother, she's squeezing the fuck out of me.” Aegon talks to his brother and Aemond hums in response, Aegon's thrusts speed up, that constantly hit your sweet spot, he bends forwards and takes one of your breast in your mouth, suckling on the nipple and soon– beads of white droplets begin to come out, directly into his mouth that makes him suck more harshly, enjoying the taste of your sweet milk.
“She's lactating? Fuck I wanna have a taste.” Aemond moans, noticing how the milk started to drip from the sides of Aegon's mouth.
Aegon's tip constantly caresses your spongy part, which causes something to tighten in your stomach before it eventually snaps, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and choke on Aemond's dick.
The sensation of your throat tightening around his cock makes Aemond finish as well, he shoots his load down your throat which you have no option but to swallow, and soon— Aegon is finishing inside, painting your inner walls white.
He pulls out immediately after, falling forward onto you and positioning you in such a way that he is able to suckle more, Aemond joins him soon after; shuffling and turning down to take your free breast into his mouth.
You couldn't help but whine as the two brothers suckled on each of your breasts, your recent high made you even more susceptible to sensitivity, yet you couldn't help but caress their heads gently, Aemond clamped his teeth down on to your nipple hardly which made you wince; but he later soothed the area with the wetness of his tongue. Aegon on the other hand was more careful to not graze his teeth against your sensitive buds, only using his tongue and swirling it around your swollen bud.
Aemond let's go with a wet pop, cleaning up the milk and sat up straight before tugging you, this displeased Aegon who wasn't done yet, but he had to let go, Aegon watches as Aemond settles in between your legs before he crawls down, by then Aegon had already caught on to what he was doing, and assisted him by holding you against his chest, your back pressed against him tightly, meanwhile you on the other hand; had no idea what Aemond was about to do.
“Aemond what are you— huh? Ahhh!—” You ended up squealing in surprise when you felt him place his wet tongue on your clit— you tried to shut your legs from the embarrassment but Aegon held them open— so you could only watch helplessly as Aemond gave kitten licks to your clit, which undoubtedly made you feel pleasure.
He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit before fully engulfing it in his mouth, sucking on the flesh as if he's starving, Aegon's cock is already beginning to harden again as he witnessed such a depraved act.
Aemond groaned when he felt Aegon's seed in his mouth — which he sucked out of you — but he didn't let it stop from devouring you, his tongue licked through your folds before he sucked on your clit and let go of it with a pop before repeating the motion all over again, you unknowingly pushed his face further into your cunt, which made him moan knowing how desperate you were for him, the moan caused additional vibrations which sent pleasure through your body in waves.
You rested your head on Aegon's shoulder as you watched Aemond continue his ministrations, Aegon turned your head slightly before he connected his lips with yours and you moaned into the kiss.
The familiar feeling of the tightness began to form in your stomach again and you break the kiss with Aegon and start to hump Aemond's face involuntarily; trying to just desperately reach your high.
“You're such a fucking whore do you know that? You look so desperate humping your face against his face.” Aegon coos meanly into your ear and you whine, staring at him with teary eyes and he smirks meanly, pulling your hair harshly, “Whore.” He degrades you and your bottom lips tremble as you are about to start crying, but you aren't able to when your peak hits you at the same moment, making you moan in pleasure instead.
Aegon mockingly smiles at you, “Here I thought that you were a prim and proper lady, hell— you don't even let me do these things to you, but maybe my judgement was wrong, maybe you're a whore from the silk street disguised as a lady.” He accuses you meanly, you shake your head no at his accusation while trying to calm down from your high.
Aemond doesn't say anything to that, but simply sits up, and shifts positions once again, pulling you off Aegon and onto his lap instead, you cry onto his shoulders and he simply coos at you, he caresses your hair to calm you down, “Goodness brother, you've made her cry.” Aemond sneers at Aegon who just shrugs his shoulders. “I've only stated what I've observed.” He replies and you whimper.
“All of that aside— do you think she can take us both? In one hole.” Aegon speaks before Aemond could come up with a response and you furrow your brows, and Aemond is lost deep in thought, “We'll have to test it out.” Aemond responds and you push back, immediately staring at him wide eyes but Aemond just pecks your lips.
He lays down, taking you along with him, one hand holding you against him while the other is grabbing your hips and sinking you down on his boner, you bite your lip at the delicious stretch, you're in a position where Aegon can clearly see your pussy stretching around Aemond's cock. Aegon straddles Aemond's knees and lines his cock against your entrance and you turn your head back to see what he was doing, his cock bumped with Aemond's before he found a slight opening to shove his cock into the same hole. “Ah—!” You let out a squeal from pain as you feel his tip intruding and stretching you far than you're capable of taking.
Aegon grows frustrated, not being able to enter his cock fully inside you as your walls clamp down, resisting furthermore intrudence, however that only makes Aemond's pleasure elevate as your walls squeeze him tightly.
“Fuck this, I'm taking her from the rear.” Aegon gives up pushing his cock inside you, you gasp when you feel his thumb poking and pushing inside your puckered hole on your behind. You cover your face with your hands ashamed but Aemond pulls them away before crunching upwards to kiss you on the lips.
Aegon collects your wetness that's dripping from your cunt and smears it on your slightly stretched out hole before doing the same with his cock and lining the tip with the entrance and slowly pushing it inside.
“Ahh— Aegon— wait– I don't think— hgh!” You squeal once his fully settles inside you, and you couldn't help but tremble from the burn of the stretch as he slowly started to move, tears streamed down your face when you felt Aemond move too.
You were feeling highly humiliated, how your dignity has now been sullied, though this encounter wouldn't get out; you knew you wouldn't be able to see Aemond in the same light again, you'd always think about this day whenever you'd encounter him, a dirty little secret you'll have to keep hidden from the realm.
You are pulled from your thoughts with a sharp thrust from both of them penetrating you, you couldn't stop it but moans slipped from your mouth like prayers, you gasped and choked while calling out their names, the position; the act; the pleasure and humiliation you were feeling all combined made you feel hot, and to your horror, the pain began to subside leading you to enjoy this act.
You clinged onto Aemond as the brothers both rammed into you at such a fast pace that made you see stars, you clenched your eyes shut at the new sensations they were making you feel, and soon you're moving in rhythm along with them.
“Fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna cum.” Aegon grunts, his thrusts eventually becoming sloppy, “Me too.” You tell him and Aemond takes that as a cue to thrust faster into you, his hips ramming against you, the sound of flesh slapping rapidly fills the room.
Once again, you're blinded by the pleasure that was ripped from you, you came with a loud moan just as simultaneously as Aegon did, he pulled out and came on your back, he couldn't help but watch in awe as his seed dripped down onto your ass cheeks.
Aemond's pace became slow and messy, indicating that he was near too, “I'm gonna cum inside you, get you pregnant alright? This time you'll carry my child, not Aegon's. I'll make sure of it.” He grunts out mindlessly, pressing you down tightly to his chest, and Aegon just snickers. “Only time will tell, Brother.” Aegon replies snarky.
And with that, Aemond finishes inside you, shooting his seed far up into your walls, and you just nod silently, processing his words, his grip loosens after he finishes you fall off him and onto the bed, and soon Aegon collapses tiredly as well.
You hoped silently, that this would be the last of it, and that you'll not have to do this again, though it was enjoyable— it was humiliating, you were not that kind of lady that indulges in such depravity, maybe you'll be able to forget this and move on as if it never happened.
You prayed to the gods desperately.
But the gods are cruel.
Such encounters became frequent, Aegon and Aemond were enjoying it too much to stop, and soon you eventually got used to the routine, yet you couldn't help but feel guilty when you'd go to the sept with Alicent, when she prays that Aemond can find a good match, when she talks about the proposals that came for Aemond to you, unbeknownst to the fact that her son was constantly fucking you and was way too obsessed with you to let go of you and marry another woman.
He'd began fuck you without Aegon being involved and when you told Aegon about it, he simply shrugged furthermore simply allowing him to do so, telling you that it was his duty as a brother to let Aemond have the things he wants, the very same excuse he used during the first time.
“So, what do you think about Floris Baratheon? Do you think she's a good match for you?” Alicents voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you stare at her, who is addressing Aemond, who seemed to be as disinterested as ever.
“She's decent.” He replies shortly before he turns his gaze to you, and you immediately avoid it, staring at Alicent instead who sighs in annoyance, soon; the feeling of stickiness between your legs—which you've tried to ignore— becomes more imminent the longer he stares at you.
And guilt overwhelms you, you didn't know why you were even joining this meeting with Alicent, you –infact– hated it, knowing that moments prior to this, you were fucking Aemond in the secret hallways of the keep.
And that his seed was currently dripping out of you.
— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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oh em gosh imagine gojo with an s/o who's basically as obsessed and in love with him as he is with us <33 and every1 is just like 😒ugh get a room
back and forth — gojo satoru x f!reader
a/n: equally being obsessed with each other>>> also check out @novelbear her prompts are out of their world! I used some of the dialogue prompts hehe
you would like to say that you’re immune to satoru’s charms, but then you would be a liar.
sometimes you, sure, can say no, but most of the time you indulge him. he uses his pretty face and even prettier words to get his way. it does reassure you that you have the same effect on him. actually, he can never say no to you.
he once sat with himself to think that maybe he is spoiling you, and he needs to stop, but then you entered the room beaming, smooching his face and asking to go to that one café that opened recently.
satoru’s original plan was to do the paperwork yaga has been yelling to him about, but how can he say no to you? so with a grin, he locked arms with you and the both of you skipped to the café.
so yeah, you’re both so down horrendous for each other and neither of you can deny it.
it’s terrible for everyone around you.
the way the both of you are screaming each other’s name from a mile away and running towards each other like you're in some romance movie. the hug is even more dramatic than the running, somehow.
the balant display of affection makes the students all roll their eyes.
one time, you called satoru from home and you had a call that lasted for an hour or so. eventually, you had to hang up since satoru had a class to teach. however, these goodbyes take even longer than the call itself.
“I love you, ‘toru!”
“I love you, my pretty angel!”
“I love you more, my lovely husband!”
“I love you even more, my divine wifey!”
and it continued like that forever. the students almost lost hope to get any education that day, but satoru finally said, “okay, pretty, I have to go now.”
they beam as they hear your voice replying with a sweet ‘okay!’, but they quickly deflated when satoru relaxed back and said, “but you have to hang up first.”
of course, what followed was a ‘no, you hang up first!’.
one and after another and nobara had enough before snatching satoru’s phone and instead speaking to you, “okay, y/n-sensei, we all love you, but we need this guy to teach us something so bye!”
satoru spent the entire day pouting.
another thing is how the both of you take pictures of the other while they are unaware. at first, you would think there is nothing wrong with it, and there isn’t.
but both of you love to fawn about the other in front of your students or friends.
satoru rambles with the most passionate and energetic fangirling ever to nanami, an audience that’s about to jump off a building, and you, who refuses to believe his beauty, ramble to shoko who’s about to finish 4 packs of cigarettes.
in general, satoru is a lot more brazen with his show of affection. for example, the way he shamelessly stares at you like he is memorizing your every feature.
sometimes, his hands wander to your face to gently caress it, then his lips follow, pressing a peck to every part of your face, drawing constellations of love. he then pulls back with a smile, “you’re really pretty, y’know?”
he always says what’s on his mind, and he is the type of lover to help you challenge your limits. he pays the people around him no mind as he pulls you in the rain with a grin, saying, “come on, dance with me!”
and you do your best. you’re both clumsy in your steps and you’re swaying more than dancing. satoru’s infinity is off and you’re both soaked.
still, satoru thinks you’ve never looked prettier, and you think his eyes never shone brighter.
there are times when words escape you before you think about them like that one time satoru was in a mini rush to go on a mission and forgot to give you a goodbye kiss. before he dashed out the door, you held him by the shirt and frowned, “my kiss?”
despite his blindfold, shock was evident on his face. he recovered quickly though. with a chuckle, he murmured a soft, “right sorry, wifey,” and kissed you passionately. he pulled back slightly, “am I forgiven?”
you nodded lightly and kissed his cheek, “yup; now go, mister strongest sorcerer.”
“I prefer my lovely husband, but that will do as well.”
he likes to tease you too. it’s in his nature, something he does with everyone he knows. of course, there is some teasing reserved especially for you.
satoru also loves hearing you sing his praises or verbalize your love for him. like that one time you were going on a mission and murmured an ‘I love you’ to his lips, but he quickly stopped you and said, “what did you say, pretty?”
you looked at him confused, “I said I love you,” you poke his cheek, “you heard me.”
he laughed, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your neck, “I know; I just wanted you to say it again.”
you wanted to roll your eyes, but instead, you cupped his face, pulled him down, and started smothering him with kisses. you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I love you,” then the other one, “I adore you,” his forehead, “I am infatuated with you,” his eyelids, “I can’t imagine a day without you.”
a big wide grin was plastered on satoru’s face and his cheeks were painted a very faint hue of red. you chuckled at his expression, “was that enough?”
he enveloped you in a big hug, resting his face on yours, “one more time, please?”
for you, you see satoru in a several things in your daily life. you see him in the blue sky above you. you see him in the glass of the bakery you pass by. you see him in the white cat that always walks by your side near the school.
you also hear him in the some of the songs you listen to, and you don’t hesitate to let him know.
one time when you were stargazing on the roofs of the school, playing your playlist since the time before it was satoru’s turn. a specific song started playing and it made you smile, before you spoke up, “y’know, satoru.”
he hums and you continue, “this song reminds me of you.”
you don’t hear a response, so you turn to look at him, “it’s actually one of my favori—satoru? satoru, are you tearing up?!” you laugh, leaning close to him, and he looks away.
“nope!”
behind closed doors, and with great distances separating the both of you, you never fail to call the other to feel their presence even through a phone. it’s practically a ritual for you and satoru to video call whenever one is out on a mission.
you can talk for hours and hours on end or relish in the silence, comforted by the fact that you can see each other.
satoru always insists on them, saying that he sleeps better when he see you. you share the same sentiment, so there’s no surprise that you both always fall asleep on call.
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An idea I have that’s itching my brain. Ex-husband!price, second chance trope? Strangely into this recently
Ex-husband!price who can’t help but call you every time he gets back from a mission and you who can’t help but pick up.
You’ve been divorced for a little over a year now. It wasn’t necessarily on bad terms but the relationship just couldn’t work anymore; with him constantly gone it felt as though he was more of a roommate, a stranger, than the man you loved.
You couldn’t take the loneliness and Price only ever wanted to make you happy, so he agreed to the divorce with the same amount of courage he had going into a mission.
“John?” You asked, answering the call after the third to make it seem like you weren’t waiting for him.
“Hey,” Price smiled immediately when he heard your voice. “I made it home.”
“Good. You’re not hurt are you?”
Price could feel the ache and throb on his body from the mission, especially on his side where he had hit the ground hard because of an explosion. A large bruise had already formed but he ignored it like every problem he had concerning himself.
Just like he had ignored you.
“I’m alright.” He sucked in his lips and cleared his throat. “Tell me what you’ve been doing.”
You really shouldn’t. It’s not like you ended on bad terms necessarily, but you had never known someone to stay friends with their ex-husband before. You knew that these kind of talks might send the wrong message.
It might make one of you believe that there was hope for reconciliation.
“Oh…nothing much.” You kept it vague to deter further conversation and you hoped he didn’t take it the wrong way.
Price didn’t, at least that’s what he told himself even though he felt a pang in his chest while his throat tightened.
He shouldn’t call you anymore even if he missed your voice. Every call was like he was torturing himself, making himself remember what he lost because he couldn’t get his own head out of his ass.
He would’ve stopped after the first call if you hadn’t picked up.
“I just wanted to let you I was home.” He mumbled and you felt incredibly grateful that he wanted to do that.
You may be divorced but you still feared the day one of his men would come to tell you he was no longer alive.
“Thank you.”
“Of course, love.”
It slipped out but neither of you said anything. You both sat in silence, drinking up the presence of each other from the other side of the phone, across cities.
There were so many mixed feelings, all of which neither of you had the words to describe them.
“Goodbye, John.”
“Goodbye.”
When you were gone Price sat in the edge of his bed in the dark. The bed he once shared with you often went untouched, even by him as he couldn’t stand to lay in it alone, even if the mattress was better for his body.
His fingers played with the golden band chained around his neck subconsciously since he was unable to get rid of it.
A/n: take whatever this is lol won’t be a series but might have like a couple other little pieces
#ex-husband!price#captain john price x reader#captain john price x you#price x you#price x reader#john price x reader#john price x you#captain john price#call of duty
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