#did shit all to my sex life but helped me to accept that i will from now on have the body of a decade older person who's given birth

[pajulintu]

woke at 5am because of period pain

i am not supposed to have period pain, not after the doctor told me to use hormones without any breaks

[colormepurplex2]

Shatter With Me | Please, Let Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, sure, okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not good,” he whispers.

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A boy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right, sure, of course.”

“No problem, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

“Hey, Jiyoon. Do you have a moment?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve talked to him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Having swollen feet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Yeah, sure.”

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

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

“A girl?”

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

A sister.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would.”

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

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

Girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I mean that.”

💔💔💔

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

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

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

“Um, okay. Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jiyoon. Are you serious?”

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

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

“No epidural?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

This has to be a joke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung, hey, wait up a second.”

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

“Can we talk for a minute?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sun’s nice, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you doing that?”

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

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

“Can I ask you something?”

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

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

“What’s going to happen after?”

“After?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“It doesn’t matter. Just drop it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“This is about Jungkook, isn’t it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are we doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like, with you in them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Relax. Act natural, remember?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

He looks through her phone.

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

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

“Is Taehyung here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think something is going on with Jiyoon.”

“Such as?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About?” Taehyung prompts.

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

“A certain manager who is carrying your baby?”

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

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

“Jiyoon didn’t lie, though—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My wife? What are you talking about?”

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

“Umm…okay.”

“Promise me that you’ll listen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to go,” Jungkook says quietly.

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

“Where are you right now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiyoon is here.

💔💔💔

“Where is he? I know he’s here!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why don’t you tell me yourself?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you’d just let me expla—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“An emotional support hug or a freedom kiss?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait. Really? You’re being serious?”

“As long as you are.”

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

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

“I’ve wanted you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In here,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your lower back bothering you?”

You nod. “Just a bit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[leah-lover]

Behind her eyes.WNBA!reader x Alexia putellas.

Summary: Alexia and R's relationship is tested after what happened at one of r's basketball games

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Your girlfriend’s eyes were the reason why you fell in love with her. They were the first thing that caught your attention when it came to her and they are the thing you looked for when you were lost, upset or angry.

You first noticed her hazel eyes when she sat court side at one of your games in barcelona. You had just joined the catalonian team after the end of the wnba season. It was your first time playing in the Spanish league. In fact, it was your first time playing overseas and you didn't acclimate very well. You didn't know anybody, you didn't speak the language, you were just lonely and homesick.

It all changed on one home game, alexia came with a bunch of her teammates to support your new team, she sat courtside and watched attentivly as your team played valencia. You weren't feeling like yourself in your new home yet so you hadn't put on your usual performance. It all changed when you got fouled and fell directly in front of her. Angry, you wanted to pick a fight with the player that fouled you but you got distracted by a perfect face or more less a pair of dreamy eyes. They took you back for a moment and you kept thinking about them for a couple plays. You even glanced at her direction when you weren't moving the ball. She lit a fire inside of you, one that you have been trying to ignite ever since you left the US. You had to do better, you had to impress this person and leave an impression on her.

After the break, in the 3rd quarter, you put your game face on and started to direct play on the floor. You shot 3s, layups, blocked shots, assisted your teammates and over all controlled play. By the end of the game, the crowd was loud , and your team was leading the game by 20 points, which is the most this team has ever led with . You were happy, and you were yourself again.

You were celebrating with your teammates and coach when the social media manager came to you and asked you to come take a picture with alexia and her teammates. You got nervous all of a sudden but you tried to keep your cool. You introduced yourself, took the photo and tried as much as you could to memorize her features.

“ Hey, your shooting ability is impressive.” she says, her spanish accent apparent in her english.

“ What we do here is easy compared to controlling a ball with your feet, and running on the giant field you guys play in for 90 minutes.” you reply.

“ I guess every sport has its ups and downs.” she added.

“ You want to take some shots?” you invited her while bouncing the ball on the floor. She hesitantly accepted and so you helped her by correcting her form allowing her to take shots.

“ Holy shit you might be coming for my job.” you complimented her.

“ I don't think so. I am pretty attached to football, or as you people say soccer.” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“ don't count me in with those people calling it soccer and not football is pretty stupid.” you take another shot while holding eye contact with alexia. “ Besides, I am pretty damn good at my job.”

You two continue talking about the differences of your sports all the way down to the locker room where alexia’s teammates were waiting for her.

“ Come on, capi, we're gonna be late. “ says one of her teammates.

“ I came to one of your games, now it's your turn to come to mine.”

“ will do capi.” you joked before giving her a kiss goodbye.

Throughout the next couple of months you went to every game of hers you could and she did the same to you. You always stayed late talking, laughing, sometimes even practicing each other's sports after every game.

Talking after the game turned into dinners, then sex, and eventually you two started dating. You met her friends and family, and slept regularly at her house when you were in barcelona.

Your life seemed perfect, you were in your A game, you had a gorgeous girlfriend and you two loved the hell out of each other, you had friends in this strange new country who you would go out to brunch with on the weekend. You frankly were the happiest person in the world. Well, that only lasted for about 8 months.

It all happened at once in one second your perfect life came crashing down. During the playoffs, It was a regular 1v1 battle, you tried to turn around and make a shot but your knee thought otherwise and caused you to fall to the floor and scream out loud. The pain was inimaginable. Quickly, tears were streaming down your face, your teammates formed a huddle around you to shield you from the cameras, and the medic came rushing towards you.

“ hey do you hear me?” she asked. It was hard for you to focus. But all of a sudden it became clear, you didn't feel the pain anymore, and you stopped crying.

“ Non-contact injury, my knee, it's an ACL tear right?” you looked at the medic with a little hope in your eyes.

“ most likely. I am so sorry.” she said as she and her assistant tried to pull you up and help you hop to the locker room.

On the way there you look to your left and see a scared alexia. You looked at her eyes where you usually find solace and hope only to find sympathy and fear. She gave a reassuring smile but you looked at the ground immediately.

Once in the locker room, the medics began explaining the situation.

“ I know everything that’s gonna happen, I have been through this before. Its hard and it fucking sucks. I just want to go home now. I will be back tomorrow for scans.”

The medical team complies with your request and helps you go to the locker room to collect your things. Once you find yourself alone you smash one of your crutches on the ground multiple times, you bend the steel. You weren't proud of what alexia saw when she came in to check on you but you had to get the anger out of you. You would find out later that the crutch didn't get all of it.

Throughout the whole car ride flashes of the pain of rehab and hard work you put on only 3 years ago flooded your memory. You only got out of your head when you noticed the route that the car you were in was taking.

“ alexia i want to go home.” you say in a surprisingly harsh tone. She didn't look at you and continued driving.

“ alexia.” you repeat again.

“ You are not gonna scare me into pulling away from you.” she replied calmly.

“ Alexia, I just want to go home.” you say again not giving up your harsh tone.

“ we are going home amor. Home where I can be with you and take care of you.” .

“ I didn't ask you to. Just take me to my fucking house.”

What you said seemed to anger her so she pulled over. “ Let's get this out of the way now. First you are not going to drive me away, I love and I won't let you go. Second , you don't talk to me like that, not with that town and ot with those words. Third, call me Alexia again and you won't like what happens.” she shares eye contact with you again before putting her seat belt back on and driving home.

You didn't say a word through the rest of the car ride, you just dove into the sea of painful memories your brain prepared for you. When alexia notices your sudden change of demeanor, she puts her hand on your thigh only for you to flinch. You flinching at her touch meant that you were thinking about your past relationship and that's when alexia put two and two together.

You didn't realize that you two were home until Alexia opened your door and handed you your crutches.

“ alexia just take me to my house.”

“ We will talk about it upstairs, come one.”

You felt sick to your stomach, all you wanted to do was throw yourself in her arms and let her stroke your hair and scratch your back until you fell asleep.

Outside in the world and to the media your personality was larger than the world. You were loud, fun , playful, and funny. When you came you closed the door behind you and your girlfriend you craved to just lay on her and let her take care of you. However you were too proud to ever say anything out of fear she might not like the other side of the coin.

“Bébé talk to me please.”

You tried to keep your mouth shut. You tried so hard to swallow your words. But you could you couldn't keep it in anymore.

“ I am just so tired of pretending.” you whisper.

“ louder mi amor.”

“ This person I am about to become is grumpy, sad, angry and in pain. I am not gonna be the fun cocky person anymore. I have been through this before. It never fails to break me so please just take me home . I want to go home,and cry about my season at home that I lost. I want to cry about the fact that I will go through this miserable journey again. I want to cry about the fact that all I want is to be held by my girlfriend but I can't ask for that because I am afraid you will leave me. i just want to fucking cry.” by now you were hysterically crying and yelling. Alexia was holding you tight , her hands were becoming white.

“ I love you so much.” she just kept repeating that phrase over and over until you calmed down.

“ I will never leave you. I would love to hold you and take care of you and I don't pity you. You just had a fantastic season in a strange country and I am so proud of that and we will battle this together. “ she continued to rub your arms and whisper how much she loved you no matter what your mood was. You couldn't resist the temptation to drop your guard and be who you are anymore.

“ promise you will never leave me ale.” you plead.

“ I promise you that I will never leave. I am so sorry I didn't make you sure enough in my love for you. I promise you to do better.”

“ Can you help me take a bath and go to bed then. tomorrow is gonna be tough i need to sleep.

“ alright amor but first i want to hold you some more and stroke your hair.”

Somehow , She knew that that's what you ached for the most.

You turn your head and look into her eyes again to find love and admiration instead of the sympathy and fear that was there before so you relaxed and let her take care of you.

You knew since the moment you saw her that her eyes were your saving grace.

[m00nlight-ramblings]

I Wanna Be Yours

(I've had this idea since I've seen like, a million 80's movies in succession). You're close to valedictorian, a known smarty-pants. So imagine your surprise when you become friends with Eddie Munson...and then fall in love with him.

Pairing: Eddie x female reader, friends x lovers, dual pov

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), swearing

*MINORS DNI*

Word Count: 4.16k

REMINDER: My inbox is open so please request some stuff because I'm dying to write!

"Oh, fuck where is it?" You loudly murmured, shuffling the books in your locker. They clanged around, sending soft bonk! noises and reverberations through your locker, which only made you more annoyed. You huffed, dropping your arms by your side. You only had a few minutes before you had to be in class, and you couldn't find your fucking book.

You groaned and started the process again, knowing you'd probably be fruitless - you've only checked like, 100 times, so at this point you'd just have to accept the fact that you'd somehow forgotten it at home. It also didn't help that your locker was stacked to the brim with books, folders, papers, and miscellaneous things you've collected in just a month since school started

"Um...you okay?" A voice asked behind you, startling you out of your frustrated trance. You turned to see Eddie Munson standing there, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear and tilting his head. Slightly embarrassed, you shrugged and huffed (again).

"Yeah I just...can't find my chemistry book. And I have class in-" You checked your watch, "Seven minutes." (And it also just so happened that chemistry was your worst class so you like, really needed this damn book).

"Want me to check?" He offered, gesturing to the locker. You paused a moment, and furrowed your brow. Then, you stepped aside, giving him access to your locker. He stepped forward, leaning into the locker and started gently exploring.

"Yeah, you can try but I don't think you'll find it. I've checked, like, a hundred times and I think I just left it at home and-"

"Here it is! Chemistry you said, right? You're looking for..." Eddie took a moment to examine the cover of the book. With a boisterous (and very silly) voice, he spoke, "Chemistry 301: Principles of Organic Chemistry?"

You gasped and smiled at him, snatching the book from him and staring at it. How did he find it? "Oh my god, are you kidding? I've been looking for this thing for like, 10 minutes. Where was it?!"

Eddie chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly, "Right in the front."

You looked at him, "I could hug you right now, oh my god! Chemistry is my worst subject and I can't even focus in that class if I don't have the book with me and...ugh. You're a life saver. Thank you." You beamed, hopping on your toes a little.

You and Eddie never really spoke, but of course knew each other - everyone in Hawkins did. Having a few classes with him over the years, any conversation you ever had with him was in passing. But after him your book for you, and seeing his smile..."The Freak" didn't actually seem all that freaky at all.

"Yeah, well, no worries. I'm just a good ole knight in shining armor, I guess." He bashfully made a face, causing you to giggle. "Actually...I just wanted to come over and thank you for something."

Confused, you cocked my head to the side, "Thank me?"

Eddie nodded, stepping aside so you could close your locker, "Yeah. I heard from Wheeler the other day that he dropped all his books and shit in the hallway and you helped him grab everything," His smile was soft...if you weren't looking so hard at his face (why were you staring?), you'd have missed it, "That was nice. So...thanks."

You nodded, mirroring the small smile. "Wheeler as in...Mike Wheeler? The freshman?" You thought back to a few days ago, "Yeah...he said he tripped, but Craig from the football team was lurking around so I have a feeling Mike didn't trip all by himself," I rolled my eyes, "People can be dicks sometimes so...anyway. I know what it's like to be a freshman." You slowly started to walk to class, Eddie following in line next to you.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Eddie cleared his throat and spoke again, "So...chemistry's not your best subject, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, "Definitely not. I hate it...it's so hard. My favorite class is English."

"English? Hey, mine too. What's your favorite book?"

You pause, furrowing your brows again, "...don't laugh."

He throws his hands up in an "I'm innocent" movement, "Cross my heart."

You take a moment before you speak, "I like 'The Hobbit'. I've read it, like, a million times. I re-read it like, once a year-"

"'The Hobbit'? I like that one too!" Eddie smiled widely, "...do you listen to Led Zeppelin by any chance?"

You laugh, "Are you about to tell me that 'Ramble On' was inspired by 'The Hobbit?" You watch his eyes widen slightly.

"You know that already?"

You nod, "My dad loves them. Has all their records. He can't help but spit out random fun facts about that stuff. I like them, too," You find yourself in front of your chemistry class, "Well...this is me. Thanks for finding my book again, Eddie."

He leans his shoulder against the wall and smiles. You notice his eyes flicker quickly to your lips and back to your eyes again before he speaks, "No problem. Thanks for helping Wheeler. I'll...see you around, I guess?"

You nod, looking back at him while you head into class, "Definitely."

And that was the start of you and Eddie.

Eddie didn't know what had come over him that day, helping you out at your locker. Wheeler had mentioned once that you seemed cool (Henderson enthusiastically agreed), and ever since then, he was convinced he had to thank you. Not just because you had helped his friend (which was cool), but also...had you always been that pretty?

Sure, you two didn't seem to have anything in common - you were known for being one of the smartest kids in school, with like 1,000 extracurriculars, bound for some Ivy League on the East Coast, and Eddie was...well, Eddie. Now in his third try at being a senior, school wasn't necessarily his strongest subject. But, you hadn't ever played in him being a freak, and always seemed kind so...he figured it would be safe to thank you for being so nice to his friend.

Because that's all he wanted to do...was thank you. That was all. Definitely not flirt with you or anything.

After that moment at your locker, Eddie seemed to run into you everywhere - lunch period, the hallway, even the mall that one time he actually went because he needed to pick up some D&D books from the bookstore. And slowly but surely, "running into each other" turned into:

"What do you mean she's just watching?" Dustin asked one day, setting up the drama room for Hellfire Club, "You never let people just watch. They always have to play. Is she going to play?"

"No, Dustin, for the hundredth time explaining, she is not playing. She is watching. Do you have a problem with her? Mortal enemies or something?"

Dustin eyed Eddie and shrugged, eventually going back to setting the table up, "No I just...you never let people watch..." He starts to grumble, "I guess in order to watch you need to have boobs, or something..."

That night at the game, Eddie wasn't his best DM self. He was distracted - probably had to do with the hours of homework he "needed to do", and definitely wasn't because you were there, sitting next to him, intently watching the game and reacting. It definitely didn't have anything to do with your cute gasps, or little squeals, or laughter whenever something happened.

Definitely not, at all.

At one point in the game, you tapped him on the shoulder. He leaned into you, not taking his eyes off of the rest of Hellfire Club, who were currently engrossed in trying to figure out their next strategy.

"Yes, m'lady?" Eddie asks in a British accent.

"Wouldn't Henderson's character be able to go through that door? Like...isn't he really charismatic? So like...can't he convince the guard to let them pass? I know he's not like, the main dude in the game or whatever but..." Your voice trails off as you realize that maybe you were too off base. You didn't really know the game at all, but that seemed right...right?

Eddie nodded slowly and his eyes darted over to you quickly...you were right. Holy shit...you were right, and Eddie totally didn't see this lapse in judgement. He smiled at you and took note of how his heart seemed to flip into his stomach, sending a quick shiver down his spine.

Shit. He was in trouble.

"Eddie, can you turn it down a little bit? I'm trying to concentrate." You groaned slightly, shifting your head in your hand as your eyes scan the textbook in front of you. Not that it's really doing anything since you can't seem to retain any information at the moment.

Eddie, who was currently practicing his air guitar solo to Metallica's "Ride the Lightning", gave three quick headbangs before turning down the music, but immediately went back to air guitar.

"Aren't I supposed to be helping you with your science homework?" You asked, a little annoyance rising, "If you're gonna be distracted, I'm gonna go home. I have like, a million college brochures to go through and-"

"No! No!" He immediately stops and stands at attention like a soldier, salute and everything, "Okay. I'll stop." He jumps on the bed next to you, sending a pencil fly in the air. He caught it and stuck it behind his ear, "Okay. Science!" He clapped his hand and rubs them together like a mad scientist.

You chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, gently shoving his shoulder beside you. "Okay, so, when dealing with organism structure, you have to remember that everything is made up of cells, right? So when thinking of specialized parts of the body-" You look up to see him staring at you, definitely not paying attention to what you're saying. "Eddie..."

He snaps to attention and smiles bashfully, "Sorry. I'm...distracted?" His eyes dart to your lips again and your heart does that annoying "pounding in your chest" thing it does basically every time Eddie looks at you.

"Do you want to be a senior for a fourth time?"

He playfully shakes his head, "Nope. Definitely not."

"What's got you so distracted, anyway? Thinking about your date with Mindi tomorrow?" You probed him a bit, trying to get more information out of him. When you had become friends with Eddie, he definitely had his fair share of..."girlfriends". Which at first, you didn't mind.

Not that you minded now, but...five months after initially becoming friends with him, you would just prefer if you were his girlfriend.

Eddie's face flushed and he looked away, throwing the pencil behind his ear on to his dresser across the room, "Oh, Mindi? No, I...cancelled that. Like, a week ago." He suddenly got off of the bed and started to pace around his bedroom a little. I watched him for a moment before speaking.

"Why? Weren't you like, so excited to take her to the movies? You said she was soooOoo hot and blah blah blah-"

"I'm just not interested in her anymore." He interrupted you, stopping his pacing. He turned to face you and didn't break eye contact, his eyes seemingly staring into your brain.

Did he know? Did he know how you had fallen for him?

It started slowly, in a way you didn't even recognize - he made you laugh more than other people, you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, and he was so kind...not only to you, but to his friends, and even your parents when he'd come to pick you up on a Friday night with the group. He'd always come to the door, always make small talk with your mom. Not only that, but he was a gentleman, which surprised you - opened doors, pulling out your chair...

Not to mention, when it was late at night and you couldn't sleep, you couldn't help your thoughts turn to his hands in your hair, his dick inside of you, whispering your name over and over again.

The sudden realization that you were falling in love with him slapped you hard in the face - one day after school, you two were walking to his van for a ride home and someone's car blew past you in the parking lot, seemingly out of nowhere. You were about to step out but Eddie pulled you back, your body immediately pressing against his, your face mere inches from each other.

The air was electric, and you couldn't look away from his eyes. Finally, he spoke, "...you okay?" His voice was husky, low. It sent goosebumps down your arms, which were currently being held by Eddie's. You could only nod, words escaping you. Finally, Eddie broke the spell by screaming at the car, "JESUS CHRIST YOU PIECE OF SHIT WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING BEFORE YOU FUCKING KILL SOMEONE!"

Back in his room, you eyed him. "Why aren't you interested in her anymore?" You asked quietly, sensing the air shift. It felt more tense, more heavy.

What the fuck was going on?

Eddie, seemed to zone out for a second, taking a piece of his hair and chewing on it lightly. His eyes were focused on the floor, "Maybe...I think because...I'm interested in someone else?" It came out as a question, not a statement.

You swallowed hard. He was acting strange. Your heart started to beat strong enough that you heard it in your head. "...who are you interested in, then?" You asked. You took the textbook you were reading and closed it, putting it on his bedside table. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Please be me, please be me, please be me! Your brain was shouting so loud you were surprised he couldn't hear it.

Eddie looked up at you quickly and then back down again, his face unreadable. Which was concerning, because Eddie's face was always an animated as a Muppet.

Was it hot in here?

Taking a step forward, he was standing at the foot of the bed now. It seemed like he was thinking...hard. "I..."

Before he could even start, he finished. The single word hung in the air, causing your heart to race even faster and your head to swim. You WHAT, Eddie? You felt like you were about to lose your mind. Was he going to say it or not? Were you going to find out, or not?

"I'MINLOVEWITHYOU." You said loudly, the words spilling out of your mouth before you could even stop them. You gasped and clapped your hand over your mouth, hoping that somehow that action would suck the words back in, as if it never happened. Eddie's head snapped up and he stared at you. The air had been sucked out of the room in one fell swoop, and you could feel embarrassed tears prickle at your eyes. "Oh, god, Eddie...I-I-"

Oh no...what had you done? You had just ruined something between you and one of your closest friends. No more movie nights, no more homework sessions, no more late night phone conversations-

In a single motion, Eddie was on top of you, his lips crashing into yours. You didn't have time to even think, but your hands immediately found their way into his hair, cradling his scalp as he pressed his body into yours. You gasped at his initial contact but quickly found yourself melting into the kiss. Eddie moaned into your mouth, his tongue gently asking permission to open. Once granted, he hungrily kissed you, pressing your back into the bed.

"Eddie..." You breathed as you pulled back a bit, looking at him. He smirked and started to pepper your chin with gentle kisses, a far cry from the kiss that had started the whole thing.

"Mmmmyes?" His eyes were twinkling as he looked at you. Suddenly he pulled back, his mouth agape, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No! No-" You almost shouted, "No, I-"

"I love you too." He said quickly, a flush coming to his face, "I...love you too. I have. For a while."

You smile, heart feeling like it's about to explode. You pulled him back into a kiss, using your tongue to explore his immediately. He moaned, pressing his groin into yours. You felt an instant rush of wetness to your panties as your hands found their way to the nape of his neck. Eddie pulled away from the kiss, his hand gently finding it's way to the top of your pants. He looked at you and you nodded, and he quickly undid the button, pulling them down, exposing your pink cotton underwear, which you felt was already starting to soak through.

Eddie hissed as he slid down your body, pressing his mouth to the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped lightly, watching him. He was quite beautiful - his hair starting to dampen with sweat at the hairline, his eyes shimmery, hungry for you. He pressed his tongue down flat on your wet spot once - teasingly - and leaned up again, removing his shirt.

Your head was still swimming as he fully pulled your pants off at your ankles, gently spreading your legs, and pushing your underwear aside. He laid on his stomach, getting comfortable, and wrapped your legs on his shoulders. He quickly glanced up at you, his eyes dark.

"Your pussy is so fucking beautiful." He said, his voice a low growl. His voice caused you to whimper slightly, and before you could even think, his tongue was moving in action, teasing your clit in small, wet motions.

"Oh, fuck, Eddie-" You couldn't think as the pleasure started to rise.

"You're already so wet for me, princess," He said, going back to your clit again. He paused to pull your underwear off but was quickly back in your pussy, moaning as if he was eating a delectable meal. He switched between quick, teasing moments, and flattening his tongue against the entirety of your pussy. You weren't sure if it was because he was just that good, or if it was because you had quite literally been dreaming of this moment for a while, but after a few minutes, you felt the coil in your lower belly start to tighten.

"Fuck Eddie...you feel so fucking good. I-I-I'm close, I think-"

"Come for me." He spoke into your pussy, suddenly slipping a finger in. Slowly at first, he started to finger you, curving his finger in an upwards motion while inside. You shrieked, immediately grabbing his hair with both hands. He responded by growling into your mound, concentrated on sending you over the edge.

Suddenly, the coil snapped and you moaned his name, no longer in control of what came out of your mouth. Your head was swimming with hot pleasure, beads of sweat gathering on your temple as your hips bucked into his mouth. Eddie slipped his finger out and gave your clit a final, gentle kiss before he slid out from under your legs and sat on his knees. He stared at you and started to shake his head, smiling.

"So fucking sexy..." He murmured, unbuckling his pants. Quickly, you reached up to help him and he looked at you.

"Just trying to get your pants off faster," You said, a blush rising to you.

"And why's that?"

"I need you. To fuck me. Right now." You said, dragging his pants down. He chuckled and stood up, shaking his pants down to his ankles. The length of his cock sprung up in his boxers, creating a tent that your eyes immediately fell on. He paused a moment and took his boxers off, his cock already glistening with precum. He slowly made his way back to you, laying on top of you. His cock laid in between the lips of your pussy, causing you to moan slightly. He sucked on your neck, a hand finding it's way to your hair and tugging slightly.

"You're awfully greedy." He purred into your ear teasingly. You heard him open his bedside table drawer, grabbing a condom and snapping the draw shut. Kneeling up again while discarding the condom wrapper, he rolled the condom on his dick achingly slow, never taking his eyes off of you. You felt a new rush of wetness slide through your pussy, and you opened your legs up more.

Eddie stroked his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance, which was already aching with pleasure. He leaned forward, his forehead touching yours. Your breath hitched in your stomach as he looked into your eyes and you nodded, giving him the go ahead. His dick slid in without resistance, causing you to moan loudly and his eyes to roll back.

"Shit, baby, you're so fucking wet," He hissed, starting to thrust slowly into you, "So fucking tight. Fuck s'good."

Eddie's cock filled you, every thrust sending a new wave of pleasure through you. You couldn't help your moaning - thank god Eddie's uncle wasn't home - and you felt like you were almost having an out of body experience. As Eddie started to speed his thrusts up, your hands find their way to the back of his hips, and your nails started to dig in deeper and deeper.

"Yes. Right there. Right there, Eddie. Fuck, you fuck me so good!" You stammered as he hit your walls. He grunted, panting, his hair tickling your face.

"Right there, baby? You like it right there?" He spoke, his voice a guttural growl, "You gonna come for me again, sweetheart? Be a good girl for me and show me."

His words shot through your pussy in combination with his thrusts, the sound of his dick slipping in and out of your wet pussy driving you over the edge. Sloppy kisses were exchanged as one of Eddie's hand found it's way underneath your shirt and bra, fingering a nipple.

"Fuck...I should've taken this shit off before we started." Eddie mumbled, still thrusting. You replied by whipping the shirt above your head, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the ground. Eddie's eyebrows raised and he smirked, leaning down to immediately take your nipple in his mouth. Your back arched and you gasped, one hand pushing Eddie's head down on your tits, and the other pushing his ass down to fuck you harder.

"Harder and you're gonna make me come again." You whimpered. Eddie responded by taking your nipple in his teeth, sucking harder and harder.

You started to see stars. You had never felt this type of pleasure before, and you never wanted it to stop. The combination of Eddie's cock, his mouth, and his words were about to send you careening over the edge.

"Oh, god-"

"Oh fuck, baby. I'm gonna come." Eddie said, his face finding your neck again. The hand on his head found its way to his chin, cradling it. His hair swung back and forth, and his eyelids were half shut, a deep crimson rising in his face.

"Come for me. Come with me-" Was all you were able to get out before one final thrust from Eddie sent you over the edge, causing you to scream his name, your hands finding his sheets and gripping for dear life. Hearing your screams caused Eddie to moan loudly, his whole body tensing as he spilled into the condom. He said your name, not quite as loud as your screams, but with matching intensity.

The only noises that could be heard were panting from the both of you. After a moment, Eddie slid out from inside of you, falling to the side of you and immediately taking you into his arms, kissing the top of your shoulder.

"So..." He finally said, a small chuckle playing on his words. You giggled and turned to face him, looking into his eyes.

"So."

"Now that we've established we're absolutely head over heels for each other", Eddie started, placing a kiss on your forehead, "And we're both incredibly sexually compatible..." Another kiss, "Is it like, totally corny to ask you to be my girlfriend or...no?"

You giggled again, running a hand through his hair, "I don't think so. I'd say yes, i think."

"You think?!"

"I'm kidding!" You laughed, sitting up on your elbow. You started to trace circles on his chest, the air falling back into place again. "So what now?"

"What now?!" Eddie asked. Boasting his best DM voice, he sat up and waved his arms in the air, "There's a whole big beautiful world we get to discover now together!"

You smirked, running a hand down his bare thigh, "But what if...I just want to stay in bed?"

A blush rose on Eddie's face and he smiled, looking at your lips, "Oh, well in that case, there's a lot to discover in here, too."

He reached over to his bedside table and opened the drawer again.

------

Whew, a doozy! What did you guys think?! My first time writing smut but it was just a little idea I had on my mind for a bit so I had to get it out. I love me some cute Eddie ideas.

REMINDER: My inbox is open so please request some stuff because I'm dying to write!

[likeumeanit9497]

metal | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n got a few new piercings, and when her best friend matt asks to see them, she can't say no

warnings: smut; unprotected p in v (bad); oral (fem receiving); masturbation (m/f); phone sex; dirty talk; 18+

notes: hiii guys. i feel like tumblr's flakiest writer ever coming back on here every few weeks with a one-shot and telling u all im gonna be more consistent but then just not being consistent at all. i just started a new college program and it is taking up so (!!!!) much of my time, so ive been barely able to put any time towards writing for funsies. soooo it might take me a couple weeks to put out one shots (sad) while im in this program, but i swear im doing the best i can. i appreciate u all so so so so much, but matt girls this one is for u <33

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

With a sigh of relief, I crawled into bed. It was late, and I was exhausted after a long day of dealing with family shit. The only thing that got me through my day listening to my dead-beat father come up with yet another excuse on why he no-showed at my birthday dinner was the promise that, at the end of the day, I would be able to curl up in bed and forget all of my problems. Now that time had come, and I couldn’t wait to turn on some trashy reality TV show and lose myself in their cushioned world for a little while.

Just as I started the show, I felt my phone vibrate beside me. For just a moment I was filled with dread — thinking that I would be once again pulled back into the drama that was my father — but once I saw the name at the top of my screen, I felt my body relax. Matt was calling.

Matt was my best friend, and he had been for years. Him and I met on the first day of school freshman year, and immediately became inseparable. He was the only person in my life who I ever felt comfortable around enough to truly open up to about my problems. There really wasn’t much in my life that he didn’t know, so of course I had told him last night that I was going to see my father, and of course that was why he was calling. Annoyingly, I felt a smile creep up on my face. I hated that I loved how involved he got with my problems; as if they were his own. I would never admit this to anyone, but it really helped because it made me feel less alone.

“Hey you.” I greeted him after accepting the call. “Hey Y/n.” His voice sounded familiar in my ear, and already it calmed the sea of bad thoughts crashing in my mind. “How did today go?” He asked, keeping his tone light. I knew though that if I could see his face, there would be faint lines of concern etched in his forehead. I sighed. “Exactly like I knew it would. He gave me an insincere apology and weak excuse the way he always does.” Matt stayed silent on the other side of the call, allowing me the time to tell him as much as I wanted. His soft breathing through the speaker, however, comforted me and let me know that he was listening.

“He smelled like a distillery and couldn’t stop slurring his words, yet he was still trying to tell me that he hadn’t drank all week.” I heard my voice weaken, and I hated that I felt a lump forming in my throat over the situation. I hated that I cared, and I definitely didn’t want anyone to know that I did; even Matt. But of course, he knew anyways. I heard an empathetic sigh through the phone. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” I rolled my eyes, doing everything I could to keep the tears from falling. “It’s whatever. It’s not like I’m really losing much, but I did tell him that I’m done for good.” I forced my words to come out smooth, like I didn’t care. And I didn’t, not really.

“That must have been really hard, Y/n. I’m really sorry.” Matt’s words were sincere, and they caused the lump in my throat to grow even bigger. I forced out a laugh to keep my other emotions at bay. “Don’t be sorry. It’s better this way. Maybe now I can finally have peace in my crazy life.” There was silence on the line, and I knew it was because Matt wanted me to go deeper about my feelings, but I couldn’t handle much more tonight.

“Anyways,” I started, blinking away my tears and plastering a corny smile on my face as if Matt could even see it, “How have you been? We haven’t talked much over the past week.” At the change of subject, Matt picked up on my disinterest in the topic of my father, and like the best friend he is, transitioned into our new topic smoothly. “I’ve been good, been working a lot but it’s been on exciting things. What have you been up to? You know, besides today?” I chuckled softly.

“Honestly not much besides work. My boss has been really stressed out since the end of last quarter so I’ve been coming into the office early and staying well past five every day.” I paused, staring up at my ceiling trying to think if there was anything exciting I could tell Matt. Suddenly, I remembered that there actually was something that I had done that was more interesting than just working late all week. “Oh! I also got some new piercings last week.” It was Matt’s turn to chuckle.

“Y/n, how the fuck did you fit more piercings on your body?” I laughed. He was right, both of my ears were filled with every piercing imaginable, and I also had my nose, tongue, and belly button pierced. I had already told him that I would never get anymore facial piercings, and I certainly didn’t have much room on my ears to get more, so I understood his confusion entirely. “Do you want to guess where they are?” I teased, feeling relieved to have something to talk about that didn’t make be absolutely miserable for once. “Sure,” I heard what sounded like a blanket rubbing against the speaker, and I assumed that Matt was now getting comfortable in bed, also seemingly enjoying the light-hearted conversation, “But can I get some hints?”

“Sure,” I replied, “You can ask me three questions.” I heard him smile through the phone. “Okay…” There was a pause as he came up with his first question. “How many did you get?” Without hesitation, I was able to respond. “I got three.” There was another pause, and then. “Are two of them a part of a pair?” I laughed at Matt’s not-so-subtle guess. I had told him months ago that I had been wanting to get a certain pair of piercings for a while, and I knew he was thinking of that exact conversation. “Yes they are.” I replied, and there was a dramatic gasp on the line. “Ouch, you actually got your nipples pierced?” His voice was laced with playful concern, and something else. Intrigue?

“Okay okay, you got two out of the three. One more question left.” I encouraged him. If he was shocked about my nipple piercings, I couldn’t wait to hear his reaction to the third. He was silent again for a moment, surely confused by the third piercing. Nipple piercings weren’t that outlandish for me, and he knew that, but this last one is sure to blow his mind. “Oh god, I don’t know. Is it another body piercing?” His tone sounded so helpless, and I knew he really didn’t have a clue. “It is, yes.” I did my best to contain my laughter at this point, not wanting to give it away.

“Is it a second belly button piercing?” The guess was weak, and by the tone of his voice he knew it. “Nope.” I replied, biting my nails in anticipation. He was once again silent on the phone, and I knew he was officially running out of ideas. After a moment, I decided to give him one last hint. “Think lower.”

A new silence poured from the phone. Before, there was the silence of deep thought. Now, there was a heavier silence that let me know he finally put it together in his head. Below your belly button, there aren’t many places you can get pierced. He knew that just as much as I did. But I didn’t know if his silence meant he was just shocked, or if he was genuinely disappointed in me. For the first time since becoming friends with Matt, I felt nervous that maybe I had gone too far.

“You’re serious?” He asked, finally breaking his silence, and I couldn’t help but release a short, nervous laugh. “Yeah. Why? Did I just delve too far into the daddy-issues stereotype?” I tried to keep my tone humorous, but inside I was actually worried that was true. Did he think I was weird now? Or did the fact that I had a piece of metal pierced atop my bundle of nerves immediately turn me into some dirty whore in his eyes?

“No! Jesus, no Y/n.” His rushed words put a pause on my spiralling thoughts, and I felt myself relax slightly. “It’s just,” In that moment, I wished that I could see his face. At least then I would have better odds of being able to read him instead of just waiting helplessly on the other side of the phone. He was struggling to find the words he wanted to say, and in my mind that meant he was getting ready to give me some sort of lecture. It wasn’t something that he was in the habit of doing, but I had also never done anything as shocking as this before. I began to prepare myself for this lecture, and come up with explanations and excuses for what I had done, when his hesitant words stopped me in my tracks.

“Can I see them?”

I stared at my phone for a second, unsure if I was just hearing things. “You want to see them?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, for clarification’s sake. I was shocked. Even with how close Matt and I are, we had never ever seen each other naked. In fact, there had been no physical intimacy between us other than platonic cuddles every once in a while. I would be lying, though, if I denied ever having moments of weakness. There had been times, when we would have sleepovers after tough days and the heat of Matt’s comforting body pressed against me, where I had wanted to throw all logic aside and press my lips to his. But I never would have done it. Matt wasn’t exactly known for his boldness, and I feared that my bad habit of being spontaneous would absolutely destroy our friendship. But now, he had me questioning all of that.

“I’m curious.” He replied, his tone nonchalant. I still couldn’t tell if he was being serious, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Just as I was about to tell him to stop fucking around, my screen lit up with a Facetime call from Matt. My stomach did a flip. “You gonna pick up?” His voice made me jump, but I cleared my throat and hit accept.

Suddenly, Matt’s face filled my screen. He was in his bed, the only light in his room seeming to come from a faint source; likely his computer screen. His face was so familiar, and the smile he sent me so comforting, that I immediately felt more at ease than I felt before. “Hey.” He said gently, and I laughed at the ridiculousness of this moment. “Hey” I replied before shifting my position in bed nervously. “So you were serious?” I asked awkwardly, and he nodded. “If you’re okay with it, obviously.” I took a deep breath. I was okay with it, of course, but it was just so out of the norm for us that I felt shell shocked.

“I’ll show you nipples first.” I said, sitting up in my bed before grabbing the bottom hem of my oversized t-shirt. I positioned my phone in front of my still-clothed chest, and watched his face on the screen. He laid naturally in bed, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but the way his dilated blue eyes were glued to the screen I could tell that he was feeling the same kind of anticipation that I was. Slowly, I finally lifted my shirt up over my chest; allowing him a full view of my new piercings.

I intentionally left the shirt up to block my own vision, because I couldn’t handle watching him stare at my tits for the first time. In the dark, all I heard was silence for what felt like forever, and I got worried that I had somehow lost him. Cautiously, I pulled my t-shirt away from my eyes, and glanced at him on the screen. He was staring intently; I could see his eyes move from one tit to the other every few seconds, and there was a slight grin across his face. “Wow.” He said finally, still taking them in. “Those are sick piercings.” I stifled a laugh at the fact that he was still trying to act like it was all just about the piercings, and that there weren’t two tits attached to the metal. “Thanks.” I replied, a small chuckle still evident in my voice.

I allowed him a few more seconds of shameless staring before speaking again. “You ready for the third?” I watched as he blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “I can’t wait.” He replied, causing my stomach to do another flip. I brought the phone back up to my face as I laid back down, smiling at him nervously as I pulled my comforter off my lower body. I was only wearing a pair of panties, so I already felt shy when I positioned my phone in between my legs. I used the front camera still, hoping that it would allow him a better view, but hated that you could still see the lower part of my face.

Matt hadn’t moved in his bed since I looked at him last. In fact, it almost looked like his image was frozen. His eyes were still glued to the screen, and he seemed to be barely blinking; as if he was scared that if he did, he would miss it entirely. “Okay, ready?” I asked, using the hand that wasn’t holding the phone steady to grab onto the side of my panties. Even in the almost-dark of his room, I could see him gulp before nodding his head. “Ready.” He replied.

Slowly, I hooked a finger under my panties, and pulled them to the side. In the blink of an eye, all of me had been revealed to Matt through a screen inches away from my core. My eyes veered back and forth from myself in the phone and Matt’s expression. I could see the shiny metal glitter against my pink clit, and watched as Matt visibly struggled to keep his composure. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I felt myself begin to tremble under his shameless stare. I grew nervous, then, that my body would begin to give away how suddenly aroused I became under his eyes. My core was flooding with heat, and I knew that I was beginning to grow slick with my wetness.

“Does it hurt?” He finally spoke, but his voice had changed drastically since I had last heard it. It had dropped nearly a whole octave, and there was a sort of breathlessness to it that was foreign to me. It was the voice of arousal, and that knowledge was enough to drive me crazy. “N-no, it doesn’t,” I replied, using all the strength in me to not squeeze my legs together to relieve some of the pressure flooding my core. “It’s been a week, and these sorts of piercings heal really quick surprisingly. I can touch it and everything.” My last sentence fell from my mouth thoughtlessly, and I immediately felt my cheeks grow hot at my accidental boldness. That didn’t last long, though, because Matt’s next words pulled all that heat right back to where it was before.

“So touch it then.”

It was like all the sense was knocked out of me from his words. I would have thought that my instinct would have been to laugh and roll my eyes before telling Matt to knock it off, but the seriousness of his tone, the sharp blue of his piercing eyes, and gruffness of his voice caused my brain to shut off. Immediately, my hand traveled to my bud, where I began to slowly play with the metal. Although I had been telling the truth when I told Matt that it was fully healed, I hadn’t yet touched myself in this way since getting it pierced, and the new sensation immediately sent pleasurable shock waves through my body. As I began to slowly rub my clit, the metal added a new level of pressure to the nerves that — combined with the adrenaline that came from doing this in front of my best friend for the first time — caused me to throw my head back against my pillows.

“Tell me how it feels.” Matt’s deep voice filled the space around me in a way that made me feel even more erotic, and I released a soft moan. “I-It feels good.” I replied breathlessly, my fingers beginning to move quicker as I squeezed my eyes shut in pleasure. “Better than before?” His question came out slightly choppy, and through the phone speaker I heard the rhythmic shuffling of his comforter. “Y-yes. Much better.” I managed to reply, the thought of what he was doing to himself on the other side of the screen pushing me closer to the edge.

“Look at me.” He commanded, and without hesitation I lifted my head up; looking at him through the screen. He could only see the lower half of my face, but I could see all of his. As I continued toying with myself, I watched him through fluttering eyelashes. Although his face had not changed much — besides the darkening of his pupils and the faint accumulation of sweat on his brow — the repetitive movement of his bicep at the corner of the screen told me everything that I needed to know. “You look so good.” He complimented me, his voice low and gravelly. I moaned in response, rolling my hips slowly as I began to grow antsy with a need that I knew I couldn’t fulfill myself.

The pleasure was growing like a balloon deep inside of me, but my own fingers weren’t enough to reach it. Not now; not when I have a beautiful man that I trust more than anyone else watching me with that dangerously erotic gaze. Just like Matt knows everything about me, I know everything about him. And so I know that, in this moment, he wants the same thing that I do. That’s why I didn’t feel any unease or hesitation when I drew my fingers away from my clit, ran them achingly slow along the rest of my heat, and spoke.

“Please come over Matt.”

It was a request that I had made to him countless times. Those times I was usually close to tears after a long day of dealing with the shitty cards I had been handed in the family department. I needed him then, like I need him now. In those times he never ever hesitated, and this time was no different. In one swift motion, I watched through the screen as Matt lifted himself out of his bed, threw on a t-shirt, and grabbed his keys off the bedside table. “I’ll be there in ten.” Just like my request, his response was the same as always. As I told him to drive safe before hanging up the call, I felt my body vibrate in a way it never had before. I pulled my hand out of my panties and waited in desperate anticipation for the familiar sound of his car pulling into my driveway.

𓆩☆𓆪

Matt arrived at my place in eight minutes, and as soon as I saw his headlights through my window, I sprung out of bed and raced to the door. There was no nervousness, no reluctancy, no questioning whether or not we were making a big mistake; all I knew was that I needed his hands on my burning skin desperately.

I flung the door open before he even had a chance to knock, but Matt didn’t hesitate before pulling me into him and engulfing my mouth with his own. Although we had never kissed before, it wasn’t shock that I felt in that moment; it was the melting satisfaction of familiarity. I practically collapsed in his arms as his mouth moved against mine as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, and relished in the feeling of his hands travelling wildly across my aching body at last.

As he held me gently against the wall, I felt his hardened member press against my core, and I shuddered in pleasurable frustration. In that moment, I could have lost all self control — pulled his pants and boxers down in one movement and slipped his cock into my aching core right then and there — if he hadn’t grabbed onto my ass and lifted me off of the ground. Without removing his lips from mine, he carried me past my entrance way and all the way into my dark bedroom as if he had memorized every square inch of my place.

As he continued to kiss me with hungry desire, he paradoxically draped my body gently against my bed. Leaning over me, his mouth refused to leave mine and his tongue begged me for entrance. I obliged, and our tongues swirled together with comfort; as if they were old friends. The sound of our heavy breathing filled my head, and I ran my hands along his body; allowing myself to feel him in a way I never had before. Each part of him felt familiar — his back, his arms, his stomach — but each new part of him I touched set off sparks of electricity under my fingertips. This was real, and this was good.

It was only after I began toying with the waistband of his pants, and he the hem of my shirt, that our lips separated and we really looked at each other since the moment he arrived. Both of our chests were heaving as we tried to catch our breath, and I gazed up at his darkened eyes for what felt like forever, until a soft smile crept onto his swollen lips. “Hi.” He said, and I released a short laugh realizing that this was the first word either one of us had said to the other since hanging up the Facetime call. “Hey.” I replied, a smile matching his now etched onto my face.

“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the bottom of my t-shirt, and I nodded. “Please.” I replied, feeling no shame in my clear desperation. Matt obliged, pulling the shirt up over my head and exposing the tits he had seen on Facetime not long before. There was a pause, and for the first time since we started all this I felt briefly insecure. That is, until I looked up to his face and saw his jaw physically dropped in awe. He looked like he had fallen into some sort of trance, and mindlessly brought his two gentle hands toward my hardened, pierced nipples. He ran a soft thumb against each piercing, and I hissed at the deliciously taunting sensation.

“Do these ones hurt at all?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but his eyes never left my chest. “These ones do a little, yeah.” I replied, to which his eyes finally fluttered up to my face with slight concern. “But it’s really not that bad.” I added, reassuring him out of fear that he might suddenly not want to continue. This seemed to help, as his eyes made their way back to my chest before his body suddenly began tilting forward. He leaned above my chest, really only centimetres away, and I watched as he placed two small, unbelievably gentle kisses against each hardened nipple. The ecstasy I felt in that moment caused me to release a soft moan, and goosebumps spread across my skin like wildfire, and I suddenly realized that I needed him more than ever.

As if reading my mind, his mouth then began moving slowly down my writhing body. He took his time on my sternum, then the skin below my belly button, then my hip bones, and I felt like I could explode. My hands flew to his hair and I subconsciously tugged at its base in decadent frustration. And then slowly, so, so, slowly, Matt began dragging my soaked panties down my legs. I felt like I could crumble under his gaze, but his eyes never left my newly exposed core. Blinking ever so slowly, he dropped to his knees and grabbed my shaky legs to part them. Once he did, I watched as he groaned softly at what he saw.

I knew without having to look that I was literally dripping from arousal, and that hunch was confirmed when Matt took one finger and dragged it along my slit; collecting the overabundance of fluid. He didn’t even take his eyes off of my centre, he just brought his wet finger to his mouth and wrapped his lips around it; so transfixed by what he saw in front of him that he didn’t even care to make a scene of tasting me for the first time. I had never felt more glorious than I did in that moment, and it was so overwhelming that I could have came just from sight alone.

Slowly, Matt’s mouth inched closer and closer to my clit, before he carefully wrapped his lips around it. Upon the first contact of his warm tongue playing with the cool metal of my piercing, I was hit with a powerful wave of pleasure that shook my whole body. As he picked up speed, swirling and sucking my bundle of nerves, I couldn’t control the sounds that fell from my lips. Moans of pleasure, pain, and anticipation filled the room, and they only seemed to draw similar ones from Matt.

Matt slid two fingers into me with ease, and began pumping them in and out in rhythm with the movements of his tongue. His fingers were curled up to just the place I needed them to be, and I felt what was left of my sanity begin to crumble as I approached an orgasm. The orgasm that I had been desperately needing since our Facetime call. It’s impending presence had taken control of my mind for what felt like forever, and now it was finally threatening to take control of my entire body. Yet, still, I needed more.

Quickly, before the first waves could crash, I pulled Matt’s face away. Immediately, his blissed-out expression quickly changed to one of concern, but before he had the chance to speak, my desperate voice filled the room. “Please Matt, I want to cum with you.” His features softened before understanding flashed in his eyes. Without saying a word, he stood up and began unzipping his pants. I waited in anticipation, watching with hungry eyes as his painfully hard member sprung free from his boxers. Once he had fully discarded his clothes, he leaned down and kissed me so deeply that I saw stars. His mouth tasted like me, and I couldn’t help but slip my tongue past his lips; intoxicated by the combination of me and him on my tastebuds.

I felt his naked member press against my core and I shuddered from pure lust. I was so engulfed in the intensity that I was afraid I would fall into pieces as soon as he slid into me. Breaking the kiss, Matt straightened himself out and grabbed my legs before placing them on either side of his waist. The two pieces of us that needed each other the most right now were just inches from one another. My eyes fell between my legs, and I watched in euphoric awe as Matt grabbed his swollen member, lined it up with my centre, and slowly pushed into me. His movements were so torturously, deliciously slow, my eyes rolled and my head fell back onto the mattress.

On each slow roll of his hips, his cock slammed into my g-spot and made my vision go spotty. I held onto his flexed shoulders like I was drowning and they were my life raft, and I released harsh guttural moans each time my walls stretched; welcoming him graciously. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Matt’s raspy voice fluttered my stomach, and I opened my eyes to come face-to-face with him. He was staring down at my contorted face with a look filled with nothing but pleasure and adoration. His flushed cheeks and dark pink lips gave him a look that bordered on innocent, but there was a certain hint of hard focus in the depths of his ocean eyes that told me he was feeling as good as I was.

Each time he thrusted into me, the soft crest of his pelvis brushed ever so lightly against my new piercing; granting me a new form of pleasure that I had never experienced before. I had been told by other people that the piercing can be intense during sex, but I had underestimated just how intense it would be. I had no sense of control as Matt’s cock continued to drive into me, and I couldn’t help but vocalize how he was making me feel.

“J-just like that Matt, fuck!”

“Your c-cock fills me s-so go-od!”

“H-harder, please baby!”

At my last statement, Matt showed he was listening by suddenly slamming into me harder and faster than I had ever felt before. He grabbed my legs and wrapped them tightly around his waist, and as I arched my back in pleasure he draped one of his arms around it and used the other to hold my jaw; brushing it lightly with his thumb to ensure me that his gentleness had not completely disappeared. His breathing quickly grew more and more rapid, and deep grunts fell from his mouth every few seconds.

I was hit with shockwaves of pleasure upon each of his thrusts, and I knew that my orgasm was closer than ever. I dug my nails into his back and tightened my legs around him in a desperate and subconscious attempt at getting as close as possible to him, and it was clear that there was no stopping the orgasm that was bubbling inside of me. “G-gonna cum Matt.” I squeaked out, rolling my hips up slightly deepen his thrusts even more. “Good girl, want me to cum with you?” His words were in my ear, and even the dampness that his mouth made against my skin added to my unraveling euphoria. Beyond the point of being able to speak correctly, I simply nodded my head frantically.

As I did, Matt released the deep moan that pushed me over the edge. My orgasm took control of every cell in my body, and I cried out in overwhelming pleasure as it tore me to shreds. I felt my body stiffen so much that I was practically lifting off of the bed, and my walls pulsed intensely as I squirted violently all over Matt. Just then, I felt Matt’s body stiffen above me, and his movements became a whisper as he cursed into my ear. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” His moans rang in my ear with each of his weak thrusts, and I felt his twitching cock paint my walls white as he came undone in unison with me.

Eventually, his body stilled completely, and he rested above me as we both caught our breaths and came down from our highs. His cock slipped out of me, and I immediately felt cold and empty in its absence. After a few moments, Matt lifted his head from my shoulder and gazed at me with a soft smile on his face.

“Damn.”

“I know.”

”I mean, that was-”

“I know.”

We continued to stare at each other, both with matching smiles on our faces, until I dissolved into childish giggles.

“What?” Matt asked, unable to keep himself from laughing as well. “What?” He asked again, nudging my shoulder gently as I giggled. “I mean come on,” I continued to laugh, “That was crazy. Don’t you think it was crazy?” I looked at him, starting to feel the first hints of regret now that it was over and we had to go back to being friends. “I don’t think it was crazy.” He replied simply, before bringing his lips back to mine. This kiss was different than the other ones we shared tonight, though. There was no hunger, no lust. There was just love.

He pulled away after only a few moments, and I looked back at him with what I was sure was confusion all over my face. “I have never felt less crazy in my life than I’ve felt tonight.” Matt continued, and I felt my stomach flutter, “Tonight, everything finally feels right.” I felt a bashful smile form on my lips. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel the exact same way. “So,” I started, unsure of how to maneuver this, “What now?” Matt got up.

“Well,” He began, grabbing his discarded t-shirt and using it to gently clean me up, “It’s late and you’ve had a long day, so I think we should get some sleep.” I propped myself up on my shoulders and watched as he began to clean himself next. “And then when we wake up tomorrow, we’ll go get some breakfast and talk about what we both want.” He walked into my adjacent bathroom and started the shower, the way he has done a thousand times before, before walking back to where I was and helping me off the bed.

Once I was on my feet, he placed another gentle kiss against my lips, and I felt my insides melt at the comfort of his touch. “But if I’m being completely honest, which you know I always am, I think we both already know we want the same thing.” I looked up at him through nervous eyelashes, and had to chew my bottom lip to stifle the massive smile that was threatening to take over my mouth. Matt had no problem showing his huge smile, and he tilted his head quizzically in my silence. “Am I right?” He asked, and instead of responding with words, I leaned up and placed a kiss of my own on his lips.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[gracieheartspedro]

How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

description: your boyfriend tommy miller is a cheating bastard. luckily, your brother-in-law joel is nice enough to help you get your mind off of it.

word count: 5.1k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, this is porn, joel is a consent king though!, talk of horrible sex life, cheating, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, pet names

author's note: hey lovers (; I have been teasing this one awhile. i may continue this if you guys like it a lot. this was a request from an anon, i hope they like it!! i'm almost at 400 followers and I was gonna release this when I hit that, but I am too excited to share this. leave me your thoughts! my requests are still open! <3

You and Tommy went way back. You had crushed on him since high school, his charisma was hypnotic and you were hooked the moment he asked for your phone number. You became borderline obsessed. He was the ideal boyfriend. A huge mama’s boy, respectful, and hilarious. 

You hadn’t ever questioned Tommy’s intentions with you. You two even talked marriage. 

It wasn’t until his 26th birthday that you noted a shift in his behavior and when everything officially fell apart. You had just spent all afternoon at his brother, Joel’s, house. You and Joel arranged a surprise birthday barbeque and you were so excited to spend his special day with him and his whole family.

The whole day, you lied and said you were going for a girls day out with your sister, who was newly single. Instead, you and Joel slaved over the stove making Tommy’s favorites. You also decorated the shit out of Joel’s whole house, with the help of his tween daughter, Sarah. 

Joel told him to come over to help with fixing up his truck, but in actuality you all jumped out of your hiding spots and yelled “happy birthday!”

He hardly reacted. He was dazed seeing your beautiful smile peak up behind Joel’s recliner. 

His attitude was distant the whole night. He wouldn’t kiss you, and pulled away every time you went in to wrap your arms around his waist. He drank way more than you expected, tallying up about 10 beers. 

Joel noticed it, too. 

Joel even asked if he should start taking it easy and cool it on the beer. That only pissed Tommy off, which lead you to break up an argument in front of their own mother. Joel was annoyed, noting how shitty Tommy was being towards you. He was ready to fight his own brother on his birthday.

After the festivities and helping Joel with the dishes, you bid the whole family farewell. Tommy was too drunk to drive home, so you knew you would take him home in your Toyota Corolla, telling Joel you’d be back tomorrow to get his truck. 

“Drive safe you two,” Joel said in the driveway after assisting Tommy to the car. Even after Tommy yelled and fussed at him, he still gladly accepted Joel’s help. He knew he couldn’t walk any more than 50 feet. You smiled watching them, happy they could make amends so quickly, and started up your engine. 

The whole ride home, Tommy kept checking his flip phone. The screen would light up into his glazed over eyes and he’d huff in frustration. 

“Everything okay, baby?” You finally decide to ask. 

You glance over in his direction and you could tell he was annoyed by the question. You bite the inside of your cheek, anticipating him to blow up at you next. 

Tommy was not a nice drunk. He would blow up at the drop of a hat. There’d been countless times where he’d pick a fight with you after you picked him up from a bar or a friend’s house. You learned not to talk on any rides home when he was drinking. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

“You want my honest answer?”

Of course, you did. But when he says it like that?

“What is it, Tommy?”

He clears his throat, “I’m fuckin’ your sister.”

You felt your world crashing around you in that instant. You slam on your breaks on a main road, unable to actively drive due to the shocking news. You pull off into an abandoned parking lot, your hands shaking as you throw the car in park. 

“What?”

You didn’t even want to look over at him, your eyes welling with tears. 

“Yeah,” Is all he says, his voice changing, “I’m sick of lyin’. It’s only been a couple times. But she wants to meet back up.”

His drunk honesty was like vomit coming out of his mouth. Constant and sickening. He was so heartless with his words. This wasn’t your Tommy. What made everything so much worse was that it was your fucking little sister. You two didn’t have the best relationship, but you still cared deeply for her. This was the ultimate betrayal. You couldn’t believe that she, of all people, would try to destroy your picture perfect life.

Not so picture perfect anymore.

The soft hum of the radio takes up the air. You felt like you could suffocate with all of the tension. 

“How long?”

He chuckles lowly, “Longer than I’d probably like to admit. Why do you think her ex dumped her?”

You finally turn to him. He looked remorseless, not even batting an eye at your distraught expression.

“Get the fuck out of my car, Tommy,” You say sternly, “I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

“Oh come on baby,” He groans, “At least take me home.”

“Get,” The tears begin to fall, “Out. Now.”

He throws his hands up in surrender, “Fine, don’t want to watch you cry, anyway. Makes me feel like shit.”

He opens the car door and you watch as he stumbles out. He practically falls on the concrete, his footing wobbly from the alcohol. If you were as callous as him, you’d back your car right over him, but instead you sped off as soon as the door slammed shut. 

Your hands are still vibrating, unsure of what to do next, you pick up your phone and dial Joel. 

He answers after three rings. 

“‘Sup, sweetheart?”

His Southern drawl is hushed, like he was trying to be quiet for someone. It was late, maybe he was putting Sarah to bed. 

“Your brother.”

It’s all you could say before breaking out into a deep sob. He becomes panicked, immediately springing into older brother mode, begging you to tell him where you were. 

You finally catch your breath, “He’s a cheating bastard. He fucked my sister and I left him in the old Hecht’s parking lot.”

Joel lets out a long sigh, “Where are you?”

“I’m driving,” You mutter, choking back more sobs you feel coming up, “I can’t go home.”

You knew going home would be painful. All the photos lining your walls of you and Tommy. The pictures with your own sister. All of his belongings scattered all over the house. You knew you’d spiral, untangling the mess and missed signs. 

“Come back to my house,” He suggests, “I’ll go get Tommy and take him home. The back door will be unlocked, just come right in and settle down. Make some tea or somethin’.”

You nod even though he can’t see you. 

Joel was the older brother you never had. He was mature and honest. You had come to him a couple times to analyze Tommy and his behavior. It didn’t happen often, but he was great at advice. You trusted him. He was family to you.

“Thanks Joel,” You wipe your tears, “See you in a bit.”

-

Luckily Sarah was fast asleep upstairs, snuggled up soundly, while you tried to contain your sobs. You couldn’t believe how drastically this evening turned.

Tommy cheated on you with your sister.

The man you were hoping to marry and settle down with? The one who was adored by your parents? The one you told all your darkest secrets to?

You had no clue how he would ever come back from this. And he did it with your sister?

You still could not grasp that it was her. The girl who always came to you for boy advice? Hell, she came to you last week asking about a guy she had be-

It was fucking Tommy. She wanted advice on how to woo your fucking boyfriend. 

You wanted to strangle her too, but who knows what lies he may have been leading. You wanted the whole story, but you didn’t want to open a can of worms so late in the evening. You weren’t going to be sleeping, plagued by your own thoughts and emotions.

You’re curled up on Joel’s couch, using his huge knitted blanket as a cape. You turned on the TV only to give your cries some background noise.

Just when you stop the tears, Joel walks in with this look on his face. Disappointment. Rage. 

“How ya holdin’ up, sweet girl?”

Joel had tons of pet names for you, but that was a new one. He has always called you anything but your actual name. 

“Not good,” You say, choking back more tears. You were practically all cried out, your cheeks were stained bright red. Joel shuffles over to you, dropping his keys down on the coffee table. He plops down on the couch next to me.

“He’s a fuckin’ idiot,” He mutters, patting your unclothed thigh. Maybe it was the words he said that sent goosebumps up your body, not the fact he took a long second to remove his hand from your leg.

“I just can’t… Why would he do this?”

He huffs, shrugging his broad shoulders, “I asked him and he said it’s cuz you ain’t puttin’ out like you used to. Said that your sister came onto him and he couldn’t say no.”

It felt like another stab to the heart. You and Tommy had sex like three times a week. Every time he came inside you and praised you. You on the other hand, never came and had grown sick of having to finish yourself off every time it happened. So yeah, maybe you weren’t the eager youngin’ you were before, but you still fucked him whenever he wanted.

“That’s horseshit! I fuck him all the time. He is just… he’s a fucking cheating bastard. I just can’t believe it was her. Like what man fucks around with his girl’s own sister? He knows better.”

You’re trying to rationalize his behavior in your head. But Joel is not as kind.

“He obviously doesn’t, sweet girl. He…” He drifts off, catching himself for saying how he truly felt about his brother. Once he looks into your puffy red eyes, his tune changes, “He’s a stupid motherfucker for letting a girl like you go. Don’t know much about your sister, but she has some explainin’ to do, too.”

Your heart flutters a bit. Joel’s accent was so much more pronounced when he was angry, it was kind of hot. Why are you thinking that right now?

“I just can’t believe he would do something so… heartless. He didn’t even act sorry, Joel.”

“The alcohol made him bold, that’s for sure. Doesn’t ‘cuse the behavior, but ya know,” He sits back into his couch, “‘m sorry, sweetheart.”

You turn to face him, “Makes me think of the time he accused me of cheating.”

“He accused you of cheatin’? When?”

It was years ago, right after your 21st birthday. Joel and Tommy took you and a couple of your friends out to a club in downtown Austin. You took so many shots, you ended up dancing a bit too close with Joel. It led to a fight you had never brought up to Joel himself, but nonetheless, Tommy thought you had a thing for his older brother.

Sure, Joel was nice. He was a bit more serious than Tommy, always trying to be the rational one. He was an excellent and present father, dedicating his entire life to raising Sarah. He had similar features to Tommy. Tall, dark hair, beautiful brown eyes. When you talked to him, those eyes of his were so laser focused on what you said, sometimes you found yourself stumbling over your words. 

Maybe it was a little crush. 

“It was years ago,” You confess, looking down at your bitten back cuticles, “He thought I had a thing for you.”

His eyes zero in on your lips, like he’s trying to take the words out of your mouth, one by one.

“A thing? What type of thing?”

You shake your head, pushing your face into your hands. This wasn’t something you wanted to talk about, especially not now. But it was distracting you from thinking about what you could’ve done. Instead, you’re reminding yourself of all the shitty things Tommy has done over the years. That “perfect boyfriend” you had in the beginning was falling apart a long time ago. You just hadn’t seen the signs right in front of you. Now here they are, splattered all over the floor.

“He thought you and I had a bit too much fun on my 21st, I don't know! He always acted so weird when I talked about you. You’re like my brother, I would never cross that line.”

The silence in the room was deafening. You finally raise your head, looking at Joel’s contemplative face. 

“Never?”

You stare at him, looking for a smile to crack across his face. Like it was a joke or something.

But it wasn’t.

The air in the room shifted.

“Joel,” You mumble, before his fingers reach up and trace your bottom lip gently, “We can’t.”

“Why ‘cause I’m like your brother, or ‘cause you’re still banking on kissin’ and makin’ up with Tommy?”

It was a fair question. Making up with Tommy was never even a question, though. After being burned so harshly, you didn’t see any redemption. He was done for. Once that confession slipped past his lips, he was as good as gone. 

This would be the greatest revenge. Fucking his brother?

What could you lose?

Joel could be your rebound. Something to ease the harsh sting you still felt in your heart. You start to feel guilty pile in the pit of your tummy. But then you hear Tommy’s words ringing in your head. 

“I’m fuckin’ your sister.”

Yeah, you could use some revenge. 

“You can’t tell him,” You murmur, making sure it’s in a whisper. Even if you wanted this to be revenge, you didn’t want Tommy to know, “Ever.”

“It’ll be between you and me, baby girl.”

You nod, finally accepting his offer. He grabs your legs and pulls you into his lap. You never thought you’d see the day where you would be mounted on top of Joel Miller. His eyes feasted on you in a way that sent tingles straight down to your core.

“I can’t lie, baby girl,” He purrs, his hands tracing you from your thighs all the way up to your shoulders, “I have thought this scenario out countless times.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” His hand finds its way to your neck, “Seein’ you at family barbeques, watchin’ you at bars with Tommy. Always wanted to pull you into a bathroom and get a feel of these,” He runs his hands down your chest, catching the edge of your yellow tank top. Tommy’s favorite color on you. He pulls it down, revealing your white bra underneath. It was your favorite push up, a Christmas present from Tommy. 

He was littering your body, but instead of Tommy’s hands removing every trace of himself away from your body, it was his brother.

Joel doesn’t take note of your dazed expression, he’s too focused on your cleavage spilling over your bra. His fingers trace back to the clasp, his fingers expertly unhooking it. It sent chills down your back, while your boobs fall further out of the bra. He helps you shimmy it off your front, his eyes lighting up when your boobs rest right in his eyeline.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” He groans, his thumb and pointer finger tugging on your left nipple. You hiss, letting yourself get out of your own head for a moment. Your boobs were extremely sensitive, which is why every man you’d ever been with used that to their advantage. Instead of treating your pussy to a good time, they just toyed with your nipples while drilling into you, which usually had you cumming after a couple minutes. Deep down, you wished Tommy had actually gave your pussy the time of day. Eat you out, finger you until you saw stars. But he never had “time for that”. 

His words.

Joel wraps his lips around your nipple, letting his tongue circle around your areola. He uses his open hand to massage your other tit. Once he releases your nipple, he leaves love bites at the swell of your boobs. He groans at your reaction, which was grinding your hips achingly slow across his lap.

“Mmm,” You hum, your hands finding his brown locks, “More.”

“‘m not gonna fuck you here,” He scowls, “Gonna take you to my bed.”

Without warning, he stands up, gripping onto your thighs to take you with him. You yelp in shock, throwing your arms around his neck. 

“I got you,” He states, walking down the hall to his bedroom. You had been in there before, only to grab his wallet one day when you guys were in a rush to get to Sarah’s soccer game. 

It was only slightly messy and smelled like him. Clean laundry and strawberry shampoo. 

You were thrown atop his unmaid sheets, bouncing a bit at the impact. You decide to use the time of Joel crawling onto to the bed, to completely discard your tank top. Joel’s body takes over yours, his one hand propping him up, the other feeling your sides and scooping up your breast. 

“Think I’m gonna take my time with you,” He grunts, his hand finding your short’s belt loops, “Make you forget everythin’ and focus on me.”

You nod, agreeing to his terms. 

He sits back on his knees, tugging down your shorts and thong. He hisses as soon as he notes the wetness on your lacey panties. Once he tosses the items beside the bed, he nudges your knees apart. 

“Damn, baby girl,” He just looks at you completely spread for him, shaking his head in disbelief, “Tommy’s a fuckin’ idiot. Could look at this pussy every minute of every day.”

You moan before you can retaliate, your mind responding to his fingers tracing your slit up and down. You watch him crawl up you, his lips so close to yours. You two hadn’t even kissed yet, instantly going to tearing each other’s clothes off. It felt more intimate, more real. 

He finally leans in, pursing his lips to meet yours. 

Joel was gentler than expected. Tommy was always hurried, his kisses only to warm you up a bit. You never really kissed during sex either, because he always had you doggy, which wasn’t ideal for kisses. 

Joel’s kisses took your breath away. He was slow and methodical, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You finally decide to pull him down onto your naked body, his hips settling between yours. The action made him a bit more eager, as he grinded his crotch into your wet center. 

“Gonna have me cumming in my jeans, sweet thing,” He laughs, pulling away from your swollen lips. He crawls back down the bed, his shoulders resting between your thighs this time. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, hesitantly. 

He smiles again, “‘m gonna eat this beautiful pussy of yours. Unless you don’t want me to.”

You had no real objections, it just something you had never fully enjoyed with anyone else before. You were willing to see what Joel Miller could bring to the table. You nod your head in agreement, letting him rest his hand on your lower tummy, holding you in place for his mouth. He ducks down, pressing small kisses over your clit. His actions already had you writhing under his touch. 

He continues on, gripping your stomach a bit harder as he explores your pussy with his tongue. He switches between sucking and licking, eventually settling with running his tongue in circles inside of you. You were a groaning mess, your hand eventually finding your mouth so you could control the volume. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself with how loud you could be. He stops as soon as you do it. 

“You ain’t gotta do that,” He says, his mouth wet with your slick, “I wanna hear those pretty little moans of yours. Don’t worry about anyone hearin’ ya.”

You take your hand off your mouth and he continues on with his assault on your folds. It’s sending you into overdrive, watching him go down on you. He was so hot, splayed out between your thighs, devouring you whole. 

His exploration ends with him wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking you up like a straw. You couldn’t believe how good the vibration felt. 

You were feeling that heat in your stomach, so as soon as Joel slipped his hand up and began adding fingers inside you, you knew you were done for. He starts with two, fucking you slowly and systematically. He curls his fingers up like a hook, his lips still wrapped around your bud. 

This was it. This is what you were missing. 

Your unrestrained pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Your orgasm hits you like a semi-truck. You reach for anything in your vicinity, which happened to be Joel’s hair and his white sheets. He didn’t let up on you as you came around his fingers, fucking you through it. 

“Holy f-fuck,” You stutter, “Joel what the fuck?”

“We are just gettin’ started, sweetheart,” He states, standing up beside the bed to take his clothes off. His cock was standing at attention in his boxers before he tore them off. 

Tommy was above average, but Joel was well endowed. 

You gape at the view, unable to really form a coherent sentences. 

“You’re droolin’,” He jokes, finding his way back on top of you. You giggle, letting the joke roll of your shoulder, instead of letting it embarrass you. He finds your lips again, kissing you roughly this time. You could tell he was aching for you, his hips finding their way between yours again. 

“Oh,” You say, feeling his tip nudge your folds, “I’m on birth control, by the way.”

“I assumed so,” He states plainly, kissing your neck and chest, “Won’t cum in you unless you want me to.”

You grin, “You’re all about consent, ain’t ya?”

He laughs, “You’re in control here, baby girl. ‘M just here to get your mind off all the shit.”

You have never been so enamored by a man in your life. He was saying all the right things, but you knew in your heart he wasn’t just saying anything. Joel was a genuine guy. He never lied to you or belittled you.

The longer you’re under him the more you start to realize that this is what you’ve wanted all along. 

He brings you back to reality with an feverish kiss, drawing you back to the moment. His hands trail down your side, tickling you a bit. 

“Hey,” You murmur, pulling away from his delicious mouth, “I want to… I uh-“

You don’t know how to say it. To be honest, you and Tommy were in a routine with sex so you didn’t know how to ask to suck someone off. You usually just did it first to get it done and over with. But you felt like you needed to do it for Joel, not out of obligation, but because you wanted to see him squirm under your touch. You have thought about it more than once. 

“Words, sweetheart.”

“Let me suck your dick.”

He smiles, letting out a slight chuckle at your demand. He never thought he’d hear that coming from your mouth. He waits a second, acting like he’s seriously contemplating the offer. 

Of course he was going to accept. 

You sit up, giving him more space to lay down next to you. You crawl over his legs, settling between his calves. His cock was red, the veins so prominent. It was just waiting for you. He tucks his one arm behind his head, propping it up to watch you put on a show. 

“Let me know if I’m doing okay,” You ask sheepishly. You wanted to punch yourself for saying something so stupid. You were never confident in your abilities and you didn’t want to disappoint Joel. 

He nods, watching you grab onto his shaft with your hands, “You’ll do great, baby girl.”

You spit into your hands once you realize you need more lubrication. You crouch more, jerking him off slowly. He is already so reactive, throwing his head back against his headboard.

You begin to tease him, peppering kisses onto his shaft and tip as it leaked. You smile when you hear him hiss at you toying with him. You finally wrap your lips around his dick, sucking in your cheeks as you pull your head back. He was so big you couldn’t physically get your mouth completely down his length. He was girthy, too, which didn’t help either when it came to almost unhinging your jaw to take all of him. 

“Such a good girl,” He praises, taking your hair into his grip, “You ain’t gotta take it all.”

The reassurance was comforting. You didn’t feel any pressure with Joel, which only made him more desirable in your eyes. 

You watch his face twist in delight every time you take him into your mouth, wrapping his cock in your saliva. 

“Keep doin’ that and ‘m gonna cum in that mouth,” His drawl is so buttery and deep, your center literally clenches.

You pull off of him, gaining some confidence in your bedroom talk. 

“Need that done somewhere else.”

He shakes his head, sitting up more to manhandle you up to his lap. As you slide across his body, you feel his wet cock touch your inner thighs.

Your mouth falls open as soon as his hands grab your hips and settle you right over his length. You are on your knees on either side of his thighs, looking down at him and his absolutely spent expression. His curls were standing in all different directions and his eyes were dark with anticipation.

“Want me to do the honors?”

He grabs his cock, positioning it right below your opening. Your lips twitch upward, shaking your head positively.

He lines you up, pushing his hips upward. He is stretching you immediately, the angle making you crumble under his touch already. Your legs practically give out when he’s partially sheathed in you, which causes you just to sit and take the rest of him in you. 

“Oh my fucking god,” You moan out, shutting your eyes to soak in every twitch, “I have never been this fucking full.”

Your eyes fly open, realizing what you just insinuated.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. I knew he wasn’t givin’ you exactly what you needed,” He starts to guide your hips to circle his, “I give you what you need.”

You never expected him to be so confident, but it was so hot. You rested your hands on his pecks and started easing yourself up and down onto his length. His lips flick upward, watching you get yourself off on his dick. He loved watching you like this, just enjoying yourself.

After a minute, he realizes he can’t let you be the only one doing the work. You were so in your own world, riding him and feeling every inch of him. Your blissed out mind gets over taken when he grabs you and rolls on onto your back. He is on his knees as he grabs your legs with both of his hands, spreading you out. He grinds into you, his cock hitting you at a different angle now. 

You moan out, reaching out to grab his shoulders. He takes the hint and dips down to capture your lips again, caging your body between his. He picks up the pace when you start to press your tongue forward into his mouth. You can’t help but whimper at how good he feels. 

“You fuck me so good,” You mewl. He was panting, his hot breath fanning your wildly tangled hair. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, focusing on making you feel good. Every pump inside you brought you closer to that familiar warm feeling. He notices your heat clenching around him, which makes him want to change up his technique. He pushes off the pillows, grabbing your hips and slamming into you at a rate you didn’t know Joel was capable of. 

“God, I can’t believe how fuckin’ good you feel, baby,” He pants, his thumb finding your swollen bud. As soon as he puts pressure there, you’re screaming out. “Mhm, that feel good? This cock better than his?”

“Yes, Joel, oh my god!”

He doesn’t let up. He wants to see you fall apart so bad, knowing those beautiful whimpers will send him into ecstasy. 

“Cum for me, baby girl. Know you’re aching to,” He clenches his teeth, “Let go.”

You have never had your vision go white when you orgasm. It’s like you’re about to see the gates to Heaven. He holds your body, making sure to feel every nerve in your body fire off into euphoria. You don’t even know what you’re saying, you just know it’s an iteration of his name and a bunch of cuss words as you reach your peak.

You were absolutely obsessed. You knew it as soon as the come down brought back your vision and you saw Joel. He was throwing his head back while painting your insides with his cum. He looks so delicious, his entire toned upper body glistening with sweat. 

He had to be the only man in the world, in that moment. 

Once he pulls out, you truly realize how sensitive your core is. You shiver, feeling his cum trickling down your backside. You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. You just fucked your boyfriend’s brother. And it was the best sex you’d ever had in your life. 

You thought you’d feel that all too familiar regret, but instead you just look over at Joel as he flops down next to you. He’s staring at you, a slight smirk playing on his lips. You were trying to find the right words to say to him. He just did the Lord’s work. 

Do you say thank you?

“You okay,” He asks while he runs his hand up your arm, causing goosebumps to litter your skin. 

You grin, “I’m okay.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” 

He was worried you’d go home and see Tommy passed out on the couch where he left him and regret everything. He knew you would probably stay here anyway, but he anticipated you taking the guest room next to Sarah’s. 

But you weren’t going to take the guest room. No, you wanted to spend the rest of the night in his arms. Maybe even go for round two. 

“As long as I get to stay right here,” You purr, taking his hand from your arm. You bring it up to your lips and kiss his fingers, “Right beside you.”

END

[saerins]

─── 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄

+ sae x f!reader | wc 4.9k | content: angst, fluff, some making out, implied sex, stupid teenager phase

notes: sobs this was not supposed to be this long … one of y’all need to stop me from writing about this man !! i love him too much, pls send help </3 extra: this is the song playing in the last scene :’)

summary: sae has few interests, and one of them is you. but sometimes, being special just isn’t enough.

you’ve always been special.

ever since age three when your family moved across the street from where the itoshis lived. ever since age five when you finally gathered the courage to talk to the pair of brothers. ever since age six when sae invited you to play with him and rin. ever since age seven when you cried because someone bullied you at the playground and sae wiped away your tears. ever since age ten when both of you played with paper rings. ever since age eleven when you and sae would talk endlessly at night through the phone and get nagged at by your parents when they found out.

ever since age twelve when you told sae you’d watch him become the best soccer player in the world by his side.

your presence bleeds into sae’s life and he can’t think about anything without relating it to you; like how his breakfast tastes like ass when you’re not smearing your stupid peanut butter on it because apparently peanut better goes well with everything is your phase at that point of time. like how he’s walking home and he’ll always have to crane his head to the right just to check if you’re on your front porch swing, because if you are, he’ll wave and then you’ll smile and wave back, and sae would feel like it’s a special code you two share.

you’re probably the only thing he pays his spare attention to. and rin. you, rin, soccer. that’s all.

you complain way too much, especially at the fact that sae doesn’t smile often. he counters, “that’s none of your business.”

and you tell him one day you’ll be the reason he smiles everyday.

sae thinks it’s kind of stupid though, because you already are. you just aren’t around to see it. he’ll probably never let you see it too. he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he did.

it isn’t long before you’re age fifteen and graduating middle school and you’re excited to start high school. it didn’t really make a difference for sae, as long as he got to play soccer, he really couldn’t care less.

when you’re age sixteen you tell sae that a boy from class broke your heart because he didn’t accept your valentines’ chocolates. it was as good as a rejection, apparently. or whatever girl code says it is.

frankly, sae’s just offended. you’ve never given him any valentines’ shit. all of a sudden some no name guy is getting it?

maybe it’s true what people say, teenage girls cry over stupid things they consider love that’s not actually love. now you’re getting his soccer jersey wet with your tears and you’re crooning on and on about how boys suck but somehow sae’s still the best.

you’re sixteen and crying on sae’s shoulder, while he’s seventeen and wishing he could torture the son of a bitch who made you cry.

this is the closest you’ve ever been, physically. your heart’s not really broken because whoever you’re crying about has never really had it. but sae doesn’t know that.

teenage girls make really stupid decisions sometimes. and other times, they making stupid passing comments, like when you say “glad i didn’t let him kiss me. would suck for my first kiss to be with a dick who didn’t give a shit about me.”

sometimes teenage boys make stupid decisions too.

sae doesn’t really know what possesses him to do this, but he doesn’t stop it. he doesn’t stop his hand from reaching out to you, doesn’t stop his fingers from tilting your chin up. there’s only confusion in your eyes when he looks into them. there’s only hesitation in his.

sae’s not anything to you except for a childhood friend, and you’re not anything to him, except for one of the most beautiful people he’s ever met. that’s why he does this slowly, so you have time to stop this.

he has no right to do this. he wishes you would just stop him.

you’re both teenagers when sae becomes your first kiss, when your tears stain his cheeks and he tastes like the fruits he just ate. you’re both delirious off of the feeling, like neither of you want this to end because your lips stay connected even when you’re not moving, and your lashes are fluttering against one another’s and sae really wants to kiss you again.

but it’s late and your parents are probably the ones knocking on his door right now so he stops himself and pulls away while rin bounds down the stairs to open the door.

sae sees nothing but you, you and your pretty face and your pretty lips and your perfect perfect person.

“there, now your first kiss is with a dick who does care about you.”

it’s that same summer and you’ve forgotten all about the stupid boy that supposedly broke your heart. you have sae with you whenever he’s free, when he decides to bring you out after practice and explore rooftops to find the best view for the fireworks.

you’re not together, but it sure feels like you are.

then it’s autumn and the leaves are turning orange and red, and you swear you see sae’s cheeks and ears turn nearly the same shade when he holds your hand for the first time as you walk through the park, a white cat crossing in front of you.

sae blames it on his practice earlier and that he’s tired because there’s no way he’ll ever admit it’s because of you.

when winter comes, sae’s still taking care of you. nothing stops him from playing soccer, but nothing can stop him from finding you either. sae’s starting to regret his decisions when you force him to go ice skating and look at him expectantly whenever you see a mistletoe.

you’re a lot of work, maybe you’re worth it.

and then you kiss him again and he thinks yes, maybe he can do this. he can juggle soccer and you, it’ll magically work out.

finally it’s spring and you’re excited because you love the cherry blossoms, and sae thinks maybe he loves something else but he’s not going to go there yet. and while everyone’s watching the solar eclipse that one night, sae’s watching you.

for once, he wants to believe in superstitions, wants to believe what watching the solar eclipse means.

“what’s the matter?”

you’re always so perceptive. you’d make a great playmaker, he feels.

of course you pick up on the tension, barely a minute after you walk into his room. sae doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever this is, whether it’s love or something less, or maybe something more.

but it’s not a democracy, and the answer is crystal clear in sae’s mind. his answer’s always been the same, but it’s not like you don’t exist in his world.

“the club in spain gave me an offer.”

that’s all he needs to say to make you understand. and if you weren’t the most understanding person he knows, you might’ve reacted differently, but you’re still the same supportive, kind girl he met at age four.

“when do you go?” your voice is shaky and he knows you’re trying to hold it together.

sae’s sorry, really.

“next month.”

it’s not a lot of time, but probably enough to say goodbye. then you throw your arms around him and you work your magic, you say you want to try despite the distance, despite the unknown timeline. and who is sae if not someone who’d give it a try?

he’s not even sure he can ever say no to you.

it doesn’t seem real until the night before he leaves, because you’re eighteen and standing in his near barren room, everything already packed into boxes and loaded.

maybe it’s the fact he’ll be gone for a very long time, doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. maybe it’s the adrenaline rushing through his veins when he feels you pressed up against him. maybe it’s the fact he’s denying the depth of his feelings for you and it’s getting him frustrated.

or maybe it’s because he’s selfish and he doesn’t want anyone else to have you, just like how he gave you your first kiss.

he’s your first kiss, and he’ll be your first time, with your hands clawing at his clothes. and you’ll be his, with the way he’s grabbing onto your bare back so desperately.

you’re eighteen and you think nothing’s prettier than the sounds sae makes, especially when his lips are right next to your ear, with his hot breath fanning against you.

sae’s nineteen and he thinks you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, in all sense of the word. he thinks you look pretty in pink, still pretty when you wear nothing too.

and suddenly sae thinks that maybe it doesn’t feel so crazy to think that the both of you might make it through this.

long distance can work for some people. but sometimes it’s just meant to drive two people further away.

sae’s gaining momentum in europe, and you’re proud of him. you’re proud of your boyfriend, doing his best and showing off his talents and having his hard work pay off.

you’re really, genuinely happy for him. but the bigger of a star he is, the further away he feels, and maybe it’s selfish of you to want him here, to want him to be just your neighbour itoshi sae like how things started out.

maybe it’s selfish and wishful thinking, but you can’t help yourself.

sometimes sae doesn’t even have time to look at his phone. he’s tired and overwhelmed and understandably too. and you feel guilty everytime you subject him to your insecurities.

but you’re nineteen and you don’t know better.

rin’s not much fun to hang around with, especially when he got more stoic and awkward. he’s like a mirror of his brother, and that may fool a lot of people, except you knew him before that. but you’re not going to butt your head in things that don’t concern you, so you leave him be.

and suddenly the itoshis seem further away than they’ve ever been. for the first time in your life, you’re not sure if trying will be enough anymore.

sae misses you. that’s whenever he has the free time to think, when he’s not hounded by trainings after trainings, when he’s not busy from day to night with whatever new training regime they’ve got him on.

is he aware that he’s probably being the world’s worst boyfriend now? yes. but sae can’t force himself to choose that over his dreams. can’t force himself not to choose soccer.

[17:08] she’s fine, idk what you’re worried about.

rin’s message doesn’t alleviate his worries. sae knows you better than anyone, and he doesn’t believe you’re fine.

[08:08] hey sae :)

[17:34] going to bed now, gn!! &lt;3

sae stares at your message for a while in the locker room, while everyone else is showering. you’ve cooled off on the pet names, you’re worried you’re overstepping. you’re worried he’s lost his feelings.

he’s not.

he’d be crazy to.

but he can’t find the energy to convince himself that this would turn out fine. he can’t convince himself that he’s not hurting you every single day by not being able to be everything you need, by not being able to be physically there for you.

this half-assed relationship isn’t what you deserve. and where he is right now, with his bird’s eye view of the world, he doesn’t know if he can ever give you anything else.

[17:49] goodnight. call you tomorrow.

the moment sae breaks up with you, you feel like that kid at sixteen all over again, except this time you don’t have your favourite person’s shoulder to cry on and this time it’s actually love.

all you can think of when you hear him pick up the phone is that morning right before he left for the airport, how his hair’s a mess and how his lashes are way too pretty and how he sounded when he’s all groggy and tired.

but then he tells you the one thing you do not want to hear, and the illusion is shattered into pieces.

“this isn’t working out.”

“what are you talking about?” he’s silent, and you’re anxious. “we’re fine, sae.”

you can hear him sighing over the phone. you so desperately want to fix this, and so does sae but he can’t think of anything more selfish than to ask you to wait for him until he’s ready—he knows what’s the right thing to do. it sucks, but he’s made up his mind.

“that’s bullshit, y/n,” he responds, calmly, and you feel him slipping further and further from you.

“i- look, i-i know it’s hard but we can—”

“give it a break, woman,” sae chuckles, low and deep, and you’re beginning to doubt that you know him at all right now. “we’re done.”

the dial tone is all you can hear after that.

twenty years old is where you have your first actual heartbreak.

and all that talk about how time heals all feels like bullshit when you’re right in the middle of it all. five days in and you’re still a wreck. twenty days later and you’re still staring at the pictures you and sae took together. a month passes and you’re visiting the places you went to together. just a sad, pathetic girl crying on the benches, reliving what she once had.

three months later you’re still watching his matches on tv. you’re still cheering for him inside. four months later and it’s sae’s birthday and he doesn’t even respond to your birthday message. half a year after the breakup and you finally stop crying when you think of him.

but it’s easy to delude yourself when you’re not in the presence of what you grieve. because eight months after you broke up, you see reports that sae’s dating a sports photographer. the next few days, a picture is released of them kissing in a restaurant.

then you get glimpses of other girls being able to be intimate with him. other girls getting to taste his lips and feel his love. other girls getting his attention when that right used to solely belong to you.

and you’ve never felt worse.

“why so glum?”

sae blinks at the woman, indifferent. he can’t even remember her name.

“nadia,” she says, like she’s reading his goddamn mind, holding her hand out. “i’ve been your team’s photographer for a few months now.”

sae shakes her hand out of courtesy because he really doesn’t want his publicist to chew him out again. “didn’t ask.”

“you know, you’re a lot more crabby these days,” she comments, and it’s like he can see the lightbulb going off in her head. “oh, is it girlfriend issues?”

“i don’t have one, so shut it.”

“come on, i promise i’m good at making people forget.” she says this so seductively that sae’s a little disturbed. he just wants to get this shoot done with and go home, maybe even check up on you a little. all in incognito mode, of course, because he can’t risk you knowing he still cares. can’t risk getting your hopes up.

somehow the stars have spent all their time aligning sae’s soccer career and everything else is in tatters because his publicist forces him to take nadia up on her offer and go out with her.

what was supposed to be a one time thing turned out to be something more. she wasn’t even close to you, but she could be close. turns out when he’s not being such a dick, nadia can be moderately interesting.

different, maybe that’s what he needs.

he thinks back to when she kissed him on their first date. sae still finds himself hoping you didn’t see that.

but no, he’s not in love with you anymore. sae’s officially an adult at twenty-one and he’s still the same stubborn guy in denial because he’s looking at pictures of you while nadia’s sitting right next to him.

it’s not healthy, it really isn’t.

you’re twenty-one now and you’re actually going on a date with the sole intention of trying to get over the one and only itoshi sae.

can you even trust your friend? all you know is that the guy is a friend of a best friend’s and that’s all she told you.

“my best friend’s a good guy, so by extension, so is his best friend,” was all she said.

now you’re here, at the amusement park, waiting for your date to show himself because apparently, in your friend’s bid for suspense, she was reluctant to share anything about him except that he’s dreamy and pretty and that his friend describes him as a genius.

and also “oh, he’s a soccer player too so that’s right up your alley, right?”

when the call from date guy comes in (because to stop you from profiling your date she also didn’t give you his name), you kind of like his voice.

“hey, where are you?”

you find out his name is nagi. and that he’s only here because reo stole his switch and he won’t give it back until the date’s over. which kind of works because you tell him you’re only here because you wanted to get over someone.

to which he says it’s a hassle.

there’s nothing you expect out of this, but then you find yourself enjoying your date.

it’s clear by the first fifteen minutes why nagi chose this place to meet. he’s absurdly good at games. he’s won you tons of plushies that you had to give away to some very happy kids. it’s a pattern; every game that he doesn’t know, he only loses once and then he proceeds to dominate.

no wonder his friend calls him a genius.

with nagi it’s easy, fluid. you’ve been spending the whole night there with him, playing together and eating together—well, mostly it’s just you feeding nagi because it turns out he finds a lot of things a hassle.

three days later, you find out that apparently you’re not a hassle in his books. not really, because he asks you out again.

it’s irrational.

sae shouldn’t be this bothered, but he is. he hates seeing your stupid updates about how you’re on a date with this nagi guy. he hates seeing your posts with the two of you wearing matching sweaters for christmas.

he gives it a like.

nadia’s already gone. sae doesn’t have time or energy to waste on people that don’t matter. and you shouldn’t matter. not right now. but here he is, wishing the circumstances were different.

if you and nadia switched places. if you had something to bring you to spain. it’s fucking selfish, he knows. doesn’t stop him from wishing for it. he can’t think of anyone else like how he thinks of you. doesn’t want to.

he really is clueless about everything outside of soccer, because he’s twenty-two when he realises that no one could ever make him forget about you, and maybe he should just live with it.

sae turns twenty-three when he’s in the running for being the world’s best midfielder. he’s gotten rid of the hopes of moving on and he’ll just fake it till he makes it.

maybe that’s why this year is particularly special to him. or maybe it’s because for the first time in a long while, you wish him happy birthday.

at midnight, in japan. because you’re thoughtful that way.

this time he responds.

thanks. how r u?

it’s criminal how easy it is for you to get his heart beating like this. he sees you typing and it’s enough to lift his mood.

great, school’s kicking my ass though.

sae finds himself wishing that he could hear your voice right now. for some stupidly non-complex reason that he finds completely absurd.

i saw your match last week, good game, genius.

fuck. after all this time, he still wants you.

his fingers type i miss you, just for the hell of it. just to see it there on his screen before he inevitably deletes it and replaces it with something mediocre like thanks or i know.

because he can’t just say that after being the one who broke things off. he can’t do that when he still thinks it won’t work out.

all he does is sigh and hit the delete button—except fuck, he accidentally hit send. and he would’ve deleted it if you weren’t already online and read it and he sees you typing for a moment before you stop completely and go offline.

sae has never felt more numb.

it’s been three months since sae said he missed you. you still can’t get that out of your head. the most upfront he’s been about his feelings and he chooses then of all times to be honest?

when your boyfriend was right beside you?

maybe it was your fault. you didn’t even know why you wished him a happy birthday. maybe you missed him too and was just lying to yourself.

god, maybe you’re the asshole in this after all. did you really love nagi? or was he just exceptionally well at making you forget? you really really like him, that’s all you know.

“hey, what’s wrong?” nagi’s looking at you, pushing his hair back, and you can’t help but think you’re lucky to have him these past few months.

but the turmoil inside you wins, and maybe you understand a little bit of how sae felt that night when he broke up with you.

it’s not fair to nagi for you to do this, but it’s not fair to him either to keep him around.

“we need to talk.”

it’s a surreal feeling, to be back in japan.

sae was nineteen when he left. now he’s twenty-seven when he breathes the tokyo air again. he lugs around his carry-on baggage because he’s not staying here for long. not yet. he’s coming back soon, and he doesn’t really know why. he’s milked everything he could from spain, from the rest of europe, some of the americas, and maybe he’s homesick now.

plain and simple.

the cab driver asks him why he looks so sharp, and he simply says, “wedding.”

it’s been seven years since he broke up with you. and your grip on him is as firm as ever. a grip he’ll never let you know you have on him because he’s made this mistake before—said i miss you and then scared you away.

by the next day he couldn’t even find you online because everything is wiped and maybe you hate him, hate his guts. that’s fine. he can live with that.

to him, you’re still the same lovable person as you were at age five. still the same girl at age sixteen that he fell in love with. you’re still his person and it’s fine if he has to just admire you from afar.

when he arrives, he takes a long hard look around the room, filled with guests socialising and drinking their wines and it’s so pathetic but he’s wondering if you’re still around. he’s late, and it’s his plane’s fault but it’s no use playing the blame game.

“hey,” rin calls out when he sees his brother. “you missed the ceremony.”

“yeah, stupid plane got delayed,” sae says, mind still distracted.

rin formally introduces his new wife to sae and she seems nice, polite, the kind that can put his brother in his place if she needs to. that’s nice. sae can’t help envisioning you in the wedding dress though. you’d look nice.

nicer if he was the one beside you.

“oh! as a gift to my now brother-in-law, i have a friend i want to set you up with,” she grins, and as much of an ass that sae is, he just figures he’ll reject the poor girl later. for now, he’ll entertain his new sister-in-law.

rin claps him on the shoulder before smirking and walking off, presumably to get a drink because no matter how much rin has changed, sae doubts he’ll ever become friendly enough to mingle in this crowd.

sae feels someone poking his shoulder and turns around, first to find his sister-in-law grinning from ear to ear, and next to find you next to her, just like he remembers.

pretty in pink, stupid bashful smile, still fucking beautiful.

“have fun,” rin’s wife says before she walks off with a knowing look. she’s already winning points with sae for bringing you to him.

“hey, genius,” you try to suppress your smile but it’s not working.

he thinks he’s dreaming. he’s not. he’s here. and so are you. and this might just be what he missed all this time.

you hold your hand out and he takes it wordlessly, obediently. sae follows you to the dance floor, trying to calm his erratic heartbeats, savouring the feeling of your hand in his once again, remembering that moment back in autumn when he first felt it.

when you wrap your hands around his neck and he wraps his around your waist, it feels like finally, something is real. like there’s something in this country that can really keep him here this time. because now he’s twenty-seven and he finally understands, he’s always loved you but he’s never been ready until now.

“can’t believe you let your brother get married before you,” you say, sarcasm because you’re breaking into a grin. “he actually beat you at something.”

sae pouts slightly, averting his gaze. “what’s the big deal anyway?”

you shrug. “i’d have thought you’d be the first. maybe with one of the girls you met abroad or something.”

there’s a certain bitterness in your tone that he likes, only because it means you minded all this time. the thought of him with someone else. he suddenly remembers something, and searches the room for a familiar face.

gray eyes meet his teal ones before they turn away, disinterested.

“you sure your boyfriend won’t mind you dancing with your ex?”

“probably not, since i don’t have one.” you smirk, sensing the bitterness in his tone too. it’s funny, seeing sae jealous like this.

he has no reason to though, since you broke up with nagi after being honest with yourself—that you’re not over sae and you probably never will be. you’d decided to just live with your decision.

“shame. thought you guys looked cute in those matching sweaters.”

so that was a jealous like, you think to yourself.

“thought you looked cute with that sports photographer girl too, kissing and all,” you say, though it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “why didn’t that work out?”

for the first time in his life, sae decides to be outright honest with you—

“because she’s not you.” because everytime she said his name, he’d overlay it with your voice in his head. because everytime she’d tried to get close, he’d resent her more for not being you. because no matter how hard anyone tries, they will never be you and that will never work, not for sae.

—to a certain degree.

he’s twenty-seven when he’s finally old enough to understand that it was never a problem with feelings because he’s always loved you all the same all this time. it was just a matter of being ready at the right time. it’s like luck in the world of soccer, where coincidences can only fall to those who are prepared.

and he’s here now. he’s ready.

call him crazy for thinking you’re on the same page because you’re getting closer and closer and closer.

“itoshi sae,” you whisper his name against his lips and he’s reminded of the first time he had you. you drive him crazy and he thinks he’ll keep on letting you. “i missed you too.”

you did. you used to be too young and inexperienced to put yourself in sae’s shoes. too young and naive thinking emotions were enough for two people to stay. sometimes, some things just aren’t meant to be… in the moment. and other times, when you’re both ready, everything suddenly falls into place.

you were sixteen when sae first kissed you. now ten years later, ten years wiser, you kiss again, and this feels significantly better than before. because now you both know.

sae has known you ever since you were three. and he thinks he’ll keep on knowing you, every day, every hour, every minute. he wants to know you forever. and he’s thinking maybe that superstition worked out after all. maybe it was destined to be like this all along.

two people coming together and falling apart only to end up in each other’s arms.

and he thinks fuck superstition, fuck the white cats and solar eclipses and everything else. even if things threaten not to work, this time he’ll make it work.

sae’s known you for so long he overlooked one simple thing. when he kisses you even deeper and is greeted with your lips smiling against his, he knows.

he hasn’t become the world’s best soccer player yet, but when he does, you’ll be by his side.

one day those paper rings the both of you played with when you were little would be real.

you’ve always been special, and you always will be.

now he’s finally home.

[earthchica]

Give In

bodyguard! terry richmond x black fem! (Singer) reader

summary: you are a rising singer in need of a bodyguard, and that is when Terry gets hired. Your first encounter didn’t go well; he was a stern jerk while you acted like a bit of a diva. Despite your disagreements, you both eventually found a way to work through your differences.

warning: angst, teasing, enemies to friends, brat behavior, insults, fluff, poetry, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub kinda, oral (f), protected rough sex, ass slaps, nicknames (baby, baby girl, beautiful)

note: so sorry for the wait! I changed the summary a bit to make it sound better. I had a lot of fun writing this. I just hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I did, haha.

-

Your singing career grew faster than you expected, taking you on an amazing journey to stardom.

However, your new rise to fame has come with pros and cons like stalking paparazzi and crazy fans.

Your manager recommended hiring a private bodyguard. You were initially hesitant, but eventually, you decided to accept the idea.

When you were introduced to Terry Richmond, you couldn't help but think he was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

However, despite his striking looks, he was a complete asshole with a cold demeanor.

For example, at a meet-and-greet photo op, Terry stood at the entrance as each fan walked through.

He patted them down and gave them a rude remark and an intimidating stare.

“Could you please relax your face a bit? And why are you patting them down like airport security? You need to chill; you're scaring all my fans,” You expressed.

"Brenda, where did you find this clown?" You asked your manager, and she tried to reason with you, but you didn't listen.

Terry glanced at you blankly and said, "I'm just doing my job; it's protocol, ma’am,"

“Fucking protocol, this fucking protocol that is it protocol to be an asshole…and what did I tell you about calling me, ma’am? You know, you’re older than me, right?” You asked, and he didn’t respond.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms while patiently waiting for the next fan.

Brenda nudged him on the shoulder and whispered something to him you couldn't hear.

"Look, lady, I'll do my best to appear less intimidating, but I will not tolerate your diva behavior. I'm here to protect you, and protecting your life is serious, which means adhering to protocol. Do you understand?" Terry asked in a softer but still dominant tone.

"I understand, but you need to understand that you are working for me; you can stay on your "protocol shit" but by my rules. Okay," You replied.

“Brenda… I’m sorry, but I can’t work with this,” Terry said, looking at her with frustration, which caused you to look shocked.

"Look at you…running…I thought you were a tough guy, just a clown," You yelled teasing him as he walked out of the room, and Brenda ran after him.

As you talked to your assistant, Chole, Terry, and Brenda walked back into the room. They must have had a talk.

"I apologize for my behavior, miss. I will cooperate with you, but only if you do the same." Terry clenches his jaw, and you smirk, noticing that it probably hurts his ego to say that.

"You know what…It's cool. And fine, I will cooperate," You said, clearing your throat, and oddly feeling slightly aroused.

As the days passed, you noticed subtle changes in Terry's behavior. He started engaging in small talk, asking about your day, and even cracking a joke here and there.

You tried to be less of a bitch and more nice and playful with him. He was still professional but more easy to talk to than before.

Walking together one evening, you paused in front of a quaint little bookstore.

The window display featured a collection of classic novels, their covers slightly worn, as if inviting readers to delve into their pages.

You glanced at Terry, who gave a slight nod of approval, and you both stepped inside.

There weren’t many people inside, thankfully. The smell of old books and polished wood enveloped you, creating a cozy atmosphere.

You wandered through the aisles, your fingers occasionally brushing against the books.

Terry followed at a respectful distance, his eyes still watchful but softer for you.

As you reached the back of the store, you found a comfy armchair tucked away in a corner.

With a contented sigh, you sank into it.

Terry stood nearby, glancing around at the shelves, and you noticed his gaze lingering on a book of poetry.

You pointed it out with a smile. "See something you like, Terry?" You asked curiously in a playful tone.

"Uh," He hesitated momentarily, then picked up the book, flipping through its pages with a surprising gentleness.

"Yeah…I used to read a bit of poetry," He admitted quietly. "It’s been a while."

You nodded, understanding. "Well, maybe today’s the day to start again," You suggested, feeling warm.

“Maybe!”

“Can I ask you what your favorite poem is?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Terry paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "There's one by Langston Hughes that I always liked," He said, voice softening.

“What is it?”

“Uh…The Dream Keeper.' It's about dreams, how precious they are, and how they must be protected and cherished."

You smiled, touched by his choice. "That's a beautiful one. Wow, I wouldn't have thought you would be a guy into poetry."

"Well… that's your problem. You don't know nothing by me," Terry said, a rare, full smile breaking through his usually composed exterior, which fluttered your heart.

"You right…maybe…I should get to know you more on a deeper level." You flirted playfully, looking into his pretty eyes intensely

"How about you? What's your favorite poem?" Terry asked, ultimately shifting the subject.

He was good at that; change the topic whenever you asked about getting to know him.

Terry comes over with the book in his hand and sits next to you. You think for a moment.

"I think I'd have to say 'Phenomenal Woman' by Maya Angelou," You replied as your eyes lit up.

"It's such an empowering piece, full of strength and grace," you continued.

Terry nodded thoughtfully, his fingers gently gliding over the pages of the poetry book.

"Angelou's words have a way of striking right at the heart," He agreed, genuinely interested in the discussion.

“You are a Phenomenal Woman,” He mumbled in a low tone, hoping you didn’t hear him, but you did.

You smirked. “You think so?

“Damn it! nothing gets past you, huh?” He chuckles softly; his little chuckle is music to your ears.

“Do you mean it?” You asked, looking at him, fluttering your eyelashes, waiting for him to respond.

His expression changed from gentle to serious, and Terry stood, stretching a little.

“Let me know when you’ve finished,” He said, glancing over his shoulder as he prepared to walk away, a hint of cold in his voice.

"Wait," You said, stopping him, and grabbing the poetry book from his hand before heading to the front cash register.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his brow furrowed in confusion as he trotted closely behind you.

“I’m getting this for you,” You replied, smiling, handing the book to the cashier.

"As a thank you for cooperating with my attitude. I know it's your job to protect me, and you want to do your job right, but who says we can’t be friends, right?" You added with a smile.

"You didn't have to do that," He said, looking surprised, but a hint of gratitude shone in his light eyes.

"Well, I wanted to," You said simply. Both of you waited for the car inside, and soon, Terry guided you out of the bookstore, shielding you from the paparazzi.

You shivered slightly when you felt his hand on your lower back. The two of you managed to get into the car.

The car ride was quiet, filled with the soft hum of the music and the occasional rustle of paper as Terry thumbed through his new book.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, noticing how his expression softened as he read.

Seeing this side of him was amazing, a reminder that maybe you could get him to open up a little bit.

"Thank you," Terry said suddenly, breaking the silence. "For the book."

You smiled, touched by his sincerity. "Of course, Terry."

He simply nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to the pages of his book.

As he immersed himself in the book, you couldn't help but admire his caramel-brown skin tone emanated a warm glow under the sun shining from the window, highlighting his essence.

You watched his mesmerizing blend of greyish-blue or perhaps hazel-green eyes, depending on the day, move back and forth through the words.

“You know, it’s not nice to stare,” Terry remarked playfully, glancing up from his book.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he offered you a warm, infectious smile—the kind that lingered in your thoughts long after you had seen it.

You looked away, trying to suppress a smile; this man was going to be the death of you if you didn't do something about it.

As months passed, Terry finally began to share his life before becoming a bodyguard. The more you learn about him, the deeper your feelings for him become.

You now consider him a friend. In public, Terry maintained a professional bodyguard demeanor.

In private, he was like a big teddy bear you couldn’t help but want to embrace.

Although spending almost every day together, there was still a boundary he wouldn’t cross with you, and you wanted him to cross it so bad.

Your first global tour was a complete success. You traveled worldwide, singing and meeting your fans; it was a dream come true.

It was around eight at night, and you found yourself alone in your hotel room, wearing pajamas and waiting for room service.

Out of nowhere, a firm knock echoes through the quiet room. You pause, glancing toward the door, and call out to see who it is.

A familiar voice responds—it’s Terry. You invited him in, and he entered with the room service server.

His reassuring presence stood tall as he watched the server set everything on the table before dismissing them.

"Are you hungry?" You asked, your voice slightly hoarse from the last evening's performance.

Terry caught your gaze, his eyes sparkling with that familiar glimmer.

"No, I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure you got your food," He replied, his tone sweet and sincere.

"Come on, are you sure? There’s plenty to share, Terry," You said, motioning toward the spread of food.

"I guess, maybe just a little," He agreed, pulling up a chair beside you.

You both began to eat in a lovely, comfortable silence, but Terry broke it by asking you something.

"I never really asked you this but how are you managing and feeling all of this?" Terry asked, gesturing to this rising fame.

You shrugged, a small smile gracing your lips. "It's been exciting, anxious. I have my moments, you know that,"

"Oh, I know…you still do, bratty attitude and everything," he said teasingly, but stating facts, you playfully hit him on the arm.

"But I'm trying to meditate and stay grounded, surrounding myself with trustworthy people like you and Brenda."

He nodded, a warm grin spreading across his face. "I'm glad to hear that."

"You're doing an incredible job. It's not easy being in the spotlight all the time." He added, his simple yet heartfelt words warmed your heart.

"Thank you, Terry. That truly means a lot," You replied softly, and he gave you a nod with a smile.

After eating, you and Terry began watching a movie in bed, and you unexpectedly fell asleep.

Your head fell on his shoulder, and you began cuddling against him.

Terry removed you from his arm, got out of the bed, and reluctantly prepared to leave, but you stopped him.

"Where are you goin', T?" You whined sleepily, holding his arm tenderly.

"I should let you get some rest," He said, a touch of remorse in his voice.

“No….wait..,” You said, letting go of his arm and clumsily getting out of bed.

You almost stumbled, but he caught you. You and Terry shared an intense gaze before your eyes shifted to his lips.

You leaned in, lust swirling in the air between you. Just as your lips were about to meet.

Terry stopped you and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression serious.

“We can’t,” Terry said, the weight of his words hanging heavily around you.

“Terry, it’s okay. Let it happen,” you said, leaning in closer again, feeling him shift, especially when he didn't push you away.

You kiss his lips softly, and he melts into the kiss, loving the warmth and sweetness of your lips.

Just as you were to rest your hands on his shoulders, a sudden shift occurs, and he gently pulls away, your eyes lingering on his back.

“Fuck, you're making this real hard for me,” He says, moving towards the couch on the other side of the room.

“Terry, don’t you feel this attraction between us? Because I do…I really like you.”

“I-i do but…it’s….”

You moved toward him, knelt before him, and placed your hands on his knees.

“Wrong,” You quietly inquired, your voice barely above a whisper, while pressing your forehead gently against his.

The warmth of your skin is connected with his, creating intimate and intense feelings.

“Because it’s unprofessional, and you work for me. Well, who fucking cares? We're attractive to each other, and we want each other. Let's just say fuck it," You expressed, grabbing his hand and placing it on your exposed wide hip.

You heard his breath hitch as Terry shook his head, trying to resist as he uttered your name, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Come on…Daddy," You whispered softly, heart racing as you just risked calling him that.

Terry tilted his head and grunted his teeth before grabbing your face with his hands and pulling you into a passionate kiss before lifting you up to straddle him.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the feel of his hands on your body and the feel of his sweet, soft lips.

A muffled moan leaves your mouth as Terry's tongue begins to dance along with yours.

He pulls away and starts kissing your jawline and your neck before opening your button-up PJ shirt roughly and your breasts popping out.

"You've been driving me crazy, you know?" He asked, squeezing them and sucking them, causing you to let out a moan.

You gazed at him with intense desire; his dirty talk and the hunger in his eyes deepened your arousal by the minute.

Terry had you stand up with him, and you both began removing each other's clothes.

His breath hitched, feeling you unbutton his pants and push them down to his feet.

"Mmmmm, I thought it was bigger, Daddy. This is disappointing, " You said playfully, aware that you were treading on dangerous ground.

You bite your lip while gently caressing his big, throbbing dick through his underwear.

He grabbed your neck roughly and said, "Oh, is it? You better watch, girl. I'll have you begging and crying for it; I'mma have to teach you a lesson. keep playing with me."

And indeed he did.

Terry smiled up between your legs. You were a hot, crying, and moaning mess who should've shut your damn mouth.

This was your third orgasm; he was working out of you, and you were so damn sensitive.

"Look at you, a fucking mess. Shouldn't have been talking all that shit." He says, plunging his tongue between your wet folds again, seeking out your most sensitive spots.

"Daddy, ahhh, I'm sorry, oh fuck right here," You cried, feeling him spread your legs further apart, slowly sliding in one, then two fingers, pumping in and out fast.

Pressure began building deep inside. "Right there, baby girl?" He asked.

"Yes, ahhh yes!" You moaned, feeling your walls start fluttering around his fingers. 

A third finger slips in, and in one thrust, your body tenses; in two thrusts, your eyes roll in the back of your head.

"Mmm fuck….I'm close, daddy," You moaned softly, gripping the bed sheets tightly while bucking your hip a little bit.

"Cum for me, baby girl." He says, lapping his tongue through your folds, and the orgasm hits you like a bus.

"That's it, such a good girl. Look at you," Terry says, placing your legs down and kissing your inner thigh.

You look at him hungrily while coming down from your high. You watched him get a condom and stroke his dick.

"How do you want me, Daddy?" "You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Terry looked at you, still stroking himself; the way he was doing it was turning you on even more.

"I want you to ride me, but reverse," He said, going to lie on his back, and you climbed on top, reversing yourself to face away from him.

He held your waist with one hand while his legs were slightly spread apart.

You grip his dick gently and slowly slide down, causing you to let out a hiss, just the tip only was just too much for you.

"What's the matter, baby girl? Too big for you?" He asked, playfully teasing you.

"No, I can handle it; I've had much bigger than this," You said, with fake confidence, which earned you an ass slap.

"Watch it, baby girl," Terry said with a growl, and you moaned, continuing to slowly slide down his big dick until he was entirely in you and stretching you out.

"Okay, good girl, you got through that; go ahead fuck yourself on it, do all the work if you can," He said, propped up with his arms behind his head, and a mischief smirk played on his lips.

Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut? You told yourself you could've had what you wanted, but Terry was punishing you for your teasing.

You bite your lip and place your hands between his legs, bouncing up and down slowly.

"Mmmm, fuck, there you go, beautiful girl," Terry groaned, giving your ass another slap; even when he's trying to teach you a lesson, he's praising you.

You adapted to his size quicker than expected, bouncing faster, but this didn't reach your wants.

You tried to keep going, but you needed him; you needed his dick, and you needed him to fuck you and take control.

"Daddy?" You cried, shifted to look back at him, and he smiled with his brow raised.

"Yes, baby girl? Is something wrong?" He asked with a bit of amusement in his tone.

"Fuck me, please. I'm sorry. I need you, I need your dick, please," You begged desperately.

"tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't know…have you learned your lesson?" Terry asked, waiting for an answer.

"Yes, I swear, yes." You nodded desperately, and tears began streaming down your face.

"Nah…I don't think you have, but Imma turn this pussy out and show you when not to play with me," Terry said dominantly, grabbing your waist and thrusting up harshly, causing you to let out a moan.

"Ahh, fuck" You moaned, placing your hands on his chest, watching his length move in and out of you.

This was what you wanted to feel him move in and out out of your pussy, skin on skin, slapping, filling the room.

Your breasts bounced every which way while you cried and moaned in great pleasure for more.

"You like that, don't you? You like me being in control and fucking the brat of you huh?" Terry asked as his hands moved to your hips, grip tighter than before.

"Yes, Daddy, ahh, just like that, ahh fuck me." You moaned, grew in volume, on the verge of being screams of ecstasy.

The pleasure that he was giving you felt so good that the knot in your stomach was exponentially reforming with every thrust.

Terry could tell from how your pussy clenched around his dick. You whimper when he pulls out, but you get excited when he says.

"Turn around. I want to see that pretty little face of yours, baby."

You turn your body, slightly shaking, and quickly, Terry grabs you to flip you on your back.

You bit your lip, watching him slide in, and start thrusting slowly but quickly, picking up the pace.

"Fuck, yes, Terry," You moaned, wrapping yourself around him, clinging to his skin and leaving scratches down his back.

He grabbed your hand and pushed it above your head, pressing his entire body weight against you.

"Fuck, you feel so good, and you look so damn beautiful; look at you, ahh fuck" Terry moans, kissing you first before pulling away to grip your waist tighter and watch your breasts bounce up and down.

You gripped his arms, letting out louder moans as he went faster, harder, and deeper than before.

"Tell me this is the best dick you've have ever had," He growled

"Ahh…this-this is the best dick I've ever had, Daddy," You cried out, making him smirk.

"You love this dick, don't you?" Terry asked, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot.

"Yes. daddy. I love it; I love it so much. Fuck, It feels so so good I'm gonna-! " You screamed, arching your back.

"Fuck, that's it. You're so fucking good, baby. Such a good girl, cum for me," He moans, kissing your lips, and without a doubt, you orgasmed fourth time tonight.

This one was gushing out of you, causing Terry to pull out and hit his dick against your sensitive pussy before continuing to thrust back in until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.

Terry pulled you into a kiss and moaned your name. You loved hearing every sound he made; he thrusted once more and spilled into the condom, falling against you.

Both of you remained there, trying to catch your breath. You stroked his back as he kissed your neck and collarbone.

Terry rolls off of you, throws the condom away, and pulls you close to cuddle.

You caressed his cheek and gazed into his eyes; words were unnecessary. There was much to figure out, but that could wait because this moment was worth it.

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone? 

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞  

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay." 

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 

-

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications. 

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

-

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones." 

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 

That anger got him P3. 

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 

"Can you walk?" 

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't." 

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do." 

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 

 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

-

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions. 

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

-

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 

-

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating. 

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

-

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time,��it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 

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feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

-

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

<3

[roosterforme]

Champ, Sport, Buddy | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You decide to try out a few new nicknames on your husband. He's quick to remind you that there is a short list of names that are acceptable.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, smut

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Based on an ask. Beautiful banner by @mak-32

"Okay, okay, I know it sounds crazy, but I had the best sex of my life the other night. It actually worked."

You were leaning up against the bar at the Hard Deck on Friday night, waiting for Penny to hand you two of your favorite beers, and you couldn't help but overhear the women next to you chatting.

"What exactly did you do?" the brunette asked the redhead. 

The redhead grinned and said, "I called my husband 'Buddy' a few times, and he got annoyed at first, but then he fucked the absolute shit out of me."

"I can't believe it worked!" the brunette replied. 

You looked over to where Bradley was throwing darts, losing abysmally to Hangman. Your husband looked hot. He always looked hot. He was always good in bed, too. But you were curious.

"Excuse me," you said as you turned toward the two women. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't help but overhear. You called your husband 'Buddy' which led to amazing sex?"

"Yes!" gushed the redhead again. "Are you married? Dating someone?"

"I'm married," you told her, glancing again at Bradley as he raked his finger through his hair. He turned and caught your eye, winking across the room. 

"Listen, I'm sure you love your husband, but the male ego is fragile and can only handle so much."

You snorted and shrugged. "Makes sense."

"So all you have to do is play into his insecurities a tiny bit. Make him feel like you've pushed him into the friend zone until he snaps a little. He'll be dying to show you that he's not your 'Buddy', he's your lover."

You pondered that for a moment as you picked up your beers. "Thanks," you told both women. "I'll give it a try."

"Good luck!" they called after you as you took both beers back to the dartboard.

"What took you so long?" Bradley rasped as you handed him one of the bottles. "I missed you."

You rolled your eyes with a smile before you kissed his scarred cheek. "I was just across the room."

He was looking at you like he was almost ready to take you home. "Across the room? That's too far, Baby Girl. I like it when you're right next to me. Where you belong." 

"Right here?" you asked, rubbing yourself against his side. 

"Yeah," he whispered. "Right there."

"The two of you are absolutely disgusting these days," Nat informed you as you kissed Bradley and tangled your fingers up in his hair. "I don't know who let you get married, but this has become distressing." She was smiling at both of you as Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist. 

"We'll just head out then," he told his friend, handing her the bottles of beer you just got. "Have a great night."

Then he scooped you up and carried you outside to the Bronco as you squealed. "You wanna do this here or at home, Baby Girl?" he murmured next to your ear as you clung to him and giggled. 

"Are you serious?"

He sucked on your neck while he unlocked the Bronco, and you ended up having sex on the backseat. You kept your bodies down low, and Bradley had one big palm planted over your mouth. When you looked up at him as you licked his hand, he groaned. 

"Baby Girl. Fuck, Sweetheart. You feel so perfect."

The sex was very good. It was always good. You liked the rush of knowing you could get caught. And when you came on his cock, Bradley filled you with his cum before quickly zipping up his jeans. He looked around, and then helped you climb into the front seat. Once you and he were both buckled in, he pulled out of the parking lot to the sound of you and he erupting into laughter. 

------------------------

But the next day, you were still thinking about those two women from the bar. You wondered if it would work. Because if Bradley was leaving you satisfied nearly every single time, what would the next level be like? Getting him a little extra wound up was always fun for you. You shivered a bit as you thought about it while you made lunch. 

You glanced out the window to where he was pulling weeds in just some gym shorts, occasionally pausing to throw a tennis ball for Tramp. He looked sweaty and delicious, and you knew that he would walk back inside soon, ready for lunch and expecting you to take him to bed. Because he was irresistible to you like this, and he knew it. 

So you made him a grilled cheese sandwich with a little side of carrot sticks, and you waited. When you heard the sliding glass door open and the sound of his shoes on the floor, you took a deep breath to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape. 

"Hey, Baby Girl," he grunted from the doorway. 

"Hey, Buddy. Can you get the hot sauce off the dining room table for me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder, trying your best not to laugh. His brow was furrowed as he leaned against the wall with his forearm, sweaty and shirtless.

"Buddy?" he muttered under his breath before turning back to the dining room. You bit your lip hard, trying to get composure as he brought you the bottle and set it on the counter right next to your cutting board. He was very much in your personal space, palm planted on the edge of the counter, waiting for you to look at him. When you glanced up, he asked, "Is there something you want to talk about, Sweetheart?"

"Nope," you replied, shaking your head slightly. 

"Right," he whispered, taking his plate of lunch when you handed it to him. "Right." You watched Bradley wander into the dining room, and you followed him, pulling out a chair for yourself instead of sitting on his lap. 

After you ate quietly for a few minutes, he set his sandwich down. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"What do you mean, Champ?" you asked, taking a sip of lemonade to hide your smile as his eyes went wide.

"Champ? Baby Girl, are you mad at me?"

"No," you told him, finishing your sandwich as quickly as you could and standing up. 

He was immediately on your tail as you took your plate to the kitchen sink. "I don't want you to be upset with me," he said, caging you in at the sink. "Tell me what I did wrong." He looked a little worried as you shrugged. 

"I'm not upset," you promised. He leaned in and kissed you. It started out sweet, and slowly but surely it progressed to some tongue and his body pressing against yours. He was warm and sweaty, and you wanted more. But you broke the kiss, gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "I need to go get the mail, Sport."

"S-Sport?" he stuttered, following you for a few steps until he was standing in the middle of the living room with his hands planted on his hips. He looked like a confused puppy as you glanced back when you closed the front door, and then you laughed all the way to the mailbox.

"I called him Sport," you said, cackling to yourself as you emptied all the junk mail and bills out of the mailbox. You took the time to make your face neutral again as you walked back into the house, only to find that Bradley hadn't moved at all.

You were sorting the mail in your hands when he closed the distance to you. Apprehension was flowing off of him in waves. "What the hell did I do?" he rasped, and you looked up at him. 

"I already told you, Buddy. Nothing."

He ran a nervous hand through his messy hair. "So, I'm not doing enough? Are we- are we getting divorced or something, Sweetheart?"

You had to try so hard not to touch him or laugh. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you're calling me Buddy! And Sport!"

You bit your lip and shrugged again, taking in his muscular form and shocked expression. "I'm just trying out some new nicknames."

"New nicknames? The fuck? You never call me those things!"

"I just thought I might start calling you things that I would call a friend."

He took a staggering step away from you before gesturing to himself with both hands. "A friend? Do I look like your friend? I am not your friend."

"I thought you said you were my best friend, Champ," you whispered, trying to hold it together as the flushed color on his cheeks grew darker. 

"Of course you're my best friend, Baby Girl!"

You pressed your lips together before you said, "Then I don't see the problem?"

His eyes were wide and his lips were parted as he closed the distance to you and grabbed you a little rough. "You don't see the problem, huh? You ride your friends' dicks like you ride mine? You moan for your friends when you're a horny mess?"

His hands were on your hips as he held you against his semi hard cock. "Well, no-" you gasped.

"No. You don't. I'm your husband. I'm not your friend."

You bit your lip and then whispered, "Okay, Buddy."

And then he snapped. His lips were on yours in the roughest kiss. You had to grab for his shoulders so you didn't trip as he pushed you back against the bannister. His body was heavy against yours as the wood dug into your back. "That's enough," he growled. "There are four names you call me, and Buddy isn't one of them. Neither is Champ. Neither is Sport."

"Four names?" you asked softly, moaning as he sucked on your neck until you squealed. And then he wedged his thigh between your legs, and you whined, "Roo!"

"Yeah, Baby Girl," he whispered against your neck as he started yanking your shirt up. "That's one of them. Keep going."

You looked up at him as he peeled your shirt off and unclasped your bra. When you started to ride his thigh, he brought his hands up to your nipples, stroking softly at first. Then he was dipping his head down and brushing you with his mustache until you cried out, "Bradley!"

"Yeah, I'm your Bradley. Keep going, Sweetheart," he commanded before sucking your nipple into his mouth and unzipping your denim shorts. You were whining so loudly as he ran his tongue in lazy circles and looked up at you. Then he kissed his way down to your rooster tattoo as your shorts and underwear slid down your legs. 

He licked your tattoo before turning his attention to your pussy. When he guided one thigh up over his bare shoulder, you met his eyes and whispered, "Daddy."

Your husband groaned, dragging his tongue and mustache through your wet slit before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. "Daddy!" you screamed, digging your fingers into his hair and scalp to keep yourself upright. The wood against your back was painful where every other part of my body was drowning in pleasure as Bradley ate your pussy. 

"Say it again," he demanded before licking from your opening to your clit over and over while you told him he was your Daddy. "I'm your Daddy," he growled, getting to his feet and scooping you up as well. You were whimpering as he carried you to the steps and set you down on your hands and knees. You could feel the warmth of his body behind you and over you as he gently kissed along your bare back until you were practically in tears, needing more. 

When you wiggled your butt back against his shorts, you could feel him pull his cock free. "You're forgetting one name," he rasped, dragging his tip through your wetness before resting himself right at your opening with a little pressure. Then one big hand wrapped around to your clit and the other found your breasts as he said, "I'll help you remember it."

And then he fucked you, so hard and so good, filling you with each fluid snap of his hips. He bottomed out until you were rocking forward against your hands braced on the steps. 

"Oh god, Roo!" you screamed. He was so rough and yet so fucking sweet when his lips met the back of your neck. 

Then he filled you all the way and stayed there, pushing a little harder still as he wrapped his hand around your hair and pulled. "Fuck!" you screamed as your back arched, pressing him to your g-spot until you were panting and ready to beg. "Please!"

He licked your neck and rasped, "I'm not Buddy. I'm Roo. Got it?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"I'm your Daddy, Baby Girl," he whispered as you whined, stroking his fingers along your clit and yanking on your hair. "But you're forgetting one name."

He started fucking you again in earnest, fingers tapping your clit until you were babbling nonsense. The slap of his thighs against the backs of yours was mesmerizing as he hit every spot just right. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. You're my good girl. So smart," he grunted. "You know what to call me when I'm in charge. You know what to call me right now. You pinned it on my chest."

You were keening as you felt that first delicious clench around his cock, but when you didn't answer him, he eased his fingers away from your clit. "No!" you gasped.

"Say it," he growled, thrusting a little harder. "Fucking say it."

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Then his fingers were right there, and your pussy was clenching as you moaned every variation of his name as you came. But he kept it going, almost to the point of over stimulation, extending your orgasm until your eyes were filled with tears. His fingers were still stroking you as your legs shook, and then finally he was groaning your given name and grabbing your hips as he fucked you until he came in your pussy. 

He collected you in his arms, pulling you up so your back was against his sweaty chest, and he kissed your shoulder. You leaned back as you caught your breath, and he pressed his lips to your ear. "I never want to hear any of that shit again. Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy," you told him with a smile playing on your lips. "Never again."

He kissed you and stroked his hands all over your body. It worked. The women from the bar were right. That was absolutely next level. 

Then Bradley pulled his cock from your pussy as you whined, and he slapped your ass. "Okay, Sport. Let's get a move on. We've got chores to do." You looked back at his smug expression as he pulled his shorts up. "You coming, Champ?"

"Bradley," you groaned, glaring at him. 

You managed to stand on your shaky legs and chase after him, but he scooped you up. "I got ya, Buddy," he whispered with a grin, and you smothered him with kisses until he couldn't talk.

-------------------------

Please, I need someone to try this tiktok on their significant other! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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@xoxabs88xox

[rapunzelbro]

A Sacrifice for a friend Angel Dust x Reader 1

Tw/ extreme angst, implied death, sad shit so be warned. This is going to be one of the imagines that ends up being closer to a full blown fanfic

Masterlist Taglist

1 2 2.5 3 3.5 4 5 6 Statement

If Angel Dust was there 5 minutes before, maybe he would’ve been able to change your fate

Maybe if he stopped you from going out that night he could’ve stopped it

He knew you were reckless, he knew how much you cared but why did you do what you did for him of all demons?

Why the FUCK did you do it

You were Angel Dust’s closest friends, you were there from when he first got to the hotel, you two bounced off each others personalities and it made you two of the most annoying people in the Hazbin Hotel but y’all didn’t give a shit

You knew of his deal with Valentino, all the abuse, sex, movies he was forced to do. How he was forced to sign his life away to him. It was fucked.

You were there all the constant nights he came home bloody and bruised to take care of him, comfort him when production got rough, or when he felt at his lowest.

You were far from redemption and you knew that was a given, the only one you cared enough about was Angel Dust and helping his redemption. He was so close but so far

And helping him meant saving him from the hell he was going through. The contact he signed with Valentino which held his redemption back entirely

You were extremely bothered the few weeks leading up to your decision. You were more drunk than usual and avoided questions on why, when they appeared

Husk felt the shift in your mood instantly, and the intentions you had he was unclear of. You usually always had a bright smile and bubbly personality when you were drunk with Angel, but as the weeks passed, he saw the change and that personality slowly went away even if it wasn’t noticeable

He noticed

You started coming back to the hotel later, you always came back bothered and uneasy, you didn’t talk to the others as much it concerned Husk like hell

Everytime he tried to confront you, you were never there or yelled at him.

When it was time for your decision to be made, you had all of your stuff in boxes. Your room has never been so dull until now. Angel helped you decorate with all sort of pink colors and photos of everyone together, but now? it was just lifeless

Everyone was asleep when you walked towards the exit, except for Husk

“Don’t do anything stupid Y/n”

“I can’t guarantee that Husk”

You giving him a smile before you left to do what you had to do whether you were scared shitless or not

Valentino hearing ‘I want to make a deal’ and he is instantly interested

“What will get you to release the contract on Angel Dust”

You’re straight to the point. You already know the answer, which you’ve been preparing for

“He’s my top money maker~ You’d have to give me your soul in exchange for his freedom”

He has his hand out, his signature glasses slightly positioned down to look you in the eyes with a Cheshire Cat like smile

“Do we have a deal?”

You staring at his hand before grabbing onto it

“Deal”

The moment you say that your arms and legs are covered in thick pink smoke before you’re pulled under

“Y/N WHAT THE FU”

That was the last thing you heard followed by the sound of chains breaking

you were pulled in an empty room filled with the similar pink fog coming from one of Valentinos crushed cigarettes.

While the poison of the pink fog holds you still with the tangible arms, you accepted it, you didn’t struggle when your body gave up on you

You accepted your fate long ago

Angel Dust tag list: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @satansmanager @storydays

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

this may be hard to answer because we don’t actually know the characters too well yet, but what do you think vox and val actually *love* about eachother? it seems like it’s more than just sex between them, and i’m curious to know what you think their relationship is like outside the toxic or sexual parts

Anon, to me it is not hard to answer at all, I think about it constantly 🩵❤️ of course all I write is based mostly on my headcanons and interpretations.

So... What Vox loves about Valentino? First and foremost, he makes him feel free. Vox is very self-conscious; he has a lot of internalized shame that he tries to cover with his grandiosity and fake smile. Valentino is unapologetically himself, and no matter how annoying it can be, Vox admires it. He's like the least judgmental person, and except for his temper tantrums, he's quite chill. Vox can't handle something? Val doesn't care; he still thinks his boyfriend is smart and will figure shit out eventually. Vox discovers he's into some weird, socially unacceptable kink? Great, they can try it. Vox rambles for hours about sharks? Good, he has a passion; Valentino likes people with passion, he will listen, he likes his voice anyway. Vox, who has spent his whole life crafting this perfect narrative about himself, cherishes the opportunity to feel comfortable enough with other people (a lot of these things apply also to his friendship with Velvette) to act like an absolute idiot around them.

Also, I think Valentino can be a really amazing boyfriend - he can be funny, charming, and mindful of the other person. That's his whole thing; he deals with desires, and that's why people get addicted to him so quickly. In most cases, it inevitably ends with him taking absolute control over the other person and becoming abusive. But Vox is his partner, so he gets just those nice bits because Valentino knows he wouldn't be able to put him down like he did with Angel. Not that he'd want to; he likes having a partner who's equal to him, whom he can break only if he allows him to do so (yes, my reading of them is very BDSM-ish, don't @ me). Valentino wants to be loved, he loves the idea of love, surrounds himself with hearts but at the same refuses to adjust to societal norms in the way that makes him unlovable; every person he ever loved (in his mind, his obsessive desire equals love) rejected him eventually after he revealed his true nature to them. But not Vox. Vox accepts him as broken as he is, and despite all his toxicity, Vox is reliable, he's the most stable part of Valentino's life. He has the patience to deal with his mood swings, he can always find the solution when Val messes something up, he's willing to accept all the attention Valentino wants to give him, and he supports his passions (ruining lives, making weird porn and abusing people).

Essentially, their love is largely about finally finding the other person who is as bad as you are, who accepts you no matter what and helps you grow (become an even worse person).

And some additional things:

Valentino really likes how smart Vox is. He himself is impulsive and acts instantly on his urges because violence is always an answer so he's kinda impressed when Vox presents him with some elaborate plots.

Vox loves Valentino's creativity, aesthetic, and attention to detail. He really likes nice things, but he lacks the ability to understand the nuance that is necessary for creating art.

They both enjoy each other's sense of humor.

Vox really likes that Valentino is kinda dumb? He can take care of him, and he likes taking care of people because it allows him to prove himself as The Best Boyfriend. He doesn't necessarily gets the idea of unconditional love, so the fact that he has an opportunity to earn it makes him feel more secure in their relationship. That's also why he loves spoling Valentino with gifts which is perfect because Valentino loves being spoiled.

Valentino likes being a little silly when he's with Vox. At work he can't manage people with his competence, so he does it with fear. But yelling and throwing people around is exhausting; he sometimes wants to bedazzle his gun while watching some trashy reality TV and bitching about his hard day at work. It's okay because Vox is also a little silly.

Valentino generally helps Vox live life more. He helped him come out of the closet (in my headcanon Vox for his whole life struggled with internalized biphobia); shows him that emotions other than anger are acceptable and don't mean weakness; even small things like always insisting on getting nice meals (while Vox could live his whole life on black coffee and rice) or decorating their apartment with fancy yet useless stuff.

They're both power-crazy maniacs, so the idea of being with someone who is widely desired by others and could destroy them if they wished is just so incredibly hot.

Vox | Valentino | What they hate about each other

If you liked these you should definitely check out my fic

[chelseypprimrose]

Home Movie / Negan x Reader / S7 / 18+

Warnings: daddy kink, oral, unprotected/rough sex, slight dom!negan, talk of masturbation, Negan references himself as “the big bad wolf” (cringe but I love it), creampie, forbidden attraction, talk of voyerism, use of derogatory language, glove/leather kink (slightly)

Summary: Negan finds a smut tape of you on the video camera at Alexandria and makes it his mission to seek you out.

A/N: I got this idea in my head while I was watching the episode of season 7 where the saviours first visit Alexandria with Negan and he finds Rick’s confessional video as he’s emptying the houses out. also inspired by another Negan series called Polaroids by @reevesdriver on here as it’s one of my faves ever! 🫶🏼 I just had to write a Negan imagine in the TWD universe again bc as much as I like pre apocalypse Negan, I needed to write apocalypse Negan because there isn’t anything sexier to me than a murderous man swinging a barbed wire bat and talking about his dick, hope u enjoy 🤍 x

“Goddamn it.” You huffed out, a long breath leaving your lips as you shoved the deer that was on your shoulders further up to prevent yourself from dropping it on the ground. You’d been gone since the crack of dawn, with Daryl gone at this point in time, you were one of the best hunters that Alexandria still had. While you felt some type of way about putting in so much effort for someone else to just take the shit you’d risked your life for, you knew Rick needed people on his side at the moment. It would be foolish to try and be defiant right now, too much blood had been spilt recently and you didn’t want to be the reason it continued. Yeah, you’d played your part in the attack on the outpost but you’d all been in acceptance that it was just that outpost. That once that was cleared, you were rid of the foreboding threat that was the Saviours. How wrong you’d been in that moment, it was only the beginning.

You were now dealing with the aftermath of Negan, having to risk life and limb, bend over backwards to make him happy, the asshole. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d had to hold your tongue to stop yourself from verbally berating his people, knowing what the consequences of giving them a piece of your mind would be. You hadn’t been there when he had killed Abe and Glenn, only hearing the horrid, sordid details after the fact.

The blood from the deer that you’d managed to kill was seeping into your white tee, making your shoulders feel sticky and matting up in the tips of your hair. You signalled a high pitched whistle, waiting for the large dark beige gate to be opened, allowing you enter back into Alexandria. Your eyes found the large sign, “Alexandria Safe Zone: Mercy for the Lost. Vengeance for the Plunderers.” You scoffed, how fucking ironic. The gate began to be moved, revealing three large vans parked up just a couple feet away from the entrance, the Saviour vans. “For fuck sake.” You thought, what could that bastard want with you now, you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous.

“Negan, you’ll want to see this.” Negan turned to look at the saviour approaching him, holding out a small silver video recorder. “Well, what do we have here Grimes? Got my fingers crossed for a little freaky deaky!” He grinned, crossing his fingers in front of Rick’s face. He slid his hand into the leather handle of the camera, a video of Rick coming into view, looking a lot more threatening than he did now. He could barely make out it was Rick, with the massive beard grown on his face he wasn’t used to seeing. “Woah! Is that you? Underneath all that man bush? Holy shit, I would have not of messed with that guy… but you aren’t that guy anymore. Are you Rick?” He grinned, Rick stood with a stern look on his face, not moving. Negan continued to watch the interview, Rick speaking candidly about the amount of people that he’d killed. The video started to go static, indicating there was a tape that had been recorded on top of the original. Negan’s eyebrows furred in confusion, before his eyes widened at what the camera had blessed his eyes with. He watched as you were stood in-front of the camera, a light pink lace open cut babydoll set on, your breast sat in the cups, nipples on show for the camera. You started posing for the camera, running your hands through your hair, holding it up Pam Anderson style. A large sexy smile on your lips, turning to do a 180 spin, your smooth backside coming into view for the camera, Negan pulling the camera closer to his face, almost not believing what he was seeing. He didn’t recognise you, maybe it had been someone that used to be in Alexandria, wasn’t a member anymore. He growled lowly, that would be just his luck, the sexiest woman he’d seen in recent history just missed by a couple weeks. He moved his attention back to the camera, now watching you spread out on the bed, playing with your nipples while starting to rub your folds underneath your panties before the camera cut out, showing Rick’s interview once again.

“Fuck! Just when it was getting good!” He cursed, snapping the cameras screen back into place. A fire now in his stomach, his jeans now contracting around his hard bulge. He couldn’t get you out his mind, he knew he’d remember if he’d come across you before, so who the hell were you?

You’d managed to get the deer half way back to your house before being stopped by one of Negan’s minions, asking what you were doing. You ignored him, just wanting to get back, the saviour hadn’t liked that, grabbing you by the waist, dragging you towards the circle of people that were gathered around one of the vans. You could hear Rick talking about some guns that he’d found, apparently Negan thought you were trying to stash items, to prevent having to hand them over to his people.

“Negan. Got a rude bitch here for you, was about to run home, sneak this thing back with her.” You slightly rolled your eyes. “How am I meant to sneak a deer back, smartass?” You questioned, not believing someone could be so stupid. The man’s face contorted into a rage fuelled look, his hand raising up to you, before he had the chance, Negan whistled. “Hey! We don’t raise a hand to a woman, you know the fucking rules.” He stepped forward, now coming into full view of you, his eyes glancing over your body, looking like a kid on Christmas. You were still here, he couldn’t believe his luck. Lucille sat on his shoulder, his one gloved hand wrapped tightly around the bottom of the wood. “Now I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Negan.” He smirked, holding his free hand out for a handshake, his large frame towering slightly over you. You were met with a slight musk, you recognised it as an old spice fragrance, masculine and powerful. You looked at it, questionable look on your face before your hand met his, engulfing you from the size of it. His rough skin a stark contrast from the softness of yours, the movement felt foreign, you shouldn’t feel this way, especially when it’s him.

You saw Rick tensing up as he watched on from the sideline, wondering what Negan was up to, showing such civilness to you. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Y/N.” You stated, his smirk getting wider. “Sir? Oh, you my dear, are like the gift that keeps on damn giving!” He exclaimed, bewilderment sitting on the faces of those around you and yourself. What the hell did he mean by that? “Load em up, we’re leaving.” He commanded, the saviours starting to retreat back to their vans, Negan not moving from where he was stood.

A few of the Alexandrian’s moved away as well, not wanting to be in his presence for a moment longer than they were required to. “Now doll, take that damn thing off your shoulders, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” You reluctantly agreed, placing the deer just behind you, before Negan nodded at two remaining men, them coming behind you to take your prized find. You scowled, fury raging inside your soul, you’d risked your life trying to get just one actual nice, fulfilling meal for everyone, just to have your hard work stolen off you. “I believe that’s mine.” You spat out, the fire showing from your eyes as you glared up at him. “What’s yours is now ours doll, or hasn’t Rick drilled that into you yet?” He asked, aware of the sexual innuendo of his words, his tongue rolling across his lower lip. You huffed, knowing if you talked back further, it wasn’t going to end well for you. You felt like you were tasting blood from how hard you bit down on your tongue, fists balled up.

Negan walked over slightly to the back of the last truck, the doors open, a load of stuff that you recognised from peoples homes in the compound. Picking something up, he walked back over to you, Lucille still sat on his shoulder. You saw the small video camera, not thinking much of it, not knowing there was a tape inside that you probably would have never wanted him to see. He placed it on your chest, it digging into your skin, sat just on top of your heaving breasts.

“You should be careful with such sensitive material, never know what kind of perverts going to come across it!” He joked, your eyes widening in embarrassment as you finally understood what he was talking about. You got a look of disgust rise on your face, you couldn’t believe he’d seen such an intimate piece of film. You went to grab the camera from him before he gripped tight on it, making it harder to move. “Now doll, it’s a good job I found this before any of my men did, you know that right? They would have taken this back with them and sat around in a circle jerk together, I however am returning this to you, soooo… How about a thank you, Negan?” He demanded playfully, leaning closer to your face, nose almost touching your cheek. You gulped shallowly, your hand moving over his that was holding the camera to your chest. “Thank you, Negan.” You managed to get out, the words tasting like poison to you.

He laughed, letting go of the camera, allowing you take it back with a yank. “You are more than welcome, baby. Also, in case you were wondering, you are most definitely my favourite Alexandrian now.” He winked, walking backwards before getting in the truck, holding his head out the window, giving a small wave to you as they drove out the front gates. You huffed, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you held in your throat.

It had now been a couple weeks since Negan’s last visit, he’d sent groups of his saviours in between but never actually visiting himself. You were thankful that this had been the case, you’d found yourself thinking about what could have been. You’d began to let your mind wonder to the scenario of meeting Negan in another situation, you couldn’t help but be attracted to him. He was one of the most attractive men you’d ever come across, it was just a shame he was also the most evil men you’d ever come across.

Unbeknown to you, he’d found himself thinking about you too, that fucking video. He’d managed to score some old age dvd porno films from supply runs over the years but he couldn’t even watch them to get off anymore, only thinking of your little smut tape. It wasn’t even like you’d done anything massively explicit on the tape, it shutting off before it managed to get that far but he had concluded that was probably worse. It allowed his mind to run at all the different possibilities, what did you sound like when you moaned, what would you sound like whimpering out his name as he was filling you up? What did you look like when you reached climax? All these unanswered questions racing through his mind as he got out his sexual frustration on his wives, not caring which one it was as all he pictured below him was you. Moaning out your name instead of theirs, the women not caring that much as they were only there to be used by him, no affectionate feelings connecting them to him.

You were currently in the garage, clipboard in hand, biting on the end of your pencil in anxiousness as you went over inventory. You were expecting another visit today, making you want to double check over everything to make sure there wasn’t any discrepancies in the numbers. That was the last thing you needed, especially since you were now actively trying to get plans in place to take the fight back to the Saviours. You were just finishing up when a loud knock startled you, the garage door vibrating at the motion. You put the clipboard down on the side, bending down to pull the door up.

“Well well well! If it isn’t my favourite Alexandrian. I’ve missed you, doll.” It was Negan, that signature grin on his face once again, eyes raking over your body. You felt sheepish under his wandering eyes, now knowing he’d practically seen you naked since he’d come across that video of yours. You sighed, hands resting on your hips. “What do you need, Negan?” You asked, him walking into the garage now, the door slamming back shut. The anxiety started to kick in as you were now alone with just him, as he looked over the shelves, picking up random items and studying them. “Nothing really, just wanted to see your pretty face. I just cannot stop thinking about you, doll! I wonder why that is, huh?” He laughed, you knowing what he was alluding to. He noticed how you crossed your hands over your chest, almost trying to shield yourself from him.

“Oh no no no! There’s no need for all that, I’ve seen those pretty babies already, you’ve nothing to be ashamed of, doll.” He sauntered over to you, towering over you again like last time, practically feeling the heat from his body on yours. You couldn’t take your eyes off his, the way he looked at you making you get slick. He wasn’t one to hide his true emotion, his jeans getting tighter as he imagined you as he saw in the video, putting on a little private show for him. “I’ve gotta know, what made you film something like that? You must of known someone could come across it, why take the risk?” He questioned you, hand coming to rub over his bearded chin. “In this world, there’s not much opportunity to feel sexy. I just wanted something to look back at when I felt down about myself.” You squeaked out, feeling very intimate. Here you were telling the leader of a rival camp your biggest insecurities, possibly giving him ammunition to further torment you and your people.

“Oh doll, you could be covered in damn walker guts, and I’d still think you were the sexiest thing on this damn shithole planet.” He purred, grabbing you slightly by the chin, making you smile slightly. You shook your head, pulling yourself out of his grasp. “What are you doing Negan? We can’t be thinking like this. I can’t be thinking like this. You… you are the enemy.” Your hands resting on the lapels of his leather jacket, the slight coldness of it sending shivers down your spine. You leaned dangerously close to Negan’s lips, his beard scratching the surface of your skin. “Rick would fucking kill me, he’d fucking kill me, if he knew I think about you the way I do. Think about you when I touch myself, wishing it was you.” You whispered, getting more confident in your tone, your eyes staring at his lips, then back up to his dark eyes, your lips partially open as you let out shallow breaths, anything you could to try and lower your heart rate that was pumping under your chest. The silence in the room was deafening, you started to get nervous again, like you were just waiting for him to recoil away from you and laugh at your confession, that this had all been a massive joke to humiliate you further. “Goddamn it doll, looks like great minds think alike because I’ve been doing the same damn thing since I saw that little treat on that fucking camera.” He chuckled, picking you up in one swift movement, placing you on top of the workplace bench.

“Did you think about me claiming your pussy, doll? Fucking you until you can barely remember your goddamn name? What would Ricky say if he saw you submitting yourself so easily to me, the big bad wolf?” The dark tenor of Negan’s voice caused you to whimper in half fear, half pleasure. You could tell his personality was darkening to the more intense side, the jolly joking and fucking about traits were completely absent. You didn’t feel terrified though, like you did when he committed some of the horrific atrocities in front of you, the feelings of excitement causing your hairs to stand on edge and your pussy getting wet with every word that spilled out of his mouth.

“I did, god I want you inside of me.” You confessed, as Negan’s hands ghosted over your cleavage that was exposed by your tank top, before he pulled it over your head, your breasts spilling out of your lace bra. He shoved his gloved hand into your mouth, commanding you to suck. You obliged, your hands holding his arm in place as you swirled your tongue around the two thick fingers, head bobbing up and down as you did. The leather of the glove rubbery on your tongue, causing you to moan onto his fingers.

He grinned at you, a deep grunt as he leaned over capturing your right nipple into his mouth, suckling it, swirling his tongue around and biting it with his teeth causing you to moan and pull his head against your chest as you kept sucking hard on his fingers. He did it again, giving you light bites and licks, alternating between your two erect nubs. Negan removed his fingers from your mouth with a pop, bring them down to give one final pinch to your nipples, the wetness of his one hand causing the cold air to make your nipple more sensitive.

“Get on your knees, I want to see your mouth full of my dick, doll.” Negan grinned with a wicked smile, his hands undoing his jeans, letting them fall to pool at his boots. You felt your mouth salivate, eager to take him as slid off the table onto your knees. You started to lick him, going from bottom to top slowly, teasing him like he did to you with his dirty sweet nothings in your ears, hearing his low groans. You sucked the precum from his tip and swirled your tongue under his head, and then looked up at him, making sure you held eye contact with him, opening your mouth and taking him in little by little, bobbing your head up and down. Your mouth was being stretched wide, you started to move a little faster, sucking him, licking him, taking him deeper and deeper until you felt him in your throat. He was big, causing you to gag a little as your eyes began to water, your throat starting to get a sore feeling within it as he fucked your throat at a quick pace. He gave a slight gasp and his hand took a firm hold of your head keeping you in place, as his hips bucked, making it his mission to get as far down your throat as possible.

“I need to fuck you now, doll. Get up here.” Negan pulled back to your feet, slamming you stomach down onto the table, almost ripping your jeans as he pulled them down your thighs, your moist panties now on show, one tug and the flimsy material broke in two halves, now fully exposing your slick entrance to Negan. He rubbed his dick up and down your slit eliciting a pleasurable moan from both of you, pushing his length inside and then pulling out and rubbing it down your slit again.

“Please... Negan! Please!” You whimpered out, pinching your nipples, trying to get some relief from his teasing. He smirked down at you, that dark gaze watching your every move. “Please what? I want to hear you saying you want daddy's dick. I want to hear you beg me. Come on little girl, say it.” he demanded as he rubbed his length along your wet slit. “Please daddy! I want you deep inside me, please fuck me!” He groaned and pushed himself hard inside your walls, with no hesitations. You screamed, even being sopping wet, you were too tight around his shaft. He leaned on top of you and started to kissing your neck, biting lightly. Negan felt you getting used to his girth, you started to move your hips against him, wanting friction. He started to thrust in slowly, checking for your reaction to his movements. “I'm fine, please, fuck me daddy!” You moaned out, Negan pulling almost all the way out of you and then thrusting in hard making you gasp.

“You're loving this doll, aren’t you? Yeah, you're loving having my dick inside of you. I’d love good old Rick to walk in right now, see you bent over for the big bad wolf.” he chuckled, turning you on even more. Thrusting again and again building up speed, going faster and harder, just like you had imagined he would in your dirty dreams, but so much better than your imagination. “I'm going to fuck you like the slut you are and you are going to thank me for it.” He whispered in your ear, pulling your hair with one hand and holding your hips firmly with the other as he snapped his groin into you, making your ass ripple with the powerful movements. “I want to hear you doll, thank me.” You almost rolled your eyes at the narcissistic request but your brain was too blank to comprehend it. “Thank you, thank you Negan!”

You focused on the obscene sounds of your bodies echoing around you, amplified by how small the garage was. Negan continued fucking you rough and hard, until you felt the orgasm surging inside of you, building fast and strong. When it finally hit you, you screamed with the intensity of it, your body shook with the pleasure waves, running through your core. Negan released your hair to hold your hips so he could keep fucking you. His thrusts shortened, you clenched around his length, a groan leaving his mouth, feeling him finally release just after you. Negan pulled himself out of you, watching as his cum spilled out of your hole, dripping slightly onto the concrete floor below you. He leaned on top of you, leaving small kisses on your spine, body covered in a light sheen of sweat.

“Y/N! We need you out here! Negan is on his way!” You turned to Negan, a confused look on your face, he’d snuck into the compound to fuck you and now you had to act like he wasn’t even here.

[ivymarquis]

So I was being a lil creep on @391780's blog and saw she'd made a comment about how {Valeria}'s so hot and so mean i just know she'd call a fat y/n something fucking terrible and make fun of her size. and whilst Imma not write any body shaming because that's fucked, my brain did black out at the mention of Valeria being terrible and wicked to Reader and this is what I came back to;

Mean Girl

Pairing| Valeria Garza x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 1.8l Kinks/Content/Warnings| Their dynamic probably isn't healthy but everything is consensual, chubby reader, anal sex, strap on, begging, punishment, name calling, slut shaming, Valeria is not dealing with reader's shit tonight, pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare

Your mother always cautioned you about bad boys growing up. You took one look at them, decided they weren’t worth the hassle and hit the books. 

Which was all fine and well when you finished school with stellar grades and no distracting boyfriends, because it wasn’t boys that caught your attention regardless of if they were bad or not. 

Now a mean girl?

As it turns out that is much more your style. 

How exactly one ventures down the “mean girl” to “cartel leader” pipeline is a mystery for the ages, but quicker than you can blink one moment you’re being introduced to El Sin Nombre’s sicaria, and the next you’re her spoiled little house cat.

Unlike the average house cat though, there’s minimal tolerance for any foolishness or shenanigans in Valeria’s household. 

She doesn’t expect much beyond your blind obedience to her every whim, and you’ve got hearts for pupils every time you look at her.  Absolutely no fucking regard to the fact that you’ve gone from no relationship experience through your schooling years and gone head first into the deep end with no life jacket with Valeria Garza of all people. 

That formal education isn’t doing you much good now.

Not that either of you are complaining. 

Valeria isn’t difficult to live with once you learn her quirks and idiosyncrasies. She is consistent in her expectations- sets the rules, and accepts no deviations from them. Anything less is punished. 

Now, considering the shit she’s probably complicit in if not outright done herself, you get off virtually scott free from punishments compared to others. You’ve still got all your fingers, limbs, and teeth thank you very much. 

But that still leaves a whole spectrum of punishment.

You’ve been on your best behavior- usually stumbling into corrections on accident and learning quickly what mistakes to not make again.

By now you’ve been with Valeria long enough that new relationship jitters shouldn’t be fluttering in your belly every time to set your eyes on her. And yet- She’s just sublime. You can’t help yourself. 

As someone who survived childhood and navigates adulthood by being polite and pleasant (occasionally to your own detriment), it is awe inspiring watching her enter a room and immediately take control of it. So far as anyone around her can tell, the world does in fact revolve around her and anyone stupid enough to not understand that is reminded of their place immediately.

You know that you’re not exempt from the firm grip Valeria keeps on her surroundings, but you manage to muck it up and overstep your place anyway.

“What’s that pretty brain of yours thinking about, Bunny?” she asks one night as the pair of you are reclined on the bed. It’s fairly obvious that she’s the subject of your current thoughts, looking at her like she hung the moon.

You don’t think much of it as you reply “Just thinking I have no idea what you see in me sometimes.”

Valeria makes her adoration of you painfully obvious so it’s not like you have reason to question it, but the pair of you are such polar opposites in every category, from build to disposition, that you’re the pinnacle of opposites attract. You wouldn’t survive a day in her world if it wasn’t readily apparent to anyone who might interact with you that Valeria will personally deliver their severed heads to their grandmothers’ doorstep if they don’t watch themselves. And, well- you don’t really do the self-pity thing because you can be hot and fat at the same time, but Valeria is hot in a conventional way that still boggles your mind when her clothes come off. 

So yes, for multiple reasons you often find yourself wondering how the hell you managed to pull her?

The previously soft, bemused expression on her face is wiped to a cold neutral as her eyes narrow sharply at you. Ah, fuck, you have just enough time to realize you stepped out of line with that comment just as she rolls over and straddles you. 

“If I wanted to fuck someone like me, Bunny, I’d just fuck myself. Perhaps you need a reminder of that?”

Next thing you know she’s got your hands bound to the headboard, ignoring the way you tug at the binds and whine as she works her strap inside your lubed up ass.

“Quit fucking squirming,” she sharply admonishes you, one hand gripping the soft flesh of your thigh for leverage as the other circles your clit to make you relax.

The beauty of a store bought cock is it’s the perfect size, part of why you can’t sit still.

As far as punishments go, once again you are getting off incredibly easy (and if you beg very, very nicely and are very apologetic and repentant you will probably get off in the conventional sense too) considering you absolutely love anal, but you’re sure Valeria already has a plan in mind to make sure she can drive her point home. We don’t want to have this conversation more than once, she’ll tell you.

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you cum without permission,” she reminds you, ignoring the way you whimper as she pulls her hand away from your clit as she finishes working the length of her strap in, her hips pressed flush to the plush of your ass.

“Valeria, please, I’m sorry,” you start immediately, knowing if you want to wriggle your way back into her good graces the sooner you start pleading the better.

“You’re sorry?” she mocks, ignoring the shiver that runs through you as she pulls out just to press back into you again, “We’ll see.”

Her thrusts are slow and measured with just enough force you’re seeing stars as chills run up and down your spine.

“I don’t know where the fuck you get off,” she criticizes in time with the wet clap of her hips to your ass, “questioning me of all people.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” well, didn’t realize she’d take it like that but she’s making it abundantly clear now.

“You didn’t mean to?” she parrots back cruelly as you whine when she presses up against something inside you that has your leg shaking. “You’re such a little slut, look at how wet your cunt is,” Valeria degrades with her eyes glued between your legs, the way your skin glitters in the dim lighting from your own wetness. There’s very little you wouldn’t be willing to do to get Valeria to pay attention to your empty cunt right now, but you also know you’re on thin ice and don’t want to do anything to cause cracks to form in the ground under you.

Your focus drifts towards the knot winding itself up in your abdomen, getting bigger and threatening to grow all consuming with each knock of her hips. Your hands twitch in their binds, tugging uselessly on reflex.

“Since you’re apparently too fucking stupid to remember the rules, I’ll make this simple for you,” she starts shortly- never mind that there’s several pieces of paper hung up on the wall to prove you’re not stupid. “My decisions are without fault- ever. You do what you’re fucking told, when you’re told. I don’t keep you here to think. I keep you here because I like watching the way your whole body bounces on my cock, got it?” The force behind her thrusts increases in increments as she speaks.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble both in pleasure from your ass getting pounded and to answer her. Maybe with someone else the sting of being called stupid (or a slut) would- well, sting. But when you mind your place and the relationship is functioning like it should, you’re happily in a place where you can turn the white noise in your brain off and just follow orders like a good girl. Good girls don’t think, they just do what they’re told.

“I’m sorry” you plea again, hoping that she’ll be more magnanimous now she’s said her peace. “I’m sorry Valeria I won’t do it again,” you promise.

“You’re sorry? Or do you just want to cum?” She lets out an unimpressed huff, hips thrusting in a way that has you squealing and thrashing against your binds.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” It’s embarrassing the way your neglected pussy is dripping down between your legs and God you just want her to ease this unbearable ache inside of you. Your thighs burn from how much they’re trembling as you scramble to appeal to any mercy Valeria has before you cum against your better judgement and really put yourself in a fucking hole.

“Please, please, please- I’ll be good I promise!” you offer desperately. The only thing you can do is focus on breathing, trying with all your might to head off your orgasm.

“Fine,” She sounds exasperated, like she’s doing you such a favor allowing you to cum. “But you take what I give you and you better be fucking grateful for it.” Valeria hisses and no sooner are you nodding your head is she swatting at your cunt- hard.

You yelp at the sudden attention to your clit, and yelp each time she lands another blow to the swollen nub between your legs. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes between how fucking close you are and the sting from her hits.

She’s not entirely without mercy it seems- or she got bored slapping your clit and wants to watch you cum now- as the hand that is striking at you drops to your clit and rubs in tight, short circles just how you like.

Valeria laughs as you flinch in anticipation of the next swing before tensing in pleasure.

You’ve got just enough sense to squeak out “Thank you! Thank you, thank you-” in a mindless babble as your orgasm washes over you wetly. You’re messy when you climax and Valeria loves watching you squirt, evident by her delighted chuckle as you ruin the sheets.

“What kind of nasty whore gets off having her ass fucked, hm? Absolutely shameless,” Valeria goads but you’re fucked dumb and can’t possibly be expected to be paying attention anymore.

Everything gets hazy after that. At a certain point Valeria does decide she’s done with you, pulling out and laughing at how you’re such a twitchy, overstimulated mess.

When you come back to the land of the living, she’s somehow managed to coax you into the tub, the pair of you relaxing in the warm water. She’s got you tucked in between her legs, leaning against her with your nose buried in the crook of her neck.

“You back with me?” she asks, tone soft and gentle as one hand strokes at your shoulder.

“Mhmm,” you hum happily, nosing against her, sated and warm in the tub.

“Good. We’ll see about scrounging up some snacks in a bit, yeah?”

That sounds like a solid plan to you, although at the moment you’re so content in the bubble of warmth she’s got you enveloped in, you could happily stay here all night.

[runninriot]

Say You're Sorry

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

prompt: make-up sex | rated: E | wc: 3.881

tags: sub top eddie munson, bossy bottom steve harrington, edging, orgasm denial, degradation kink (if you squint), steve's being a tease because eddie owes him an apology

complete fic on ao3

Steve knows Eddie didn’t do it on purpose. He knows how bad his boyfriend is at remembering dates, always has too many things buzzing around in his pretty head that it’s hard for him to focus, to filter out what’s important and what isn’t. And in the past two years of being in a relationship with him, Steve has learned to accept this minor flaw. But that he could forget today of all days, still makes him furious.

It’s not his birthday, no. It’s not even their anniversary. Steve could forgive him easily for forgetting those.

Today is way more important.

Today is his first day at his first teaching job – the one thing Steve had been working harder for than anything else in his life. After years of fighting with his parents, of almost giving up, and too many sleepless nights, he’s finally where he always wanted to be.

And Eddie just- forgot.

It’s not like Steve expected anything big, not even a little present or something. But he got nothing. Nothing at all. No ‘Good luck on your first day, baby’ or a cheesy ‘Go, get them, tiger!’, not even an ‘I’m proud of you.’

Instead, Eddie got up particularly late and drank his coffee like he always does, in grouchy silence, before mumbling a lousy ‘See you tonight, baby. Love you.’ and heading out the door.

So, Steve thinks he has every right to be pissed.

And he still is, when he comes home from work, despite the warm welcome he got from his new colleagues and students.

---

   “Hey my love, how was your day?”

Eddie is standing in the kitchen, cooking. For a second Steve thinks maybe he remembered, that maybe he’s surprising him with his favourite meal to make up for this morning. But no, one look over his shoulder shows that it’s not.

   “Good,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie – however oblivious he sometimes is – can instantly sense that something’s wrong.

He spins around and grabs Steve by his waist to pull him closer, kisses the back of his neck and the top of his head before he hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder.

   “Tell me baby, what did I do wrong this time?” He sighs deeply, honest regret in his voice, and Steve almost has pity on him.

Almost.

He peels himself out of Eddie’s arms and turns to look at him.

   “Oh, I don’t know. Let me think.” He taps his pointer finger against his chin and looks at the ceiling, pretending to search for an answer. “I don’t know, Eddie. Could it be that maybe you forgot something?”

He’s being a bitch and he knows it but he can’t help it.

   “For fuck’s sake, babe! Just tell me! You know I’m bad at this. What did I forget? Your birthday’s not for another month and- Oh.”

Steve can see the exact moment it dawns on Eddie.

   “Fuck. Fuck! Shit, baby, I’m sorry! I didn’t- I was- this morning I-“

He knows there’s no use in trying to come up with an excuse. It’s too late for that, the ship has already sailed. Steve’s mad and Eddie is to blame.

   “How was it? Tell me everything! How’s your schedule, your colleagues? Any funny stories about your students?”

It’s almost cute how hard he’s trying and the half sad half pleading look in his eyes is already starting to melt the ice in Steve’s heart.

But he won’t let him get off so easy.

Instead of answering Eddie’s questions, Steve walks out of the kitchen and into the bathroom where he locks the door behind him, just out of spite – they never lock the doors – and starts the shower.

The warm spray is heavenly, makes him realise how tense he’s been all day when he feels his muscles slowly loosen.

And when he’s done, he feels like a whole new man, refreshed and relaxed. Better, he feels better, and he finds that his anger, his slight disappointment has been flushed down the drain together with the stress of the day.

Steve can never be mad at Eddie for too long anyway, he loves that man too much.

BUT- and that’s a big but, Steve can also be a petty brat if he wants to. And he does. Because he thinks that Eddie does deserve at least some kind of punishment.

Something to make up for souring Steve’s mood.

Something he’ll thank him for. Later, when Steve’s done with him.

After more of the silent treatment at dinner, Steve knows Eddie is already close to a breakdown – figuratively speaking. He’s jittery and extra cautious of every move Steve makes, like he already suspects what’s coming for him.

Still, Steve takes his time, makes no attempts to offer Eddie any consolation, just lets him seethe in his guilty conscience for a little while longer – he doesn’t need Steve to give him directions, he’ll figure it out on his own.

Because Eddie, no matter how forgetful he sometimes is, is a clever boy. He’s a good boy, usually. Just sometimes he needs a little reminder, a little... tug at the leash, so to speak, to remember his place.

A place that is currently empty.

But not for long, Steve will make sure of it.

So, this time, when he goes to the bathroom to get ready for the night, the door stays open. Wide open. He undresses slowly, giving his boyfriend a show he knows Eddie can’t resist to watch. And oh, he’s watching. Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, the intensity making his skin prickle.

He’s watching and he’s probably already drooling all over himself, just waiting for his sign.

This is going to be so much fun.

continue reading here

[scoonsalicious]

6.1 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, nudity, Bucky's lies come back to bite his ass.

Please note: I'll be taking a break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th to focus on writing, and will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

Word Count: 1.1k

Previously On...: Porn. The last chapter was porn.

A/N: Sorry, besties; not sure what happened. I set this up to post at 445 per usual, and when I came back on, I saw it still hadn't gone up, so I'm doing it manually. I apologize for this screw up!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Bucky woke the next morning in a tangle of sheets and Major. He had to pee, but he didn’t want to get up. God, he never wanted to get up. If he could stay wrapped up with her like this, for the rest of his life, he thought, he would die happy. The very idea struck him like a brick– he’d given a lot of thought to his own death over the years, but never, not once, did he ever consider the possibility that he might actually die happy until this very moment. 

If she was in his life when he went, he realized, he very well could.

Major shifted in her sleep and snuggled further into Bucky’s chest with a contented sigh, and he felt his heart swell. If he wasn’t careful, at the rate his feelings were going, he was at risk of proposing to her before lunch. 

After about fifteen more minutes of blissfully watching Major sleep in his arms, Bucky couldn’t hold off his bladder any longer. Gently extricating himself from Major’s embrace so as not to disturb her, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom. 

After he’d finished and washed his hands, he made his way back toward Major’s bed. As he passed by the string of clothes he’d discarded the night before, he heard a buzzing coming from his pants. He reached down and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the caller ID.

Lily. Again.

Bucky sighed and took himself back to the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him as he accepted the call.

“Hey, Lil, what’s up?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of Major’s whirlpool tub.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, and Bucky could immediately tell something was wrong. She sounded… off, distressed. “Listen,” she continued, “I know you and Sam probably had a late night last night, and I hate bothering you…”

“What’s wrong, Lil?” Bucky asked, growing concerned now. 

“Well, I drove out to Langston Park to run the trails,” Lily began, “and I don’t know if I ran over a nail or had a slow leak, or what, but when I got back to the car, my tire was flat. I was kind of hoping you could meet me up here and help me change it?”

Bucky ran a hand over his stubble. “Shit,” he said. “You know I would in a heartbeat, Lil, but–”

“No, yeah,” Lily interrupted him. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m sure someone will drive by and I can flag them down for help–”

“Lily Anne McIntyre, you are not going to wave down a stranger and just hope that they’re not a murderer or a rapist,” Bucky said into the phone, a little louder than he intended. “Listen, I’m on my way, but I’m in the city, so it’s going to take me a little while, okay? Just… just stay in your car with the doors locked until I get there.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, Jamie!” Lily’s voice was full of relief. “You’re my hero! I owe you, big time!”

Bucky cracked a smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Give me about forty-five minutes to get to you, okay? And remember, lock. your. doors.” 

“I promise,” Lily agreed before ending the call. 

Bucky stood up from the edge of the tub and went back into the bedroom and quietly put his clothes back on. Sitting down at the edge of Major’s side of the bed, he leaned down and began pressing kisses to her shoulder and collarbone until she stirred and started to stretch. 

With a lazy moan that sent the blood straight to Bucky’s dick, Major sleepily blinked her eyes open. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?” she asked him, her voice seductively husky with sleep. “Come back to bed.”

Bucky wanted to. Oh god, he really, really wanted to. “I’m so sorry, sugar,” he told her, leaning down to give her a proper kiss. 

“Bucky,” she laughed, pulling back from him, “I just woke up; I’m sure I have horrible morning breath.”

“Like I would ever care.” He cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers, gently running his tongue along her lips so she opened her mouth to him. 

After a long moment, they broke apart, and Bucky rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said softly. “But I’ve got to go.”

Major nuzzled her cheek against his. “So, don’t,” she murmured. “Stay.”

Bucky sighed. “I can’t. Lily’s got a flat tire; she’s waiting on me to come help her change it.” 

Major let out a puff of air through her lips. “Well, give me five minutes to get dressed and I can come with you,” she offered hopefully. 

“I’d love that, doll,” Bucky said, frowning, “but Lily’s still pissed off about the bar and…” he ran a hand behind his neck, suddenly realizing how stupid this was going to sound, “I haven’t told her I’ve been seeing you.”

The change that came over Major was nearly imperceptible, but Bucky clocked it, all the same. Her eyes narrowed, her shoulders tensed and she pulled back from him by a hair.

“So,” Major began slowly, “where did she think you were last night when she called you, then? You said you’d already told her what you were up to. If she didn’t know you were with me, what did she think you were doing?”

“I told her I was having a guys’ night out in the city with Sam,” Bucky admitted, hating himself now for even deeming the lie necessary in the first place.

“I see.” The words were clipped, Major’s voice void of any emotion, and Bucky knew he’d fucked up. Immensely. “Well, you better get going, then, if Lily’s waiting on you.”

“Major.” Bucky put a hand on her arm, but she got up out of the bed, dragging the topsheet with her to wrap around herself and keep her body covered from him, as if now, suddenly, after everything they’d already done together, she no longer wanted him to see her naked. “Can we just–”

“You should go, Bucky,” she said again, not meeting his eye, and Bucky felt like absolute shit. 

“Can I call you later?” he asked, and he heard the note of desperation in his own voice, but Major just shrugged a shoulder. He tried to lean in to her to give her a kiss goodbye, but she stood there, still as a statue, so he simply pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed before showing himself to the door.

He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up, and he’d blown it. She’d probably never want to see him again, and honestly, could he blame her? He’d lied about being with her, like she was some kind of dirty secret. Sam had been right, though Bucky would never admit it to him. Why was he letting Lily’s opinion dictate how he lived his life?

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