#about how tired i was or how much pain i was in
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an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+
summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.
warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)
word count: 4.3k
a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.
divider by @saradika
“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?
Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.
The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.
When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.
As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.
Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.
“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.
When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.
Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.
He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.
“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.
“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”
–
Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.
And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.
“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.
He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.
“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.
“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on.
He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”
“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”
He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.
You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”
He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression.
“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”
The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.
“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.
Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand.
“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.
“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it.
“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”
You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.
“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.
Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”
You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state.
“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”
He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”
You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.
There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.
“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.
He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.
“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap.
“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows.
You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you.
“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.
With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.
Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.
“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lathe your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”
It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.
A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”
You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.
“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”
He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.
You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.
“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.
“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.
“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”
You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches.
“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.
“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”
“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”
“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against.
You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.
“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.
With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”
You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can.
Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.
“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.
So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain.
“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.
“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.
“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”
You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.
“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”
“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…”
Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.
So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is.
Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.
tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)
#my writing#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#daddy!joel miller#joel miller smut
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Shatter With Me | Please, Let Me
↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader
⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend’s Husband
⤜ Rating: MA 🔞
⤜ WC: 28,134
⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, BIG hurt feelings, accusations of infidelity, rejected/unwanted drunken kissing that could be viewed as dubious infidelity, lies/deceit about fertility, broken marriage, infidelity, talk of divorce/filing for divorce, legal separation, kissing, fingering, cunnilingus, mild dirty talk, mild begging, sex while pregnant, creampie
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon)
⇽Previous Chapter
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You should be dreaming, but an incessant sound keeps pulling you back to the surface of consciousness. Rolling over, you check your phone to see what time it is—2 AM. It takes a moment, but you manage to blink away your sleepy fog and realize the noise is someone rapidly knocking on your door.
“Taehyung, what the hell are you doing here?”
Taehyung looks rumpled, his hair tousled and the soft skin beneath his eyes a deeper shade than usual. He sighs heavily and takes a step back from your doorway. “Because,” he says, throwing a hand out in a gesture towards the floor.
Stepping forward, awkward with the temporary boot on your foot, you lean out into the hall to look at what he’s pointing at. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?”
Jungkook is slumped against the wall, his legs sprawled out in front of him. It takes you only a second to realize his shoulders are jumping in quiet, hiccuping sobs.
“Can we come in?” Taehyung asks. “It’s a long story, and I’m tired as shit right now.”
“Well, sure, okay.”
Taehyung gratefully accepts your help, though you’re not sure how much good you do with a bum foot, getting Jungkook through the door. He flops limply on your couch when Taehyung slides his arm from around Jungkook’s waist.
“What the hell happened? Is he drunk?” you ask, recoiling at the stench of whiskey you catch wafting from Jungkook. “Why did you bring him here? Where’s Jiyoon—”
“No!” Taehyung gasps, flailing a hand through the air to cut you off. “Don’t say her name. Please, you’ll set him off again.”
“Too late,” Jungkook sobs from the couch, curling in on himself.
A tug on your shirtsleeve has you turning away from Jungkook. Taehyung jerks his head toward your kitchen and you follow him in there. Worry settles in your chest with the look on his face.
“It’s not good,” he whispers.
“What happened?”
Keeping his voice pitched low, Taehyung fills you in the best he can. “He knocked on my door a few hours ago, completely out of his mind. I was barely able to get him to stop screaming and crying long enough to tell me. And then he downed half my liquor cabinet in less than half an hour.” Taehyung pauses and you can tell he’s collecting himself before continuing, “Jiyoon told him that her baby isn’t his. She’s completely shattered him.”
A tightness grips your chest, your heart pounding hard. You shake your head. “No, no. That can’t be right. Jiyoon wouldn’t—she…she loves him.”
Taehyung scoffs, “She loves what he represents. Don’t pretend we both don’t know all she cared about when they met was that he was a hotshot model with a bright future full of dollar signs.”
“Taehyung, no. I’ve known Jiyoon for most of my life. We’ve been friends since we were kids. She wouldn’t do that.”
The pained way Taehyung says your name tugs at your heart. “I’m going to be honest here, and I need you to know what I say is coming from a place of care. Jiyoon isn’t a nice person. She’s not a good friend—especially not to you. Don’t,” he says when you open your mouth to protest. “I know you care about her, but from what Jungkook told me, she said some really nasty things, about him…and you.”
“Me?”
“She accused him of having an affair with you, that you slept together, and that’s how you got pregnant. That was how she eventually told him about her affair, that her baby wasn’t his. It’s a fucking mess…he’s a mess.”
You have to stifle your incredulous laughter. “You can’t be serious.”
Taehyung puts a hand on your shoulder and turns you to look at where Jungkook is still curled up on your couch, his face buried in one of your throw pillows, body steadily trembling. “I’m serious.”
His words settle like a heavy weight right over the center of your chest. That tightness that was there before increases until you feel like you can barely breathe. “I-I need to talk to Jiyoon. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, a mistake.”
You go to take a step toward the hallway to retrieve your cell phone from your bedroom but Taehyung’s hand tightening on your shoulder halts your movement. “Maybe it’s best to leave it for now. At least until he’s lucid again. I don’t mean to drop this on your lap, but he wouldn’t stop begging to come here…to come see you, see the baby.”
The baby that he knows is his. Taehyung doesn’t say that, but it echoes through your mind as if he’d shouted it. You’re not sure what to believe at this point. The only things you know for certain are your own actions. It would be easy to crumble right now, to let the weight of everything crush you. But the crying man on your sofa—the one who is not just your client nor your friend’s husband anymore, but who has managed to become someone far more significant in your life and not just because of the baby growing inside you—reinforces the steel in your spine. There will be time to deal with everything else later.
“Okay,” you say to Taehyung. “Thank you for bringing him.”
After seeing Taehyung out and promising to call him if you need anything, you email Namjoon that you’ll be working on a client case from home tomorrow. For obvious reasons, you intentionally leave out that the client is Jungkook and that the case is one of a broken heart instead of an ad campaign.
You told Taehyung you wouldn't reach out to Jiyoon yet, but you are curious if she’s perhaps tried to reach out to you. The lack of messages waiting for you on your phone is another small crack in the fissures of your waning friendship with Jiyoon. What you didn’t tell Taehyung is that you’ve been feeling this way for a while. You know Jiyoon isn’t always a nice person. But she was still your friend, someone you had spent years of your life loving and being loved by in return. Or so you thought, at least.
With a sigh, you slowly approach the couch, kneeling down beside it. Jungkook stopped crying before Taehyung left, having fallen into a fitful drunken sleep. His body is still wracked with tremors, and his breathing wheezes from between his lips, sounding labored. You gently push his hair out of his face, feeling a pang of sadness at how blotchy and puffed his eyes are even when closed. A red mark mars the side of his jaw, subtle bruising in the distinct rounded curve of small, slender fingertips—she hit him.
“Mm,” Jungkook groans softly, your name rasping out with the sound.
“I’m here.”
His shoulders jump as the quiet sobbing returns. “I’m so sorry,” he chokes through the words. “Please don’t leave me, too!”
“Hey, hey, none of that. You have nothing to be sorry for. Come here,” you coo, helping him sit up so you can sit where his head was on the couch. You open your arms to accept him into an embrace so you can try to console him in some way.
Jungkook launches himself at you. You think it’s a mistake made in haste, his lips landing on yours. But with the gentle way he cups your face and begins to move his mouth in a sensual pluck over yours, you realize what’s happening—what you can’t allow to happen, not now.
“No—uh, no. This isn’t—” You pull back from him, managing to get a hand between your mouths. “Jungkook, no. We can’t do this. You’re hurting,” you say slowly, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his glassy ones. “You’re confused right now, and you’ve been drinking. This isn’t what you want. This isn’t you, no matter what anyone else says.”
Tears course down Jungkook’s cheeks and it breaks your heart to see him hurting like this. “Sorry—” he clears his throat “—yes, you’re right. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m such a fucking asshole. Jiyoon was right—”
“No. No, she’s not right, Jungkook. Whatever she told you, it’s not right. She’s not right,” you confirm again. “You’ve done nothing wrong. No matter what, know that.”
With a choking sob, he slumps forward into your arms, and you soothe him by running a hand over his hair. Resting back as best you can, you bring your legs up on the couch alongside Jungkook, being mindful of the small boot on your foot, and help him maneuver so he’s lying down beside you, head in your lap.
“What am I going to do?” Jungkook whispers into the silence that follows after a few tightly strung beats.
You try to sound reassuring, but you’re not sure you sound convincing even to your own ears, “It’s going to be okay, Jungkook. I promise we’ll get all of this figured out.”
Even if you’re not sure how you’ll accomplish that, you know you’ll do whatever you can to help Jungkook. This isn’t just his problem; it’s partly yours, too. After all, he’s the father of the child growing inside you and will be a part of your life even after the birth.
“Hi,” Jungkook whispers so softly that it takes you a moment to realize he spoke at all. “It’s me, your dad.” You can feel his lips brushing against your stomach through your nightshirt; he’s talking to the baby. “I love you so much already, and I swear I’ll never leave you…baby boy”
A boy.
You and Jungkook both cried happy tears at the hospital earlier after the tech swiveled the screen back around. It made everything feel that much more real. You vowed to bring life into this world for him and Jiyoon. Whether or not she’ll be in the picture further, you can’t let that color your actions moving forward with Jungkook. He still wants this baby—so do you—and that’s what matters.
Jungkook nuzzles against your hip and presses his face more fully against the side of the gentle swell of your belly. One of his arms wraps around the underside to rest on your opposite hip.
Sleep evades you long after Jungkook falls back into a less troubled slumber than before. Occasionally, he mutters under his breath and his hand flexes against your hip like he’s fighting invisible demons. You can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through, what his dreams are plagued with…all you can do is promise that no matter the darkness brewing, you’ll remain by his side for as long as he’ll let you.
You can only afford yourself the one day off of work and Jungkook assures you that he is okay on his own. It’s still a little weird to have him staying at your place, but only because neither of you has brought up that night since it all went down. That was three days ago now and you know when you go into the office today that Jiyoon is going to be there. It’s an inevitability of working together, crossing paths with coworkers. It was lucky that she was out of the office all day yesterday.
Taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself for the elevator doors to slide open. As soon as they do, it seems like a hush falls in the office. It feels like your first day of school or something, with the way eyes track you as you make your way to your desk. Something has changed, the atmosphere between yesterday and today is different, and you can’t shake the foreboding feeling now working its way down your throat.
“How embarrassing,” titters a familiar, snide voice from behind you. “Can you imagine showing up to work after what happened?”
Dani laughs at something Sooah, one of the other portfolio managers in the office, says. You can’t quite make it out, but that doesn’t stop the skin along your arms from pimpling and the hair on the nape of your neck from standing on end. Maybe if you go and ask now, feigning some pregnancy-related symptom, Namjoon will let you go home.
“Can you be a bit more professional, Dani? And you know better than to encourage her, Sooah.” The voice of Hyeonwoo from accounting chimes in as he briskly crosses the space between Sooah’s cubicle and continues past yours. “Namjoon doesn’t approve of office gossip, and it’s not above me to ask if he’d care to hear the latest little bird song.”
It seems everyone knows what’s going on, so you shouldn’t be surprised. But you can’t help but feel a little jolt of shock. Jiyoon shares most things with Dani, who has the biggest, loudest mouth in the office. You’d think Jiyoon would have wanted something like her marital problems not to be aired to the entire company.
“No clue what you’re talking about, Hyeonwoo. We were just reading this ‘Am I The Asshole’ thread on Reddit,” Dani sasses, grinning like a Cheshire cat when her eyes flicker to yours over the divider around your desk. “‘Am I the asshole for missing my pregnant wife’s very important doctor’s appointment because I was too busy playing hospital with her best friend, who just so happens to also be pregnant with my baby’. Only he claims it’s ‘not like that’.”
Sooah covers her laugh with a cough. Heat brushes up your neck, and embarrassment laced with a healthy dose of anger simmers in your stomach. They’re talking about you, yes, but that’s not what’s bothering you the most. What hurts more than anything is they seem so callous in talking about your pregnancy—the pregnancy you have because you wanted to help your best friend.
“Oh, Dani, Sooah, Hyeonwoo is right. Stop acting like children talking about things you know nothing about.” Jiyoon’s voice cuts through the uncomfortable silence. “That’s in poor taste, and you both should apologize.” She approaches your desk with a strained smile on her face. “Hey. Don’t listen to them.”
You chew on the inside of your lip before quietly responding, “Because it’s not true?”
“Because they’re just joking, even if they’re not very good at it.”
It’s impossible to know what to say. Jiyoon is talking to you as if there isn’t this giant gaping chasm named Jungkook between the two of you. “A joke?” Waving a hand in the air to dismiss that line of thinking, you turn to Jiyoon and open your mouth, intent to confront her about what’s going on or at least demanding she talks to you about it later, but she starts to speak before you can.
“We should get lunch today—oh, wait, I can’t today. But we should do that soon, okay?” She gives you a sincere smile. “Maybe we can talk baby names.” You’re so taken aback that all you can do is stare at her until she turns around and goes on about her morning like absolutely nothing happened. It’s as if it’s just a normal Thursday in the office.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
If someone had asked Jungkook six months ago where he thought he would be, the last thing he would have said was sleeping on your couch with his marriage in shambles. It’s been three days since he blacked out with his face pressed against your baby bump. Waking up that morning was only slightly awkward.
He’s been keeping himself busy by checking work emails and watching parenting videos on YouTube. Taehyung stopped by the condo for him the morning after, when Jiyoon was at work, and grabbed some of his things. Apparently, Jungkook’s phone fell behind the bench when he was putting on his shoes before he left to go to the hospital to be with you. When he powered it on, he wanted to throw it against the wall and watch it shatter.
The text message he thought he sent to Jiyoon sat there, unsent, in the fucking text box. Taehyung told him that didn’t excuse the way Jiyoon acted. Sure, Jungkook had missed an appointment, but she didn’t even show concern for his well-being. What if Jungkook had been the one in the hospital? He said all she was doing was playing the victim.
Jungkook didn’t want to continue that conversation, almost as much as he didn’t want to reach out to Jiyoon. So, instead of doing either, he’s been focused on other things, like work. You did him a favor and rescheduled a shoot he had later in the week. Thankfully, the brand was willing to be flexible, though he knows not everyone will be.
Which is why he got up this morning, took a shower, and is now on his way to meet Taehyung for lunch. Jungkook needs to get back to some semblance of normality, and food with his best friend is a great place to start. Taehyung is also bringing Jimin, and it’ll be nice to just have a moment of feeling like a human being again.
Taehyung chose a nice bistro just down the street, so Jungkook decided to walk. With every step he takes, he can’t help but swivel his eyes and check every face that passes him. The last thing he wants to do is somehow accidentally run into Jiyoon. Knowing his luck, that’s exactly what would happen no matter how hard he tried.
Thankfully, it seems the world has decided not to hate Jungkook that much today. Jimin and Taehyung are already there, seated at a booth in the back, when Jungkook walks through the door, the overhead bell tinkling brightly.
“Hey, man!” Jimin greets him cheerfully. Jungkook is certain Jimin could field the entire Kim Exclusives brand roster on his own, with his lush lips, soft cheeks, and dark eyes. The stylishly tousled blond-dyed hair helps, too.
Jungkook slides into the seat across from them. “How’s it going?”
“Busy!” Jimin flashes a charming smile. “I booked a brand deal with this pretty big jewelry company, and they want me to attend one of their launch parties this summer. I have five vouchers for plus ones if you’re interested. My manager, of course, gets one. Taehyung has one, and I’ve invited this guy I’ve been talking to for a while, Hoseok. That leaves two tickets unclaimed.”
Jungkook suppresses a smile at the jealous flash in Taehyung’s eyes when Jimin mentions this mysterious Hoseok. It’s cute how Taehyung tries to hide his very obvious crush on Jimin. All it would take is for Taehyung to actually ask Jimin out, and Jungkook knows he’d say yes in an instant.
“There will be an open bar and lots of potential connections to be made,” Taehyung adds, clearly trying to move the conversation along.
“Yeah, you can bring Ji—uh…” Jimin stammers to a stop. The poor guy blanches, clearly worried he might have upset Jungkook by almost talking about someone in particular that they’ve all been pointedly avoiding mentioning.
“It’s okay,” Jungkook tells Jimin. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You can always bring our boss instead,” Taehyung suggests, waggling his brows at Jungkook.
Jimin pops his elbows on the table and leans toward Jungkook. “She’s who you’re staying with right now, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. But, can we not talk about any of that? I just want to feel normal, please. Let’s talk about anything but my fucked up life.”
“Right, sure, of course.”
“No problem, man.”
Jimin and Taehyung shift gears without any issue, and Jungkook is thankful for that. By the time they order food and have eaten, Jungkook is feeling so much better that it doesn’t bother him that much when Taehyung asks him a question that’s close to the taboo subject of she-who-shall-not-be-named.
“When do you think you’ll be coming home?”
Jungkook drums his fingers on the tabletop, not having really given that much thought to it before now. “Honestly? I don’t really know. The condo is in my name, but I can’t just kick…Jiyoon—” he only stumbles over her name a little “—out.”
“I mean, you’re not just going to let her have it, are you?” Taehyung takes a sip of his tea before setting it back down. “You make good money, but you’re not made of giving away entire condos money, Jungkook. We book a lot of the same clients, I would know.”
He’s right; Jungkook knows this. And it’s not like he can stay with you forever. He already feels like he’s invading your space, and it’s only been a few days. Perhaps it’s time for Jungkook to swallow his reservations and seek out some answers. Life isn’t going to stand still for him; he needs to push through it and get to the other side.
“Fuck, man. I know. I’ll contact a lawyer today and see what’s the best course of action moving forward. Gotta start somewhere, right?”
“That’s the spirit,” Taehyung proclaims with an enthusiastic nod. “Don’t let the bitch continue to control your life!”
💔💔💔
You’re not sure you can let another minute pass without confronting the giant, awkward, proverbial elephant in the room. Jiyoon has spent the entirety of the day pretending like nothing is amiss. During the weekly team meeting this afternoon, she sat beside you like she always has, a smile on her face and a hand gently draped over her baby bump—the baby that she told Jungkook wasn’t his.
It’s late afternoon now, and most everyone else in the office has gone home, leaving just you, Jiyoon, Hyeonwoo, and Namjoon. Hyeonwoo and Namjoon are tucked away in one of the conference rooms, going over projections and finance reports, so if you want to have a private moment with Jiyoon, now is your chance.
Her desk is close enough to yours that you don’t need to cross the space, but you do anyway, the five feet feeling more like a mile with every step you take.
“Hey, Jiyoon. Do you have a moment?”
“What?” She taps away at her computer, the screen angled in a way that you can’t see. “Not really a great time. I’m trying to submit the schedule approval for a press tour for Dohyun.” You know Dohyun is one of the high-profile actors that she’s managed for a few years.
That’s not what you were expecting to hear. You were hoping for maybe a bit more receptiveness. Despite knowing that pushing her probably won’t do you any good, you know you need to try. “Jiyoon, please. It will only take a moment. It’s important.”
Jiyoon blows out a breath of irritation. Her mouse click is harsh and exaggerated, and her annoyance is palpable. “Okay, go on.”
“What the hell is going on with you?” you ask, choosing not to sugarcoat the situation and getting right to the point.
Her eyes bulge, clearly surprised by your approach. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t. You know what I’m talking about, the fact that your husband is sleeping on my goddamn couch and that supposedly that’s not his baby!” you whisper yell, nodding toward her maroon maxi dress-covered belly.
Jiyoon is a few inches taller than you, even more so in the short-heeled pumps she’s wearing. But when she stands up and steps into your personal space, you refuse to back down even though the feeling of her belly pressing to the top of yours makes you want to retreat.
Moments pass in tense silence, her dark brown eyes boring into yours. Finally, she steps back with a soft laugh. “Is that what he told you?”
No. It’s something you’ve been avoiding talking to Jungkook about for obvious reasons. If he wanted to talk about it, he’d bring it up. But, you don’t think Taehyung would have lied to you when he dropped a drunk Jungkook on your doorstep. Taehyung is a lot of things, as you’ve learned over the years, but a liar isn’t one of them.
“It doesn’t matter what he told me. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Because despite how you might feel, hearing her side seems to be the least you can do at this point. Maybe she’ll provide some crucial bit of information or make any of it make sense.
Her arms cross over her chest, and one of her hips pops out in a classic Jiyoon stance when she’s about to fight using words. “Look, Jungkook and I had an argument. It got heated. We both said some shit we didn’t mean. It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last. That’s just how marriages go.” She says that with a look on her face that says you clearly wouldn’t understand because you’ve never been married. “Sorry that he’s taking up space in your apartment. Tell him to go to a hotel or something if he’s bothering you.” She shrugs. “Things should blow over soon, and he’ll come back home either way.”
“You’ve talked to him?”
“Well, no, but I know him. Everything will be fine. Now, I need to get back to work. You should go home. Put your feet up and rest. It’ll be good for your baby and ankle.” The tenderness and concern in her tone give you whiplash.
Part of you wants to stay and ask more questions, but you’re not sure it’ll do you any good. She didn’t answer your first question anyway—not really, at least. Jiyoon's answer was generic and didn’t provide any sort of details—a half-answer at best. She didn’t confirm nor deny whether what she said to Jungkook about the baby was true, and that, perhaps, should be an answer enough for you.
Your mind is still reeling by the time you get home. But the smell of grilled meat and sauteed vegetables that greets you as you open the door stops the grind wheel in its tracks. Jungkook is in the kitchen, standing at the stove, his back to you. A white shirt stretches over the broad expanse of his shoulders as they move with whatever he’s occupied with. By the sounds of it, he’s moving things around a pan.
Soft music drifts to you from the Bluetooth speaker sitting on the island that separates the living room from the kitchen. Jungkook’s voice mixes with the vocals. It’s a beautiful tenor that could do good for him if he ever stopped modeling.
The last thing you want is to disrupt his peace. You had made up your mind as you traveled home that you would bring up everything with Jungkook tonight, wanting to get it all out in the open and addressed so you knew what to expect moving forward, knew how long he’d be staying with you.
It’s a conversation that needs to happen, but maybe it can wait…just a little longer.
“Hey,” you call after slipping off your shoe and removing the temporary boot. You only have to wear it for a few more days and really only if you’re going to be doing a lot of walking.
Jungkook spins around, spatula in hand, with a giant grin on his face. “You’re home! I hope you don’t mind. I thought I could at least make dinner. As a thank you for letting me crash here the last few days. I feel bad for invading your space.”
“You don’t have to thank me, though I won’t say no to whatever you’re making. It smells absolutely divine. Is that garlic?”
“Yes! I made some samgyeopsal and japchae. There are also some pajeon staying warm in the oven. Are you hungry? It’s all ready.” He looks at you hopeful, hands clasped around the spatula handle.
Your stomach gives an appreciative rumble. “Most definitely. Let me go change real quick, and then we can eat.”
The domestic feel of coming home to someone making dinner for you in the kitchen sparks you as surprisingly comforting. You’re so used to coming home to an empty space, preparing a small meal, and then spending time with your own thoughts and activities. Having Jungkook here, even for this short of a time, has made you realize how much you enjoy coming home to a space that’s not so empty.
When you make it into your room, you notice there is a silver boutique bag sitting on your bed. Inside there is a sage-colored cashmere button-up cardigan and a pair of butter soft yoga pants with a built-in belly band.
“I thought you might like them. You mentioned last night how you needed a new pair of lounge pants and that you accidentally got sauce on your favorite sweater. I know it’s not much, but I went out to lunch with Taehyung and Jimin this afternoon and saw that cardigan in a window, and it reminded me of you.” Jungkook fills the doorway of your room, his shadow stretching long across the foot of your bed.
“Jungkook, this is—” The cardigan and pants are both softer than probably anything else in your wardrobe, and it’s on the tip of your tongue to tell him it’s far too much, and you can’t accept it, but you realize maybe you need this as much as he does “—wonderful. Thank you.”
There is a soft boyishness to the way he smiles, dropping his eyes from yours as he rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I’ll let you change. I’m going to set the table.”
He disappears back down the hall, and you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Now, more than anything, you don’t want to tarnish what seems to be turning into a perfect night with a conversation about Jiyoon.
Normally, you would wash clothes before wearing them, but it’s too tempting to try the pants and cardigan on. They both fit perfectly and feel like velvety hugs against your skin. When you come out of your room, Jungkook is sitting at the dining table. Steaming dishes of vegetables, noodles, meat, and onion pancakes sit beside two plates and sets of cutlery. A chilled glass of water and a set of cutlery with a folded napkin sits beside your placemat.
“It looks amazing,” you tell Jungkook as you take your seat. “I didn’t realize you could cook.”
“Because I’m a man?” he asks, raising a brow at you in jest.
“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” You stick your tongue out at him, and he laughs. “Because you’ve never told me.”
“You’ve never asked.” Jungkook serves you first, giving you generous portions of everything.
“Touche. What other talents do you have that I don’t know about?”
Jungkook looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Does being really good at video games count?”
“Video games?” you giggle. “I guess that depends on how good we’re talking here.”
Jungkook’s eyes gleam with mischievous intent as he brings them back to yours. “Play me some time and find out.”
You laugh again. “I don’t think that would be a fair assessment at all.”
He grins, his white teeth flashing. “What about you? Do you have any talents I don’t know about?”
There is one thing you’ve never shared with anyone before, and you’re not sure what makes you want to share it with Jungkook, but you find yourself opening up regardless. “I’m not sure if it would be considered a talent. But, have you ever heard of the children’s book series ‘Tales of Buttercup and Biscuit’?”
“Isn’t that the one about the cat and dog that go on secret adventures together but have to hide their friendship because cats and dogs aren’t supposed to get along?”
Your teeth press into your bottom lip, a habit of yours that you’ve tried and failed to break many times. “That’s the one.”
Jungkook looks at you, waiting for you to continue, but you just let it hang there in the air, hoping he’ll put the pieces together. The moment it clicks, you see a spark of surprise in his suddenly wide eyes. “Wait, no. No! That’s you?! My little cousin loves those books. He raves about them all the time!”
“It’s nothing, really. Just something I enjoy in my spare time.”
“A published book series is not nothing,” Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re far too humble. Wow. Just wow. That’s amazing. Your secret talent is definitely way better than mine.”
The conversation continues throughout dinner and carries into a shared dessert of coffee patisseries and vanilla ice cream. Jungkook sits on one end of the couch with you on the other, your feet in his lap as he massages them. The empty dishes from dessert sit discarded on the floor beside the couch.
“That feels good,” you sigh. “I didn’t think my feet would be swelling this much this early on.”
“What does it feel like?” Jungkook asks, his eyes lifting to yours from under his brow as he’s bent over your feet.
“Having swollen feet?”
“Well, not just that, but everything. What’s it like being pregnant?”
You think about it for a moment, wanting to give as best an answer as possible. “It’s hard to say, really. I imagine it’s different for everyone. But, for me, it’s I ate too much food for dinner, if that makes sense? It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but I can tell my stomach is expanding, and my body is making more room on the inside. Sometimes, I think I can feel a flutter, like movement. Right here,” you say, pressing a hand on the right side at the bottom of your bump. “But I read online that since this is my first, it might be a few more weeks before I actually feel any movement.”
Jungkook uses the flat of his thumbs to knead the ball of your left foot. The lotion sitting on the side table has a subtle lilac scent. He squeezes a small dollop in his hand and goes back to work. You know Jungkook is particular about heavy scents, so when he asked for lotion to use while massaging your feet, you grabbed the one with the lightest scent.
“Would you…” Jungkook begins but trails off, pursing his lips as if reconsidering what he was about to ask. “Do you think that when you do start to feel movement—what I’m trying to say is, would you be comfortable with letting me try to feel them, too?”
“Of course. Absolutely. Why wouldn’t—”
The sound of Jungkook’s phone chiming cuts you off. You recognize the ringtone, and suddenly, a leaden weight sits in the pit of your stomach.
Jungkook licks his lips nervously, his eyes flicking between yours and where the phone is tucked into his pocket. “I—uh, I should probably…get that. I’m sorry. Do you mind?” He points down the hall, and you assume he’s asking if he can step into your room or the bathroom for some privacy.
You pull your feet off his lap and give him a quick nod, unsure you can trust yourself not to tell him not to answer it, to beg him to let this spell of peace last a little while longer. Jungkook gives you an apologetic smile before retreating down the hall, his form disappearing into the dark.
A moment later, you hear the distinct click of the bathroom closing and the lock rolling into place. You can’t help but feel like things are about to change, and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
Running a hand through his hair, Jungkook pushes it back from his face before sitting on the lip of the tub and swiping to answer the call.
“Ju-Jungkook?” Jiyoon’s voice cracks through the line and it tears at Jungkook’s heart. No matter how hurt he is right now, he’s never liked the sound of her crying. It’s ingrained in his soul to immediately want to console her, to tell her not to cry and that everything will be okay. Only, any comforting words he might normally say crumble like dust on his tongue. “Jungkook. Please. I can’t do this. I’m…I’m so sorry.”
Over the last few days, when Jungkook did allow himself to think about this moment, he expected to feel some sort of relief with those words. ‘I’m sorry’. Hearing them now, though, the only thing he feels is sorrow.
“I don’t know that I can believe you.” That’s all his mind will allow him to utter in response because it is genuinely the truth.
Jungkook and Jiyoon have been together for around six years. In all those years, not a single day has been spent hating her or feeling anything less than love for her. Sure, there have been dark times, but that’s never been able to truly overshadow his love for his wife.
When they first met, he was captivated by her headstrong and resilient nature. He was drawn to the way she seemed to take charge of a room from the moment she walked in. It wasn’t hard to fall in love with her.
Despite that seemingly rock-steady exterior, Jiyoon also showed him a tender side of her nature that few got to see. She had compassion and loved helping people, volunteering in her spare time to work on humanitarian projects and hosting fundraisers. She once told him that if she didn’t love marketing and media so much, she’d probably have opened her own non-profit to raise awareness for gender inequalities.
It wasn’t until a few years ago that she really started to change. There were fewer of those tender moments and more of the stone-faced, withdrawn woman he knows now. A ghost of who she once was…or maybe just who she was always meant to be—who she really was all along.
“You have every right to say that.” Jiyoon clears her throat, and Jungkook can almost see her dabbing at her face with a tissue, blotting away smears of mascara and eyeliner. “But I am sorry. I didn’t mean all those things I said to you the other night. I was mad, hurt, and lashing out. It…it’s not true, what I said about the baby.”
A twinge of something pangs in Jungkook’s chest. “What?”
“The baby, it is yours, Jungkook. I know you didn’t fuck my friend. God, I can’t believe I accused you of that. I know you’d never do that. I just…I was so mad. I was so mad I couldn’t think straight.”
“That’s not a good enough excuse, Jiyoon.” Jungkook carefully considers his words, trying to be honest without being too harsh. No matter what transpired, Jiyoon is still a person and deserves to be treated as such. “What you said…what you insinuated, that hurt me.”
“I know, baby. I didn’t mean it. Well, I did mean it. I wanted to hurt you, wanted to make you feel like I was feeling, but only because you hurt me first. And I know that’s silly, awful, and childish. I just couldn’t stop myself once I had started.” Jiyoon sighs, the sound exhausted. “The baby is yours, Jungkook. I swear.”
“I want to believe you, Jiyoon, I really do. I’m just not sure you saying sorry is enough. That’s not just something you spout out off the handle, most lies hold a semblance of truth.”
Jiyoon hums softly, and Jungkook knows she’s trying to collect her thoughts and form them into words. “There…is some truth in what I said—” she pauses when Jungkook lets out a heavy breath “—but not like that, not about the baby. The truth is in the fact that I was scared, and intimidated by the way you care so much about another woman. And yes, even if that woman is my friend.”
“She’s carrying my child, a child she agreed to carry for us. Of course, I’m going to make sure she is taken care of and want to be a part of as much of the process as possible. I thought you were also doing that? Don’t you talk to her, spend time with her, bond over pregnancy? It’s the same thing.”
She doesn’t immediately answer. Then, “Probably not as much as I should have.”
Jungkook is taken aback by this revelation. He thought surely the two of you were in constant contact and sharing the experience of it all together. You haven’t brought up anything that would make Jungkook think otherwise, but then again, he’s never bothered to ask either.
“You can’t expect me to distance myself or treat her any differently when she is carrying something that is meant to be so precious to the both of us.” Jungkook means that with his entire being. If anything, he thinks he could even treat you better than he currently does, and make more of an effort in some areas.
“It’s…just hard, okay? I know it’s not an excuse, but you kept missing my appointments because you were busy spending time with her instead. I know the last time it was an emergency and I take full responsibility for my actions and the words I said. But, I promise, everything I said was just out of anger. I mean,” she laughs, the sound lightly incredulous and humorless, “why would I accuse you of cheating and then immediately confess to cheating? That’s kind of silly when you think about it, right?”
Jungkook did consider it when trying to make it all make sense. But he just chalked it up to Jiyoon possibly projecting her own actions and guilt onto Jungkook when she accused him, to begin with. The fact that her tactic changed to say the worst possible thing to hurt him just seems par for the course.
“I guess, maybe.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders even though Jiyoon can’t see him. “I don’t know what to think anymore, to be honest with you.”
Jiyoon sniffles, her voice rough with tears, “I understand that. I accept that. And I promise to make it up to you. Just come back home, and we can work through it.”
That would be the easy thing to do…but also maybe the last thing he should do. Jungkook is aware that Jiyoon knows his weaknesses. All it would take is a few well-placed words, and he’d forgive her completely and forget that all this had even happened. It’s happened before, perhaps more than it should have.
That is why he says, “I don’t know, Jiyoon. I don’t think that’s a good idea—not right away, at least.”
“Jungkook. Please,” she cries. “Please, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I feel like I’ve lost you and…and I can’t, I just can’t. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, I’ll do whatever it takes. Just, please, please…” Her desperate pleas turn into incoherent sobs.
“Hey, hey,” Jungkook coos, his deeply ingrained instincts kicking in despite knowing he should try to hold out. “Calm down, shh, hey, deep breaths. Just like that, good. Come on, one more. Smooth, calm.” Once her cries have subsided into hiccuping spurts, Jungkook takes a deep breath and offers the only thing he can right now, “How about we take things slow? Maybe we can meet for lunch at the end of the week if you’re not too busy with work.”
“O-okay, yeah. Yes, please. Okay, let’s do that, I’ll clear my schedule,” Jiyoon accepts quickly, voice still thick with emotion but Jungkook can hear the smallest hint of a smile in her words.
By the time Jungkook leaves the bathroom, you’re no longer sitting on the couch. The leftovers from dinner have been put away, and the kitchen has been cleaned up. A wave of guilt-laden regret washes through Jungkook. He feels bad you did all the cleanup by yourself.
Tonight had started out so promising. It would be an injustice for Jungkook not to admit he enjoyed tonight more than he has any night in the last few years. You’re just so easy to be around, so soft and calm, your energy a pleasant buzz instead of a trumpeting cacophony like Jiyoon's. It’s a wonder you’ve been friends with her for as long as you have, being near complete opposites. Yet…not in a bad way.
Jungkook swallows hard at that revelation. Maybe he can blame the falling out on feeling disconnected from Jiyoon and more connected to…well, to someone who isn’t his wife.
It’s a startling realization—one that leaves him tormented with uncertainty and falling into a sleep so fitful it tempts him to knock on your door. The closest he gets is standing outside your closed bedroom door, his fist poised, hovering over the hardwood. But, in the end, he crawls back into his makeshift bed on the couch and doesn’t sleep a wink.
Jungkook wants to talk with you about his conversation with Jiyoon, but there hasn’t been a moment of freedom to do more than the typical day-to-day check-in. He doesn’t want to just say, ‘Oh, hey, by the way, Jiyoon said she lied, and we’re going to have lunch to talk it out in a few days.’ It’s a conversation that definitely needs more time and grace.
To make up for the shoot you rescheduled for him since he’s now feeling much better, Jungkook decided to take on a last-minute speaking engagement at the grand re-opening of a downtown shop that has a contract deal with one of his brands.
After hours of smiling and posing for pictures, Jungkook met with Taehyung for lunch and then lost himself for a few more hours at the gym of your apartment complex while he waited for you to get home. When he finally returned to your place, a covered dish of food, still warm in the oven, was waiting for him, and you were already in bed.
As Jungkook eats the food you prepared for him, he can’t stop kicking himself for the opportunity lost. He really wants to talk to you before meeting with Jiyoon for lunch tomorrow. He values not only your opinion on the whole situation but also the fact that you know Jiyoon nearly as well as, if not more than, he does. So, he hopes he can catch you in the morning before you go to work. Unless…you’re intentionally avoiding him, a thought that hits deeper than maybe it should.
💔💔💔
You hate being late to work, but when you woke up this morning your stomach had plans you couldn’t exactly foresee. In between moments of hugging the toilet, you manage to send Namjoon an email letting him know you’ll be a little late this morning.
Thirty minutes later, feeling marginally better, you finish getting ready and are surprised to catch Jungkook in the kitchen making breakfast. You’ve not necessarily been avoiding him, but you’ve also not not been. You might have overheard the tail-end of his conversation with Jiyoon two nights ago and haven’t been able to shake this foreboding feeling ever since.
“Good morning,” you say as you slip past him and start to make a cup of tea.
Jungkook looks at you over his shoulder. “Morning. You feeling okay?”
“I just had a bit of a spell this morning. I’m feeling much better now. I'm just going to make my tea to-go and then be on my way.”
“Hey, um, do you think we could talk? I’ve been meaning to bring it up since the other night, but I just…timing hasn’t exactly been on my side, and well…”
“I got a few minutes, sure. I already emailed Namjoon to let him know I would be coming in a bit late today.”
“Great. Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll finish your tea, and I also made some muffins,” he says, shooing you toward the dining table before turning back and opening the oven. The smell of fresh banana muffins wafts to you and makes your mouth water.
“So, what’s up?” you ask when Jungkook sits down.
You watch him prepare your tea, adding the perfect amount of honey and cream. It’s such an insignificant thing, tea, but the fact Jungkook knows how you like yours, makes you feel good…really good.
“Well, we haven’t exactly talked about everything that happened. Taehyung told me he filled you in on what all I told him, but I don’t know if he told you…everything.”
It’s hard not to let the topic of conversation sour your mood. But this is a conversation you know has needed to happen, so you begrudgingly don’t pull away from it. “He told me that Jiyoon told you…about her baby and then something about me and you.” That’s a very vanilla version of it, but you don’t want to say any more details than necessary.
“Right. That’s the gist of it. She apologized to me the other night when she called. She claimed she only said those things out of anger and because she was hurt. It was her way of hurting me for hurting her. I guess I haven’t exactly taken her feelings into account with some stuff lately, and when I missed her twenty-two-week appointment, she lost it and said all those things to get back at me for it.”
Jungkook makes it seem so innocent, so cut and dry…so, forgivable.
“I see.”
“I’m having lunch with her today, so we can talk some more. She wants to work things out and asked me to come back home.”
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that the metallic zing of blood coats your tongue. “And are you?”
“Going to lunch, yes. Back home? I don’t know. I have to go home sometime, I suppose.”
The confusion on Jungkook’s face is clear to you, like he doesn’t know up from down when it comes to what he wants right now. But you also see resignation, like he knows it’s inevitable that he’ll be back home soon, whether or not Jiyoon is there, too.
“I…okay, I understand that.” It’s not your place to beg him not to go. Jungkook is his own person and can make his own decisions. However, what you can do is tell him how it makes you feel. “Just know, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I know sleeping on the couch probably isn’t super comfortable, but I’m just saying. You always have a place here, no matter what. I’m sure there are a lot of things you and Jiyoon need to discuss, just—” you sigh, pressing on even though you’re not sure if Jungkook will be receptive to your criticisms “—be careful. Don’t accept something because it’s the easy way, be sure it’s something you want and that you protect yourself above all other things.”
It’s possible you’re seeing what you want to see, or maybe it’s really there, but for a moment, you’re certain there is a flash of something more in Jungkook’s eyes—something that says he wishes you told him not to do it. But it’s gone before you can decide if it was there or just your imagination.
When you finally make it in, Jiyoon is floating around the office like a fairy. Her chiming laugh fills the space, and she’s absolutely glowing in her pregnancy. Everyone in the office says so, complimenting how luminous her skin is and how shiny her long black hair looks. You’ve gotten some compliments, too, but they’ve been mixed in with whispers and office gossip.
Even before Junkook and Jiyoon had their falling out, seemingly everyone found out about what you offered to do for them. When Jiyoon first revealed that you were pregnant with a baby for her and Jungkook, one specifically composed of your DNA and his, the entire office seemed to have an opinion about it—not all positive, either.
There are quite a few different options for surrogacy available thanks to the advances of modern medicine, and the method that Jungkook presented to you is the one that he believes suits the fertility issues Jiyoon was facing the best.
When it first came out, Namjoon had taken you aside into his office to talk about the implications of having a more than professional relationship with a client and how important it is to maintain boundaries, the typical HR spiel to which you politely agreed and promised him things weren’t going to interfere with work. You wonder now if you need to have another conversation with Namjoon about not being able to keep that promise, considering recent events.
Jiyoon catches your eye as she picks up a small pink bag from Dani’s desk, a bright smile on her face. “Hey, you!” she calls to you.
“Hey,” you mutter in response, still unsure how you feel about everything Jungkook told you this morning. You know it’s entirely possible. Blowing something out of proportion is exactly Jiyoon's thing to do. She loves to wound with words, lashing out with a viper tongue when the mood suits her.
“Can we talk for a minute?” she asks, stepping close to you and lowering her voice.
”Yeah, sure.”
”Great, let me just put this on my desk real fast.” She gives the pink gift bag she got from Dani a little shake.
You follow her to where your desks are. She drops off the pink present, and it joins a scattering of other pastel pink and yellow wrapped gifts or baggies. A sinking feeling hits you, and you mentally connect the dots to what that could possibly mean.
“A girl?”
Her eyes are vibrant when they meet yours. “Yeah, isn’t it exciting? A daughter.”
A sister.
Knowing your son could possibly have a sister should be exciting. Yet…if it’s supposed to be exciting, then why do you suddenly desire to run away and hide to protect your son? Also, since when did you start thinking of the baby as yours? You shake away that thought, clear your throat, and plaster on a strained smile.
“Exciting, yeah. Congratulations. If I had known we were bringing gifts today, I would have grabbed something.”
“Oh, nonsense. But, about what I wanted to talk to you about,” she says, waving a hand to dismiss what you said about the gift.
You wait for her to go on, but she glances around and then takes your arm and tugs you closer to the supply closet on this side of the office, notably as far away from your coworkers as you can get without going to the restroom or Namjoon’s personal office.
“What is it?” you ask, crossing your arms under your breasts. It breaks her hold on your arm, but the tightening feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach says you also feel like you need a hug, and your own arms are the best you have right now.
Her voice is pitched low, her body angled so her back is more to the office space and any curious eyes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Genuinely, and truly. You are my best friend, and I know I’ve been less than stellar with you for a while now. Everything got away from me, and I was acting out, being a bully, and just a horrible person all around. Then everything with the babies and all the issues between Jungkook and I, and well…I know that doesn’t justify how I acted, but now Jungkook is upset with me, and I don’t know what to do. I just thought that maybe—well, if things were okay between us, then maybe he’d come home. I didn’t realize what I said to him would hurt you, too. I thought you would have known better since we’ve been friends for so long.”
Once upon a time, you would have said without a doubt that you could tell when Jiyoon was being dishonest with you or not. Now, however, you’re not so sure. You wish Jungkook were here so you could look to him for his opinion, which has been something you’ve come to greatly appreciate.
“Okay, I guess. Thanks for apologizing.” This comes out more as a question than a statement, but it seems to satisfy Jiyoon.
“Great! I’m glad you understand and that we’re on the same page. So, you’ll tell him to come home? Oh, and I meant what I said the other day. We should have lunch sometime soon. I’d love to chat about how the next few months are going to go. We’ll have to figure out how to coordinate bringing my babies home. Can’t be too prepared, right? Plus, it’ll be here before we know it.”
Your spine straightens, and your muscles tense as Jiyoon throws her arms around your neck and hugs you. For the second time in a matter of days, the press of her stomach against yours makes you uncomfortable. Something isn’t sitting right with you, this whole interaction feels off, and you just can’t put your finger on why.
Patting her on the back lightly, you disengage and give her what you hope is a polite smile before telling her you need to get some work done. There is something about this interaction, something about Jiyoon, that just…has your alarm bells going off. Everything about the last few months has you rethinking a lot of things…and perhaps the first thing on that list should be your friendship with Jiyoon.
As soon as you sit at your desk, your first reaction is to pull out your phone and text Jungkook. But, you stop yourself, leaving the device in your bag. Jungkook told you he was having lunch with Jiyoon today, and you don’t want to bother him with something that is probably nothing.
If, by the end of the day, you still can’t shake this unsteady feeling, then you vow to allow yourself the grace to bring your feelings and concerns to Jungkook. Not in the hopes of persuading him in any way, but to hopefully have an outside perspective on whether or not you’re reaching here.
Something does feel off. But maybe that something is you and what is turning out to be the not-so-tiny, very significant, completely not-harmless crush you have on Jungkook. The fact that you don’t even want to think of him as your friend’s husband anymore is quite telling in and of itself.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
There have been times in Jungkook’s life when he wished he could go back in time and change things. It hasn’t happened often, but when it does, the thing he would change is always life-altering in some way.
For instance, he would go back in time and change the way he approached the subject of wanting to have children with Jiyoon. Or, rather, he might even go back to before they got engaged—which was maybe too soon itself, considering they got engaged and married within a year of first meeting—and insist they talk about their future wants and desires to make sure that they aligned.
Jungkook isn’t sure why it took him so long to think about it, but with everything that has happened in the last few months, he can’t help but look back on it now. He’s sitting in his car, waiting for Jiyoon to arrive at the BBQ place she chose for lunch. It was still thirty minutes until their agreed-upon time, but Jungkook had nothing else to do.
So, here he is, with his thoughts. Jungkook brought up the desire of wanting to have children four years into their marriage, which was two years ago now. Two years, that feel like two decades, of an uphill battle in which Jungkook thought he and Jiyoon were on the same page. Only, that wasn’t always the case.
It seems so vague a memory now, but it’s there nonetheless. Jiyoon expressed her own thoughts about children; she didn’t want them. At least, not so soon. He’s not sure if he can place the moment in their marriage when she changed her mind, because it all feels so seamless to Jungkook.
Thinking back on their journey, Jiyoon suggested they start trying more often. However, Jiyoon also took their passionate moments of indulgence and made them into robotic meetings of anatomy. Jungkook definitely remembers that pivotal moment in their relationship.
Perhaps that is something else he would go back and change. He’d approach the idea of seeking medical assistance differently. He wouldn’t have gone behind Jiyoon’s back and sought answers she wasn’t ready to have. Maybe if he’d have been more delicate about it, the schedule would have never come into play.
As with all thoughts about changing the past, he can’t help but wonder whether what happened was a good thing. After all, if the child Jiyoon is carrying is indeed his, maybe it was the schedule that helped in the end anyway.
With so many thoughts, Jungkook feels like he might drown if he continues with all the what-ifs and whys of it all. Turning on his radio, he reclines his seat and brings up the camera roll on his phone. This has turned into one of his favorite pastimes, scrolling through all the happy images and memories he has saved here.
His thumb pauses, hovering over one of the more recent shots. The day he found out he was having a son, the day his world upended just a few hours later. Your smiling face, unshed tears in your eyes, pressed close to his, the ultrasound tech having insisted on capturing the delicate moment of pure rapture when you and Jungkook got to see that you were growing his son inside of you.
There are a few other shots of you, candid moments Jungkook captured because one day, no matter what anyone else thinks, he’s going to tell his son where he came from and show him the beautiful, thoughtful, and selfless woman who helped Jungkook create him. What better way to do that than through moments forever rendered in technicolor? Just to be safe, Jungkook clicks through and adds them all to his cloud.
Jungkook notices with a bitter pang of disappointment that he has so few pictures of Jiyoon pregnant. Anytime she catches him trying to take one, she gets really upset. The last time it happened, she cried, locked herself in the bathroom, and wouldn’t come out no matter how much Jungkook apologized. He didn’t see her until the next morning.
He nearly drops his phone as it chimes with an incoming text message from Jiyoon. She is inside and waiting for him, it says. Knowing this is the right step forward, Jungkook rights his seat and climbs out of the car, heading inside.
“Hey, over here!” Jiyoon calls to him as soon as he steps past the host stand.
As always, she looks gorgeous. The plum-colored off-the-shoulder cable-knit sweater compliments the soft flush in her cheeks, and the black slacks accentuate her long legs. It’s hard to see her bump through the sweater, the fabric chunky in an intentional way.
She resumes her seat when he starts her way. “Hey,” Jungkook replies, taking the seat across from her.
“I went ahead and put in an order for the honey pork and beef. I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure, sounds great.” Jungkook clears his throat a few times, not sure what else to say. He pours himself a glass of water and begins to pour Jiyoon one before he even realizes it. It’s just so natural for him to do so.
“Thanks.” She gives him a smile as she accepts the glass. “And thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”
One of Jungkook’s shoulders kicks up in a half-shrug. “We have to talk sometime. And sooner is probably better than later.” A muscle feathers along his jaw as he clenches it. “Where would you like to begin?”
Jungkook feels like maybe he’s being a bit too cold or standoffish to Jiyoon, considering their near seven year history and the fact she’s his wife, for crying out loud. But, if he’s being honest, he’s still not over all the bullshit she said and the way she acted.
“Would you like to know the gender?” she asks hesitantly. Her right hand comes down and forms the front of her sweater over her belly, making it stand out.
Does he want to know? Yes. Of course, he does. No matter what has transpired, whether true or not, the baby is innocent in this.
“I would.”
The prominent thump of his heart echoes in his ears as Jiyoon slides a small, facedown picture across the table. “You can keep it if you want…I have a copy.”
With a slow exhale, Jungkook pinches the corner of the photo and turns it over. It’s so similar to many of the other grainy, black-and-white ultrasound images he’s seen over the last several weeks. But right there, toward the top right corner, is a single word, white text floating in the abyss of the static-like scan.
Girl.
“A girl,” Jungkook whispers, the word rushing from his mouth like he caught a fist in the gut. That fist moves up and takes a stranglehold on his heart next. It’s almost painful to breathe. Everything that was before, seems so much less significant now.
“Our daughter,” Jiyoon confirms, reaching out and gripping his free hand that was trembling on the table.
Tears sting Jungkook’s eyes, and he has to blink several times before he’s certain they won’t drip onto the photo. The first thought he has when everything comes rushing back in is that he needs to tell you, and wants to share in this joy with you. “My son is going to have a sister.”
He must have spoken aloud because Jiyoon lets out a startled gasp. “Your son? You mean the other baby is a boy?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Didn’t you know? I just thought maybe…” Jungkook trails off because he’s come to learn better that Jiyoon isn’t quite the friend he thought she was to you. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit if Jiyoon hadn’t spoken to you at all in the last week since everything went to shit.
Jiyoon sighs. “I did talk to her today—earlier, in fact. But we didn’t talk about the babies, not really. I…uh, I apologized to her for what I said and how I’ve been acting.” Her nose twitches as she sniffs, averting her gaze from Jungkook’s. “I’ve been such a shit friend lately, and after everything with you, I knew I needed to make it right. Or at least start trying to make it right. Everything has just happened so quickly, I feel like I’m drowning sometimes. And…a-and when my life preserver—” her eyes flick back to his for a moment, and he knows she means him “—isn’t there, I panic, and I guess that means I try to bring the whole ship down with me. I meant what I said, Jungkook, I am sorry about everything. What I said was awful, and that’s not the kind of person I want to be, not the kind of mother I want to be for our children. Will you come home? Please? I don’t want to spend another night alone in our home.”
“Maybe…I guess I can sleep in the guest room for a while? You know, just until I can get my head back on straight.”
“You mean that?” she asks, her grip tightening on his hand.
Looking back down at the photo still pinched between his fingers, he knows what the right thing to do is. There might still be a small sliver of doubt, but this baby—this little girl—deserves for him to give her a chance.
“Yeah, I mean that.”
💔💔💔
When Jiyoon returns to work after her lunch with Jungkook, that intense feeling from before increases. She’s far too happy right now for having just had lunch with the husband she shattered less than a week ago. You tap the screen on your phone, which sits on your desk, and you’re tempted to text Jungkook and ask him how it went. But a shadow falling over your desk draws your attention away.
“I brought you back something,” Jiyoon says with a smile, offering you a white paper bag.
You catch the scent of cinnamon and sugar as you accept the bag. A peek inside reveals a large pinwheel wrapped in wax paper, the bottom of the bag is warm, so you know it’s fresh.
“Um, okay. Thanks.”
“Jungkook mentioned that you’ve developed a bit of a sweet tooth thanks to Little Man. It’s probably not as good as his homemade banana bread, but I know you like cinnamon rolls, so I thought you might enjoy a treat.” She leans against the wall partition that separates your desk from hers. “I know I can’t seem to stop snacking on pretzels. Cute, right? Salty and sweet, already the perfect duo.”
Of course Jungkook would have told her the gender of the baby. You may not have signed the legal papers just yet, but there is no way you can even begin to think about keeping this baby from Jungkook. So, if with Jungkook comes Jiyoon, then you’re going to have to try to come to terms with some things or at least have a very open and meaningful conversation with them both. That’s something that strikes you suddenly, realizing that not once since you agreed to do surrogacy for them have all three of you sat down together to talk.
“So, lunch went okay?” You can’t help but ask. The need to know is far too great. This is a good segue into hopefully asking if the next lunch can include all three of you.
Jiyoon presses the tips of her fingers to her forehead. “Thankfully, yes. You’ll be happy to hear Jungkook is coming back home tonight, so he’ll be out of your hair soon. I, um, I hope things are okay between you and me. I know an apology doesn’t really do much, but I have another peace offering to go with the gooey goodness in that wrapper,” she beams, tapping the bag sitting on your desk.
Another peace offering? You have no idea what that could possibly be. “You have something else?”
Jiyoon leans toward her desk, and you hear the sound of papers shuffling before she produces a sheaf of papers. “It’s a birthing plan! I thought maybe making up your plan would help take that stress off of you. Especially considering our situation is a pretty special one. Everything there is what I would like to happen, but of course, if you need to add anything, that’s fine, too.”
There are easily a dozen papers stapled together here. It’s a detailed, bulleted list of requests. It covers everything from who is allowed in the birthing room and who cuts the cord to whether or not you can have an epidural and if you can hold the baby right after birth.
You scan the pages, your eyes snagging on at least every other word. Jiyoon wants Dani in the birthing room? She wants a doctor to cut the cord so the baby can be immediately given to her for skin-to-skin contact. Jungkook is allowed in the room, but only if he’s standing where he can’t see the birth. In parentheses beside that, there is ‘because it’ll be weird if he watches the baby come out’.
No epidural and only a heparin or saline lock for administering fluids if necessary. She wants you to be able to move around while in labor, but it’s listed that you’re only allowed to labor on your back so Jiyoon can watch her son being born. You’re only allowed to use a birthing ball, and absolutely no warm baths or showers.
In the event of a cesarean, Jiyoon will be the only one allowed into the operating room for support. The baby is to be fed exclusively breast milk but not directly from the breast. Below that is a list of top-of-the-line breast pumps and where to order them.
“Jiyoon. Are you serious?”
“What is it? What’s wrong with that? Do you not like it? Like I said, you can add things if you want. But, it would be nice if you let me know before you did. This is really the perfect plan and exactly what I want for my baby.”
Jiyoon huffs, her bottom lip poking out as she frowns at you shaking your head slowly.
“No epidural?”
“I’ve read that they can have some complications. Do you really want to take that risk?”
You poke the paper, your finger jabbing at one of the other things listed. “You want Dani in the room? She and I aren’t even friends.”
“Well, she’s my friend. It’s not like she’s going to be all up in your vagina. She’ll just be there to support me.”
“Support you?! Jiyoon, I get that this would be a special day for you, but I’ll be the one giving birth—which I see here you have it listed that you want me to try and get induced two weeks early? Why would I do that? My doctor says the only time we would want to induce early is if something is going on or, in some cases, of gestational diabetes, and my glucose test isn’t for another month.”
Jiyoon looks at you like you just grew a second head. “I thought I was doing you a favor!”
“Jiyoon, this isn’t doing me a favor. T-this…this isn’t a favor. This is you trying to control things that should at least be something we both consider. What if I don’t want any of this? Shouldn’t what I want matter, too?”
This has to be a joke.
“I thought what you wanted was to have a baby for me?”
You push back from your desk, tired of literally sitting here and taking this. “You could have talked to me about this. But it sounds like you’re not wanting to give me a choice. You said I could add things, not that I could take them away, too. Is that it?”
“Look, there’s a certain way I want my son to be brought into this world! Is that so bad? You’re acting like I’m asking you to do something insane.”
The heat licking its way across your cheeks is a product of pure anger. Maybe you shouldn’t be getting this bent out of shape over this. Jiyoon seems to have the best intentions with her list, but you can’t help but think that not once in this entire process has she asked what you want. In the beginning, you were constantly trying to talk to her and include her. Even if it was just a text message since she was so busy. Yet, she hasn’t once returned that in kind. Now this? You can’t do it.
“Ladies, is everything okay?” Namjoon’s baritone breaks through the silence that had fallen between you and Jiyoon.
You only realize now that the entire office is quiet, listening to you and Jiyoon volley words back and forth. A few throats clear, and people resume pretending to ignore the two of you, but it’s clear anyone within a twenty-foot radius was just eavesdropping in on the drama.
“It’s fine, Namjoon,” you say, meeting his eyes before turning back to Jiyoon. “Maybe we can talk more about this when we’re not at work?”
Jiyoon purses her lips, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she nods. “Sure, yeah. We can do that.”
No further opportunity presents itself for you and Jiyoon to talk. Not today, at least. It also could be that you weren’t exactly looking for an opportunity to do so. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about that stupid list.
Even now, you clutch it in one of your hands as you unlock your apartment door with the other. You don’t necessarily want to cry to Jungkook about it, more just have a conversation with him. Find out whether or not he’s aware of everything Jiyoon wants to impose on you.
Because that’s exactly what it is, what it feels like. This isn’t a birth plan, it’s a list of demands that do not take your wants or needs into consideration in the slightest.
“Everything okay?” Jungkook’s voice breaks through your mental tirade.
You stop in your tracks, eyes snapping up to meet his. Jungkook is standing in your living room, a small pile of laundry sitting on the couch that he seems to be in the middle of folding.
It takes you a moment to decide how to answer him. All the while, his eyes remain open and vulnerable on yours. You chew your lip, feeling angry tears prick at the backs of your eyes.
“No.”
The moment that word is out of your mouth, tears follow it, coursing down your cheeks in hot, twin streaks. Jungkook abandons the shirt in his hands and crosses the living room to you in an instant. His hands land on your shoulders, and his eyes flick over your face and body, searching for signs of anything physically wrong.
“Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Your fist tightens around the list before you hold it up and offer it to him. “Have you seen this?”
Jungkook takes the sheaf of paper and quickly scans the first page before flipping through the others. “A birth plan? Did you make this?”
“Jiyoon did. Apparently, these are the things she wants—no, demands—for when I give birth.”
“What?” His eyes come up to meet yours. “Some of this stuff is kind of…I don’t know, like this,” he says, pointing to the fifth bullet on the page. “Getting induced two weeks early? Shouldn’t that be a decision your doctor talks to you about? Also, support persons who are allowed in the room. I can understand Jiyoon and me, maybe her parents, sure. But Dani? I didn’t even think you and Dani were friends like that.”
“Because we’re not. This entire list is everything she wants, her support people, her wishes for how things go, and not once has she asked me what I want.” Your voice rises in pitch as you plow on, “I guess it doesn’t matter, though, does it? Because, as she’s made it clear, it’s not my baby, after all.”
Jungkook shakes his head, a muscle along his jaw ticking as he presses his lips into a thin line. “Don’t say it like that. You matter. This matters. You need bodily autonomy over a lot of these decisions. And if you don’t want someone in the room, they won’t be. If you want an epidural, as long as the doctor says it’s okay, then it’s okay. That’s what’s important. What you want and what the doctor says is okay. I’m sorry she did this. I’ll talk to her about it.”
“Because you’re going home, right?” You don’t mean to sound so sad when you say it, but it slips out before you can control your emotions. Maybe it’s the hormones, but the swinging from hot to cold makes you want to scream. You’re usually such a well-collected person.
“I—” Jungkook hesitates, his eyes searching yours “—I need to. What Jiyoon did isn’t right, and going home isn’t me accepting her apology and forgiving her. But I can’t keep sleeping on your couch. I’m going to stay in our guest room as I work through the mess inside my head.”
You know he can hear the resignation in your voice. “Okay, if that’s what you think is best.”
“I think I do. But…there is only one way to be certain, right? Clearly things have been coming to a head between Jiyoon and me for a while now. I’m sorry you’re now in the middle of this. That’s the last thing I wanted when I asked you to be our surrogate. I can’t say that enough, this was never how it was supposed to be.” To your surprise, Jungkook slowly wraps his arms around you. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, Jungkook, that’s okay. Thank you.”
“I promise I’m going to talk to Jiyoon about that birthing plan. It’s unacceptable. You matter, okay? You’re important.”
Maybe to him, you are. But to Jiyoon? You’ve never been more unsure of where you stand. The friend you once knew is not the same woman who has been parading around in the guise of your best friend. You’re not sure who she is anymore…or if you want to give her your baby.
“And Jungkook?” you say as he turns away to go back to his laundry. “Be careful, okay?” You allow yourself a moment of vulnerability, brushing your fingers across the cut of his jaw, where just a week ago, there rested another reason for your uncertainty.
Your heart stutters in your chest at his small nod of acknowledgement. A truth, one you had hoped would remain speculation, reflects in his wide, doe eyes. An uncertainty now confirmed, another crack in the foundation…you’ve never been more scared to shatter.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
Moving back home might have been a mistake. Jiyoon is clingier than ever, but it’s not in a way that feels natural to Jungkook. He once found so much joy in her tender affection and gentle touches. Now, however, he can’t help but pull away, giving her as polite a smile as he can.
There is something that has been bothering him that he can’t seem to make sense of. Ever since he moved back home a week ago, Jiyoon has completely and utterly changed her tune. Not once has she said a biting remark or yelled at him. Not that he’s complaining, per se. It’s just completely thrown him, he’s not sure how to process it. She’s almost being too nice.
Hell, she even gracefully accepted his explanation as to why the birthing plan she made was unacceptable. Jungkook tried to keep a level head when you showed him that ridiculous list, but he was so mad he could hardly think. The only thing that kept him from losing his mind was the fact he knew you needed him more than he needed to be mad. He’s still not sure what the hell Jiyoon was thinking when she made it. But, she didn’t so much as try to counter his argument when he confronted her about it. She just agreed with him and promised she’d make it right with you.
That’s another thing he can’t seem to stop thinking about. You’ve also been different the last week, only in the opposite way Jiyoon has. You’ve not berated him, but you’ve suddenly become more standoffish and distant. Maybe it’s because he’s not spending every night eating dinner with you or watching movies while he massages your feet, but even before all that you were warmer than you are now.
Which is why he’s trying to corner Taehyung right now before he goes back for hair and makeup. He needs to talk to someone who is relatively unbiased and can maybe help him sort his thoughts properly.
“Taehyung, hey, wait up a second.”
“Yo, JK, what’s up?” Taehyung spins on his heel, catching himself on the doorframe to the dressing room.
“Can we talk for a minute?”
Taehyung pokes his head inside the room, and Jungkook can hear his muffled voice as he talks to the staff. “Yep, it’ll just take a moment. I promise I won’t touch the clip,” he says, turning back towards Jungkook. “You’ve got me for ten minutes.”
Jungkook lets out a breath of relief. He feels like he might explode if he doesn’t get all of this off his chest soon. Taehyung is already wearing a dark pin-stripped suit with a deep v and no shirt underneath. A gold chain and pendant sit perfectly in the open front, complementing the ochre thick-strapped sandals on his feet. There is a small hairpin holding the front of his hair into a suave coif that he, despite saying he wouldn’t, pokes at before following Jungkook to a small seating area across the space.
They’re shooting at an old estate today, styling and posing for various fashion items. Jungkook already went through hair and makeup and his first round of photos. He’s just waiting now for his wardrobe change and his cue to be back with the photographer.
“Do you think it was a bad idea for me to have gone back home?”
Taehyung taps his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Why are you asking?”
“I…I don’t know.” And that’s the truth of it. “Things just have been weird since we had that one big argument. It’s like no matter what I do or tell myself, she makes me feel like I’m walking on eggshells.”
“Or is it that you realize you might have enjoyed staying with a certain manager more than you thought you would?” Taehyung raises a brow, and Jungkook scowls at him.
“Don’t even start on that. Of course I would feel comfortable there. It wasn’t a hostile environment.”
“So you agree that the environment where Jiyoon is concerned is a hostile one.”
“That’s not what I said,” Jungkook groans. “Is it?”
“Sounds like it to me.” Taehyung shrugs. Jungkook values Taehyung for his brutal honesty, so instead of insisting his friend stop, he lets him continue. “Look, you know I love you and just want you to be happy. But, if Jiyoon is telling the truth and that baby is yours, then you have two kids coming into this world, and you really need to get your shit figured out.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do, JK. Those babies aren’t going to wait for you to get your shit together. They’re coming in a matter of weeks, whether you’ve got it all figured out or not. I know you and Jiyoon have had a long go at it. You’ve been together for longer than anyone else we know. But, you need to ask yourself if she is the kind of mother you want for your kids. And before you insist she is, I want you to truly think about everything that has transpired. I mean, look at what she said about you and someone who is supposedly her best friend. Someone doesn’t just say that shit because they’re mad. They sure as hell shouldn’t hit anyone because of it, either. There is something going on with Jiyoon—” he taps the side of his head “—up here. And there isn’t a single person who wouldn’t agree that no kid deserves to be brought into a volatile environment. I know that’s not what you had envisioned when you first brought up wanting to have a family.”
“You’re right. But…there’s something else. Something that is maybe making all of this so much worse.”
Jungkook’s knee bounces, nerves wholly consuming him as he prepares to tell Taehyung something he’s only thought about until now. He’s been worried that if he put words to it then it would make it real, but he knows it already is.
Taehyung grins knowingly, the curve of his lips soft and not as teasing as it might usually be. “This should be good. Let’s hear it.”
Your name comes out in a hushed whisper. “I feel like she’s been avoiding me, and it’s driving me crazy. Ever since I went back home, she’s been so distant. I’m worried that she’s upset or something.”
“Well, there is this thing we like to call communication. Have you tried it?”
Jungkook rubs his hands over his face, heedless of messing up his makeup. “I have tried, but it seems like the only thing she wants to talk about is work or baby appointments. It’s like she’s fully in surrogate mode, and that’s all I get.”
“And do you want more?” Taehyung asks, clearly probing to help Jungkook process his thoughts.
“I want her—I want…I don’t know. I care about her. I want her to at least act like my friend,” Jungkook says lamely. Because if there is one thing he’s not sure he’s ready to touch with a twenty-foot pole, it’s the complicated feelings he’s trying to figure out when it comes to you—feelings he’s not sure are real or just a trauma-coping mechanism resulting from his discourse with Jiyoon.
Taehyung claps Jungkook on the shoulder as he stands up. “I need to get in there, but maybe you should ask her to meet up with you. Something strictly not work-related. Maybe get ice cream, or whatever it is pregnant women crave these days. See if you can sus out some more of those feelings I know you got clanging around in there.” His hand moves up from Jungkook’s shoulder to poke the side of his head. “Get all those thoughts out in the open before you go crazy, my friend.”
You agree to meet him for ice cream the next day, provided Jungkook agrees to make an appointment to get new headshots done. With the haircut he got weeks back, it’s needed anyway, so it was easy to accept.
The weather is warming up, and it feels good standing in the sun. It’s been so long since Jungkook allowed himself a moment to breathe and enjoy something so mundane, like the feeling of the sun warming his cheeks.
He’s waiting outside the small walk-up ice cream shop that’s situated in the middle of the park. You agreed to meet him here before an appointment you have with Taehyung. He’s working on some cover spread for a magazine or something like that.
“Sun’s nice, huh?”
Jungkook’s eyes pop open, and he glances back over his shoulder. The sight of you would bring any man to his knees, Jungkook thinks, his own legs giving a little wobble. The floral sundress paired with the sage cardigan Jungkook bought you makes you look like you just stepped off the pages of a romance novel. The wind catches a few stray lengths of your hair and tosses it across your face, drawing Jungkook’s attention to your smile.
“You’re beautiful. Um, I mean, the sun. It’s beautiful. Such a nice day out. Perfect for ice cream.”
You press your fingers against your lips, suppressing a giggle that Jungkook wishes you’d let him hear. “Shall we?” Those same fingers flick in the direction of the ice cream shop.
Jungkook leads the way to the window. “Mint chocolate chip? Cookies and cream?” he asks, trying to think of the different ice cream flavors he’s seen in your freezer.
“Mmm,” you hum, your hand resting over your belly in an absentminded fashion. “I actually think I want a strawberry bungeoppang ice cream.
Chuckling, Jungkook nods. “You read my mind.” He orders two of the fish-shaped ice creams and opens one of the packages before handing it to you.
“I haven’t had one of these in forever,” you say, taking a bite and making a sound of delight.
“Really? That’s sad,” Jungkook teases. “Next time I’m at the grocery store, I’ll grab you a box.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” There is a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as you glance sideways at Jungkook and he wants to capture this moment and never let it go.
So, he does just that, slipping his phone from his pocket and snapping a picture.
The smile slowly disappears from your face. “What?” he asks, looking at you over the top edge of his screen.
“Why are you doing that?”
Jungkook takes another photo, this one with your face more stoic but your eyes no less full of emotion. You don’t exactly look sad, but there is a hint of sadness there, drifting along with the uncertainty in your eyes.
Jungkook looks down at his phone, ice cream forgotten in his other hand. “Because these are important moments that I want to share with my son one day.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Jungkook nods to a park bench. “Of course. Want to sit?”
It feels like forever passes in silence. You sit there and nibble at your ice cream, and Jungkook finally opens his and finishes it in three bites, not wanting to have any sort of distraction. This is supposed to be his time to talk to you, to see what’s going on and figure out why you’ve been acting so weird toward him. He hopes that’s what you want to ask him about.
“What’s going to happen after?”
“After?”
“Once the baby is born. Then what? When I first agreed to do this, the only thing I thought about was the happiness it would bring to you and Jiyoon. But—but the further along this goes, the more shit that happens…the more I can’t stop thinking about how hard it’s going to be to give him up. And I know that’s probably the last thing you want to hear, and please, I swear I’m not going to change my mind about giving you the baby. But, I don’t know that I really thought about the fact that I’m going to be growing a life, spending almost ten months loving this life, to then give them away and pretend like nothing happened.”
“Is that what you think? That as soon as we have the baby, we’re just going to pretend like nothing happened? Is that why you’ve been so withdrawn lately?” Jungkook turns on the bench, drawing one of his knees up so he can look at you fully. “That is not going to happen. This baby, my son, is going to know who you are and what you did for him.”
He can tell you don’t really believe that. “No offense, Jungkook, but I don’t exactly see Jiyoon being okay with that. There’s something going on with her lately, and I don’t even know if our friendship is going to survive this.”
Jungkook takes a deep breath. “We’ll make it all work out. I know we can. You guys have been friends for practically your entire lives. This is just a bump in the road, right? We’ll figure it out, together…all three of us. And, um, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about, too. Now that we’re on the subject of the babies and what comes after.”
“What is it?” You put the last bite of your bungeoppang in your mouth and chew it slowly as you wait for him to continue.
Maybe he’s jumping the gun in this, but he thinks it might help you with what you’re feeling right now. And besides, he has talked to Jiyoon about it, and even if she was adamantly against it, he’s certain she’ll come around eventually.
“How would you feel about being the babies’ guardian? Like if something were to ever happen to me or Jiyoon, they would both come to you. If you’d want that, that is. I know two kids would be a lot for someone to take on, but I think if I could choose anyone to raise my kids if I couldn’t, it would be you. You’re already doing such a good job with my son,” Jungkook says with a loving inflection in his tone.
“You mean that?”
“Of course I do.”
And no matter what, he’ll make that happen because the smile that’s now gracing your face is worth any amount of arguing with Jiyoon over it. You deserve so much more from this whole fucked up situation.
💔💔💔
“You look like you could use a hug.” Taehyung startles you with an arm across your shoulders, giving you half of said hug. “What’s got you looking so blue, boss?”
You hurried from your impromptu ice cream meetup with Jungkook and went straight to the spread shoot for Taehyung, meaning you haven’t had much time to process everything Jungkook said.
“There aren’t enough minutes left in the day to even begin,” you mutter, vigorously clicking through files on your tablet. “This agreement is a fucking mile long. How do they expect me to read it all and get it back to them in a timely manner?”
“‘Fucking’?” Taehyung says, amused. “Something must be up if you’re dropping words like that. Come on, we have a few minutes, you can at least give me the footnotes. My agreement with that cologne brand can wait.” His long fingers pinch the tablet from your hands and bring it to rest against his chest. “Out with it.”
You twist your fingers in the skirt of your dress as you try to decide where to begin. Taehyung isn’t just your client. You consider him a friend as well. And maybe getting an outside perspective is exactly what you need right now.
“Do you think I’m crazy for doing this?” you ask, moving one of your hands to rest over your belly. “You’re the one that brought it up, to begin with, after all.” You add on that last part, recalling the night of your birthday when Taehyung instigated the entire surrogacy conversation.
Taehyung winces. “I did do that, didn’t I? As far as you being crazy? No, I wouldn’t say crazy. Maybe just far too kind for your own good. If I had known you’d actually go along with it, I might not have brought it up that night.”
“Really?”
“Mmhm,” he makes an agreeable sound. “Do you feel crazy?”
You let out a nervous laugh. “Understatement of the year. I feel like I’m losing it, I have no idea what I’m doing…how I ended up six months pregnant with not a clue what the future holds and feelings I can’t—” You cut yourself off before you say something you’re going to regret.
“Feelings?” Taehyung prods, not letting you get away with that near slip-up.
“It doesn’t matter. Just drop it.”
Taehyung raises a hand. “No, no. You can’t say that and then not explain. I promise you’ll feel better once it’s out in the open.”
“I don’t know about that. Feelings are messy and have never done me any good anyway.” You take your tablet back from Taehyung. “I need to get this offer submitted and you’ll be needed back on set soon.”
“Feelings may be messy, but they are valid. Don’t keep them hidden away in that pretty head of yours. That’ll do nobody any good.”
You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth before forcing yourself to let it go, along with the hold on your emotions. “These feelings won’t do anyone any good, Taehyung. Because they’re feelings that can’t mean anything. Not without completely destroying everything.”
There is a moment where Taehyung considers you, his eyes flicking over your figure before landing back on your eyes. All you see there is empathy and understanding.
“This is about Jungkook, isn’t it?”
It’s not worth the effort to argue with Taehyung or convince him otherwise. So, you shrug. “Is it that obvious?”
“As obvious as it is that he shares the same sentiment.”
“Don’t be crazy,” you laugh. “That’s not—”
“That’s not as crazy as you think it is. You’ve both always danced around one another, even back before Jiyoon came into the picture.”
“But, she did, and that’s what matters, Taehyung. Now, forget about this nonsense and keep your mouth shut, okay? Get back to makeup, you smudged your eyeliner.”
As Taehyung walks away, you can’t shake what he said. Jungkook is feeling as conflicted as you are? That’s not possible. He moved back home so he and Jiyoon could work things out. There is no room for you and what’s going on in your head in that equation. You might be on the outs with Jiyoon, but that doesn’t give you the right to let your ‘feelings’ get in the way of Jungkook’s happiness.
Right?
You puff out your cheeks, trying not to voice another complaint as you follow along the dirt path behind Jungkook. He wouldn’t tell you more than to meet him at the park and wear something cute. So, here you are, another day and in another sundress, this one a solid turquoise color with a scalloped neckline.
“How much farther are we going? I’m six months pregnant, and if I walk much farther, you’re going to owe me a foot massage.”
Jungkook laughs, tossing a look of pure carefree delight over his shoulder at you. “I promise it’s not much farther, just over this rise. And if you want a foot massage, all you have to do is ask.”
“You’ll owe me two, then,” you grumble to yourself.
All your complaints dry to dust on your tongue as you finally crest the top of the rise in the path, coming to stand beside Jungkook. Spread out before you is an entire field of wildflowers. All of varying colors, their stalks long and willowy in the light breeze blowing off the ocean beyond.
The deep blue water laps and kisses at the distant shoreline, the roar of the surf soft from this distance. It’s a breathtaking sight, the sun bright and warm overhead, glittering along the glassy surface before scattering into a dance as the waves break on the golden sand. The wildflowers wave in the wind as if to cheer on the waves’ dance of the tides.
“Do you want that foot massage now or later? Jungkook asks, his voice soft with his own awe.
You turn to him, forcing your eyes away from one dazzling sight to focus on another. His hair feathers across his forehead, tossed about by the intermittent ocean breeze. A hint of salt licks along your senses, carrying with it the soft, fragrant notes of the wildflowers.
“What are we doing here?”
His eyes meet yours, and his mouth tilts in a smile. “I thought it might be nice to take some pictures. If you’re okay with that, that is. Dani is planning some elaborate maternity shoot for Jiyoon this weekend, and it’s apparently girls only. She wants to do a second one with me when she’s further along. But, that doesn’t matter right now, I just thought…well, we could do a maternity shoot for you. If you want. No pressure, we can just enjoy the view if you’d rather not.”
That conversation you had with Taehyung a week ago threatens to spill out. Is Jungkook feeling as conflicted as you are right now? If you say yes to the maternity shoot, does that mean you’d rather not just spend the time with him? If you say no to the maternity shoot, does that mean you only want to spend the time with him and, therefore, might be crossing some sort of invisible line in the sand?
Is it possible to do both? You wait for the wave of guilt to hit at having such a thought about Jiyoon’s husband. But, it doesn’t come. If anything, you feel a light giddiness at the fact Jungkook thought of all of this for you.
“We can always take some photos and then enjoy the view?” you offer, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.
Jungkook swings the bag he was carrying off his shoulder. “I think my view will be good either way,” he counters with a pleasant, teasing tone.
Did he just call you a good view? You try to not let that go to your head. Clearly, he’s just being polite to the woman carrying one of his babies.
“Sure,” you laugh, playing it off. “What do you want me to do?”
He pulls out a large DSLR camera and a tripod which he sets on the ground beside his bag. “Just act natural. Pretend the camera isn’t here.” You catch his smirk behind the camera before you roll your eyes, trying to suppress your own smile. The sound of the shutter clicks, and you try to push everything else out of your mind.
Jungkook moves like a natural with the camera, crouching and turning this way and that in order to capture the best angles as he follows you through the meadow of wildflowers, the ocean at your side in the distance.
“The golden hour is coming.” You glance back at him over your shoulder and see the absolute adoration in his eyes as you know the sun is silhouetting your body, accentuating your bump. The shutter clicks in quick succession.
Jungkook lowers the camera, and the adoration that was there moments ago turns into what you can only describe as uncertainty. “Would you be okay taking some with me?”
“Like, with you in them?”
“Yeah, but only if you’re comfortable with that.”
His consideration really knows no bounds. “Of course, I’m okay with that. He’s your baby, after all.”
“But it’s your body,” he says pointedly. All you can do is nod, watching as he returns to his bag and retrieves the tripod.
Jungkook sets up the stand, screwing the base holder into his camera before snapping it in place atop the tripod. He plays with the angles and height before nodding to himself, satisfied.
“I didn’t realize you knew so much about photography.” It shouldn’t surprise you, but Jungkook spends most of his time in front of a camera and not behind one, so it never clicked before.
He approaches you. The casual white button-down he is wearing open over a light blue tank top is a nice coincidence—a perfect match to your dress. At least, you think it’s a coincidence. It’s not like Jungkook knew you were going to wear this dress today. He plucks one of the wildflowers before tucking it in behind your ear, the feather-soft petals tickling your temple.
“I guess you can add it to my list of secret talents.”
“Just how many hidden talents do you have?” One of your brows rises, and a cheeky smile slants your lips.
His eyes hold yours as he sinks down to his knees in front of you, causing your smile to slip and your teasing cheek to be replaced with mild alarm.
“They wouldn’t be secret if I shared them all with you just yet.” One of his hands comes up to cup the side of your belly. “Is this okay?” he asks, completely throwing you off with the sudden change in subject.
You have to work your tongue inside your mouth to gather enough moisture so you can swallow before answering. “That’s fine.”
“Relax. Act natural, remember?”
Sure. Only there’s nothing natural about what’s happening. No matter where you stand with Jiyoon right now, you know for a guaranteed fact that she would have a problem with this. The way Jungkook looks like he’s worshipping at your feet, the fervent love shining in his eyes as they trace the contours of your belly.
You clear your throat. “Do you have the camera on a timer?”
“It’s set to take a photo every few seconds for the next ten minutes. Tell me if any of this makes you uncomfortable.”
His other hand presses to the other side of your belly, and his forehead comes to rest right below your navel. “It’s not uncom—oh,” you laugh, the action shaking your body slightly.
Jungkook peers up at you with eyes wider than you’ve ever seen before. “Was that…what I think it was?” The bump comes again, and he snaps his eyes to your belly, his mouth forming a giant smile. “It was, wasn’t it?”
“He’s saying hi to his father,” you murmur softly, heart melting at the pure elation on Jungkook’s face.
“Hi, baby,” Jungkook coos, and the little one moves again, making you mirror Jungkook’s smile. Your heart jerks in your chest when Jungkook presses his lips to your belly, planting a kiss where his forehead once rested.
You know it’s probably wrong, and you should ask him to stop, but you can’t bring yourself to break this spell—not yet, at least. If this is something you can give Jungkook, then you’ll let him have it. It’s not like anyone else is going to see these photos, anyway. This pregnancy isn’t really yours to celebrate, not like this.
But you decide to enjoy it for as long as you can—your own private celebration. Jungkook might not belong to you, and that’s something you accepted a long time ago, but these moments will be yours to hold forever—even if the baby won’t be.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
The weeks following moving back in have Jungkook questioning so much about his life. Maybe it’s just the raw vulnerability of what happened between him and Jiyoon, but Jungkook feels like he’s been living on the edge of sanity. Even if it was a lie, it still planted a small seed of doubt in his mind. One that he whole-heartedly feels guilty for and wishes would go the fuck away.
He blames it for the way he eyes Jiyoon’s phone any time it chimes or the way he’s tempted to pick it up when she’s in the shower. It’s not that he wants to go through it, not really…only, actually, he does. He wants to give himself assurances, confirm that there is nothing on there that she’s hiding.
Jungkook knows Jiyoon has many clients who constantly need her attention. It’s no different than you; he knows that. You seem to always be getting a stream of messages, emails, or phone calls whenever he’s around you. That’s just part of the job. Yet…yet, Jungkook can’t seem to shake the desire to just check, to be certain.
It doesn’t help that he’s caught Jiyoon on the phone in the middle of the night. He never let her know he saw her or heard her girlish giggles. But each instance has only added to his mounting paranoia, to the point that he does what he’s promised himself he’d never do.
He looks through her phone.
And the guilt that consumes him tenfold when he finds nothing incriminating at all has him knocking on the door across the hall in an effort not to lose his mind completely.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” Jimin answers the door in a pair of low-slung silk pants and no shirt. His hair is mussed, but if the equally shirtless man standing behind him is any indicator, it’s not from sleep.
“Is Taehyung here?”
Jimin gestures for Jungkook to come in. “Yeah, he’s in his studio. This is my friend, Hoseok. Hoseok, this is Jungkook. He’s one of the OG models from Kim Exclusives.”
“How’s it going?” Hoseok says, a smirk tugging at his lips as Jimin palms his hip.
Jungkook just nods, skirting around them and heading down the hall to Taehyung's studio. It’s one of the spare rooms turned into an art space where Taehyung likes to lose himself in his spare time.
After a few moments, his knock on the door is answered. Taehyung is wearing a linen smock, the front of which is splattered with paint of varying degrees of drying.
“Jungkook.” Taehyung’s brow pinches. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m about to go fucking crazy is what I’m doing here.”
Giving him a once over, Taehyung lets Jungkook into the room and flicks his hand at an empty stool. “I should start charging you by the hour. What’s the going rate of therapists these days?”
“I’ll buy you one of those fancy bottles of soju that you like so much,” Jungkook sighs, dropping onto the hard surface of the stool.
“Deal. Now, out with it, before you ruin my groove here.”
Taehyung sprawls out on a worn-out leather chaise, the edges cracked and dappled in paint. His eyes remain on Jungkook. Despite looking like he could care less, Jungkook knows Taehyung is being attentive, and a better friend than he probably deserves.
“I think something is going on with Jiyoon.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure if it’s just my paranoia because of what she said all those weeks ago, or if I’m just seeing things where I want to see them and turning innocent shit into malicious things…I feel like I’m going insane.”
“Continue,” Taehyung encourages, making a ‘come on’ motion with his hand.
Jungkook takes a slow breath, using the moment to collect his thoughts. “I’ve found Jiyoon on the phone at weird hours, in the middle of the night. I would think she’s just talking to a client, and maybe she is, but the way she giggles and talks…it just sounds like, fuck, like the way she used to talk to me. And I know that sounds insane, and I’m probably making something out of nothing, but it’s just so weird. Maybe I never noticed it before, but it’s happening all the time.”
“Hmm.” Taehyung makes a thoughtful sound before gesturing for Jungkook to keep going.
“Her phone is constantly going off, and I keep seeing the same name pop up: Dohyun Kim. I know he’s an actor, and he’s contracted under Kim Exclusives, but I don’t know much else. I’m not really part of the actor's circle. And he could be her client. In fact, I’m pretty sure he is. I just…why is she on the phone with him at 2 AM giggling like she has a crush?”
“Is that all that’s bothering you?” Taehyung asks in a way that tells Jungkook he wants to hear everything before giving his opinion or any advice.
Jungkook rubs the heels of his palms over his eyes before giving Taehyung a tired look. “No,” he says so softly that Taehyung has to lean forward to hear him. “I’ve been experiencing these feelings…and it makes me feel like such a hypocrite. I’m such a fucking asshole, worried that Jiyoon is lying to me when I might as well be lying to her.”
“About?” Taehyung prompts.
“I can’t stop thinking about her,” Jungkook confesses, his voice even softer than before.
“A certain manager who is carrying your baby?”
“Yeah. Dammit, Taehyung. What am I doing? I’m married, for fucks sake!”
Taehyung leans back and crosses an ankle over his knee. “You realize you’re just human, right? You just spent several days thinking the woman you’ve been in love with and shared a life with for over six years had betrayed you. Even if it was a lie, that shit still hurts and is going to leave a lasting mark, man. You can’t be expected to simply shrug it off and continue like life is normal. Your life is anything but normal. For one, your wife, who supposedly has been unable to have kids for years, suddenly pops up pregnant just weeks after you impregnate her best friend. I don’t know about you, Jungkook, and I’m no genius with numbers, but the math isn’t mathing. And for two, it doesn’t surprise me if you’re feeling a bit more connected to the one woman who hasn’t lied to you about a baby.”
“Jiyoon didn’t lie, though—”
Taehyung cuts off Jungkook’s rebuttal. “She did lie. At least, if the baby is yours, then what she said about it not being was a lie, right?”
Jungkook presses his lips into a thin line because he can’t argue with that. Technically it was a lie, if…
“What do you mean ‘if the baby is mine’?”
Leaning forward, Taehyung drops his foot back to the floor and rests his elbows on his knees. “I’m going to say this in the nicest way I possibly can. Married women don’t giggle on the phone with a client at 2 AM. If she’s on the phone with her mom, sure. Her sister? Absolutely. Dani? I’d believe it. But, if you’re telling me she’s on the phone giggling with Dohyun Kim, a client, at 2 AM…I’d say it sounds like you have a problem.”
Cold chills pop up along Jungkook’s arms and down the back of his neck. “Okay,” he says slowly, trying to let his brain process everything Taehyung just said.
“And then there is the issue with your boss,” Taehyung continues as if he didn’t just drop a bomb of realization on Jungkook. “You’re clearly into her, and don’t give me that look. You’re acting the same way you did when you first got signed on with Kim Exclusives. In case you’ve forgotten, you were so smitten with your new manager that you made the rookie mistake of talking to her boss about your crush and nearly got released from your contract. It was only because Namjoon added Jiyoon to your management profile that you were allowed to stay on with them. Jiyoon knew you had a thing for her friend, so she did her best to weasel her way into your heart. Perhaps she wasn’t as successful as she might have thought, it seems.” Taehyung’s eyes flick over Jungkook in silent appraisal. “Yeah, not all that successful at all. Looks like you got a lot to think about, my friend.”
Sighing, Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “You know, I came over here to get your help, not have you complicate it even more.”
“It doesn’t seem all that complicated if you ask me. In fact, it all seems pretty clear to me…you just have to want to see it.”
That’s it, though, isn’t it? Jungkook is afraid he already can see it…the light you provide reveals a lot about the darkness he’s been blinded by. He can’t help but think back to the night he held your hand as you lay there on your bathroom floor, having just done one of the most selfless things any one person could do for another.
Some might say that’s a different kind of love, a different kind of affection…but what if it isn’t? What if it was just pulling back the curtain on something that was always meant to be?
💔💔💔
A shadow falls across your desk, causing you to pause in responding to the text message you just received from Jungkook confirming that he’ll be able to attend your thirty-week appointment that’s coming up.
You look up, meeting the cold gaze of your once best friend. Things have been cordial between you and Jiyoon, but neither of you has exactly made much of an effort to actually patch things up. If it wasn’t for Jungkook—if it wasn’t for the baby in your belly that’s growing for her—you’d probably have washed yourself of her friendship completely.
The conversation you had with Jungkook last night still hangs over you like a raincloud. You talked about the legal papers that you’ve yet to sign. The ones that would give all legal rights over to Jungkook and Jiyoon. He wants you to wait to sign them only after the baby is born, just in case. Just in case of what, he didn’t elaborate on. But, it’s becoming clearer to you that despite Jungkook attempting to mend their relationship, not everything is as pretty as it may seem on the outside when it comes to them.
“Is there something I can do for you?” you ask, setting your phone down on your desk. Jiyoon’s eyes follow the device, narrowing slightly before you click the power button to turn off the display. Maybe it was a mistake to make your phone background one of the few maternity photos Jungkook sent you as a taste of what was to come, the rest waiting for him to finish editing them.
You expect her to comment on the photo, but instead, she asks, “Are you really having a baby shower?”
“What are you talking about?”
“What’s this?” she asks, handing you a small folded card.
You take it. It’s white on the back and blue on the front with a small carriage with a bear inside of it. At the top, in silver lettering, it says ‘Join Us’. The inside boasts a small message with a time and date.
While you don’t want to throw Jungkook under the bus on this one, it was technically his idea. You tell Jiyoon as much. “Jungkook thought it would be a good idea. Just some clients and close friends—”
“But, what do you need a baby shower for? It’s not even your baby.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “You act like I’m not aware of that. You realize that anything I get is going to be for the baby, regardless of where he ends up living. But, this isn’t even really a baby shower—” you shake the folded invitation “—it’s just a pregnancy shower. As in, an opportunity for people to maybe gift me the things I’m going to need during recovery after I have him.”
Anger twists her lips, and her nostrils flare as she stares down at you. “You didn’t think to maybe include me in this?”
Shoving the invitation back at her, you throw your hands up. “I’m not the one who planned it. Take that up with your husband, Jiyoon. This was all his idea. So, if you want to squawk and fume at someone, it’s not me. Now, if you please, I have some work to do.”
“Sure, okay. Blame Jungkook for this. That’s so like you, putting the blame off on someone else.”
Jiyoon takes a startled step backward as you shoot up from your seat. “You need to back off and leave me alone.”
Not wanting to face this any longer, for the good of your own mental health, you skirt around her and head to the breakroom. You occupy your hands by mixing a flavor packet into a bottle of water you grab from the fridge.
You should have known better, though, that you could escape this without actually leaving the entire building because you feel her presence behind you before her words slice right into your soul.
“I’ll back off when you stop trying to make everything about you! You don’t need a party for people to bring you things. You’re just using my baby to fill the void in your life. I knew it from the day you agreed to this nonsense with Jungkook. You’re so desperate for something that you were willing to get fucking pregnant, by my husband…do you realize how stupid that is? You’re a fucking joke, and I can’t wait for you to have that baby so I can make sure he’s not raised by some pathetic little girl.”
The ringing in your ears intensifies as seconds pass, stretching the silence in the breakroom. Dani’s tittering laugh breaks the dam holding back your tears as she saunters into the room.
“Aw, Jiyoon, you made her cry.” Dani’s words follow you out the door and to the elevator.
You barely register passing by Taehyung as you enter the elevator. His eyes meet yours, and you see his lips moving, but the door closes before your brain can comprehend what he may have said.
This is it, the moment you’ve been trying to avoid for so long—the moment you shatter into oblivion.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
Taehyung said it was an emergency, and that Jungkook needed to meet with him immediately when he called a few minutes ago. Jimin let Jungkook into their condo, and now he’s waiting for Taehyung in his studio. There wasn’t much Taehyung would say over the phone, but by the tone of his voice, Jungkook knows it’s bad.
Jungkook is tempted to text you again, just to check in to see how you’re doing and if you’re free after work, even though he texted you only an hour or so ago. He finished editing the maternity photos this morning, and he’s excited to show them to you. But he’s waiting for the right time to do that. Jiyoon texted him not long ago to let him know that she’ll be home for dinner, but maybe if he plays his cards right, he can meet with you before that.
Just as he pulls out his phone to send you the text, the studio door swings open, and a wild-eyed Taehyung storms in, chest huffing.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Jungkook asks, standing up from the stool he was sitting on.
“Nope, sit back down. You need to be seated for this. Fucking hell, this is a mess.” Taehyung paces in front of Jungkook, periodically gripping fistfuls of his hair, making the thick chestnut waves go wild. “I need a drink,” Taehyung mutters under his breath before making a beeline for the small bottle of bourbon he keeps tucked behind some of his paint supplies in a cabinet.
“Tae, you’re starting to scare me. What’s wrong?”
Taehyung takes a deep swill straight from the bottle before shoving it at Jungkook. “You’ll want some, too.”
Jungkook slowly takes the bottle, but instead of drinking, he sets it off to the side. “Seriously, Taehyung. What’s going on?”
Throwing his hands up, Taehyung rounds on Jungkook. “It’s your goddamn wife, JK.”
“My wife? What are you talking about?”
“Jungkook. Okay—” Taehyung rubs a hand over his mouth and drops onto the stool beside the one Jungkook is sitting on. “Look. I’m going to tell you something—I seem to be doing that a lot lately—and your first instinct is going to be to not believe me—I know that. But I really need you to listen and know that I wouldn’t be telling you this if I hadn’t heard it directly from her mouth.”
“Umm…okay.”
“Promise me that you’ll listen.”
The look of pure devastation on Taehyung’s face has Jungkook nodding. “Okay, I promise to listen.”
In a whisper so soft Jungkook isn’t sure he hears him correctly, Taehyung says, “The baby…it isn’t yours. She wasn’t lying about that, apparently.”
“You can’t be serious,” Jungkook balks, feeling instantly incensed. Though, whether his anger is at Taehyung or not, he’s not sure.
“You promised you would listen. Now, listen to me. I went by the office today after lunch, and as I was leaving, I could tell something had happened.” He sighs your name, “I passed her as I was getting off the elevator and it was clear she was upset over something. I overheard that bitch Dani laughing in the breakroom, so I went in that direction, knowing she probably had something to do with it. But…I didn’t expect—what I didn’t expect was that I’d catch the tail end of a whispered conversation between Dani and Jiyoon. Their heads were pressed together, but Dani’s big mouth is loud even when she’s whispering. She was asking Jiyoon if she had told that fucker Dohyun that the baby was his or not. From what I could piece together from the rest of what I heard, Jiyoon’s baby is his, but he doesn’t want anything to do with it because he’s married with two kids of his own already! I knew you were on to something with your suspicions, but fuck.”
Jungkook knows he should react a certain way right now. Yet, he can’t seem to muster up the anger and indignation that should be swallowing him whole. If anything…if anything, what he feels is something akin to relief. He can’t help but wonder if that makes him a bad person.
If Taehyung had told him this months ago, Jungkook would have probably punched his best friend in the face and called him every name in the book. But now—he almost feels numb when he considers the fact that Jiyoon was telling the truth a few weeks ago. Maybe it’s because he used up all of his anger and resentment then that there is none left now, when it seems to matter the most.
It doesn’t help that Jungkook’s felt like he was on the outside looking in ever since he moved back home. Jiyoon might have been overly enthusiastic, but she was still firmly on the other side of the invisible line that Jungkook only realizes now that he drew for himself.
“I need to go,” Jungkook says quietly.
“Hey.” Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s arm as he slips off his stool. “You call me if you need me, okay?”
“Thanks.”
Jungkook moves swiftly, almost blindly. He goes across the hall, throws some clothes in a bag, and collects his toothbrush from the bathroom before he’s on the move again.
“Hello?” At the first sound of your scratchy voice, Jungkook’s mind instantly switches gears. His problems are immediately inconsequential to whatever is ailing you.
“Where are you right now?”
You sniffle and clear your throat before answering. “I went home early. Why? Is everything okay?” You’ve been crying. Clearly, things are not okay, and Jungkook won’t be able to deal with his issues until he takes care of you first.
“No, everything is not okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Jungkook is out of breath by the time he’s knocking on your door, having sprinted from his car straight up the stairs of your building because the elevator was taking too long.
The door swings open before Jungkook can bring his knuckles forward to knock a second time. You don’t protest when he wraps his arms around you and ushers you back so he can close the door.
“You said everything wasn’t okay.” Your voice is muffled by your face pressed against his chest. “What’s going on?”
“That’s not important right now. Tell me what’s got you so upset,” Jungkook urges, releasing you just enough that you can look up and meet his worried gaze.
You shake your head, more tears finding their way onto your cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jungkook moves you over to the couch and helps you sit down, kneeling at your feet with your hands clasped in his. “Please, tell me.”
He hates the way your shoulders tremble, and every tear that tracks down your cheeks is another blow to his chest. He’s never seen you this upset before, so he knows it’s something bad…something that Jiyoon caused if what Taehyung said was any indicator. But he needs you to tell him; needs you to open up and say it.
“I don’t want to upset you,” you whisper, the words breaking Jungkook’s heart because, of course, you would try to put his feelings before your own wellbeing. You’re far too good for him, for any of them, really.
He squeezes your hands. “I promise, you can say whatever it is you need to say, and it’ll be okay.”
Jungkook listens to you, his anger and horror at such vile things growing with every confession you release. Once you finish explaining what happened at the office today, you surprise him by including other incidents that he wasn’t aware of, like that one lunch you’ve tried so hard to forget.
“I don’t know why I didn’t reach out to you then, see if you were actually going along with the whole ‘there are options’ thing. I mean, an abortion? Why the fuck would I abort this baby just because Jiyoon so happened to get pregnant. It was something I had completely forgotten about, or maybe just intentionally blocked out, until today. Fucking hell, Jungkook, she practically told me to get rid of it because it wasn’t needed since she’s pregnant…who does that? I’m sorry. I know she’s your wife, and you love her…but I can’t do this. I can’t, in good faith, have this baby and let her take him.” You begin to sob in earnest, your words turning into barely coherent pleas and apologies.
If his heart wasn’t broken before, it’s completely fissured through now. “Hey, it’s okay, “ he tries to soothe you, sliding onto the couch beside you and gathering you into his arms.
Jungkook wants to scream, rant, and rave at the world for how cruel and unfair life can be sometimes. But, mostly, he feels a deep sense of guilt in having been the one to start this whole thing. If it wasn’t for him, you’d not be pregnant right now. If it wasn’t for him, Jiyoon might not be the raging bitch she has seemingly become. Maybe…just maybe—
“Stop,” you whisper. “Stop blaming yourself, I can hear the guilt in your head. None of this is your fault, Jungkook.”
He knows that’s not true, but also that there is no sense in trying to explain how much it is his fault. The best he can do right now is try to make it hurt less. “I’ll be right back,” he tells you, soothing a hand over your hair and down your back. “Your hands are freezing, I’m going to grab a blanket.”
You nod against his shoulder and relax your arms as he pulls away. The sobs have mostly subsided, but Jungkook can tell you’re far from being okay. Not wanting to waste another moment, he disappears down the hall and into your room to retrieve some comfort items and the fuzzy blanket you keep folded over the end of your bed.
When he turns, items in hand, to go back to you, he stops just short of the doorway. The sound of a familiar voice drifts to him from down the hall. Dread pours down his spine and prickles over his skin in a thin sheen of sweat.
Jiyoon is here.
💔💔💔
“Where is he? I know he’s here!”
It’s like watching a sitcom. The timing’s far too impeccable, and all that’s missing is the background laugh track. As soon as Jungkook disappears into your room, there’s a knock on the front door. Jiyoon’s the last person you expect to be standing there. Yet, here she is, her hands firmly planted on her hips and her enraged eyes slicing you from head to toe.
“It might help if you explained who you are looking for.” You know who she means, but you can’t help being purposely obtuse out of sheer spite.
She raises her hand and jabs her forefinger in your face. “Don’t play stupid with me. You know who! Jungkook. My husband.”
You take a slow breath, your eyes barely cutting to the side and beyond Jiyoon. Jungkook is peeking through your doorway, and you know he’s about to make himself known to her. His eyes meet yours, and you shake your head subtly, hoping he understands.
“If he is your husband, then why would he be here at my home?”
Jiyoon sneers. “You think you’re so goddamn cute, don’t you? I know what the two of you have been up to. I found the proof of your little love affair on his laptop, so don’t even try me. Tell me where he is, and I won’t have to make you cry again.”
You have absolutely no idea what kind of proof Jiyoon thinks she has found, but seemingly, there is something lost in translation somewhere. “Proof? What the hell are you talking about? I’ve done nothing with your husband that you, yourself, didn’t approve of.”
“That’s hilarious,” Jiyoon laughs mockingly. “Because I never wanted any of this to happen! I never wanted fucking kids to begin with! I only went along with it because it was what Jungkook wanted, and I knew he’d leave me if I told him the truth!” Her voice comes out loud and shrill, the words taking you by surprise. “But, obviously, he’s not the one I have to worry about, is he? I should have known from the moment you agreed to this nonsense that you were trying to worm your way into his life. How dare you try to ruin my marriage!”
“You…what? You never wanted kids? Jungkook wouldn’t leave you over that! He loves you, even when you’re being a complete and utter crazy person! You think I’m trying to break up your marriage? What the hell?”
She throws her hands up. “And you call yourself my best friend! What a fucking joke. No, I never wanted kids! Why would I want to give up my perfect body and my perfect life to raise some snot-nosed, grubby-handed, little brats?! I only ever went along with it because that’s what Jungkook wanted, what he begged for like a sad little puppy! Though I guess he didn’t have to beg you much, did he? You willingly went to him like a bitch in heat.”
“Jiyoon, what the hell are you even talking about?!”
She continues on as if you haven’t spoken, “I bet you feel so high and mighty, having given him exactly what he wants. That was the start of your whole plan, right? How you’ve plotted to get him to leave me? I should have just saved you the trouble and told him myself. Though, maybe he’s just too dense to realize it, because, I mean, come on. Years of supposed infertility?” she laughs again, completely humorless. “Am I just surrounded by idiots?”
There isn’t enough moisture in your mouth to speak comfortably, but you force the words out anyway, “But, you’re pregnant now. How can you say that—”
“Accidents happen! If I had known I’d get so shit-faced the weekend I found out that you were pregnant that I’d forget to take my pills on time, I’d not have let Dohyun touch me!”
You rock back on your heels, completely thrown off by her blatant admission. “Dohyun? What the hell did you do, Jiyoon? What the hell are you talking about?”
The person you once considered your closest friend throws her head back and laughs, the sound echoing from the ceiling. It’s not a humorless laugh like before, it’s full of incredulity and surprise.
“I did what any miserable woman does when their husband spends more time dreaming about babies than he does about his own wife. I found my own happiness!”
“I—I don’t understand…you love Jungkook!”
Jiyoon titters, clicking her tongue at you. “You’re so naive. Love is not real. Whatever fucked up little fantasy you have in your head about Jungkook, it’s not real. He doesn’t love you, just the same as he doesn’t love me. How I ever was friends with you, I’ll never understand. You’re so pathetic. Your delusions about Jungkook come from the fact he put a baby in you on the goddamn floor of your bathroom! I mean, come on, where is your self-respect?! If you think just because you’re birthing a child for him that it means something more, then you’re far dumber than I’ve ever given you credit for. Look at you, just look at you! Never in a million years would someone like Jungkook want someone like you if there wasn’t some sort of transaction involved! He’s mine and he’s so far gone for this baby—” she gestures to her stomach “—that he’ll never leave me no matter what. And if you think to keep that baby from him—” her hand flicks to your stomach “—you and I both know he’ll hate you forever.”
“You’re wrong, Jiyoon.” Whether Jungkook has feelings for you or not, you know nothing has happened between the two of you. And you sure as hell know that Jungkook doesn’t just care about the baby…at least, you don’t think it’s just that. “You’re not going to get away with this. Jungkook will see through your lies!”
You have to take several steps back as Jiyoon crowds into your space. “If you even think to say anything to him or to anyone else, for that matter, I will ruin you. You know I have friends in high places, far more than you do. I will make you regret every decision you’ve ever made. Now, I’m going to leave here, and if you see my husband, be a good girl and tell him to come home. Got it?”
“Why don’t you tell me yourself?”
Jungkook’s voice startles both of you, and you watch as the color drains from Jiyoon’s face. Her pouty lips open in horror. She turns slowly away from you to face Jungkook, who is now standing on the other side of the living room, his arms crossed and his eyes laser-focused on her.
“W-what are you doing here?” she asks, her body language morphing from surprise to defensive right before your eyes. “I knew he was here! You lying bitch, how dare you?!”
Before she can round on you and change the narrative once more, Jungkook quickly moves into the room and steps in front of you. “I think you need to leave,” he tells her. “Now, before you say anything else to dig your hole even deeper.”
“I don’t know what you think you heard—”
“I heard enough, Jiyoon. We both did. Leave while you have some dignity still intact, lest you forget those friends that you have in high places are really mine.”
Jiyoon at least has the grace to allow her tears to fall, showing the first sign of a genuine emotion other than rage since she stepped foot into your apartment.
“If you’d just let me expla—”
“Jiyoon,” you cut her off this time. “Leave before I call the police. Please.”
Her eyes flick between you and Jungkook. Without another word, she turns and leaves. Jiyoon might have hurt you, but you still feel the sting of your friendship crumbling. She wasn’t always good to you, may have even been downright terrible, but she was still someone you cared about for a very long time.
And you know if you’re feeling like this, Jungkook must be having it even worse. All those things she said, the lies…the deceit…dear god, everything.
“Jungkook,” you hesitate. “Are you okay?”
He blinks a few times and turns back to look at you. There are unshed tears in his eyes that give you a glimpse into what he might be feeling, but other than that, his face is completely unreadable.
“I’m not the one I’m worried about,” he tells you. “I need to know if you’re okay. Everything she said about you…about me, you have to know that none of it is true.”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t somewhat believe her. Ever since she said what she did at the office, about you being so desperate to fill the void in your life that you agreed to carry a baby—your first and maybe only baby—for someone else. Someone that you care about, sure, but not for yourself…you had absolutely no thought or concern for yourself. It was all about making Jiyoon and Jungkook happy. And in that moment, you realized she was right about at least one thing; you were desperate enough to give away something so sacred for…the chance at feeling something? Pathetic.
“I…I don’t know.”
Jungkook’s arms catch you around the waist, and you realize your knees have given out. “Whoa, let’s get you on the couch.” He takes up the same position he had earlier, kneeling at your feet after you’ve sat. The touch of his skin against yours is soothing, and comforting, as he cups your face and lets his eyes roam over your features. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
The last thing you want to do right now is tell Jungkook your thoughts, but you find yourself opening up to him, letting your torrential feelings bubble out in what you’re not sure are even coherent words.
“I agreed to have this baby without thinking of myself. This is my first baby…and I was completely okay with giving it away. What kind of person does that make me? Desperate? Pathetic? Was I really just so starved for a connection that I agreed to do that…? Am I a homewrecker? Did I let your kindness color my perception and create this elaborate delusion that maybe there was something more between us? Or is it just the stupid crush I’ve had on you for years now that is making me think maybe, in the end, things would have been okay and that somehow by choosing my baby, you’d be choosing me, too? No. No, that can’t be it. You don’t feel that way about me. You’re married! Or…at least, you were, or well, still are…to my best—ex-best—friend. And, of course, the only way I could get a guy to notice me was to be laid out on my bathroom floor, willing to have a baby—”
“I’m going to stop you there,” Jungkook says, lightly pressing a finger against your lips. “I’m not saying that what you’re feeling isn’t valid, because you have every right to feel however you feel about things. But, I need to set some things straight, and maybe that will help. Okay?”
He’s talking to you slowly, clearly, and with so much openness in his eyes now that you just want to dive right into them and float away into their espresso-colored abyss.
“Okay.” You swallow hard against the choking feeling in your throat, knowing you need to hear him out before you spiral further.
Jungkook settles on his heels, absently letting his hands, now engulfing yours, gently press against the underside of your belly.
“You,” he pauses to take a deep breath. “You are the most selfless and beautiful person I’ve ever met. I am so sorry that I did not make that clear in the beginning. Even before all of this started, that’s what I thought, and how I felt, and everything in the last seven months has just made me see and feel that even more. I know things are confusing right now, and there is a lot we need to talk about, but I need to make it clear to you…make you understand that you are far more than just this precious baby to me.” Jungkook leans forward and presses a light kiss to your stomach, keeping his eyes on yours. “You mean more to me than that, I just…I was scared to admit that, and we both know things have been crazy lately. I’ll forever be sorry for not saying all that sooner.”
“But…what? I’m confused. Are you thinking straight right now? I mean, that baby…Jungkook, don’t worry about me. I can’t imagine what’s going through your head right now. You can talk to me. Or I can call Taehyung?”
Jungkook chuckles, the sound low and almost sad. “This is exactly what I mean. You’re trying to put me first, worrying about me. Maybe I should be broken up about all of this, but…if I’m being honest, I knew deep down that something was off. Jiyoon has been acting weird, and then Taehyung overheard her and Dani today in the breakroom at the office. It all but confirmed it. But then she had to go and be very…Jiyoon and come over here to point fingers and lay blame, all so she could justify her own guilt over what she’s been doing to me—to us.”
“Oh, Jungkook.” The memory of passing Taehyung on the elevator comes back to you, and the pieces start to fit together. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for. Please don’t feel bad for me. I don’t want to be a victim in this, I don’t want either of us to be. Things might not be perfect, but…I-I don’t regret any of this. I care about you, and if it wasn’t for all of this…” Jungkook trails off, but you think you know what he’s trying to say.
Regardless of how fucked up things are right now, if the world as you know it wasn’t shattered into a million pieces, you might not be able to see the possibilities laid out before you. The possibilities that are right in front of you.
You lean forward and hesitate, poised with your lips a breath's width from Jungkook’s. All you need is a moment to feel that it’s real, that not everything is broken beyond repair. Whether he closes the distance or you do, you’re not sure. But, the tender press of his lips against yours is all the confirmation you need.
In fairytales, a moment like this would be punctuated with fireworks or banding trumpets and beating drums. But, for you, it’s the rapid thumping of your heart and the frisson of butterflies that take flight low in your belly that let you know this is real; that this isn’t broken.
“No matter what happens, we’re in this together,” Jungkook breathes, his words caressing your lips before he moves his mouth against yours again. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, not unless you tell me to.”
“Are you sure you want me to be there?” you ask for maybe the third time since Jungkook helped you into his car.
His eyes flick from the road to yours before focusing back. “Yes. I want you there, more than anyone else. Today is a big day, what if I need an emotional support hug or something?”
He’s teasing you, you can tell. But it still makes you smile and swoon a little. It’s been a couple of weeks since what could easily be described as one of the darkest days of your life transpired. And things are finally starting to feel normal again; or as normal as it can be to have your supposed best friend nearly rip your world apart and come out on the other side with her husband by your side instead of hers.
Another few weeks have managed to fly by before you know it. And in that time, you’ve done a lot of soul-searching and talking—specifically, talking to Jungkook. There has been so much the two of you needed to talk about, both relating to Jiyoon and not. Because, somehow, despite—or maybe in spite of—all the things that have gone wrong, you and Jungkook have found yourselves drawn together closer than ever.
Things have been just a smidge more than casual between you and Jungkook. It’s like a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders and you are able to breathe deeply for the first time in a long time. Jungkook is with you and seems to be doing much better as well, the perpetual tension around him dissipating more with each passing day.
You feel like maybe you’re both toeing the same blurred line of figuring out exactly what you are to each other. The feelings are there, there’s no doubting that. It’s just working through it all to ensure you’re both making conscious decisions instead of rash ones that may be influenced by the emotion of it all.
“An emotional support hug or a freedom kiss?”
Jungkook hums thoughtfully, like he’s truly considering your question. You’ve only shared a few more kisses since the one that took place on your couch that night. But Jungkook is not afraid to shower you with affection in other ways, ways that you’re both comfortable with right now. Like how his fingers thread through your hair while you use his tummy as a pillow as you watch a movie on the couch. Or the way he helps you put on your shoes whenever you go out because he knows bending over too far can sometimes make you dizzy.
Sometimes you find yourself wanting to ask him for more, but unsure if he’ll be as open and receptive. You both agreed to not push anything and to allow it to all naturally occur, and develop on its own in a healthy way. You’re fairly certain that you both don’t want to accidentally ruin this before it has a chance to even begin.
“How much would it take for me to get both the hug and the kiss?”
It feels good to laugh, even as Jungkook pulls into the parking lot of his lawyer’s office and the mood grows more somber. There is a reason he’s here, and seemingly a reason you’re here, too.
“You can have both,” you concede with a soft smile. Because, deep down, you know he’ll probably need it; legal separation and then divorce is a nasty process, after all.
Hours and several signatures later, Jungkook looks lighter. There is a bit more bounce in his step as he takes your hand and walks you back outside. The sun is shining and you wouldn’t be surprised to see a rainbow pop up somewhere after the raincloud that just disappeared from over him.
“Well, I’m officially single now. Want to be my girlfriend?”
You can hear the teasing tone in his voice, which makes the surprised look on his face even better when you say, “Of course I would.”
“Wait. Really? You’re being serious?”
“As long as you are.”
Jungkook laughs, the sound like music to your ears after so much turmoil has passed. “You know what? I think I am. I want this,” he says, giving your hand in his a light squeeze. “I’ve wanted you for a while now.”
That light fluttering feeling in your belly that you’ve come to associate with Jungkook swoops in and you swear you can hear those fairytale romance fireworks going off somewhere in the distance as you press up onto your toes and cover his lips with yours.
“I’ve wanted you, too.”
Baby time is swiftly approaching, and with Namjoon’s blessing, you’re taking some time off of work. Or rather, time away from the office. You’ve been working at home, something that was agreed might be best until you come back from maternity leave.
On your last day in the office, it was mentioned by Hyeonwoo that he saw Jiyoon leaving Namjoon’s office, her eyes red and cheeks blotchy. Later, you were told in a private meeting that Jiyoon has been given the same extension of time out of the office, except instead of coming back after maternity leave, she is going to need to find a new place of employment. All things considered, Namjoon hated to have to let her go, but with everything that went down, he had no choice in the end.
You haven’t seen nor spoken with Jiyoon since that day in your apartment. Jungkook has, but only a few times, to take care of legal things. The divorce should be finalized in a few months after Jiyoon’s baby is born. Even though she claims the baby is not his, Jungkook told you that he knows it’s possible. If she could have gotten pregnant by Dohyun, then there might be even the smallest possibility that she could have gotten pregnant by Jungkook instead.
So, with that, he’s requested a paternity test after the baby is born and has also extended some grace to Jiyoon. He’s allowing her to live in the condo until she has the baby, time she’s using to find a new place. Because once her baby is born, the condo will be sold. Which is why you have a stack of emails with more real estate listings waiting for you to have a moment to look through them.
Jungkook presented you with the idea of moving in together about a week ago. He’s already been on a few tours—with you on video chat so you can see, too—and you both know exactly what you want in a home—the place where your son will grow up.
“Hey!” Jungkook calls from the living room. “I’m back.”
You close your laptop and set it off on the bedside table before easing forward on the pillows to sit up straighter. Laying back in bed with your feet propped up tends to help with the swelling, so you’ve been spending some time lounging in bed when you can.
“In here,” you say.
You hear Jungkook’s feet pattering down the hall for a second before his head pops through the doorway, followed by his large frame. “How’s your day been? Just been relaxing?” He comes to sit on the other side of the bed, the side he’s been sleeping on for the last two weeks.
“As much as I can relax,” you sigh, rubbing a hand over your belly. “He’s finally settled down.”
You’re not sure you’ll ever get over the way Jungkook’s face lights up when his eyes sweep over where his son is steadily growing in your body.
“I want to take you to dinner,” Jungkook announces, sliding closer to you.
One of your eyebrows quirks up because clearly he’s excited about something but is trying to keep it to himself by the vibrating energy you can feel emanating from him. “What’s the occasion?”
“Occasion? Do I need an occasion to want to take you out?” His tone speaks volumes.
You give him a playful poke in the ribs, which earns you a lopsided grin, his nose scrunching in that adorable way. “You can take me to dinner on one condition.”
“Anything! Name it.” Jungkook bounces up onto his knees, hands planted on the bed beside you.
With a finger under his chin, you turn his face toward the end of the bed, where your toes are wiggling in invitation. “Please, if you expect me to get out of this bed.”
“Oh-ho, you drive a hard bargain!” he teases. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”
Jungkook crawls down the bed and takes up a position so your feet rest on the tops of his thighs. The instant his thumbs roll across the ball of your left foot, you let out a low groan.
“That feels so good. Now, if only you could do the same to my lower back.” You let out another breathy sound, eyes fluttering shut as Jungkook slowly eases away the ache.
“Your lower back bothering you?”
You nod. “Just a bit.”
Jungkook hums softly, thoughtfully. “I think I have an idea, if you’re okay with trying.”
One of your eyes pops open, and you look at him curiously. “Does it involve getting on the floor with the yoga mat like last time? Because I don’t know if I want to roll around on the floor again.”
“No, no,” Jungkook chuckles. He switches to massaging your other foot. “It’ll be a massage, I swear.”
“No offense, Jungkook, but I’m not sure how you can massage my lower back without me laying flat on my stomach, and well—” you gesture down at your prominent baby bump “—not exactly comfortably possible.”
One of his fingers comes up in the air. “That’s where my idea comes into play. Come on, the worst that can happen is it doesn’t work. What do you say?”
“I say, what the hell, why not? But, if it doesn’t work, you owe me dinner and ice cream.”
“I think I can handle that.” Jungkook’s tone is light and teasing, it almost feels like this is what you’ve always done. Like this delicate, flirty exchange has been a part of your dynamic from the start. What has been mere weeks, feels like years…and you don’t mind that, not one bit.
It helps to thwart any awkward tension as Jungkook helps you up onto your knees with your back to him. His hands are gentle, yet firm, on your hips as he guides them back until you’re practically sitting on top of his thighs.
“If you wanted me to sit in your lap, you know you could just ask, right?” The sassy comment is out of your mouth before you can stop it, earning you a shocked laugh from Jungkook.
His hands give your hips a generous squeeze, thumbs dimpling the curvy skin right above your ass. “I’m trying to remain somewhat of a gentleman here.”
“You may continue,” you say, fully relaxing into his grip.
“Lean forward, just a little, hands on the bed. Keep your back as relaxed as you possibly can.”
To lean forward the way Jungkook wants you to, you have to spread your knees apart so your belly can fit into the space between them. The cotton babydoll dress you’re wearing is probably not the best for this, as the fabric pulls and slips dangerously high.
But the moment Jungkook’s thumbs slide up and begin to press into the sore muscles of your lower back, you’ll do just about anything, as long as he doesn't stop. The flats of his fingers cup your sides, toying along the line of your ribs as his thumbs continue to work up through your mid-back and then back down again.
You let your head hang forward between your shoulders. A low whine gets caught in your throat. “That…is easily the best thing I’ve ever felt.”
Jungkook snorts a laugh. “And you haven’t even experienced all that I have to offer yet.” It almost sounds conversational, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d mistake the underlying heat of his words for something else.
“No,” you agree. “I don’t suppose I have…yet.”
His thumbs pause for a moment, and you can feel the warmth of his breath brush across your shoulders as he exhales heavily. “Ah-um, does that feel better?”
You can tell he’s pulling back, intentionally not taking the bait. But, it’s so hard to tell if it’s because he doesn’t want to or if he’s just trying to respect you and that seemingly invisible line that the both of you have been toeing recently.
“It does.” You push your hips back ever so slightly into his touch. “But, I think it could feel better.”
“Yeah? How so?” Jungkook asks, voice low and full of barely restrained heat.
“You can stop trying to be a gentleman and show me how you really feel about me,” you suggest, peeking at him over your shoulder.
Jungkook looks like a man starved. His eyes are downcast, intent on the way his thumbs are now tracing lazy patterns across the top of your ass and over the curves of your hips. Slowly, his eyes slide up to yours, and the look there makes your heart launch into a frenzy of staccato beats.
One of his hands glides up your spine and comes around to cup your chin, turning your face even further to the side so that when he presses his body against yours, your lips are right there for his.
The kiss starts gently, like all the previous ones you’ve shared. But, soon, that isn’t enough, and you find yourself urging him for more. His tongue slides against yours as you part your lips, welcoming the wet heat of him inside your mouth.
His hands, once so restrained on your hips and lower back, map over every inch of your body that they can reach. Jungkook traces the lines of your shoulders, fingers feather-light as they pinch and pluck over the mounds of your breasts. Your dress rises and bunches as he contours his palms across your thighs and along your sides.
By the time you come up for air, your lips are tingling, and your entire body is alight. “There are many ways I feel about you,” he whispers, lips grazing along your cheek until he’s speaking into your ear. “You make me want to break the world and, in the same breath, remake it in ways inspired by the light you have given me because everyone should experience this—this beauty that you have brought to my life.”
“Words are wonderful,” you tell him, breathless and bold. “But I said show me.”
Jungkook hesitates only a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for…something. You look at him with everything that you can, hoping he can see the joys and affirmations you have for him.
“Only if you’re certain.” The words drip honey, sweet, and tantalizing. All you have to do is say yes, and you know he’ll hold nothing back.
Gripping the bottom of your dress, you bring it up and over your head before tossing it to the side. “I’m certain.”
Your nipples draw tight, just like the coil in your belly, as you wait with bated breath for Jungkook to react. He doesn’t leave you waiting long, his hands coming around to cup you, toying with the tips of your breasts. Your entire body shudders as he rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
“You are so beautiful,” Jungkook praises in a robust, husky tone. “I wonder if you taste as good as you look.”
Your body bends to his will, pliant as he supplicates you before him with your ass in the air. Jungkook slowly peels your panties down, and strings of your wetness cling to the fabric until it pops and leaves streaks of arousal webbing across your thighs. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on just from kissing and being touched by someone.
However, the way Jungkook tenderly soothes his hands over your body is different from anything you’ve ever experienced. There is a heightened sense of connection and awareness. He ensures you know exactly where he is and how hungry and eager he is to know your body.
“Jungkook,” you draw his name out, the syllables lingering on your lips as Jungkook moves his grip to your ass and squeezes. The pressure pulls at your body, opening you to him.
An appreciative hum sounds from behind you. “I want to make you feel good, but you’re in control, okay?”
You nod against the cool, soft surface of the duvet. “Okay,” you say, knowing Jungkook prefers when you vocalize your understanding when he talks to you, and you hope that carries over even into such an intimate setting.
It seems it does when he groans and whispers, “Good girl.” You only have a moment to smile to yourself at eliciting such a response before all thoughts completely empty from your head when Jungkook licks a thick stripe through your pussy.
“Jungkook!” His name is a moaned prayer, and you’re simply a mortal on her knees, ready to pay any tithe he demands as long as he doesn’t stop.
You’re rewarded with another lick. His nose presses against your body as his lips pluck in tandem with his tongue against your clit, drawing obscene noises from deep in your body.
Everything tingles, and you feel like you’re teetering on the edge almost instantly. Your body is primed and aching for more, having been starved of such pleasure for so long.
“Shh,” he soothes when you whimper at the loss of his mouth against you. “I want this to last.”
“No,” you moan. “Please. Please, fuck me. Please, Jungkook! I want to feel you, I don’t want to wait.”
Tears prick at your lashline, and you think you really might cry if he doesn’t put you out of your misery soon. “Then I won’t make you wait. I’m yours, I’m here, I promise.”
You listen to the sound of Jungkook’s belt clinking and the distinct brush of fabric as he pulls off his shirt and works his pants off. Curling to the side, you press your cheek into the mattress and let your eyes drink in his form in all its glory.
Jungkook’s tattoos are something you’ve seen many times; it’s not like he’s never been shirtless for a photo shoot or during wardrobe changes. But seeing them displayed like this? It’s wholly different. He looks like a god, chiseled from marble and lust.
The breath in your chest catches when your eyes slide down. His cock is hard and leaking, bobbing in the air so close to your body. All it would take is for you to rock back on your hips, and you’re certain you could take him into your depths.
As if sensing your intention, Jungkook palms the generous curves of your ass and keeps you firmly in place. “We are going to take this slow. I want to feel every inch of you taking me in. I want to feel the way your body squeezes and flutters as you adjust. And then I’m going to fuck you nice and slow, the way you deserve to be.”
“What I deserve is for you to shut up and fu—uhhh,” your curse turns into a throaty moan when he gives you exactly what you asked for.
The swell of him is decadent, the stretch enough for you to feel it but remaining on just the cusp of pain. It’s the perfect mix of pleasure, making you needy for more.
Jungkook’s whole body shudders against yours. He wraps his arms around you, one across your chest and the other clasped in the dip of your thigh, where his long fingers return to toying over your clit. Your back presses to his chest, leveraging your body in a way that seats you further onto his thick cock.
“Perfect,” he growls in your ear. “You’re fucking perfect. Goddamn, I could cum just feeling you around me.”
You move with him, letting your body rise and fall in sync with his shallow thrusts. It puts pressure in all the right places, and with his fingers still strumming over your clit, your body responds in kind.
“You’re going to make me—” Jungkook swallows your words, devouring you with tongue and teeth as your body succumbs to the pleasure coursing through it.
His grip on you tightens, and you can feel the moment he follows you into the embrace of ecstasy. Jungkook’s moan vibrates through your whole body, his tongue lazily dancing over yours as you both try to regain your bearings.
Somewhere between the foot massage and the orgasm, something clicked. No matter how messy life might be, nothing can take away this feeling of rightness—this feeling that the future is full of healing. For both you and Jungkook. Because perhaps once someone is shattered, the pieces might not quite fit back together as they once were, but they can still be made into something beautiful.
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©️ 2024-05-06 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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top priority
Prompt: top | Word count: 510 | Rated: G | Tags: modern setting, light angst, fluff | @steddiemicrofic | ao3
💜💜💜💜💜💜💜
Eddie’s career was doing great these days. People listened to his music, bought his albums, and recognized him on the streets.
Eddie Munson had become big.
Not over a fortnight, mind you, it was years of hard work, sleepless nights, and unyielding determination that got Eddie to where he was today.
And Steve was happy for him, willing to step back, to stay behind, to be a constant pillar so Eddie could spread his wings without worries.
Despite their relationship, he didn't expect Eddie to prioritize him over everything else.
(His parents had taught him the hard way how painful it was to hold his hope too high.)
He was content to be second, no, even third or fourth would be enough. And if it stung him to not be first on Eddie's list, then it was his own weight to bear.
Even when he hated sleeping alone on their bed, hated that Eddie's spot was often cold and empty most days, he never intended to burden Eddie with his problems.
Naturally, Steve omitted to mention that a small accident had landed him in the hospital on their nightly phone call.
When Eddie wondered why he sounded more tired than usual, he just threw some half-baked excuses and reassured Eddie that he was alright.
Since Eddie was on tours in Europe, the last thing he wanted was to be a distraction and ruin Eddie's performance.
Then again, he forgot to take Robin into account, because he should've known by now that Eddie’d bet on her to be the one informing him truthfully about Steve's well-being.
And here, sitting by his bedside, Eddie looked concerned and dead on his feet.
Judging by his disheveled appearance, anyone could tell that he had gone straight from the airport to the hospital without taking a break.
After helping Steve recline with some pillows, Eddie said nothing and just gazed at his cast with so much sadness that it pained Steve.
“C’mon, Eds,” he grabbed Eddie's hand to give the man a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not a big deal. I’m gonna be discharged soon anyway.”
“You fell from a ladder and broke your leg, baby,” Eddie brushed aside the stray hair on Steve's forehead. “That's a big deal to me.”
Shrugging, he shifted his gaze away to avoid those warm brown eyes. “Yeah, but your work is more important. I couldn't bring myself to… burden you.”
“No, I’ve told you this before and I’m telling you this now,” Eddie turned his face by his chin gently until their eyes met again. “You're never a burden, angel. You're my top priority. And nothing will ever keep me from running to you, okay?”
Steve nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. His lips might wobble a bit when he admitted quietly, “You're mine, too.”
Cradling his face, Eddie placed soft kisses on his forehead, his nose bridge, and his lips.
Then, Eddie stroked the apple of his cheek fondly.
“Lucky me.”
And Steve could hear his heart echo the same melody.
“Lucky us.”
Their love song.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#rockstar eddie munson#babygirl steve harrington#steddie fluff#sionewrites#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficmay
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I saw this one post on Twitter of how this girl’s bf pre-padded her underwear for her when she was in the shower and I thought it would be a cute idea if you wrote something like this for Eddie?
AN | No, but this is so sweet! Eddie would totally be that boyfriend. 💕
Warnings | Language, Reader has period
Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2.6k
Masterlist | Main, Eddie
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You groaned as you flopped onto your bed, tired and hungry, and feeling like your insides were eating themselves. You laid there for a moment before, wondering if you could kick off your pants and just continue lying there. It was a feeble attempt and didn’t get you very far and it just made things even more uncomfortable.
“Fuck,” with a heavy sigh, you rolled onto your back and stared at your ceiling, breathing in and out slowly in order to attempt to quell your internal turmoil, “fuck.”
Before you could get up, your phone buzzed next to you. When you grabbed it and saw that there was a new text from Eddie, you immediately felt better. And then remembered that you were supposed to spend the night at his place tonight. Now you weren’t so sure that you should. Not that you were weirded out by having your period in front of Eddie, or that Eddie would be grossed out by it, you were genuinely feeling terrible…and mildly worried about Eddie witnessing you having your period.
But you really wanted to see Eddie. It had been a few days since you’d seen him, both of you busy with work and other fun adult things, and you’d been missing him a lot. You were going to see him, you decided, he was worth dealing with a little pain.
You texted him back and let him know that you’d be over soon, but also warned him that your period had started. Just in case you got there and fell asleep within minutes after eating a bar of chocolate.
After you managed to peel yourself off the bed, you packed your overnight bag and headed to Eddie’s apartment. If there was anything that could make you feel better it was Eddie and motrin. You’d consumed the one and were only a short drive away from the other.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Eddie opened the door for you before you even managed to knock, a pretty smile on his face and his big brown eyes alive and bright.
“Hey baby,” he took your bag from you before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling in you for a sweet kiss, “missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too,” his sweet words always still managed to make your face warm up. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged tightly onto him, causing him to laugh softly. He set down your bag before hugging you back just as fiercely, before taking your face in his hands and peppering your face in gentle kisses.
“There’s my girl,” he whispered as finally managed to put a proper smile on your face, “I’m sorry you’re suffering. But I’m glad you’re here so I can hopefully make you feel better.”
“Just seeing you has made me feel better,” you promised, “besides, it’s not like you made me get my period.”
“No…but I can help you get rid of it,” it took you a moment to catch onto what he was saying - until you saw the smirk and raised eyebrow on his face, “for a while anyway.”
“I…Eddie,” you playfully shoved him as the two of you laughed, your face warm at the idea of getting pregnant by him, “first of all - you’re the worst. And second of all, let’s get back to that discussion in a few years.”
He didn’t say anything but he managed to make a small sound in the back of the throat, that sounded almost strained. He was immediately struggling not to let his mind wander too far in that direction just yet, “yeah - yeah, c’mon. Tell me how to make it better. Have you eaten? Are you hydrated? Need a nap?”
“Yes…ish to both of those,” you offered him a sheepish expression as you walked into the kitchen to get yourself some water. He trailed after you with an incredulous look on his face. He definitely wouldn’t have been able to handle it as well as you, “I’ve been working and dying, Eddie. I haven’t had time to worry about anything!”
“Well, how about you let me make it better? I’m going to make dinner and you’re going to take a nice, hot shower,” he started to usher you towards the bathroom, “I’ve heard that can help. So hopefully it does. I got that body wash and shampoo and conditioner that you like too. You’re here enough anyway, figured it’d be nice for you to have some stuff here.”
“You did that for me?” you turned around and looked at him with wide eyes as he slowly nodded. Your heart warmed; you had been spending more and more time at his place and it was nice to have things moving in that direction. You did want to move in with him soon - everytime you imagined your future it was always with Eddie. You sighed softly, “that’s so sweet, Eddie. Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he insisted, “I just want you to be comfortable and feel better.”
“Do you know one thing that would help even more?” you offered him a coy smile which was answered with a soft laugh.
“You want some of my clothes for pajamas?” he asked as you nodded eagerly, “one step ahead of you. I’ve got a fresh towel and clean clothes for you in the towel warmer.”
Before he met you, he’d never have even considered a towel warmer. Hell, he didn’t even know that people actually owned them. It seemed like such a ridiculous luxury, and maybe it was, but he was willing to listen. You’d insisted that he needed one and that they were totally worth it…the next time you were over at his place, he’d bought a towel warmer.
“You are amazing, Eddie Munson,” you pulled him in for a kiss and let your lips linger against his. His arms wrapped around you without hesitation as he kissed you a few more times, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” his big brown eyes grew soft as he practically turned to putty in your arms, “now go and get comfy and warm and I’ll make dinner.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Eddie had gone in and turned on the shower, turning it to the perfect temper. You’d shaken your head at him, but before he left you to your own devices, he helped you to gently strip off your clothes. It was such a small, intimate thing, but it meant so much to you. Once you were rid of all your clothing, Eddie held your hand as you stepped into the shower. He gave you a small kiss before heading back to the kitchen to finish dinner.
When Eddie had said that he’d purchased a few of your things to keep at his place, he wasn’t kidding. Along with the things he used, where all the things you loved and kept at your own apartment were in the shower. He was always doing things like this, things that he thought were so small and insignificant but that meant so much to you.
You took your sweet time to get clean, relishing the feel of the hot water on your skin before reluctantly stepping out of the shower. Once you stepped out of the shower and opened the towel warmer, you were greeted by the sight of a big, fluffy towel along with a fresh set of Eddie's clothes. They happened to be some of your favorites that you often stole from him.
But it was the sight on the countertop that caught your eye and piqued your curiosity. It was clean underwear that happened to have a fresh pad stuck to it. You raised an eyebrow but your heart melted at the gesture. Eddie had this planned all along.
You dried yourself off and slipped on the clean underwear and clothes before slipping out of the bathroom. You heard Eddie in the kitchen, singing softly to himself as he shuffled around. You loved this man. Truly, fully, so much that it made your heart ache.
He stopped as soon as he heard you, looking up to catch your eye and offer you a small smile. He looked so pretty with his hair piled on top of his in a bun, sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It was ridiculous the effect the simple clothing had on you.
“Hey baby,” he whispered softly, “feeling better?”
“Much,” you confirmed as you went over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “thank you for everything. The underwear…where did you get that idea? I wasn't expecting it, but it was really nice. No one’s ever done anything like that for me.”
“It wasn’t…a big deal,” his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as he tried to play it off, “I, umm, I saw some people mention it on twitter and yeah. It was just an idea. You’re dealing with enough right now, so it just seemed like an easy thing to do.”
“Well, I appreciate it very much,” you promised, gently nudging his hip with yours, “I appreciate you very much, Eddie. Thank you.”
He mumbled something in response as he focused his attention on his pan. He wasn’t one to look for praise and you knew that the attention sometimes made him shy. You made sure he knew just how much you loved and cherished him.
You grabbed some plates and helped him to finish up dinner. He tried to protest but you ignored him; you wanted to help him. You liked working together, you were a team after all.
When he grabbed plates and piled them with food, you were excited to see that he had made your favorites. He had really gone all out just to make you feel better.
The two of you took your time eating, before moving to the couch and cuddling up next to each other. You were tucked into Eddie’s side with his arm around you, your favorite place to be, with a big, warm blanket thrown over the two of you. Eddie had let you take your pick of what to watch and you’d settled on a true crime documentary. He never understood why you were able to relax to such things, but he never questioned it. He just enjoyed it along with you.
You made it about halfway through the first episode of the series before you felt yourself nodding off. You tried to fight it but eventually gave in and let yourself fall asleep. Eddie hadn’t been surprised, but glad you were able to relax. He paused the show and made sure you were as comfortable as possible as he let you sleep for a bit. Before it got too late, he’d wake you up to go to bed.
Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of your head, making sure you were as comfortable as possible. You were still semi-aware, in that almost asleep but still mildly awake state, and you were almost positive that you heard Eddie singing softly under his breath. It was sweet, warm and rich, and you were pulled into the siren’s call of slumber and fell asleep.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you were gently woken by Eddie. You blinked a few times to clear away the bleariness and found him smiling at you. He gently brushed some of your hair out of your face, brushing his knuckles tenderly against your cheek.
“I think it’s time for bed, huh pretty girl?” he whispered as you nodded meekly. Getting into bed and wrapped up with him sounded like almost heaven. You slowly climbed up and off the couch, stretching slowly to wake up your tired bones and muscles. Eddie follow up suit before wrapped his arms around your waist and slowly padding along with you to his bedroom, “wanna know a secret?”
“Tell me,” you murmured as he pressed a big kiss to your cheek, causing you to laugh softly.
“I always sleep better with you,” he confessed softly, almost unsure if he should have admitted it to you, “I can’t wait till we can sleep together every night.”
That was enough to make your heart flutter with excitement and nerves. Eddie was definitely part of your future, but it still made you feel good to know that you were part of his too.
“Me too, Eddie,” you promised and then you remembered your current predicament, “oh. Are you sure you want me to sleep in your bed?”
“Umm,” he looked at you, brows creasing in confusion, “yes? Why wouldn’t I?”
“What if I….bleed on your sheets or something?” your face warmed up as you tried not to think about the embarrassment you’d feel if that actually happened, “I don’t want to make it gross.”
“Baby,” so soft and tender that it almost made you cry, “I’m not worried about a little blood. It’s not disgusting or gross at all. If it happens, we’ll wash the sheets and call it a day. The only thing I’m worried about is making sure you’re doing okay.”
“I….yeah,” you looked at him with teary eyes and he smiled fondly at you before wiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “I’m doing alright. Because of you - you’ve made me feel a lot better.”
“And to think you were going to cancel on me,” he tutted softly as he ushered you into the bedroom and started to turn down the bed, “you know you never have to hide anything from me. I want to hear everything, all the good and all the bad.”
“I know,” you admitted softly, “it seems so silly now.”
“Well you are a member of the silly goose society,” he kissed the tip of your nose as you snorted in amusement, “anything else you need before we get in bed?”
“I just have to use the bathroom and then I’ll be good to go,” you started padding towards the bathroom. Eddie trailed after you, already reaching into the cabinet under the sink to grab a fresh pad for you. You reached for it to replace the one you had just tossed into the trash but Eddie didn’t let you take it, instead sticking it into your underwear for you, “thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he whispered, “it’s not a big deal at all. Need some painkillers or anything?”
“I just need you,” you grinned, washing your hands before letting Eddie pulled back towards the bed.
“You’re in luck,” he slid under the covers, holding them up so you could get in after him, “I’m all yours and I’m ready to cuddle.”
“Sounds perfect,” Eddie immediately pulled you into his arms, tangling his limbs with yours. You relaxed and melted into him, his warm body having a soothing effect on yours, “I love you, Eddie.”
“I love you too, baby,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a row of kisses to your shoulder, “get some rest. And if you need anything at all, just tell me, okay?”
“I will,” you squeezed his hand, “promise me you’ll always tell me if you need anything too.”
“I promise always,” he said through a yawn that you ended up echoing, “good night, sweetheart.”
“Good night, Eddie.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson one shot#st#joseph quinn
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be there when I wake up — k.mg drabble.
❝ in which you love mingyu in all states of your mind, whether sober or drunk out of your limit.
( or it seems even when you're drunk you don't recognise him but you still love him with your whole heart. )
pairing : secret agent! husband mingyu x secret agent! spouse reader.
warnings : mentions of alcohol and being drunk, hangovers, reader almost has a breakdown (?).
genre : fluff, romance.
a/n : more of them, I can't get enough I have too much to write on them😔 let me know what you think of this 💌!! not proofread (this was very random pls I am absolutely NOT procrastinating my other wips, ignore errors pls it's lit 5am 😴 )
word count : 1.3k
part of this au !
It felt like you were on cloud nine, feet light as you walked and head filled with nothing.
Being drunk tends to do that to you at least.
Today, when Mingyu and you got your well deserved day off, he decided it was time for you to be the one to let yourself loose.
Not that he never did let you but usually you were the one who assigned yourself as the designated driver whenever it was just you two. Though being as thoughtful as he was, he made sure to never be too hectic for you to handle if he could do it himself.
And even then, he'd still do his best to stabilise himself albeit the attempts were always hilarious but the thought counted.
He held you tightly by your waist to his side, making sure you didn't fall or wander off somewhere because see while he was the type to be the clingy drunk, not leaving your side, you were the carefree one, wanting to fly away, perhaps even quite literally.
As your husband and more importantly lover, he did not want to entertain the idea of you hurting yourself by accident. Luckily, all the gym hours he’d spend building his muscles to impress his one and only lifetime crush (read:you) paid off, because you used him completely as a support to walk, leaning all your weight on him.
Your cheeks were warm, eyes half lidded, now the pain in your cheeks was prominent from smiling so much, it seemed you smiled more when drunk than sober in a few months. It wasn’t because you were emotionless but rather only smiled to those who deserve it, which was only a handful of people. Your husband is on the top of course.
Speaking of your husband, you suddenly paused in your steps, remembering him. Realising you were clinging onto someone, you pushed yourself away, smile dropping and being replaced by a frown while you glared.
Mingyu blinked once, twice, a little startled from being pushed away and even more when he saw your glare.
“You shouldn’t hold some stranger like that, mister.” You could make out the silhouette in front of you, but the face was a blur. The classic case of drunken forgetfulness.
“Babe-”
“BABE? Are you crazy? Only my husband can call me that! Which by the way.” You put out your left hand, pointing towards the shiny ring. The shiny ring he got you. “See!I’m married!”
“And-and I am very happy with my Gyu, I don’t need you- or or anyone courting me- I am very happy with my relationship sir.”
Fuck. Why did you have to say it like that?
He couldn’t stop the grin on his face, there was no way he could even if he tried to. Only you could make him feel like the first time he'd ever have a crush on someone. His heart raced, almost too fast. He swears he can feel his chest fill with even more love.
“Okay, okay how about I get you to your car?”
“No mister! I re-refuse I don't want to go with you, where's Mingyu? Where's Gyu???”
You were whining at this point, finding your legs too tired so you ended up just sitting. Right in the middle of the pavement.
Mingyu’s eyes widened when you sat down but even more in panic, the smile dropping as he saw you bring your hands to your face.
You were crying.
“Where's Gyu? Did he leave me?” A hiccup came after the sentence, as your vision got more blurry with the tears flowing even more freely.
He rushed towards you squatting beside you, pulling you into his side.
“Honey, I'm here. Shh. I'm here.”
You looked up from your position, making sure to blink to clear out the tears and there he was. Your husband.
“Gyuuu” Your words slurred and choked up as you threw yourself at him. Him immediately wrapping his hands around you, still in the sitting position.
Your arms looped yourself around his neck as you put your head in the crook of his neck, still crying.
“I thought you le-left.”
“I'd never. I would never leave you.”
“Please don't.”
Slowly, he got up, pulling you gently up as well, still holding onto you and your entire weight now leaned on him.
“Come on, you wanna head home?” You pulled your face away from the nook, looking up at him as your sobs stopped turning to sniffles.
He moved one hand to hold your face as he caressed your cheek, pushing your stray hair strands behind your ears with delicate touches.
Your eyes began to droop, the side effects of being drunk slowly overcoming you. You just simply nodded as you put your head back to his comfy shoulder.
Sighing, he shook his head as he noticed your breathing slowing down, coming out in slow exhales, meaning you just passed out drunk.
He softly smiled as his hand still caressed your hair. He wouldn't have it any other way.
[ bonus cut : the following morning ]
You were sure this was your karma catching up to you because the way your head was splitting was surely due to your supposed horrible past deeds. There was no other reason.
“Good morning sunshine~”
“Zip. Shut. Shh. Not a word.”
Mingyu frowned, pouting at your harsh reply, but a small pity formed as he saw you wake up while holding your head in pain.
“That's mean.”
“Not mean enough, I will actually kill you.”
Being the ever so doting husband he was, he'd gotten up from your shared bed, made breakfast, your favourite food by the way, and even gotten ready for the day.
“Have this, you'll feel better so that maybe you can plan my murder better hm?”
And now there he sat down beside you on your bed, a painkiller in one hand with a glass of water.
You grabbed the water like you had never touched it in your existence, gulping it down along with the pill,even if it ended up spilling onto your clothes. You frankly don't care.
Mingyu gazed at you with the same adoration he always had. He loved you at all times, anytime. He just knew that he loves you. He didn't think he said it enough.
“I love you.” You almost choked on the water, gulping it down before it sprayed out. You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Can I not say I love you to my spouse?” He honestly felt offended at the suspicious look on your face.
“Alright…”
Now it was his turn to squint at you in question, as if waiting for something.
“I guess I love you too.” You were pulling his leg, you loved to see that look on his face where it seemed as though someone had stepped on his tail. Like a puppy who’s tail had been stepped on by mistake
“I don't even want to talk to you. Bye.” He snatched the empty glass, glaring at you now, you knew it was not with any sort of malice, you knew him. He turned around, purposefully stomping and then you couldn't stop the laughter.
You burst out in giggles, clutching your stomach, the headache subsiding.
You threw off the blanket and rushed after him, hugging him from behind, hands barely wrapping around his large frame but it did stop him. You placed your face sideways on his back.
“I'm kidding, I'm kidding, I love you. Like surely. One hundred percent.” You said still chuckling, the grin on your face not faltering.
He wasn't even upset in the first place, because the moment he heard your laugh, his own grin formed widely on his face.
“You mean it?”
“I do. Always did. And will.”
And perhaps this was what it meant to be loved. And to love.
for my dearest @etherealyoungk ; THIS IS A VERY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY GIFT TO MY WIFE 🫂 ( blame that on the fact that this was totally not what I planned to write for ur birthday 😔) I love you so much and I can't believe we got close this soon <3 I wish I could have known you before because it feels like I know you since so long, you're literally my soulmate like??? i hope you have an amazing year ahead soo here is ur fave couple as a present mwahh (mine too lowkey)
perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys
( if you want to be added just send an ask/reply to this !)
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024
feedback is always appreciated 💌 !
links : main navi ! | svt masterlist ! | info !
#[ pri works ]#k labels#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu#svt#svt imagines#mingyu drabbles#mingyu scenarios#mingyu seventeen#mingyu#svt fic#svt mingyu#svt fluff#svt scenarios#svt reactions#svt fanfic#svt x reader#svt x you#mingyu x you#mingyu fluff#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt drabbles#x gn reader#x male reader#x female reader
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Last trimester~
Pairing: Husband! Damian Wayne x Pregnant!Wife! Reader
Warning: Mentions of vomiting, reader is like 6-7 months pregnant
Word count: 750
Damian is confused. Every inch of his home has been clean to the T, not a single dust left behind to stick itself on any surface it comes across. So why on earth are you still vomiting your guts out? It started once you had emerged into the third trimester of your pregnancy, everything seemed to be going smoothly, and you were lucky enough to only handle a handful of morning sickness and after a while, they just stopped. Maybe it was karma coming to bite you in the ass for bragging about not getting sick every five minutes and here you are now, sitting on the couch, relaxed as you lean back wearing a pair of black sweats and a shirt that was once too big for you rolled up over your stomach to show off its roundness.
A sigh escapes your lips as you soothe away the slight pain after the precious being you’ve been creating and holding for the past seven months has decided to be cruel and kick at you to stop. “Here you go Habibti” Damian comes from the kitchen with a glass of water in his hands as she walks over to you and passes it down to you. You take it from his hands with a small ‘thank you’. He notices that slight pain expression on your face as he watches you rub away at your belly. “Have they been given you a hard time?”
“Not as much as I’d like to admit,” you say as you take a few sips of water. Damian takes it upon himself, after watching you finish the drink he takes the glass from your hand—kneeling right in between your legs as he places the glass cup on the ground. You watch him with tired eyes as his arms lift and his warm hands replace yours; finding a spot on your stomach. His warm hands feel much better than yours, the context making you sigh out and your own hands find his to be placed on top of. Damian’s hands start to roam around your stomach, your head falls back slightly, and find yourself closing your eyes as you enjoy the warm sensation.
“I cleaned the bathrooms, kitchen, our bedroom, the baby’s bedroom, and any other spare rooms in this house” he mumbles, eyes never leaving you as you hum. “Thank you, but you didn’t need—“
“I do if unwanted smells have been making you ill” A soft smile breaks out on your lips, eyes still closed as you sigh for the nth time. “And besides, it’s the least I can do. I feel useless seeing you in such a state. I feel like I’m not doing as much as I should be doing for my pregnant wife” Damian can feel you grip his hands slightly as you open your tried eyes and glance down.
“Oh ~” you coo, “you’re doing more than enough. Trust me” he cracks a smile, hands leaving your stomach as they find a place beside your thighs. He lifts himself, but not fully as he leans over your relaxed from on the couch. His green eyes find yours:
“I love you”
“I love you too” and Damian leans down to steal a kiss, one that lasts for a while but is cut very short with a rough push on his shoulders. He takes a glance of concern. Your face is pale and a hand over your mouth.
“Bathroom?” He asked and all it takes from you is a nod and he’s rushing you into the bathroom. He holds your hair back, watching as you vomit up your breakfast lunch, and snack. You can feel his warm hand rubbing your back gently. Damian helps you up and helps you freshen yourself up.
“I don’t think he likes it in there anymore, think he just wants out” You poke at your stomach and wince when you feel a harsh kick “Rude”
“He?” Damian asked “How can you be so sure?” you and Damian are waiting for the baby to be born to find out the gender, so it’s unknown to both of you at the moment. “Call it a mother’s intuition” you shrug with a smile.
Damian pinches at your cheeks softly with one hand and the other finds a place on your stomach once more “I still think it’s a girl”
“Nope, it’s a boy. One hundred percent” he rolls his eyes, dragging you to your shared bedroom.
Where the hell have I been?😭
#damian al ghul#damian wayne#damian wayne x reader#damian al ghul x reader#damian x reader#robin x reader#damian scenarios#damian wayne headcanon
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hi! i’m praying your reqs are open lmao,, can I please request for a percy’s sister!reader x leo where it’s a whole enemies to best friends to lovers and percabeth were just secretly shipping us from the start 🥹
🪼┊ ༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃, 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋
↳ leo valdez x daughter of poseidon oneshot ೃ࿔₊
☀️ sunni’s notes : THANK UUUU FOR REQUESTING!! (i loved ur leo angst blurb even though it did hurt me like LORDDD) i will never get tired of writing for this trope 🤞🤞 its just TEWWW good!! SORRY IM TAKING SO LONG WITH THESE REQUESTS I SWEAR IM NOT THIS UNRELIABLE. this one’s pretty long but, this was way too fun to write so i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i loved reading it 💛 anyhoo, sunkisses!! happy reading!!
ೃ࿔₊
WOULD A BOY LIKE YOU LIKE A GIRL LIKE ME!
(name) (last name) hated the way leo was so self-centered. how he was charismatic, and managed to be good at mechanics and ladies alike. she hated the smirk he always had on his face, and how he couldn’t fix his greasy hair or atleast wipe his dirty tank.
COULD SOMEONE LIKE YOU LIKE SOMEONE LIKE ME!
leo valdez hated the way (name) was always swaying her hips like that as she walked. how she was beautiful, and managed to be so, sweet even when the other person happened to be a bitch. he hated the way her hair was always perfect after swimming, but can’t manage to atleast make eye contact with him.
ೃ࿔₊
ANNABETH WATCHED (name) argue with leo for the fifth time in the past week. she sighed, “what are they arguing about now??” percy strode his way beside his daughter of athena girlfriend.
“your sister looked at leo the wrong way and leo started burning her shoelaces.” percy glanced down at the black and burnt ends of (name)’s shoelaces, a chuckle escaping his lips.
“for the last time— i didn’t give you a stank eye!” (name) grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, upset. leo looked right through her, his brown eyes narrowing at her upset expression. “so stop burning my shoelaces!! i still need them. god.” (name) had made her final point before walking away from the son of hepheastus.
percy walked beside leo, pinching the side of his stomach, “the hell do you think your doing?” percy asked. leo yelped at the pinch, and as well as percy’s appearance. percy had that shit-eating grin that he gave his sister’s pursuers. “don’t give me that look perce, she was totally looking at me weird.”
“awww!” annabeth coo’d, “they remind me of us seaweed brain.” she kissed percy’s cheek. leo’s cheeks flared up a tint of pink, “okay first— where’d you come from?” he pointed to percy. “and second of all, we do not remind you of.. — you, i don’t know whatever, it’s too early for this.” leo rambled, feeling the heat in his ears escalate.
annabeth raised both her brows, “you’re mad at her for looking at you?” she asked him, “isn’t that what you want?” percy continued her sentance.
leo grumbled again, running his fingers through his hair, “ay.. mierda.” he mumbled. “ahhh..” percy sang. “you have a crush on my sister valdez.”
“NO I DONT.”
“… but if i said yes, are you going to kill me?”
“probably.”
annabeth nudged percy hard on the stomach. percy winced in pain, “god she’s got an arm.” the son of poseidon hugged his stomach in pain. “what he means is you should atleast try and show that you’re interested in her. all you’ve ever done is burn her shoelaces, her jacket, and the drawing she was working on the other day!”
annabeth exclaimed, percy in the background groaning in pain. “oh stop being a baby, percy.”
leo sighed, “actually i almost burnt her hair the other day— which.. will be a story.. for another time..” percy’s eyes widened. “is that why she smelt like burnt popcorn the other day?! leo—“ he snarled, annabeth stopping him before he could kill the poor guy.
“be. nice.” annabeth shot at leo before walking away with percy to go engross in something else. “but he was— i’m gonna—“ leo could hear from the short ditsance of the couple.
ೃ࿔₊
IT WAS UNEXPECTED. (name) walked back to cabin three with a light in her chest. “PERCY!” she barged inside. percy jumped, “(nickname), i’m taking a nap here.” she threw a pillow in his face, “hey!”
“leo got me shoelaces to replace the burnt ones and apologized for the other things he’s burnt. THAT’S SO WEIRD?” she whisper-yelled in her brother’s face as she sat on the edge of his bunk. percy rubbed his eyes, the bed head very visible the strands of his jet black hair out and about. “how’s that weird? the guy’s just trying to be nicer. about time.”
(name) agreed, it shouldn’t be weird. but it was just so sudden. then she thought about him, his smile, maybe it wasn’t always a mischievous one. and his tank? no lie, he did look really attractive in it. his smile.. wait didn’t she just think of it?
“(name) you’re as red as frank when he found out about sex.”
she threw another pillow at percy’s face.
ೃ࿔₊
THE SEVEN, (and some added guests) made their way to camp’s lake to go canoing. “alright! so,” annabeth made her way to the front of the group. “me and perce, obviously. frank and hazel. jason and pipes. nico and will. reyna and rachel. (name) and leo. any questions?”
“I DO!”
“I DO!”
leo and (name) turned to each other with their hands both raised. “i don’t wanna go canoing with him!” she shot. leo scrunched his brows. “i’m not that bad! i already apologized for all the stuff i’ve burnt!”
“oh yeah, WITH A FROWNED FACE!”
“okay, enough! we can’t have you guys switch, just, manage and don’t try to drown each other?”
leo and (name) hopped in their canoe last, while the others rushed to go look around. “hey, i’m suppose to be in the back. the leader’s in the back.” (name) shot again, “oh yeah? and who made you leader?” leo put his foot in the back seat. (name) snarled, putting her own foot in the back.
“me. daughter of poseidon.” leo chuckled with a smug smile, “that was cringe.” (name) hit him on the head with her oar.
leo let her be leader.
ೃ࿔₊
AFTER A BIT, (name) had grown tired and leo offered to paddle on his own. weird. instead, she played with the water with her fingers and listened to the birds in the forest. leo watched her, his lips curving into a small smile.
“you’ve been canoing yeah?” leo asked. “sure. percy’s usually always the one paddling though, since he’s faster.” the curly-head latino nodded, listening to her words slip out like honey. wait what?
he flushed at the thought, shaking it away as he paddled and looked away from her in attempts to help him calm down.
their canoe was nudged, slightly moving. “what was that?” leo breathed, hugging his oar. (name) furrowed her brows at him, “what was what?” the canoe was nudged by something underneath again. “that!” in a panicked voice, leo sat by (name) and gripped her arm. “leo the canoe! it’s gonna lose—“
the canoe tipped over to the back flipping them underwater. the two held their breath, while (name) held leo’s waist as she brought them up to the surface. leo couldn’t swim, it was obvious by the way he was coughing and struggling to catch his breath.
“it’s just an otter!” (name) sang with a smile, the baby brown creature swimming away. “it’s adorable!” she coo’d. leo had his arm around (name)’s neck as he clutched his chest, continuing to pant. (name) kept her arms around his waist, “god you look terrible.”
his hair and ‘chb’ shitt damp, leo shot her a glare. “this is unfair.” he looked at her very dry hair and very dry shirt. she kicked underwater to keep them afloat, a giggle escaping her lips.
their laughs harmonized as they stayed in the water.
the two became inseperable since then. they were an unstoppable duo, fireboy and watergirl. they called them. they landed a lot of pranks around camp, usually did duties together, and even after percy offered (name) to go together to sally’s place after the end of summer, she insisted she’d stay with leo.
ೃ࿔₊ end of summer.
“hey watergirl, canoing?” leo walked inside cabin three with an oar in his hand. “HELL YEAH!!” camp half-blood was pretty empty, with only about ten other campers around to stay all-year round because of non-existent homes they couldn’t go to.
and since it was almost fall, you could smell the crisp of autumn air and the breeze that constantly pinched your skin. leo and (name) hopped into their canoe and began their paddling, “(name)?” leo hummed as (name) played with the water, just like last time. “yeah?” she giggled.
leo melted into her smile, “i have something for you.” (name)’s eyes gleamed. leo always made her things, but for some reason, this felt extra special. leo clicked his tongue, almost sort of in animal call and an otter swam closer to them.
(name)’s lips parted as the cuddly otter held out a silver heart locket in it’s hands. “take it watergirl, come on.” leo motioned his head to the otter. (name) had her jaw dropped, taking the locket and opening it. — a picture of them inside.
“(name), i’ve liked you forever now, and .. sorry.” he trembled a smile. (name) lifted her head look at him in the eye, “oh my gods leo. i, i love it.” she beamed, (name) made her way towards him. “(name)! you’re gonna tip the canoe!” leo laughed. “i don’t care!” she laughed with him, kissing him as she kneeled in-between his legs.
closing their eyes and feeling the moment, it was too late to realize that their canoe was tipping, and they had been flipped once again.
(name) brought leo again, up to the surface, and since (name) had been giving him lessons, he wasn’t too winded from the previous canoe-flipping sitch. they laughed together again, and this time,
(name) had chosen to get her hair and shirt damp. “you can say you got me flipped, watergirl.”
“cringe.”
“hey! it was cute! c’mon!!”
#— sunni adores leo (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡#leo valdez#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez oneshot#leo valdez fic#leo valdez headcanons#heroes of olympus x reader#heroes of olympus#pjoverse#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson fic
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I’m in love with the idea of yuuta being with a reader that has healing abilities
Imagine him coming back from missions with such MINOR injuries and having to go to shoko’s clinic for it, and always asking for you to be the one to look after him 😂
“Yuuta I don’t think you need to have this checked… and don’t you know how to use reversed curse energy too?”
“….no”
Or one time he shows up without any injuries so he has to fake a migraine or something lmaooo that simp would use any chance he could get just to see you
obsessed. lovesick yuuta is so stupid and i love him sm for it <3
yuuta only ever saw shoko in passing, and always away from the infirmary. he admired shoko well enough, and the feeling was mutual (or as mutual as shoko was capable of feeling) but he simply never had a need to visit her for her abilities. having mastered rct not long into his first year as a student yuuta was capable of taking care of his own injuries.
but after a few years, shoko began to notice an uptick in the younger sorcerer's presence in her infirmary. and it was no secret what it was that brought him around.
"okkotsu, back again so soon?" your voice is a sweet coo- it always is when he comes staggering in to present you with yet another injury. you tilt your head and pout t him with worry. meanwhile shoko has to excuse herself for a smoke so she won't vomit from the sickening sweetness.
yuuta never questions shoko's disappearance when he comes around. he's too grateful to have you all to himself.
he's cradling his broken wrist poorly, letting his hand flop outwards at an angle it wasn't meant to be bent. its gruesome, the bone showing and blood staining his white jacket. but the difficult part isn't managing the pain. the difficult part is holding back the natural instinct to fix it himself.
"this looks nasty," you tut, replacing his hand holding the ugly injury with both of your own. you barely examine it for a minute before you're using own technique, and like magic his wrist repaired and his hand is facing the right direction again. "there we go" you give the fix a smile, squeezing his wrist first and then reaching for his hand and prodding your fingers around that too. you tell yourself you're only double checking to be sure everything healed properly.
it takes all of yuuta's efforts not to snatch your hand in his own and hold on tight. he can feel every muscle in his body relaxing as he gazes at you.
"thanks, doc" he says, and just like the last hundred or maybe thousand times he's said it, you smile just a little bit.
"anytime, okkotsu," you tell him, and you mean it, but something about this visit has you questioning him for once. your fingers finally still on his hand, a few wrapped around his own fingers, others pressed into his palm. your pinky stretches out to the inside of his healed yet bloody wrist, hovering against his pulse point. "but... it must be tiring, coming 'round here to get fixed up..." you trail off, catching his eyes even though he was clearly trying to avoid yours. "...when you could just heal yourself"
yuuta's face begins to flush with color and you can't help but squeeze his hand with your delight. did you think he was an idiot for pulling this stunt over and over again for the last few months? maybe... but were you the idiot that watched him waltz in here with every excuse under the sun- from his organs nearly spilling out to a minor headache- who was more than happy to sit and heal him anyways? perhaps...
"...suppose it can be"
yuuta's answer comes closely, and without much explanation to you at all. you only smile at him, dropping one of your hands from his so that when you leaned in closer to him, you could swipe his messy bangs away from his eyes.
"if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were looking for an excuse to come see me" your voice is a whisper, and also the sweetest thing yuuta's ever heard in his life.
"maybe every once in a while..." he admits, and in his mind, your giggle outranks your whispered voice.
"so you think using up all my band-aids for your nicks and paper cuts was necessary?" you tease, tilting your head at him ever so slightly.
"i mean... i'd say mission accomplished" he replies with a grin that could only be described as shit eating.
you roll your eyes at him, but your own smile is nothing short of fond.
"okkotsu yuuta, the next time i see you in here, it better be because you're coming to ask me out properly, and not while you're bleeding all over my floor"
his grin softens as he melts before you.
"noted"
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𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬
𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥’𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮
𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: this is real old and angsty like not for fake. it’s short though. also i grew up catholic so u gotta bear w the lil references and shit. trigger warning religious talk kinda
She couldn’t remember much of the year if she was being honest.
She could remember her best friends’ wedding.
She could remember Valentine’s day.
She could remember March and April breezing past her, a mixture of Easter and celebrating her friend’s birthday.
She could remember the drowsiness that overcame her in May. She could remember how it followed her well into June.
She could remember her friend’s baby being born, and she could remember smiling down at his tiny squished face.
And she was happy for them, she was. But, when she found herself in her newly quiet home at the end of the day, the reality remained that she was alone. Utterly alone. No one to turn to. No one to rely on. Alone. She felt that this was her fault.
When her friend called and cried to her about new motherhood delivering a swift kick to her backside, she accepted the opportunity to stay with her friends for a few days, maybe even weeks— however long it would take for her friend to get back on her feet with a new addition to the household.
The record was three weeks. July was almost over. Amelie, ever-grateful, had even told her that she could go back home if she wanted. The woman, not wanting to overstay her welcome, accepted that as well.
She had been accepting a lot of things, it seemed. She would leave the following week, after the event that was planned meticulously for the baby.
It was when she was getting ready to go to sleep early— the baby had a habit of scream-crying at the break of dawn and she liked being up with him— that she received a knock at the guest bedroom door. Curious, she tip-toed across the room and found herself opening the door to reveal her tired friend whose smile grew as she rocked her fast-asleep son. [y/n] invited them in and grabbed the baby at once, sitting on the bed with his little body cradled in her arms.
“Okay, I wanted to tell you so that you weren’t, like, bombarded with this,” Amelie began after a small chat about how the baby had just done something cute.
She involuntarily put pressure on her eyebrows, furrowing them together.
Amelie folded her hands in her lap. “You know his baptism is next week and you know you’re his Godmother, of course... I tried to talk Trent out of it, but he’s going to make you know who his Godfather.”
She could feel herself gasp at the mention of you know who. She definitely knew who.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I get it. And I get it if you’re not ready to see him. I can have someone else step in as his Godmother for the ceremony if you can’t do it. You don’t have to go to the party. What are you feeling?” Amelie asked.
She bit the skin of her bottom lip. She looked down at the almost two-month-old who looked so much like her friends that it was crazy. He was blinking up at her with his bottom lip poked out, looking scandalized. She laughed and rubbed the pad of her finger over his dark waves.
“I’m feeling a little overwhelmed… But I can do it. I don’t care about him. This is for my Godbaby. Right? This is for my Godson,” she cooed to the baby who half-smiled.
“You’re sure?”
“Sure. Yes. Yeah.” She was trying to convince herself more than anything and she knew it. “No one cares about that man, anyway. It’s just Rayan’s day..” The baby smiled as if he knew what they were talking about, and the women fussed over him a bit more. When the familiar weight pressed itself against her shoulders, She sighed. “I need a drink.”
“Go raid Trent’s cabinet, girl. You know he’s not shy about Don Julio,” her friend joked about her husband.
There was a painful twang in her chest at once. Her husband. Her friend was joking about her husband. A man who she shared a child, a home, and a life with.
She could taste iron. She would later realize that she had bit the inside of her cheek open. For now, she chopped the stinging sensation up to the of moths fumbling about in her stomach.
Her friend took her Godson and she was left alone once more. She laid her head on the linen pillow and stared blankly at the room before her. Wistfully, she imagined Amelie and Trent embracing each other at the end of the very long day. She imagined them nuzzling against the other as they gazed down at their sleeping baby boy. Then, she imagined everything that could have been.
She fell into a slumber with remnants of saline tears on her cheeks, and she woke up days later wearing a crisp white blouse and her best earrings. Rayan’s baptism.
He barely left his mother’s arms that day. He was tiny and it was a big day for him and he was wearing a long, pristine white dress that used to be his grandfather’s when he was that small. So Rayan slept, and she tried not to kick open the church doors and run as far as her legs could take her.
She knew he was in the room. She could feel it. If she opened her mouth to speak, she could taste it. If she inhaled too deeply, she could smell it. His presence was the sustenance that her soul had been missing for far too long and she was being punished for it. Her hands were shaking. She slipped off to the bathroom three times before she realized that her issues could affect the day. Being unreliable or looking flaky was the last thing she’d wanted to do after making it so far through the day. When she sat back down in the pews, she crossed her hands extra tight in her lap and kept her neck arched high. She would shake it off. This was for Rayan.
After some time she stood with her friends and made her way to the front of the church. She could feel him behind her. Then beside her. She willed herself not to look at him and focused solely on swearing to remain a key figure in the baby’s life.
For you, I’ll do my best.
He made his pledges after her. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. He was so close to her. She could feel the echo of his baritone in her feet. She could taste iron, far more pronounced this time.
The baby was placed in her arms, and the metallic flavor dissipated at once. She secured her arm around his head and tugged his gown down. He whined, only to stop a second later when his mother kissed his hand.
The priest asked the Godparents to move closer. She stepped forward and nodded when appropriate. The priest said something that she didn’t really catch. She had been too busy making sure Rayan was comfortable. Brown hands came forward and untied the loose strings around the baby’s neck. He pulled the baby’s hat off. She could hear the ocean in her head.
She leaned forward and lowered her elbow an inch. The priest placed his hands in the tub of water before him and her. He poured water on the baby’s dark tufts of hair. One hand, then two, then another for good measure. Rayan let out a short cry from the temperature of the water.
“It’s okay, honey, you did great,” she whispered to her Godson when it was all over. She held him tighter, closer to her face.
“Maybe he’s cold,” the familiar voice said. “Here, let me put his hat back on.” Brown hands came into view and she watched him make the loose loop-the-loop. Rayan calmed down.
Rayan’s parents came and uttered softly to their son. His mother fought tears. His father let them glide down his cheeks freely, rubbing the top of the baby’s bonnet with a thumb.
“Hey,” the Godfather’s low voice was saying. He was not whispering. Anyone could have heard him. Though, when she thinks back on the moment, she can remember the soft, whispering tickle of his breath hitting her ear. She wanted him to be whispering.
She greeted him back weakly and she did not try to hide it. With everyone focused on Rayan, the awkward encounter would just be their own and she could not muster the strength to make it anything but.
The corner of his mouth quirked up, weakly too, and he said, “You look really nice.”
All at once, she could hear the ocean. She could hear volcanoes erupting. She could feel the familiar sharp chill of ice, and she could smell the smoke of paper burning.
She could not remember what her response was, or if she even responded at all. She could only remember the pain of living without the only man she had loved for months after being together for so long.
Through the fog, a voice prompted, “Let’s get a pic with the Godparents.”
She craned her head and found herself staring at a man that she had gone to school with. Kareem was known for being tall, charismatic, and a photographer. Therefore, she was not surprised that her friend had invited him to the gathering. Though she wished that someone would have filled him in on the current situation before he suggested such things.
Rayan’s parents moved away. She took a half step closer to Rayan’s Godfather. Rayan’s Godfather took a half step closer to her.
For the first time in months, they were pressed against each other.
Her chest felt hollow. Icy. It burned to inhale. It took too much effort to exhale. She lifted the baby so that he was perfectly between them. A brown hand fixed the baby’s dress. Fingertips grazed fingertips. She could taste iron pooling just behind her teeth, and then she smiled.
Her first tear fell when the camera shuttered for the last time. The people were emotional, too. They spoke to the baby in whispers. The Godfather left her side to go gawk at his Godson.
It was only her in the center of that stage. She was alone. There was no one in her corner anymore.
She had no husband. No new baby to baptize. No boyfriend to envision her future with.
She felt as if she was going to drown. She sucked in a burning breath.
She tasted the iron.
#jude bellingham x black reader#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham x oc#jude bellingham x you#x black fem reader#x black reader#trent alexander arnold x black reader#trent alexander arnold#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine
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Congrats Bella!!!
From one mama to another - what are your headcannons for Matt and Frank with a pregnant partner and how do they adjust to fatherhood (again in Frank’s circumstance)?
Thank you!! 💕And ohhh boy, do I have THOUGHTS on this topic for Matt and Frank in particular. Some of the thoughts about Matt you'll see bits of in Seeking Forgiveness and even more in future installments of FFTD (like way later for that series), and the ones for Frank I've wanted to include in a possible second part to You're Body is Not a Graveyard or something else entirely because there is a lot that can be discussed. Of course, I'll put everything below the cut (and y'all can keep sending things in from my celebration post here).
Matt Murdock Adjusting to Fatherhood
From the very beginning, right after initially finding out you were pregnant, Matt would absolutely be internally beating himself up. That man would be thinking he's going to fail as a father right from the start because despite all Matt's cocky confidence, he's got a lot of self-loathing and insecurities going on under the surface. And if you were having a boy? You can guarantee that comment about the Murdock boys having the Devil in them would be in his head constantly.
But despite that, the very first moment he hears the baby's heartbeat would bring him to his knees. That rapid, fluttering sound would become one of his favorites instantly. Because despite his fear of failing you and baby, knowing that child was his would have him feeling a love he's never experienced before. Especially with how much and how long he has been feeling alone in the world after his father's passing, knowing that baby was his family would be a very big deal to Matt and would often leave him indescribably emotional.
With his heightened senses, Matt would become bonded to baby quicker than most fathers generally are before birth. He would always be checking in on baby's heartbeat, zeroing in on the sound of baby's movements as they grew bigger, and even the way he'd be feeling their movements over your stomach would be an entirely different experience for him with his sense of touch. You'd definitely catch him occasionally grinning to himself in the apartment or while you were out because of something he was listening to baby doing.
When it came time for baby to be born, the man would be in a panic getting you to the hospital. It would be almost comical to see, making it seem like he was the one about to give birth with how he was acting. But really? He would be hearing every painful contraction you were suffering through with his senses, suffering through each one with you in his own way because he hated seeing you in pain and not being able to help. He'd be having a hard time trying to keep himself in check in the hospital while you gave birth, his senses making the entire experience terrifying for him, but he'd do his best to be there for you.
Once baby was born, Matt would be all about the skin to skin. He would shed his shirt and want to hold the baby as soon as you'd give him the chance. And that newborn smell? With his nose it would be something even more amazing to Matt–a very big dopamine hit for him.
Back home, he would do his best to help out with baby despite feeling like he was in over his head. But he would quickly realize he was amazing at anticipating what baby needed with his heightened senses, knowing when they were hungry or tired or needed a diaper usually right before they even started to cry.
But Matt would still be going out as Daredevil in the evenings. Despite his fear of leaving his own child fatherless through his actions (like his own father), it still wouldn't be something he could give up. Though he'd do his best to compromise with you about it all. But admittedly, he'd always have a part of himself distracted, keeping an ear out for anything going on back home. Because as much as he loves Hell's Kitchen, his own child would ultimately come first.
Frank Castle Adjusting to Fatherhood for a Second Time
Frank would initially have a hard time discussing starting a family with you after everything he'd been through with losing the family he thought he'd always have. But deep down, he'd ultimately know that's what he wanted with you. Not a do-over or a replacement family, but a chance at being happy again, of feeling that love he once felt instead of the empty, hollow space in his chest.
Finding out you were pregnant would be a mix of emotions for him. He'd be crying on the bedroom floor with you when you brought him that positive pregnancy test. Tears of joy at the new life already growing within you, but also tears of a deep, indescribable grief at the memory of the first time Maria had told him the very same thing.
He would attend every OB appointment you asked him to come to. Every ultrasound he would be right there holding your hand, fighting tears as he watched his baby's movements up on the screen. And every time he heard the baby's heartbeat when they checked would be like the first time all over again, a wave of relief crashing over him to hear that sound and to know everything was okay. Because deep down he'd always be terrified of another loss.
Frank would be going out of his way for you during your pregnancy. You're craving a cheeseburger or cookie dough ice cream at midnight? You can guarantee he'd be out the door getting it for you. Your feet are sore or swollen or your back was killing you? He'd be demanding you sit down, kick your feet up, and let him give you a massage. You're throwing up because of horrible morning sickness? He'd be right there holding your hair back without a word, bringing you your toothbrush and some mouthwash afterwards.
But that doesn't mean you wouldn't find Frank occasionally sitting outside in the backyard or on the edge of your bed alone and crying. Mourning the loss of Lisa and Frank Jr. along with Maria. Because the pain of that would never leave him, something you'd long since understood. There would certainly be times you'd be the one silently offering him comfort while he struggled with his grief being painfully brought back to the surface during the entire experience.
On lazy days and late nights, you'd be sitting with Frank, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling as you listened to him talk to your growing bump. His large hand would be affectionately resting atop it, and if baby managed to hit or kick him? He'd chuckle and happily accept the interruption.
When it came time for you to give birth, you can absolutely believe that man on the outside would look completely calm and in charge. He'd have the hospital bags packed and in hand while guiding you to the car. He'd stay awake with you through labor, no matter how many hours it lasted, and getting you whatever you needed. He'd be there calmly talking to you and doing what he could to ease your mind. But internally? He'd be panicking. Terrified of something going wrong, afraid God or someone would punish him for the things he's done and take both of you away from him in one fell swoop. And if that happened, he'd believe he deserved it, too.
But once baby was born and he was assured that you were both perfectly safe and healthy, he'd be pulling off his shirt and accepting his newborn from your arms. And he would be a hysterical, bawling mess as he held that tiny baby in his big arms. Whenever he could finally get the tears to lessen, you'd be hearing him promise that baby a million things with the biggest, watery smile on his face.
Despite Frank still having quiet moments of grief that you'd catch him trying to hide from you, moments where he'd be mentally reliving experiences from his past that still hurt him, he would be present for absolutely everything with you and baby. Diaper blowouts, late night runs to the store for formula, burping baby over his shoulder and being entirely unfazed by baby spitting up all over himself. Every cry in the middle of the night would wake him and he'd be right there, doing whatever needed to be done without a single word of complaint no matter how exhausted he was.
Frank would internally have long since made a vow to protect both you and baby no matter what, and he'd take that vow very seriously. But he'd also vow to never miss or not appreciate a single moment this time around--a smile, a first word, first steps. He'd be there for it all. And you'd certainly never catch him miss an opportunity to read them a bed time story to sleep every single night.
I could certainly go on with way more, but then this post would be massive 😅 These are just a few of my thoughts about these two as fathers!
#bellas 2.5k follower celebration#matt murdock headcanons#frank castle headcanons#adjusting to fatherhood#matt murdock x reader#frank castle x reader#matt murdock#frank castle
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Icarus Part 9
Hello and welcome back to this wonderful fic! Like I've said before having a set schedule for each story got hard and I've resorted to posting on vibes alone.
This week's vibes are all over the place because of the pain in my elbow. It's getting better but it's taking every ounce of self-control and self-preservation I have not write as many words a day as I can to make up for lost time and slowly work my way back up to my old schedule so I don't re-injure it.
But as I've said, if you want to see a specific work more often, drop me an ask and I'll see what I can do.
Here we have Eddie being a sweetheart and Steve and his friends being dorks.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
****
NDAs were such a large part of Steve’s life he couldn’t remember a time he didn’t have them. For everything.
Even producers had to sign them before they could even breathe in the direction of The Fallen in the recording studio.
It was an exhausting but necessary part of his life. Just like the locked room in his apartment.
Shane and Spence had done an amazing job with Steve’s little notebook of song material. And shocker, only two of them were love songs. Most of the rest of the songs were about trying to survive in a world you had to hide.
He knew that a lot of critics would tell them to lose the masks if it bothered them so much, but at this point Steve didn’t care. They were working on their third album in three years and he was fucking tired.
“Again, from the top,” the producer said into the com. “Abbadon you got a little pitchy on the second line. Watch it. Astraeus, you’re coming in too early. It’s duh-ba-ba-dun and then you come in. You’re coming in on the first ba.”
Steve and Shane nodded and they began again.
Steve’s brain thought it was going to melt out of his ears. He had a test for his certification after today’s session in the studio and he was sure all the information would have leaked out by then.
But apparently Steve’s brain went on autopilot taking the test, and not only did he pass, he passed with full marks.
Spence clapped Steve shoulder. “Hey, man if this whole rockstar gig ever falls apart, you should come be an EMT with me.”
Steve grinned back. That wasn’t a bad idea actually. With his lifeguard training and his affinity for thinking well under pressure, it really was the ideal job.
“I might just take you up on that.”
They broke up for the day and as Steve was putting away his guitar his phone rang.
“Hey, Eds,” he greeted.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie replied. “How did your test go?”
“I aced it!” Steve said, bouncing on the tips of his toes in excitement.
“What?” Eddie cried. “Baby, that’s so amazing! We’ll definitely go out tonight and celebrate. But that’s not the reason I’m calling.”
“Oh?” Steve asked.
“How far are you guys into the album?” Eddie asked, hesitantly.
Steve frowned for a moment. He looked over at Spence and Hopper. They had all had a really rough session today and it had become almost grueling in a way that the other two albums never felt.
“Not as far as we’d like,” Steve admitted. If anyone knew what they were going through it was Eddie.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Eddie commiserated. “Would it be better to continue at it or take break touring?”
Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. It would be nice to actually take time with the album and not push it out as quickly as possible.
“A break for sure,” Steve murmured. “We’re on our third album in three years, and even though we just got back from a tour, it was less exhausting than being in the studio right now.”
Eddie was silent for a moment. “Have you thought about changing the studio you’re working in? Sometimes a change of scenery can help.”
“I guess we could try,” Steve muttered. “I just didn’t think we had that kind of pull with the record label yet. I’ll call Robin later and see what she can do.”
Eddie hummed in agreement. “So the reason I was asking, babe, is that they have given us a choice of two sets of dates. One that would start at the beginning of the new year and one that would start next summer. And since we’re taking you with us, our management is going to coordinate with yours.”
“Oh.”
Steve wasn’t sure which he would prefer, if he was being honest. “Can I talk to my boys and get back to you on that?”
“Sure thing, Stevie,” Eddie said fondly. “You can tell all about what you guys decided when we meet up for drinks tonight, how does that sound?”
Steve let out a little sigh of relief. “Yeah, that sounds great, Eds. Text me the details.”
“You’ve got it!” Eddie said and then they both said their goodbyes and hang up.
More work, Steve thought mournfully. He didn’t want more work. He was tired and miserable and he should have been happy. The record was liking the album so far, they were about to go on tour with the biggest metal band in the world, he was dating Eddie. Why wasn’t he happy?
He put his head in his hands and forced himself to breathe. He knew that a lot of what he was feeling was being forced to wait when he didn’t want to.
That even if he was out as Abbadon, he couldn’t be out with Eddie. Both of their labels would have literal bitch fits. They could be out to their friends, but as far as the media went, that was off limits. Being bisexual or gay was better now, but it could still tank their careers if they came out with actual same sex partners. Steve’s career especially, new as it was.
Steve let out a low shuddering breath. This whole masked identities shit was tough. He didn’t know how those other bands could handle it. Maybe the difference was that their families knew. He honestly didn’t know.
But he had chosen to walk down this road. When they first started playing and getting turned away by how they looked, they chose to not change themselves, but to become someone else. And it worked and he really couldn’t argue with the results.
Steve loved his job. He loved that he got be in a band with his best friends and that his platonic soulmate was their manager. He loved getting out there on stage and singing his heart out. But it was hard sometimes.
He pulled out his phone and called Robin. “Hey, what are the label’s requirement on getting this album done? Like does it have to be at this studio with this producer?”
“One sec,” Robin said, pulling it up on her computer. She scanned the document complete with searching for key words. “Doesn’t look like it. Why? What’s up?”
“You know how we’ve hit a wall in the studio?” Steve asked around chewing on his thumb.
She scoffed. Of course she knew. “And you’re thinking a change of venue might help or at the very least a new producer?”
“Yeah...” Steve said. “Eddie suggested it, but I wasn’t sure if we had that kind of clout with the record label.”
Robin was quiet on the line, but Steve could feel the cogs in her head turn. “I’ll get on it.”
“Thanks,” he said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Did Eddie’s label send over the tour dates?”
“Let’s see...” she hummed. “Yup! I’m reading through them... and I’m guessing you to talk with everyone before making a final decision?”
“Right in one,” Steve said. “Preferably with whether or not we get someone else in to produce.”
“You’ve got it, babe,” she said. “Does this have a deadline?”
“Eddie said he would like to know by tonight,” he said, “but I can tell him we’re still working things out and that’s we’ll get back to him.”
“That would be ideal, yes.”
Steve huffed out a laugh. “I’ll still talk to the boys and at least get a feel for what they’re thinking even if we can’t shift producers or studio.”
“Sounds good,” Robin said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I learn anything.”
He hung up and pulled up the group chat and messaged his friends to meet at his place. He had stuff he wanted to talk with them regarding upcoming tour dates.
Simon and Shane texted back immediately. Spence had left them on read for about fifteen minutes before responding with a question about how long they would be.
And then the ribbing began.
-Oohh...you with that girl?- Shane
-He totally is!!- Simon
-Pics or it didn’t happen- Steve
-Pics!- Simon
-Yeah, man, is she cute?- Shane
-Why do you care, Shane? You’re gay- Spence
-Because like a flower I can appreciate the feminine form, even if I don’t want to fuck it- Shane
Pic comes in of Spence on his couch with a gorgeous dark-skinned woman with soulful eyes and long black hair.
-Meet Nadia
-Lucky guy!- Simon
-That’s quite the flower :P- Shane
-Yeahhh...I’m sorry, man, as much as I would like to let you stay with your lady love, we really need to talk. Business. :(
-I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. -Spence
-lol! You keep telling yourself that and maybe one day I’ll believe you- Shane
-GASP! Spence doesn’t love us! :’(- Simon
-Damn it. Fine I love you all- Spence
-Simon uses sad emoji against Spence, it’s super effective! (pokeball emoji)- Steve
-Meet at my place as soon as you can- Steve
There was the usual chorus of affirmative responses and Steve set down his phone.
He looked up at the ceiling as he huffed out a sigh. His friends were on the way, Robin was trying to fix the problem with them hitting a brick wall making their album, and Eddie was supportive.
It helped that Spence was dating now, too. They could commiserate about their love lives.
Simon hated that while he could get girls as Asmodeus but not as himself he swore off dating until he found someone who liked him for him and not just because he was a rock god.
Shane just liked having fun. Wherever that took him. Usually gay bars with lots of booze and dancing.
They weren’t “rich and famous” enough for the wild parties and shit. At least not yet. They were getting a lot traction with their second major album though so that was probably going to change fast.
Steve just glad that he would have Eddie and Robin holding his hand though this.
He looked over at the contract on his table and sighed. Like Spence, he really did love his job. And he knew that there were hundreds of bands wishing to be in his shoes.
He could do this.
He was, after all Abbadon, lead singer of The Fallen and he knew how to do this shit.
****
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#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#rockstar steve harrington#rockstar eddie munson#rockstar au
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i bet on losing dogs / alastor !
IN WHICH what's been boiling for quite some time finally boils over when Alastor tends to a wound of yours.
⤷ no usage of y/n, fem!reader, heavy angst, mentions of violence, blood and slight gore mentions, mentioned valentino, hurt no comfort, established relationships, implications of sexual assault + harassment, slightly unhealthy relationship portrayal? , drabble
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
Shaking like a leaf, you sit uncomfortably on the soft cushioned chaise with your arm propped up on a towel over the arm of the chair. It feels as if your skin is cold to the touch, nothing but a metallic taste filling the capacity of your mouth and a barbed wire sensation slithering like a snake around and through your ribcage that will surely be bruised come morning. Your eyes can only stare at the gash in your arm you stupidly tried to use to defend yourself from the toss of a chair, it’s split open to expose tendons and flesh. Crimson stains, the towel doubled, the faint sound of jazz filling your head that throbs like a poor sap who’s had too much to drink and had an early shift at a jackhammer and siren museum. When you hear soft footsteps, you look up and your eyes look to Alastor.
His coat is discarded, in his hands a first aid kit of a bright red and old plastic case, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose the dark ombre that crawls up his scarred thin limbs. You swallow thickly, mostly to swallow away the taste and to swallow the lump developing in your throat, and you sit up a bit with a quick brush away of your tears. “This shouldn’t be too painful, my dear.” There’s a pensiveness in his radio-filtered voice, the same can be found above that soft grin and in those crimson eyes. You nod gently, you don’t feel like speaking at the moment. Not with your lungs burning and everything aching.
Alastor’s clawed hands are gentle as he sits close to you, his legs on either side of your left leg. Taking your arm a bit closer to the edge of the armrest, he exhales softly through his upturned nose and begins to clean the blood first and foremost. Through this he is quiet, you are quiet with the simple thought of how you’re meant to do your job tomorrow. It’s only when Alastor begins to weave a thread through a needle does he speak. “This is precisely why you should allow me to deal with that wretched moth.”,he bluntly remarks with a more neutral expression not giving off what is in his head or empty space his soul once lied. An exasperated sigh leaves your lips immediately and you lift a hand to rub at your eyes smudged in mascara.
“Alastor, I don’t want to talk about this again.”,you speak a bit stiff while turning your face away from him. There’s a sting when he pushes the needle in, you grit your teeth but breathe in a labored manner while bunching up your fist against your forehead. “I was the one stupid enough to sign myself to Valentino of all people, this is my mess to clean with him. I’d rather you not have another target on your back.” Alastor is easy, his movements are fluid and smooth in stitching the wound for you with a gentle touch to rival his cruel and sadistic nature. When your eyes flutter open to admire the phone beside the chaise, he continues.
“Such silly nonsense, my dear, as if I couldn’t handle that thing.”,exhales Alastor sharply with a gentle shake of his head. You roll your eyes and your jaw tightens as he finishes off the stitching with ease and caution. There’s a bitterness beneath that filter, an annoyance twitching at those thin brows. “This isn’t a way to treat one’s employees. I’m tired of seeing you being used like a doll at his expense, you come home injured more often than not. And what of when you’re no longer of use to him, my dear?” And you’re not entirely sure why but something crawls up your throat like a spider rushing from the hand of a human. Something desperate and once hidden within you that’s perhaps been steadily climbing up.
It comes from your mouth after a soft scoff. “Well what do you do to those that become no longer useful to you?” Your voice is sharp, it’s full of so much bitterness it could kill any plants in the vicinity. The Radio Demon stops in wrapping your arm in the white bandage and you stare at him as he stares at you. There’s a heavy silence, presumably one where he’s attempting to recall if he heard you correctly. While you could take the chance to shift the topic, to avoid another argument fueled by the bastard you hate, you don’t. Instead, you shake your head and you tilt it with a bitter smile. “Well? When you’re done with your toys, what is it that you do with them, Alastor? Maybe I could give Valentino some ideas.”
His lips part, those ears twitch amongst his dark antlers. Alastor blinks and his smile tightens like a band is pulling at the corners of his lips. “I am not him, my dear. I don’t conduct my business in the depraved as he seems to enjoy doing.”,reasons the man you’ve known since you first arrived in this humid and trash-filled pit of damnation. He continues to bandage your arm, his eyes widening when you snatch your arm away so quickly it makes you wince. But you stand your ground and you shake your head, eyes narrowing at Alastor with your arm to your chest by your other shaking hand.
“What makes you two different?”,you ask breathlessly,”Because you don’t rape your dolls? You don’t grope them or touch them without their permission?” Alastor stands quickly when you do, he’s tall and thin with broad shoulders and draped in red. Towering over you but not like Valentino does. It isn’t meant to intimidate but simply meant to display his confidence, borderline arrogance. You hold his gaze on jelly knees, swallowing hard with that stinging sensation returning to your eyes. “You do realize just because you don’t inappropriately touch your pets doesn’t mean you don’t still treat them like animals, yes?”
Alastor’s crimson eyes flutter, he blinks and he lets out a hearty laugh that lacks a single droplet of humor or amusement. “You think he and I are of the same make?”,asks Alastor while folding his arms behind his back and shaking his head gently.
“You’re both Overlords.”,you sharply shoot back. Your chest heaves with breathing that’s grown heavier than you’ve realized. “You are amongst the most powerful of Overlords, Alastor. Your power comes from the souls you take, people like me who weren’t lucky enough to wake up here with power to keep themselves safe from the damnation we’ve been tossed to.” Your brows twitch and tears spill from your eyes to roll down your cheeks and connect beneath your jaw, you wipe them quickly with a sniffle. Alastor steps closer with a smiling expression you’re unable to pinpoint. Then again when can you read his face?
“My dear this is simply–”
“Tell me you wouldn’t have taken my soul in exchange for something if you had the chance?”,you interrupt him with wide and glassy eyes while stepping closer to him. Alastor’s crimson gaze trains on you and his smile shuts. You nod gently with an aching chest, that lump in your throat growing more suffocating by the moment. “If you hadn’t met me in that café, if I hadn’t recognized you as the radio star Alastor, if I had been another demon amongst so many…tell me you wouldn’t have tried to take possession of my soul in my most vulnerable of states…” Your voice softens, it cracks like porcelain and some unfair part of you wants Alastor to disagree. To argue and dispute what you’ve spent so long ignoring about him despite his reputation and despite the way he’s become the prolific demon he is in Hell.
But Alastor doesn’t lie. He manipulates but he doesn’t lie. Especially to you. “I cannot.”,he replies with a firm nod.
And you nod stiffly. You inhale shakily and you hold your unfinished aid to your chest by your elbow. Sniffling and quickly wiping your tears off onto your shoulders, you hold Alastor’s crimson gaze. “You’re an Overlord, Alastor. No matter your refusal of the title and your refusal to associate yourself with the Vees – especially Valentino – you’re just another card in a deck of the worst this ring of Hell.” Your voice is calm, quiet, soft, and for a rarity you can see the expression shift in Alastor’s eyes. It isn’t shame or guilt, it isn't an apology but it’s something else. Something you’re not quite sure of. But definitely something you don’t want to entertain. “I can’t be here right now.”
You walk past him only five steps. “My dear.” You stop slowly, heels no longer clicking against the polished hardwood floors of his home. His footsteps approach behind you and you turn around to see a safety pin between his red claws. Wordlessly, he takes your arm with a gentle touch and he finishes wrapping the white bandage around your aided wound. As he pushes in the pin, he clears his throat. “Perhaps I am no different than the other’s that fall beneath my category, my dear but I don’t believe it matters.” Your brows furrow in annoyance and you scoff, Alastor gently holds your arm by the topside of your forearm with the inner part facing up. “It shouldn’t matter, not to you because you’re aware I would never do this to you.”
When Alastor lifts your forearm, he presses a gentle kiss to the bandages and your eyes flutter shut. In one last stitch effort to stand your ground against the hypocritical man who admitted you’d be another toy had circumstances been different – you shake your head. “Should I be so grateful for the bare minimum?”,you ask. But Alastor chuckles, he grins that charming smile and your brows twitch upwards as your hand balls at your side. Begrudgingly, reluctantly, you follow his pull of your arm into an embrace. Sniffling, you let him embrace you tightly. His hugs are always tight, a soft squeak always emitting off of him. “You’re such a monster…”,you breathe against his shoulder, resolved to let him win yet another argument.
“But not to you, my dear.”
You swallow hard and nod gently. “I know.”
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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 42]
Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy
Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho
Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?
Word count: 3.3K
"We're going down to the beach, jagiya. Wanna come with?" Wooyoung poked his head into your room.
"I just laid down after unpacking. Go ahead, I'll join in a bit." You groaned, waving him off. He scurried over to give you a kiss on the cheek before leaving.
"Psst, baby." Yunho came in after Wooyoung left. You said something, muffled by the blanket that you face was squished against. You heard him laugh and his feet padding over. Then all of a sudden, you felt his weight on you as he laid his body over yours.
"Ack! Yunho!" You turned your head to protest.
"Hi, my love." He flipped you over to face him and hovered over you. He grinned and showered you in kisses.
"Mmm! Okay, enough. Down, puppy!" You yelled, trying to stop his attack on you but that wasn't going to deter him. He just attacked your even more.
"Why didn't you want to go to the beach with the others?" He yelled, wrapping his arms around your waist, dropping beside you.
"Tired from unpacking. I might take a short nap before going." You yawned, turning to face him.
"We should be sharing a room. You know I'll still come over to sleep here anyway. Why don't you want to share a room with me?" He whined, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.
"Well, sometimes I might want to room with Hwa or Woo too. You have to be fair, Yun." You squished his cheeks in your hands, making him lips pucker. It was so cute that you giggled, leaning forward to press your lips against his. But Yunho had other plans, hand coming to hold your head in place so he could kiss you longer.
"Can't breathe!" You smacked his shoulder to let you go. He just had a big grin on his face.
"I am being fair. I'm your boyfriend so naturally, I room with you. Simple as that." He pointed out. You rolled your eyes, slinging an arm over his shoulders.
"Come on. You hardly spend time with Mingi too ever since we started dating. He was excited to room with you." You said.
"I doubt it. And we've been spending our whole lives together, he's fine." Yunho scoffed.
"I'm going to nap." You turned to reach for your phone on the nightstand and set an alarm. You did still want to hang at the beach for a while so you definitely didn't want to oversleep.
"Sleep then, love. This vacation is also for you to relax and get some rest." Yunho stroked your hair, kissing your forehead.
"You too, Yun... You've been putting in so much time and effort to running the restaurant so this will be a break for you too, hmm?" You looked up at him, fingers brushing against his chin. He nodded and tightened his hold around you.
"Baby, wake up~ We gonna go to the beach remember?" Yunho sang, kissing your cheek multiple times. You scowled, elbowing him in the ribs to make him go away.
"I forgot what Seonghwa hyung said about trying to wake you..." He groaned in pain.
"Come on, love. You'll regret it if you don't go. The boys are already there." Yunho was relentless, holding a pillow in front of his face now.
"Buh me beech wi sil pee der." You mumbled.
"My sweet love, I have no idea what you're saying right now." Yunho giggled, pressing his face into the side of your face, giving you another kiss on the cheek.
"There, there, up we go!" He enthusiastically lifted you to sit up, cooing at you as if you were a baby while brushing the hair away from your face.
You let out a long sigh and opened your eyes, shooting Yunho the stink eye. He just smiled smugly and hugged you to his chest. Groaning and whining, you slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, grabbing your bathing suit on the way. You tied your hair into a bun and put on sunscreen.
"Alright. Done." You emerged from the bathroom. Yunho was not expecting you to be in your bathing suit with his shirt as a cover.
"I-Is that my shirt?" He blinked, feeling his cheeks heat up and his ears turn red.
"Uh, yeah. It's one of the one you left at mine. Is it okay if I borrow it? It's the perfect length to cover the bathing suit, you and your long torso." You chuckled.
"I'm more than fine with it. You look great in my clothes, wear it more often." He put his hands on your hips.
"Sure." You laughed at how silly he was, tip toeing to give him a kiss.
"Go change, I'll meet you downstairs." You said. Yunho nodded and went to his room. You went to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of sodas and bags of snacks to eat.
"I'm ready! Let's go swim!" Yunho marched up the stairs from his shared bedroom with Mingi. You figured that they probably took one of the basement rooms. He carried the drinks for you so you could grab your things with a towel tucked under your arm.
"Look who woke up the sleeping bear." Seonghwa ran over to you, seeing you and Yunho walk over to the shore front from the deck.
"Did you just call me a bear?" You scoffed.
"Thought we wouldn't see you for the rest of the day." Mingi chuckled, patting your shoulder. You punched his arm and went to sit with Hongjoong under the beach umbrella.
"Ocean not your thing?" You asked, opening on of the soda bottles and taking a gulp.
"When all Mingi and San want to do is drown each other, then Wooyoung and Jongho join in on that... It's not fun." He scoffed.
"Their chaos knows no end." You shook your head. Speaking of, you watched how Wooyoung tackled Yunho to the sand and Jongho helped by stacking himself on top.
"PUPPY PILE!" San yelled and the rest all stacked on top, making you and Hongjoong wince.
"Yah! Be careful! I still need an intact boyfriend at the end of the day!" You yelled but of course they ignored you, continuing to squish your tall boyfriend into the sand. All you could do was watch and hear Yunho's yells of defeat and the others' yells of victory echo throughout the whole beach.
"(y/n)! Save me!" Yunho called out.
"Looks like you've got it under control, Yun!" You yelled back, raising your drink to him. Eventually, they did let Yunho come up but he stormed over to you.
"How did I have it under control?! I was suffocating and dying! Nice to know you have my back!" Yunho frowned.
"Sorry, Yun. There was no way I could stop them. They would just stack on top of me too." You shrugged, shaking your head.
"Don't pout." You patted his cheek, holding up the bottle of soda you brought for him as some sort of peace offering. Yunho did take it but set it down without drinking, confusing you.
"Yunho!" You squealed as he suddenly lifted you up bridal style. You scrambled to wrap your arms around his neck.
"Jeong Yunho! You overgrown golden retriever! Put me down now!" You scolded, watching as he headed towards to the water.
"The water is looking nice and cooling, isn't it, love?" Yunho smirked as he stood in the water that brushed against his knees. You continued to yell for your friends to help you, clutching onto Yunho like a scared cat.
"Remember cats don't like water, Yunho!" Seonghwa yelled from where he was standing, just watching this go down. You shot him a glare, that wasn't very helpful.
"Yunho, you'll regret this." You threatened.
"You're so cute when you try to be fierce, love. But remember, you asked for this." He chuckled.
"How did I ask for this?! I offered you a soda! I seriously encourage you to reconsider this, Yunho!" You squealed. He seemed to contemplate it for a second and you were relieved.
Until he dropped you. But your tight grip on his neck didn't relent, ending up with him being dragged down as well.
"Ah~ It's cold!" You splashed the water at Yunho, a dramatic frown and pout on your face while he laughed.
"Park Seonghwa!" You got up and ran over to your best friend.
"Oh no, you're not!" Seonghwa ran away, knowing what you were going to do. Luckily this time, Jongho and Wooyoung helped you, stopping Seonghwa and holding him in place. You plastered your wet self to him, hugging him tightly. He howled at the feeling of the cold wetness seeping into his skin.
"You!" Seonghwa's face looked like the red-faced angry emoji and you ran to get a headstart, turning to see him chase you angrily. You laughed out loud as you ran.
"Ack!" You saw Yunho doing to same to Mingi, hugging him with his best friend with wet clothes too.
"Got you!" Seeing how you were momentarily distracted by Yunho and Mingi, Seonghwa tackled you into the sand.
"Yeah! Panné her like a pork cutlet!" Wooyoung cheered Seonghwa on. The both of you burst out laughing, of course all of you would use food analogies to egg each other on.
"Choi San! Kang Yeosang! Put me down!" The both of you watched Yeosang and San carry Hongjoong to the water.
"No!" His sunglasses were slipping down his face as he squirmed but the two were the strongest in the group, he wouldn't be able to fight them off.
"Yah! I'm your hyung!" Hongjoong panicked, his voice going an octave higher.
"Bye, hyung!" On the count of 3, the two men flung Hongjoong's body into the water like he weighed nothing, quickly fleeing the scene before Hongjoong could recover. You and Seonghwa sat beside each other, laughing so hard your stomachs hurt.
"I'm hungry." Seonghwa stated.
"You're always hungry." You snorted, making him shove your shoulder. But you did get up with him, going to the umbrella where your things were to find snacks.
"Oh, Yunho says the kitchen is empty so we have to go get food at the nearby supermarket for meals and all that." You informed.
"Sure. Wanna wash off and go now?" Seonghwa asked, emptying the small bag of pretzels into his mouth.
"Okay." You grabbed your things and stood up to rinse off so you wouldn't bring sand into the house and your room. You went back to the house with Seonghwa and separated to shower.
'Going with Hwa to buy groceries for the house. I'll see you later. Love you! - (y/n)'
You sent Yunho a text as you jumped into one of the vans with Seonghwa. He plugged his phone in to play music while you drove.
"This should be it. Let's see what they have and get food for the meals. We can always come back for fresh vegetables instead of buy them to store." You said, parking the van. Seonghwa hummed and you walked to the store together. He pushed the cart while you looked at the produce.
"We should get the staples first." He adviced. You got salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, red pepper paste, bean paste, zucchinis, garlic, onions, a few types of kimchi, peppers and tofu.
"We'll do barbecue for one of the night's right?" You asked. He nodded and you went to the meat counter to order from the butcher.
"Hwa, there's something I need to discuss with you. I've talked to Jongho about this-"
"It's about our contracts almost finishing, right?" He cut you off with a small, knowing smile as he leaned against the cart while you both waited for the butcher.
"Yeah..." You nodded slowly.
"I figured, considering we are celebrating a year since the restaurant opened, it also means our contracts are expiring." He shrugged.
"Right... Do you have a plan or inkling of what your decision is? And when I say your plan, I mean, regardless of what my plan is and what I plan to do." You quickly clarified. Seonghwa threw his head back with laughter at your words.
"You always feel guilty when we say we'll stick with you." Seonghwa chuckled, patting your head.
"Because right now, I don't know what I want to do or what I should do. By now, I would have moved on to another restaurant. But I also didn't think I would be dating the owner." You sighed.
"Whether you stay on or not, it wouldn't change your relationship with Yunho, you know that." He said.
"Yeah, that's what Jongho said. But... I don't know..."
"But you like change, that's why you go to different restaurants after your contracts end." Seonghwa pointed out. You thanked the butcher and put the meat in the cart.
"But Yunho's one of the things that I want to keep constant. I don't want change in that aspect." You shrugged.
"Ah, I don't know. I know Yunho would want me to do what's best for my career but... there's this underlying... I don't even know what it is... guilt?" You groaned in frustration while Seonghwa put soy sauce in the cart. He reached out to hold your hand, squeezing it reassuringly, a soft smile on his face.
"I'll stick with you. No matter where you go. And no, that's not to burden you or to make you think about my 'future' as a chef. I'm supporting you." He leaned down to tell you.
"You're just like Jongho. You all have such amazing skills that will get you places, you shouldn't have to stick with me." You said.
"But we want to stick with you. It's how we've learnt and picked up these skills." Seonghwa shrugged.
"And that's another same thing Jongho said to me." You laughed, grabbing some random snacks, especially a few bags of Yunho's favourite potato chips.
"There they are!" The two of you turned to see Wooyoung standing at the end of the aisle, pointing at the two of you.
"(y/n)!" Yunho had the brightest smile on his face, running over to you excited.
"Y-Yun!" You yelped. It was like a giant golden retriever galloping to a kitten. He nearly knocked you over, his arms wrapped around you as he squeezed you to his chest. Your winces were muffled against him as he lifted you up, laughing all the way.
"Yun! I can't breathe! And we saw each other an hour ago! You're acting like we haven't seen each other in years." You slapped his shoulder to let you go.
"But I still missed you." He whimpered. You laughed, he was always so adorable with his mannerisms.
"Alright, now where were we?" He asked, hooking arms with you and mindlessly marching down the shopping aisle with you.
"I got the most important thing!" Wooyoung rushed over with his own cart, filled with different kinds of alcohol, mainly different flavours of fruit soju.
"Woo! That's way too much alcohol!" Seonghwa scolded.
"It's fine, hyung. We'll probably finish half of this by tonight." Wooyoung waved the older off.
"Half?! No way, I'm not dealing with any of your drunk selves tonight." Your eyes widened at his declaration. Shaking your head, you ignored Wooyoung and continued getting the rest of what you needed. Yunho melted seeing how you've already planned to buy him so many packs of his favourite snacks.
"Bacon, eggs, cheese, milk... Sausages... We need to get bread too." You said, putting multiple packs of bacon into the cart. Yunho ran to get a few loaves of bread for you.
"Are we good?" You asked. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yunho looked over the cart one last time.
"We're good. Let's head back." Seonghwa pushed all of you towards the cashiers.
"You carry this. We'll carry the rest." Wooyoung cooed and patted your head, giving you the small box with all the chips instead, which practically weighed nothing.
"I can carry more, you know?" You raised an eyebrow.
"We can manage. Don't want you getting injured, sweetheart." Seonghwa said. You gave him a flat look.
"We got it, love. Let's go." Yunho smiled, walking beside you, carrying all the stuff. You went out to the two vans and unloaded all the groceries that you bought, which was a lot since it was food and drinks for 9 people.
"Wanna be my passenger princess?" You asked Yunho. He blinked in surprise at your question, pointing at himself in confusion. You nodded your head.
"Sure. Are you buying me dinner first?" He playfully flirted with you, batting his eyelashes.
"Yeah. Mcdonalds drive thru good?" You scoffed, opening the door for him to get into the passenger seat.
"Usually Mingi is the princess but I don't mind being your princess." He giggled while you get into the driver's seat. You laughed at how silly he was.
"Are the others still at the beach?" You asked.
"Not sure. When I noticed you were gone, I went to look for you and jumped into Wooyoung's van." He shrugged.
"Well, puppies do get separation anxiety." You pointed out, reaching over to pat his thigh. He turned his head to glare at you while you smugly smiled to yourself. Any chance to tease Yunho's likeness to a golden retriever puppy and to see his reaction to it. You parked next to Wooyoung and opened the trunk.
"My brain's already in holiday mood because I am still sleepy." You yawned, carrying the box to the house. Hongjoong opened the door for you all of you.
"Here, let me." Jongho, of course, relieved you of what you were carrying first, even if it was the lightest out of all the bags.
"Go take another nap, love." Yunho said, pressing his body to your side and kissing the top of your head.
"I'm fine, I should help prepare for dinner." You leaned against his chest. Yunho continued to plant kisses on your head and you tried to escape the grip he had on your waist.
"Yunho!" You squealed.
"Ugh alright, we get it. We're single!" Mingi groaned, shaking his head at the two of you. You and Yunho simulatenously stuck your tongues out at him. You patted Yunho on the hip and went to the kitchen to help your crew prepare for dinner.
"We'll do some marinated meat. The rest is plain grill." Seonghwa told you as you washed your hands.
"We can help with the grilling later!" San said from the couch.
"Wait, wait, wait. Before we start on this. I'm declaring that the party starts right now." Wooyoung said, placing 4 shot glasses on the table. He opened a bottle of soju and handed them out.
"Uh oh, this looks like a bad idea." Jongho laughed but still clinked glasses with the rest of you before taking the shot.
"I'll make sure you get to bed later, love." Yunho chuckled, looking on in amusement.
"I hope we at least make it to grilling the actual food and eating it." You shook your head, beginning to pour the ingredients for the bulgogi into a bowl before adding the beef.
"Beef bulgogi done. Are we doing spicy pork belly?" You asked. Seonghwa nodded his head, sliding the gochujang over to you. After making the spicy marinade for the pork belly, you taught Yeosang and Hongjong how to to de-vein the shrimp. Yunho and San were outside on the deck, starting the grill.
"Rice is cooking. Cover and fridge these?" Mingi pointed to the bowls with the marinating meats.
"Yes, please." You smiled, going to wash your hands. After that, you helped prepare the vegetables to be grilled. Wooyoung made the bean paste stew.
"Grill is up and ready for the meats." Yunho came back to your side. This was looking to be a great vacation.
~
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#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop series#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez series#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez yunho#yunho ateez#yunho#yunho scenarios#yunho series#yunho x reader#yunho x you#yunho x y/n#jeong yunho#jeong yunho scenarios#jeong yunho series#jeong yunho x reader
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Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart
Warnings: 18+ content, dry humping?, sexual language, cursing, angst, inexperienced reader, virgin reader.
Authors note: Hi everyone! Sorry it took so long for the update I was studying for exams and what not but I hope you guys enjoy sorry if it seems a little rushed this is my first series so I’m slowly learning! Feel free to inbox me for whatever! <3 this was also a little Lana inspired I just love her so much and I feel like her music matches Billy’s vibe so well.
Chapter 3: Just Ride.
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He gradually emerged from the depths of unconsciousness, his senses assaulted by the incessant beeping of machines, the sterile brightness of the overhead lights, and the icy tendrils of cold air wrapping around him. With a heavy groan, he blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings.
A strong smell of disinfectant lingered in the air.
The hospital?
As he tried to rise, a sharp twinge from his lower ribs forced a hiss of pain from his lips, halting his movement abruptly. And a strong pounding in his head distracted him from moving any further.
"Hey, Billy, I'm Nurse Janet," a woman in pink scrubs greeted him. "How are you feeling? Any discomfort?"
Is she blind?
"Fuck yeah, my head's killing me, and I can't sit up," Billy muttered bluntly, causing the older woman to cringe at his choice of language.
Billy shut his eyes against the glare of the lights and massaged his temples, trying to dull the throbbing pain in his head.
“You have a concussion and a few broken ribs, can you recall what happened tonight?” She asked.
Yeah, Neil really fucked up.
"Not really, no," he lied. Despite his hatred for his father, a small part of him still felt the need to protect him. The nurse looked at him sympathetically. "The doctor will be here shortly. For now, just try to relax," she said, giving him a warm smile before exiting the room.
You’re gonna be okay.
He remembered hearing a voice, he was probably hallucinating but the voice was sweet, soft, and comforting. Maybe it was his guardian angel, but he wasn't about to confess that to the nurses; they'd likely send him in for a psych evaluation.
Bits and pieces of tonight's events flashed through his mind. He recalled finally standing up to Neil, but his memory of the confrontation was hazy at best. All he can hear echoing back and fourth in his head was the fear in max’s voice.
“Get off of him!”
His gut churned at the thought, for he had once experienced that same fear when it was his mother at the mercy of Neil's hands.
Guilt consumed him once again, he looked up at the ceiling tears pricking the inner corner of his blue eyes.
God, what an aggravating feeling.
He was exhausted from the weight of guilt, he was tired of feeling. Maybe if his mom would’ve took him with her, maybe if he stayed in California, maybe he would be different.
Maybe.
The door of his hospital room opened, creaking slightly. A man in a white coat, presumably his doctor, entered, accompanied by two police officers.
Billy felt a slight panic, although he hadn't done anything wrong. His heart rate started to pick up through the monitors.
"Billy, it's all right. This is Chief Jim Hopper," the doctor reassured, motioning towards the tall man. "He's one of the best officers I know and he wants to talk about tonight,”
"Hey kid, I’m J—" Billy cut him off before he could finish, "I know who you are. I have a concussion, not a mental impairment," he snapped defensively. "You can't speak to me unless an adult is present."
Jim swallowed back whatever sarcastic remark was about to spill out of him and took a deep breath,
"You're 18, kid. I'm allowed to speak to you. I just wanted to ask you a few questions," Jim sighed carefully, hoping to gain the boy's trust with his measured tone.
The doctor left the room allowing them space to talk.
“Had some really rough sex, mind was hazy after it and I ran into a door” Billy spat, blatantly lying through his teeth. It was a terrible lie but it was the first thing that came to his brain, his concussion was preventing him from coming up with a better one.
Jim let out a chuckle, his amusement evident, while the other officer couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Running into a door isn't going to give you a grade two concussion and broken ribs," he remarked, with a tone that conveyed both skepticism and exasperation at Billy's attempt to deceive them.
"It was a really hard door," Billy retorted, annoyance creeping into his voice at the one going conversation. “And it was really rough sex, you’d think I was killing her with the noises she was making but I promise, she was enjoying every inch of me,” Billy’s said voice dripping with arrogance.
Jim and officer Callahan exchanged a glance before returning their attention to him.
"Just ask my neighbor; she had front-row seats. She'll tell you," Billy said, his voice smug with confidence.
Although Jim felt for the boy, his patience was wearing thin. "Oh, you mean Y/N? Yeah, she's right outside with your sister, scared half to death. I heard she was screaming at the nurses to be careful with you. Poor girl almost lost her mind seeing you like this," Jim said, his tone tinged with slight frustration.
"She's the one who brought you here, you know. You were knocked out cold in her embrace," Jim said, studying the way Billy's features fell.
His smug expression vanished instantly, replaced by guilt. But he quickly scoffed, putting up his usual dickhead facade to cover it up.
“Listen, kid, we already got statements from your stepmother and your sister. I know your father’s been putting his hands on you for years. We need to know if you have any idea where he might be,” he said with a serious tone.
“You’re arresting him!?” Billy asked in disbelief,
"Should we not?" Officer Callahan said, more as a statement than a question.
Billy looked down at his bruised hands, the same ones that collided with his father's face a little while ago, and started to contemplate life without Neil, life without another parent. He could no longer maintain his facade, he’s felt too much, been through too much, it was cracking. The lonely little boy he’d been his whole life was slipping through the cracks.
"I'll have no one," Billy said, a knot forming in his throat, the weight of loneliness settling heavily upon him.
Jim walked over to the side of his bed and kneeled, “You have three women in that waiting room worried sick about you, I know two of those women personally and they are fighters, they love with every fiber in their body,” Jim said looking at the California boy who reminded him of himself at his age.
He knew you? And max? Surely he wasn’t talking about Susan.
"You have them, and you have me whenever you need it, kid... you just need to try," Jim added, encouraging Billy to lean on their support and make an effort to move forward.
Billy hardly knew you. But the glances, seeing you every morning, watching you in the halls at school, you watching him, he felt a strong pull from you, excitement, a connection, one that scared him. This feeling, this thing was only something he’d see in cheesy movies, shitty romcoms.
“He might be somewhere in the city, but he’ll be back. He’s not leaving without his shit… or maybe he will, who knows.”
Jim nodded, stood up, and patted his shoulder. “We’ll be on the lookout. For now, I’ll have an officer parked outside your house just in case he comes back.”
.
Hop exited the room and headed towards you and Max. Susan left to lock up both your house and hers, since you both forgot to do so earlier, given the circumstances
"He's a smart ass," Hop muttered. "But he's going to be okay physically. He might need a little time to adjust to what's going to happen from here on out, but he has you two, and I made it clear that he had me to talk to as well.
"Yeah, sounds like Billy," Max said, rolling her eyes. “Thanks Hop.” Despite it all, she felt content; her brother was going to be okay, even if it took time. With Neil out of the picture, she held onto hope—for Billy, for their relationship.
He was definitely shitty to her, but Billy did care for her, and she cared for him, at least a part of him. There were times when Neil and her mom argued, and Billy would offer her solace in his own way. He’d take her to the arcade, for burgers, but they never really talked. It was evident they struggled to bond with each other. He was angry that his father met Susan, which was the reason he left California; he blamed her and her mother. However, what Billy didn’t know was she resented him for that same reason.
Max thought that in California, they’d both be safe. She wouldn’t have to face the trauma of encountering interdimensional monsters or deal with Neil’s presence. She wouldn’t witness her mother losing herself to him, or observe Billy’s escalating anger day by day. It felt like everyone was losing themselves in that house. Neil was like Vecna, sucking the life out of people, but not swiftly—rather, in an agonizingly slow manner.
“Can we see him yet?” Max asked.
Hop nodded. “Yeah, I’ll catch up with you two later. I’ve got an asshole to catch.”
.
You and Max slowly entered the room, Billy was staring up at the ceiling lost in thought, his head snapped towards you two when he realized you both came in, he tried sitting up again but the pain he felt was a reminder of the condition he was in.
Max walked towards the front of his bed and you followed right behind her.
“Hey,” Max greeted slowly, “How are you feeling?” Billy looked at her with annoyance as if it wasn’t obvious, “Oh I’m just great Max, feeling like a million bucks,” he said sarcastically.
Max rolled her eyes huffing in annoyance.
“You know you should be thanking us, asshole, we’re the ones who practically carried your ass here,” you spat chiming in, “And you’re not exactly light.” Max added.
Billy’s features softened, and for the first time in a long time, he set his pride aside. “Thank you, Max… I’m sorry you had to see that,” Billy spoke, his voice filled with sympathy.
Your heart broke for them both. Max was such a compassionate soul, and despite whatever barrier Billy had built around his heart, he climbed out of it from time to time for her.
Max nodded and smiled. “I’m just glad you’re okay, shit head. You scared the shit out of me, out of us,” she said, looking over at you.
“It’s gonna take a lot more than Neil Hargrove to take me out,” he replied, his tone smug.
Billy then glanced at you, feeling his heart start to race. God, you were breathtaking. Despite the fatigue evident in your appearance, it only added to your beauty.
Max noticed the way you two looked at each other, and felt as if she was interrupting something.
“Yeah…” max trailed, “I’m gonna go get snacks from the food court, I’ll be back later.” And with that she left, leaving both you and him alone for the first time in what felt like a long time.
You looked at him the same way he looked at you—admiring his beauty, his tough exterior, which only made him more intriguing. Despite his bruised eye and cut lip, he remained mesmerizing. On the way to the hospital, in the back seat of his car, you gently brushed aside the single curls of hair that fell on his face, wishing you could do the same now.
Wait. Back seat of his car? Oh my god the backseat of his car!
You then twisted your face in disgust, “God!” You said in realization, “I sat in the back seat of your car, where you fucked Tina!
Billy struggled to contain his laughter, knowing that doing so would only increase his pain.
“You’re such an asshole!” you shouted angrily. “Ugh, I need to drown myself in disinfectant tonight, damn the consequences,” you huffed.
You glared at him, but a giggle escaped your lips when you noticed him wincing in pain. "Yeah, keep laughing, Hargrove. I'll be right here," you said as you pulled a chair next to his bed, "enjoying every ounce of pain that laughter gives you."
Billy rolls his eyes, the playfulness leaving them before being placed with seriousness.
“I, um,” Billy struggled to get the words out, “T-thank you for helping Max and getting me here.” Before you could respond, he continued, “A-and I’m sorry for being a dick. You didn’t deserve that. I was just…” He took a deep breath before continuing, “My dad, he’s an asshole. He seemed to like you, or at least acted like he did. He’s a damn narcissist, probably did it just to piss me off... Anyway, I lashed out and took it out on you and him. I guess I wanted to piss you both off.”
Billy kept taking deep breaths, you can tell he was struggling, like he wasn’t used to explaining himself or even apologizing. Before he could speak again, you placed your hand over his bruised one gently.
“Billy it’s okay, I understand. I have a pretty clear idea of what goes on in your house, what’s been going on with your father, I’ve been through it too once…” you sighed as his blue ocean eyes bore into your saddened expression, “My mom… she was a bully. She would strip me of my humanity with her words. I was a bitch for a while... I was like a exactly like her, God, I was so awful Billy,” you said as you looked at him through teary eyes, “So I understand.” Billy looked at you with love, understanding now why he felt so drawn to you. You reminded him of himself, but he saw the good within you—the good he hoped to find within himself. Even if it meant putting in the work to mend his heart, he was willing to do it. He needed to do it, for Max, Susan, and for himself. After all they were his only family.
You and Billy sat like that for a while, eventually ending up intertwining your hands. You felt flustered by him, despite him being in a hospital bed. Together, you shared laughs and occasional smiles, enjoying each other’s company. Max eventually came back munching loudly on her snacks, gagging at the two of you, irritating Billy with her sarcasm and with how loud she was chewing. You couldn’t help but laugh, realizing she’d gotten her sarcasm from him. You could get used to this and the warmth that spread through your body filled you with hope.
A few weeks later…
Hawkins Sheriff’s Department focused their efforts on finding Neil, especially since Hawkins was a small town and there seemed to be little else happening besides neighborhood complaints about trivial matters.
Neil returned a few days after Billy was released from the hospital. An undercover car, hidden on his street, swooped in and arrested him just before he could set foot on the porch. That night, you, Max, and Susan comforted Billy, reminding him that he still had a family.
Billy was introduced to the gang the following night to get his mind off things. You threw a little get together at your house. They were all wary, given their past interactions with him, especially Steve. Throughout the night, they exchanged glances. Billy felt sorry; he just couldn’t find the words for Steve. However, he grabbed him a beer, attempting to find some common ground, and Steve accepted. Surprisingly, he and Eddie clicked over their common taste in music. If Eddie could accept that Steve and he had become friends, there was room for one more. Meanwhile, Robin and Nancy chuckled at how smitten you and Billy were, teasing you both about it. Jonathan was cool about it like he was about everything, I think given everything that’s happened this year he had no room for judgments or criticism; he was over it and extremely high out of his mind.
Despite everything, Billy was healing emotionally. He had already recovered swiftly from the injuries he endured from his father, and now everything was slowly falling into place.
Now.
“Y/n let’s go! We’re losing light!” Billy screamed from the driver seat of his car repeatedly honking his door. You huffed loudly and slammed the front door of your house locking the door behind you, “I’m coming GOD!” You yelled back, stomping towards the passenger seat.
You threw your bag of sunscreen and spare clothes through the passenger window, not caring whether it hit him or not, and settled into the passenger seat of his car. You couldn’t stand when he rushed you; it was the most annoying thing. “Jesus, are you ever patient?” you asked rhetorically. Billy was about to respond with a sarcastic comment until he saw what you were wearing. You reminded him of California sometimes. You were wearing a red bikini top with nothing covering the rest of your body, and some blue denim shorts. He tried so hard to keep from lunging at you and devouring every bit of your body.
He’d been doing this for the past few weeks, and it was flustering you more and more each day. You remembered one time you did his laundry. He was gawking at you as you picked up his clothes that were scattered all over his room, making things easier for him since he couldn’t really move given his injuries. He thought you looked like a housewife, his housewife, and it aroused him profoundly.
He teased you about it, and he was very blunt about how he felt. It was infuriating because you actually enjoyed it.
Billy was glad he had planned today just for the two of you. The sun was shining brightly, and Lovers Lake seemed like the perfect place to cool off and relax. Recently, you two had only been around friends—Max, or Max and Susan. He hadn’t been able to spend time alone with you since that night.
After settling in and buckling up, you noticed the car still wasn’t moving. Glancing at Billy, you found him staring at you with an intense gaze, as if he was about to devour you. Your face flushed a deep red as you crossed your legs. “We’re losing light,” you mumbled, attempting to tease him, but you failed miserably. However, you successfully snapped him out of his trance. He licked his lips and chuckled, putting the car in drive and taking off.
You couldn’t help but stare either. Billy was wearing a muscle shirt, showcasing his buff arms, along with some swim shorts. His hair was styled perfectly, as usual, with a single curl falling onto his forehead against his beautiful tan skin. As he held a cigarette in his mouth and drove, butterflies fluttered in your belly.
Metallica blared through the radio as you two drove with the windows down, feeling the warm air on your skin. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling, savoring the moment. It almost felt surreal that you were sitting in his car right now, like something out of one of your romance novels.
“Dammit!” Billy groaned in frustration. “Forgot my fucking lighter.” You rolled your eyes and assured him he’d survive a couple of hours without a lighter. With Billy’s frustration, you noticed the vehicle starting to accelerate more, getting faster and faster. Your belly started to jump with the increasing speed, and you couldn’t help but giggle.
Adrenaline pumped through your veins as Billy’s car felt like a roller coaster. He looked over at you with admiration, recognizing that same feeling, prompting him to go faster on the empty road. You stuck your body out the window, relishing the speed of the car and the harsh wind hitting your face. You felt free, out of this world free. Not a care in the world, just you and a beautiful boy speeding down a ghost town, or rather, a hell town, you might say.
“Fuck you, Hawkins!” you screamed, with Billy joining you in whooping with excitement at the top of his lungs.
You sat back in your seat and looked over to Billy, who was smiling with his foot still pressing on the gas. He started to slow the car down, but you couldn’t help but continue staring. He looked over to you, “You liked that, huh?” he asked, glancing at the tightening of your thighs. The adrenaline rush of it all was enough to get you excited down there, and his presence only intensified the feeling.
You bit your lip and looked over at his. He placed a hand on your thigh, causing your breath to hitch. “Is this okay?” he asked. “Y-yeah, s’fine,” you responded, taking a deep breath.
Billy took pride in the nervousness he caused in you; it excited him.
He kept driving, but his hand now started moving up and down your thigh. Your heart started to race, and the warmth between your legs began to spread. You weren’t being dramatic; you were touch-deprived for God’s sake, and you’ve never made it past second base with anyone.
He then moved his hand higher up your thigh and squeezed tightly, eliciting a slight moan from you. You looked over at Billy, his face filled with awe, while yours was flustered, as if you were in discomfort, eagerly awaiting his touch to ease the pressure building inside you.
“Stop the car,” you said, out of breath, face hotter than the sun.
“But we’re 3 minutes away—” Billy began, but you cut him off.
“Billy, I don’t give a shit, stop the car!”
With that, he pulled off to the side of the road, removing his hand from your thigh as he put the vehicle in park.
Before he could turn to ask what was wrong, you lunged over the center console at him, unable to contain yourself any longer, and kissed him. You grabbed the sides of his face, and it was a passionate kiss that you held for a moment. Then, as you were about to pull away, he took advantage of the slight opening of your mouth and shoved his tongue inside, grabbing the back of your head and adding incredible pressure and pleasure to the kiss. You both fought for dominance, but he won every time. You were in heaven, and the warmth between your legs was becoming harder to contain.
He stopped the kiss for a moment,
“Climb in my lap,” he said through the clashing of your tongues, slightly out of breath, and you obliged, legs going over the center console as you straddled his lap. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought, and you felt some of the pressure down there relieved as you settled.
Your eyes then went wide as you felt something poking at the denim of your shorts causing Billy to chuckle. You then looked down and seen the outline of his hard cock that was straining in his swim shorts.
He bucked his hips slightly into yours, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from both of you. “Can we keep doing that?” you asked shyly, not wanting him to stop.
“Before we dive into this, there’s something I gotta ask.”
You nodded your head, signaling him to ask his question, while both your hands rested on his face.
“You ever been touched, pretty girl?” Billy asked, his voice rough, as he brushed the hair falling over your face behind your ear.
“I—” you sighed nervously. You felt embarrassed. Everyone your age seemed to be having sex or had some type of experience. Robin and Nancy always talked about their experiences, you loved hearing their stories and always hoped you’d experience the same one day. But, the boys you made out with never did it for you, so second base, making out, was all you knew. They’d try to touch you, but you’d never budge. It wasn’t exciting, thrilling, or intimate; it was just plain boring.
You weren’t an idiot you knew what happened during sex and everything that led up to it you’ve just never taken it to the next level.
“S’okay, baby. You can tell me; I won’t judge,” he spoke, now caressing your face, which was hot to the touch.
“No. I’ve only ever made out with a few people but I’ve never made it past that,” you said looking away,
“Hey, look at me,” Billy said. “Look at me, Y/N… I’m gonna show you everything you’ve been missing if you let me.” His hands moved down your sides. “We can take it slow, and then we’ll build our way up. How does that sound?” Billy’s asked voice smooth like honey.
You nodded furiously, excitement building in your belly.
“Good. Now take these off,” he said unbuttoning your denim shorts, “I need you in just your bikini bottoms.” You obliged opening the drivers door quickly hopping out to take off your shorts, then hopped right back in straddling Billy’s lap once again.
The pressure felt different this time, you almost moaned at the contact because it was much more intense as you felt the outline of his cock on your pussy.
You let out shaky breaths as he put his hands on your hips, pushing you down to apply pressure on his throbbing cock. “I’m assuming you’ve never had your big O either, hmm?” he asked. You furrowed your eyes in confusion at his question and tilted your head to the side.
“An orgasm?” Billy spoke again. Your eyes lit up at the familiar word. Robin had told you all about the extraordinary feeling, but you’ve never come close to experiencing it.
“Oh!” you exclaimed, finally understanding what he was talking about, but your expression shifted to a frown. “No, never,” you mumbled.
“Oh, you’re breaking my heart, baby,” he said as he guided your hips to grind up, then down his clothed length. “Ah, shit,” you cursed as you grabbed at his muscle shirt, almost tearing it off with how hard you were gripping. “That’s okay,” he cooed. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, darling,” he rasped against your ear, licking at it.
A big part of him found comfort in the fact that no one else’s hands had touched you but his own, knowing that no one else could make you feel the way he did. The mere thought of anyone else touching you drove him to the edge of insanity. He was possessive, and he couldn’t help it.
The sensation you felt was otherworldly. It felt as though your body was craving this, yearning for this level of attention. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, like tiny electric shocks. Billy locked his deep blue eyes with yours, his mouth slightly agape. You couldn’t fathom how he was finding pleasure in this, but he did. His face flushed slightly, and he emitted small grunts as you took charge of your movements. Unable to resist any longer, you leaned in and shared a sloppy, passionate kiss with him. The mutual fervor intensified your arousal, and you found yourself moaning into his mouth as he guided your pace.
“That feel good, sweetheart? You like that?” He grunted through the sloppy kiss. You kept going like that for a few seconds, then Billy slipped his hands down, ghosting your clit with his fingers, and pulled your bikini to the side roughly. Your bare pussy was now grinding on his clothed member. “Fuck, you’re killing me, Y/N. You’re dripping through my shorts,” he said in a low grunt.
“Ah, feels so good, Billy, feels amazing,” you whined, your eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensation. It was incredible. Your wet folds were soaking through Billy’s shorts.
“You’re almost there, sweetheart. You’re doing so well,” Billy groaned into your mouth. Both your tongues explored eagerly, creating an intense heat. Drool dripped from your mouth, mingling with his, and you savored each other’s taste, lost in the moment.
Billy was on the edge, trying hard to control himself. You were driving him wild, completely absorbed in your own pleasure as you kissed him passionately. It was a new experience for him, seeing you like this, and he knew he would never forget it.
It was difficult for him to restrain himself from touching you, from speeding up the process and bringing you to orgasm faster. But he resisted, wanting you to explore and discover on your own, to use him as you pleased. He desired to corrupt you, to be the one to show you the way, to introduce you to pleasure. It felt selfish and sinful, but he wanted to be the one, and he always would be.
“Billy, I think… oh, fuck, I think I’m coming,” you whimpered as the knot tightened at your core. It was overwhelming, your movements becoming erratic, and Billy gripping your hips roughly as if he was about to burst too.
Billy then released one hand from your hip, cupping both cheeks with it, and forced you to look into his eyes as you unraveled. Your eyes screwed shut, and your hips stuttered with pleasure, drawing out a stream of curses from Billy’s mouth.
“Fuck, fuck,” Billy groaned as he shot a load into his swim shorts.
Your moans grew louder, and then the knot snapped. Your mind went black as waves of pleasure took over your body, riding out your first orgasm. Billy’s intense groans and moans added to the overwhelming sensation.
You collapsed onto his heaving chest, both of you needing to catch your breath.
There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it was filled with joy and hope. You both were still shocked that this had happened.
“Can we have sex now?” you said, out of breath, lifting your head a little from his chest and batting your lashes at him.
Billy chuckled, “Easy there, tiger. Remember, we’re taking it slow. Don’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, gently brushing the back of your soft hair with his hand.
“Is it always like that?” you asked curiously. “Do you feel like this with other people? Is it always this intense and earth-shattering?”
Billy pondered for a moment. He knew the answer; he just couldn’t believe it. He had came in his pants from just your grinding. It was unbelievable.
“Nah,” Billy responded. “It’s never like this. It’s us. It’s you.”
You blushed and buried your face into the crook of his neck, feeling warm inside. You were excited to explore this world of pleasure together.
“Looks like we’ve lost light,” you giggled, poking his chest, your gaze drifting to the darkness outside.
“Yeah,” he smiled, remembering how he had hurried you out of the house. “We sure did.”
Taglist:
@jennapancake @writethrough @callsignwidow @strlightfilms @empathyroad @moneyy-21 @fossface @t3n1 @learninglinesintherainn
Tags:
#stranger things#billyhargroveseries#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove#eddie stranger things#stranger thing s4
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ugh just thinking about being in a relationship with sweet softie Matt and overhearing your girls talk about their partners being a little rough and getting a tiny bit sad because you want Matty to be rough with you and so of course you bring it up very briefly and move on from it. What you don’t know is Matt took NOTES. he understood the assignment. so on the last week of tour when everything’s super hectic, you’re getting a little restless and needy. just wanting some one on one with your boyfriend. all for him to come up to you, whisper to meet him in the bus in 10 minutes, sharp. confused, you go to the bus. only for him to pull you over his lap and tell you, “getting real tired of your attitude, sweetheart. don’t know what’s gotten into my sweet little baby but what i do know is i’m gonna make your ass red. maybe that’ll show you how to behave.” and he’d pull your jeans and panties down to your knees, just enough that he has the best view of your ass. “honey, if at any moment you want me to stop, smack my leg. got it?” and you’d nod, which was NOT what he wanted. he send a light smack to your ass, “words, baby. try again.” you’d moan real quietly, not thinking he heard you. “i understand, Matty.” once he got to his 6th smack on reddening cheeks, he’d grab your ass a little rough and pull. just so he can get a good look at your pussy. “are you getting off on me bullying your ass?” he’d ask. when you don’t respond, he’d run a finger between your folds. “can’t believe you’re this much of a whore for me. you’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment ya know? what’s getting you off, baby? is it the pain? or is it the fact that the man who worships the ground you walk on is being a little mean?”
#matt dierkes headcannon#matt dierkes x reader#matt dierkes smut#bad omens smut#bad omens headcanons#bad omens blurb#bad omens fluff#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fic#matt dierkes#matt dierkes blurb
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What do you think are Gojo and Geto’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?
Until now, have you found any couple (canon or non canon) from any media (books, tv series, movies, anime/manga, etc) that the dynamics remind you of Gojo/Geto?
Thanks if you want to answer....
(I forgot this ask in my drafts sorry)
Asking me to ramble about my hyperfixation when I'm too tired to write in correct English is cruelty actually /j
I think their strengths are mostly the same as their weaknesses. (It's only my take on them, everyone has a different opinion)
Geto's empathic, he understands people, he likes helping, giving advice, protecting, and caring ; he makes a point to ensure that everyone around him is fine and safe. He's strong so he can bear with painful tasks, he knows he can, so he doesn't complain about it. He has a great sense of morals and responsibilities. It's all amazing qualities, until it became too much.
He was caring too much, worrying too much, enduring too much, and he drowned under the weight of everything he fought so hard for. His morals contradicted his will to help people and he had to make a choice. He loved people so much he couldn't bear to see his friends die, so he sacrificed the entire world to protect them.
I think his greatest weakness is that he loved his close ones more than he loved himself, so he didn't even think about asking for help because he didn't believe people would care about him as much as he cared about them.
Geto, like everyone else, would say that Gojo is selfish, which is ironic because Geto is the one who kept everything to himself and didn't let people worry about him. He tried to fix himself alone, then decided he didn't need to be fixed.
Gojo's selfish, egocentric, forgetful, defiant, and is very much in love with his best friend. Those are weaknesses, to be clear. He's also kinda naive, because he believes things will be fine no matter what, but this is just another side of his arrogance. He hates authority figures but he needs to be told what to do because he is not able to regulate himself. He needs someone to draw a line for him, but he cannot express the importance that person has because he doesn't think it matters. Not that he doesn't believe they'd care but because he thinks they already know. (They don't- again, it's because of his arrogance).
He doesn't realize nor understand how other people feel, but that doesn't stop him from reacting accordingly. Because he knows what it's like to suffer, to be lost, to be betrayed, to be lonely. He is not empathic, he doesn't feel what people are feeling, but he was so self-centered that he lost the person he loved the most, and now that he knows the pain he can project his own emotions on others.
He's selfish and egocentric, so he saw people he could take care of and decided it'd be his responsibility to ensure they'd grow up happily. He doesn't care what the higher-ups think, he will do whatever pleases him. He also doesn't care what those people he takes care of are thinking, he forces himself into their lives because he truly believes he can make it better -and he does. (arrogance, the good side).
Gojo is arrogant and strong, he thinks he can change the world and deal with the consequences. He knows he can fight anything, so he doesn't actually worry about threats, even though it sometimes hurt his students. He proposes a status quo because he knows no one can fight him. He manages to keep Yuuta and Yuuji and Megumi safe by pure defiance.
Also it's canon that Gojo's mortal weakness is Geto himself.
What I love about them is perhaps the metaphors, the parallels, and the co-dependency. They're literally soulmates, they're a perfect match, they value each other so much it's overwhelming. They're also dumbasses and I love that kind of ship. They're handsome and pretty and gorgeous. They're smart and stupid at the same time. They're so in love that 9 years apart weren't enough to kill that. They're both little shit but one knows how to pretend to be nice. Literally EVERYTHING Gojo does as an adult is because of the influence Geto had in his life. They know each other so deeply that a simple glance is enough to recognize the other. Geto's body broke through Kenny's control because Gojo was in danger and it was the FIRST TIME it happened in CENTURIES. Hell, what is there NOT to love about them ??
Anyway. They make me think about Orpheus and Eurydice from the Greek mythology (He looked back. He knew she shouldn't, but he looked back because he loved him). I recently read a post that compared them to Achilles and Patroclus and I was like, oh, yeah, that could work.
Also, they kinda have a vibe of Steve and Bucky from MARVEL. Like, childhood friends who liked messing around together until one got lost and followed a dark path while the other had to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders and was so praised and admired that he wasn't allowed to have a life by himself. Years and years later they met again and memories came back and the world fell apart. They're enemies know, opposite sides, there's only one way to stop the other. But. But they still love each other. (I'm going to make myself cry)
I could write so much more but I'm going to stop here because I have the feeling that I'm already annoying lmaooo
#analysis#stsg#geto suguru#gojo satoru#satosugu#sugusato#jjk#answering ask#answering asks#jujutsu kaisen#character analysis#anon ask#gego#goge
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