#every single day I feel such an ache about not being able to make her dinner and bake for her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

colormepurplex2 · 7 months ago

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Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag

↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader ⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend's Husband ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 18,286 ⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, talk of surrogacy, at-home medical procedure, genital touching (non-sexual), planned pregnancy, talk of pregnancy termination/abortion, BIG hurt feelings, open palm slapping, accusations of infidelity

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Jungkook

Jungkook never thought he’d be haunted by such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. A tiny pastel pink line. Singular. Just like all the ones before it. He’s lost count of exactly how many, but it’s been years; every month, the same outcome. A singular pink line telling him he’s failed. He knows that’s a bit harsh, but it’s how he’s starting to feel—like a complete and utter failure.

“We’ll try again next month,” Jiyoon offers, dropping the offending piece of plastic in the bathroom trash before giving Jungkook a tight smile.

“Have you given any more thought to trying IVF again?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, knowing that’s a sore subject. But, dammit, he’s not in the proper headspace right now to think better of it.

Jiyoon glares at him, her pouty pink lips drawing taut. “I told you not to ask me that ever again. Now, get out. I’d like to take a shower.” When Jungkook doesn’t immediately move from his perch on the bathroom counter, she tags on a frustrated, “Please.”

Jungkook hops down, his socked feet swishing over the tiled floor as he retreats into the master bedroom. The door forcefully shuts right on his heels, echoing the hollow ache in the center of his chest. He promised himself that if it didn’t happen this time, he’d just try harder next time.

Yet, there is only so much he can do. Pushing any harder might widen the rift slowly forming between him and his wife. Already, Jiyoon spends more time at work than with him. Her glares of irritation any time he seeks intimacy outside of their strict ovulation schedule are like holes being punched into his resolve.

After nearly two years of trying, he sought medical answers a year ago. Jiyoon was quite cross with him when she found out he went to the doctor, but he needed to know if it was his fault they were having trouble conceiving. The numbers were standard, slightly higher than average even. The utter devastation on Jiyoon’s face, he’ll never be able to forget that day. Because if he isn’t the problem…then that means she is.

It’s his fault. He wasn’t even thinking about that potential. Jiyoon hasn’t been the same since. That’s when the schedule came into play. That’s when she started to pour far more energy into waiting for the perfect moment instead of just enjoying their time together.

Jungkook can see the disappointment, the guilt that eats away at her each time that single pink line reveals itself. He wishes more than anything there was a way to change it, something more he could do. Yet, she refuses to consider the option of IVF, not after the horror story she heard from her friend Dani. She refuses to even talk about it.

There has to be another way; he’s just not sure what it might be. Jungkook is at a loss, and it feels like the weight of the world is sitting heavy right between his shoulders. The shower kicks on in the bathroom, and Jungkook decides to busy himself by making Jiyoon a cup of tea for when she gets out. He knows she’ll want to spend some time relaxing before bed, and tea always helps.

💔💔💔

Not a day goes by that you don’t think about your best friend, Jiyoon, and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her and her husband. It’s not a secret amongst your peers that they’ve been trying to start a family with no luck for several years. It breaks your heart every time she gives you a shake of her head when you look at her with hopeful eyes.

Today isn’t any different. You’re sitting at your desk, absently clicking through the latest portfolio files you got from Namjoon, when Jiyoon walks by your desk, heading toward hers. She’s half an hour late this morning, something that’s pretty routine every few weeks. It’s like clockwork. You’re aware of the ovulation schedule that she and Jungkook keep and know that she allows herself extra time the morning after taking a test to steel herself against the disappointment that will come from the pitying stares in the office.

You catch her eye as she settles into her desk chair, and she gives you that subtle shake of her head. There is tension in her shoulders, and her bottom lip looks like she’s been chewing on it in irritation, but she turns around and gives you her back before you can think to question her about it.

“Morning, Jiyoon,” Namjoon says as he steps out of his office. Namjoon is also well aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jiyoon and Jungkook. It’s why he doesn’t hassle her about being late, something you’re endlessly grateful for.

Jiyoon is your only friend, and you are very protective of her. Well, that’s not entirely true. The protective part is, but she’s not technically your only friend. She’s just the longest friend you’ve had and the one you hold closest to your heart—your best friend. Though, even still, everyone else are really just people you know through Jiyoon or from work. Maybe that’s sad, but you don’t mind it.

“Jiyoon!” Dani squeals from the other side of the office. The bubbly, energetic woman flits across the room, looking every inch like a fairy with her blond pixie cut, petite stature, and buttoned nose.

“Oh gosh, hey. Come here!” Jiyoon swings her chair toward Dani as she beckons her forward, letting you catch a glimpse of her profile. There is a smile on her face, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s strained or not. Jiyoon has always been beautiful, with not a single wrinkle or blemish in sight. Looking at her body language, it’s even harder to tell.

Giggles punctuate their whispered words as Dani crouches beside Jiyoon’s chair, their heads pressed close together. You watch as Dani slips something into Jiyoon’s hand before she stands and waggles her brows down at your friend.

“Have fun,” Dani sing-songs as she prances away from Jiyoon’s desk. Her gunmetal eyes meet yours, and her face sours before she disappears beyond your cubicle.

“What’s that?” you ask a beat after she’s gone and before you can curb your curiosity, tinged with mild jealousy. Dani has made it clear before that she doesn’t like you very much, only tolerating you for Jiyoon’s sake. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t find yourself included when it comes to anything involving Dani—it’s something you’ve chalked up to her own jealousy, perhaps at the fact you’ve been Jiyoon’s friend for so long.

Jiyoon flicks her eyes in your direction before stuffing whatever Dani gave her into her purse. “Just some antacids,” she says, giving you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

All suspicions disappear as you take in the controlled curve of her lips. She looks miserable. “Oh,” is all you can manage before Namjoon calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room.

“Good morning, everyone. Let’s start this week off on the right foot. We have reports to file and new contracts to negotiate…”

You and Jiyoon have always aspired to work for a marketing and media agency together. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you both were elated to land jobs with Kim Exclusives, one of the most popular management companies for up-and-coming artists, models, and influencers.

That was seven years ago, and your time here has only solidified your friendship with Jiyoon. She met her husband, Jungkook, through the agency. He was one of the first models signed to Kim Exclusives, and you and Jiyoon both handled his portfolio and schedule for a year before she had to give you sole leadership over it once they became intimately involved—the whole conflict of interests thing.

“Are we still meeting tonight?” you ask Jiyoon as the day draws to a close. She’s still diligently working away at her computer, and you stand outside her cubicle with your bag on your shoulder.

“Hmm? Oh. Umm, yeah, I guess. I might be a bit late, though.”

You peek over her shoulder. “Is that the new Song profile?”

“Yep,” she pops the end of the word, keying you into thinking she's not in the mood to chat right now.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you guys later then.”

Jiyoon makes a noncommittal sound, already focused back on her work. You miss the days when she would give you more than a few passing words. Even on her good days, it seems like she’s growing further and further away from you. It’s hard not to feel guilty over the bitter and lonely feelings you get when you think about it. It’s not Jiyoon’s fault that you don’t have more close friends to turn to. But sometimes you wish you meant as much to her as she does to you.

As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you mentally kick yourself. It’s not fair for you to think that. You know Jiyoon cares for you; she’s just had a rough few years, and you shouldn’t be making it about yourself.

Feeling truly like a shit friend, you continue to chastise yourself over the next two hours as you commute home and get ready for tonight. Five minutes away from the pub, you consider calling Jiyoon and canceling. But, just as you pull out your phone to do that, someone calls your name from down the sidewalk.

You turn to see Taehyung and Jungkook waving at you from across the street. Well, there goes your intention to cancel.

“Hey! Have you heard from Jiyoon?” Jungkook asks as he and Taehyung jog across the street.

You press your lips into a thin line, confused. “Did she not come home?”

“Ah, no. She said she was working late and that I should just go ahead and meet up with you and Taehyung. She’s, uh, well, she’s not answering my calls. We—this morning…sorry, just, have you talked to her?”

Doing your best to keep your eyes on his, you give him an honest answer, “She was still working when I left the office. I haven’t heard from her since.” Losing the battle against your will, your eyes sweep over your best friend’s husband. He’s just as gorgeous as he always has been. His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, licking at the collar of his denim jacket. As the lead on his contract, you know he recently landed a massive campaign with a new clothing company, their emblem stitched onto the breast of the coat. Jungkook looks every inch the model he is; his friend no less so.

“Hey! Happy Birthday!” Taehyung greets you as your eyes swing to him.

Warm embarrassment kisses your cheeks. You hate your birthday; you hate being the center of attention. “Thanks,” you murmur, giving him a tight smile.

“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jungkook tacks on. He rubs the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic look. “Should we go ahead and go inside?”

“Yeah, sure.” As Taehyung leads the way inside, you type out a quick text to Jiyoon asking how long she’ll be.

Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in a mildly withdrawn personal bubble of silence as Jungkook and Taehyung chat about work and sip on fingers of liquor. You’re normally not so silent with them, as they have been clients of yours for years but you’ve also grown to think of them as friends. It’s just you have a lot on your plate right now, Namjoon just added three new clients to your work portfolio, putting you at juggling almost a dozen. You don’t mind the added workload, it helps keep you busy, but it does mean you have to switch around your schedule a great deal and have less time to spend with Jungkook and Taehyung who are two of the longest portfolios you’ve managed. They have a joint ad campaign coming up for the whiskey they’re sampling right now and are trying to decide if they actually like it or not.

Over the years, you've learned that advertisements are just that—a cleverly crafted piece of media to highlight a product. The models in a hamburger ad could very well be vegan, but they’re paid to make you believe otherwise. So, even if they decide they don’t like the whiskey, money will say they do.

Taehyung is a bit newer to Kim Exclusives, a model by complete accident. He came into the office once with Jungkook, just friends hanging out with each other, and the moment Namjoon saw him, he had to have him. A few weeks later, Taehyung was added to the roster of elite models under Kim Exclusives, booking just as well as any veteran.

“It’s a little too smokey for me, I think,” Taehyung comments. “What do you think?” he asks, setting his glass on the table and startling you out of your thoughts.

“What?” You blink up at him, totally lost.

“Give it a taste.” He taps the rim of the glass. “Tell me what you think,” he encourages, pushing the glass closer to where your hands are clasped together on the table.

You don’t really want to try the whiskey, but the expectant looks on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces make you pick up the glass and take a tentative sip. It burns across your tongue, coating your throat in a fiery, smokey blend of burnt spices. The flavor sits like ash in your mouth.

“It’s, uh…”

“Not great, right?” Jungkook gives you a lopsided grin, his shoulders stretching the seams of his jean jacket as he shrugs. “It’s okay to be honest about it.”

You slide the glass back across the tabletop toward Taehyung. “Yeah, it’s not great. It might be better on ice, but I’m not a big drinker, so I think it’s hard for me to judge it fairly.”

They both seem satisfied with this response and resume their conversation about the whiskey and the new campaign. You check your phone, wondering where Jiyoon could possibly be. There is no response to your text.

You’re picking at the frayed edge of the paper coaster that’s slowly growing waterlogged from the condensation dripping down your glass of ice water when Taehyung taps on the table in front of you, trying to capture your attention.

“Isn’t that right?” he asks.

“Sorry. Is what right?” You feel heat bloom in your cheeks at being caught not paying attention yet again.

“You’re healthy.”

That statement has confusion replacing your embarrassment. “Healthy?”

“Let me backtrack,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the back of Jungkook’s chair.

“Taehyung, really, this isn’t the time—”

“Ahem,” Taehyung interrupts Jungkook’s protest. “Hypothetically speaking, if your best friend and her husband were to inquire of you about the possibility of surrogacy, what would you say?”

The dots aren’t connecting for you, and his blunt question makes you feel like you missed something important. “Surrogacy?” You don’t mean to sound like a broken record, repeating what Taehyung is saying, but you’re thoroughly having a tough time understanding.

“Listen, you don’t have to answer that,” Jungkook states, shaking his head at Taehyung and giving him a pleading look that says to stop while he’s ahead.

“Are you and Jiyoon looking into a surrogate?” you ask; everything suddenly clicks into place, and the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

Jungkook grips the back of his neck and grumbles something incoherent towards Taehyung before he blows out a heavy breath and his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. “Not exactly, no. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s just something I read about today. But, honestly, you don’t have to answer the question. Taehyung is just being a dick—”

“I’d do it.”

Your response leaves Jungkook with his mouth open and jaw slack as he stares at you in bewilderment.

“See, I told you. She’s perfect. Young, healthy, and someone you know and can trust,” Taehyung tots off, waving a finger in the air.

“Wait…are you serious?” Jungkook asks, pointedly ignoring Taehyung.

You’ve never considered being a mom before, at least not in that sense. It was always an assumption that it wouldn’t be in the cards for you—the whole lack of a love life thing being the crux of it. You’ve barely had a handful of boyfriends, much less a long-term commitment that would lead to a family. But, when it comes to Jiyoon, you’d do just about anything for her. So, if she asked you to carry a baby for her, you know, without a doubt, you’d do it.

“Y-yeah. Yes,” you state with more confidence. “I’d do that.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Jiyoon bustles in through the bar's front door, her lilting laughter drawing everyone’s attention. She has her phone pressed to her ear, and she’s smiling at whatever the person she’s speaking to is saying.

“Okay, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. See you then,” Jiyoon says before ending the call and pocketing her phone. “Oh, Taehyung is here.” It’s a bland statement, Jiyoon’s eyes flicking over Jungkook’s best friend before landing on her husband. “Did you order me a drink already?”

Jungkook clears his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. “Babe, hey. Um, no, I wasn’t sure when you’d get here. You weren’t responding to any of my calls or texts.”

Jiyoon slides into the empty seat beside you, across from Jungkook, and gives you a quick smile before wrinkling her nose in his direction. “I’ll take a glass of red.”

“Oh-kay,” Jungkook says slowly, a look of confusion ghosting over his features. “Where have you been?”

“Hmm? Oh, just busy with work,” Jiyoon says. “Wine, please, Jungkook.” His only response is a tight press of his lips before he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bar. Jiyoon clicks her tongue and angles herself to look at you. “You’re not drinking?” she asks, eyeing the glass of water on the table in front of you.

“Um, no. You know I don’t—”

“I know, you’re boring,” Jiyoon sighs. The only thing taking the sting out of her words is the smile she gives you. You know Jiyoon isn’t exactly what people would call a nice person; in fact, she’s often coined as a ‘mean girl.’ But she’s never been intentionally mean to you, not really. She just provides constructive criticism and encouragement to be the best version of yourself that you can be.

“Way to be a bitch to her on her birthday, Jiyoon,” Taehyung mumbles into his whiskey glass before tossing it back and downing the rest.

Jiyoon winces and then plasters a smile on her face before saying, “Right, happy birthday.”

“Yeah, thanks.” You make your best attempt at nonchalance, but you’re not sure it lands properly as Taehyung shakes his head, and Jiyoon sighs again.

“I forgot, okay? It’s been so busy at work and with—uh,” she pauses for just a second, and any other time you might not have noticed, but you can’t help but pick up on the way she rushes to continue, “the new client that you know Namjoon has been breathing down my neck over. The Harper portfolio, you know the one? And apparently, the Song profile needs to be redone on top of that.”

Jiyoon has been different lately. You’re aware that she took over one of the new higher-end clients, some big hot-shot movie star or something like that, but it’s almost made her seem like she thinks she’s above everyone else. It makes things tense sometimes like everyone is on edge when she comes around. You try to ignore it, for the sake of tonight. “It’s okay, Jiyoon, really.”

“Anyway, how are things going? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked about something other than work.”

Yeah, because every time you turn around Jiyoon is spending time with Dani or has a client meeting. You shrug. “Okay, I guess.”

Taehyung pipes up in the silence that follows, “We were actually just talking about surroga—”

“Red wine for my wife, another whiskey for Tae, the good stuff this time, and a pina colada for the birthday girl. Virgin, I made sure. I know you don’t like to drink alcohol,” Jungkook interrupts Taehyung, passing out the cluster of drinks in his hands.

You stare up at Jungkook, lips slightly parted as you try to think of the proper response, completely taken off guard by his gesture. Finally, you lamely offer, “Oh, uh, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”

“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve a little treat, and I know you like pineapple.” Jungkook settles back into his seat, and you try to keep your eyes off your best friend's husband. But it’s hard with how his hair falls into his face, and the denim hugs his shoulders as he relaxes against the back of his chair.

“Ew,” Jiyoon gags dramatically, startling your attention in her direction. “Is that a jacket from the shoot today?” She gestures at Jungkook, the distaste apparent on her face. “I know they didn’t dress you in that. What were they thinking?”

Jungkook frowns, staring down at the oversized light-wash jean jacket. “You don’t like it?” he asks.

Jiyoon scoffs, “It looks ridiculous, you look ridiculous. What the hell did you do to your hair? A mullet, really? It’s a wonder you’re a model. You were okay with this?” The last part is directed at you, because, as the lead on his profile, you’re the one who signed off on the hair and makeup for the shoot.

“Hey now,” Taehyung states loud enough to quiet the table; he’s clearly not having any of Jiyoon’s antics tonight, long work day or not. “Keep your petty bullshit opinions for when you’re at home. Tonight isn’t about you or how handsome my best friend is in his jean jacket and new hairstyle.” You can tell he intentionally calls Jungkook his best friend instead of Jiyoon’s husband as an extra jab.

“I never said he wasn’t handsome,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before looking at Jungkook and sighing. “Sorry, dear, I’m just under a lot of stress. You know I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flick to yours. “I know it’s not your fault.” You just give her a subtle shake of your head, not sure how to respond.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and tries to move the conversation along. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on why we’re here tonight.” He swings his eyes toward you, his smile becoming genuine, and begins to loudly belt out Happy Birthday, much to your dismay. This draws the attention of everyone else in the bar and earns you a generous round of applause when the singing finally fades.

You try to enjoy the rest of your night, but every time Jungkook catches you staring at him, you can’t help but feel a small spike of guilt; guilt over the perhaps tiny, mostly insignificant, completely harmless crush you might, perhaps, maybe have on your best friend’s husband.

It’s hard not to be attracted to him; Jiyoon knows that—she flaunts that fact. She also knows her claws are deep in him, and he’s not going anywhere. Jungkook would pull down the moon for her and then ask if she wanted the sun, too. You swallow down the last of your pina colada, eyes once again locked on Jungkook as he throws his head back and laughs at something Taehyung said.

Jiyoon presses her arm against yours, leaning in close to you. In a soft voice meant only for you, she whispers, “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”

“Hm? Who?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” she giggles drunkenly. “I know you were staring at him. My husband.”

You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”

Jiyoon sighs wistfully. “It’s okay to stare, I don’t mind. I know what he looks like, after all. He’s so beautiful when he’s happy. I wish I could give him what he wants, he’d be the perfect father…I’m so scared to lose him.” The last part is whispered, so soft it’s hard to hear.

Instantly, your guilt turns into something else: resolve. You can’t bear the defeat you hear in her voice. It’s not something you can even begin to fathom—what she and Jungkook are going through. It’s no wonder she has caustic words at times. You meant what you said earlier, what you told Jungkook you were willing to do. With that in mind, you make a mental note to start researching and do what you can to make sure at least someone gets a happy ending here.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

The night of your birthday kept playing over and over again in Jungkook’s head the days that followed. Now, just as evening is rolling around, one week later, he can’t stop thinking about what you said, your confirmation. On top of that, that night was probably the most fun Jungkook has had in a long time—as long as he excludes the prickly start after Jiyoon arrived. He’s used to her snide and biting remarks after a long work day. Brushing them to the side and sweeping them away is usually easy.

But for some reason—perhaps it was the high he was riding after your confession and confirmation—it bothered him that she was doing it in front of Taehyung—in front of you. As if somehow her criticisms might make you both believe them. Not that he cares about being good-looking to Taehyung, or you for that matter, not really. It’s just that his first thought was what if that made you change your mind? Not necessarily whether or not he’s attractive, but the exchange as a whole. What if Jiyoon’s blatant criticisms made you want to change your mind because it somehow planted doubt in your mind that they’re a happy and healthy environment for a child?

“Jungkook.” The frustrated snap of his name brings him out of his thoughts. His eyes focus on the bathroom mirror once more, on Jiyoon, who is standing behind him with her hands on her hips, accentuating the flattering cut of the navy-colored dress she’s wearing. “Are you even listening to me?”

Turning and leaning back against the counter, Jungkook gives her his full attention. “Uh, yeah, sorry. You were talking about having dinner with a client tonight, and you’re leaving now to meet with Dani so you can get some files.”

“Yes,” she says, her lips twitching in mild surprise, and Jungkook knows she was expecting him not to have been paying attention. “I don’t know how long the dinner will last, so don’t wait up for me. It’s likely I’ll be home late.” She turns to go back into the bedroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure what possesses him, but he surges forward and gently snags her wrist, turning her back toward him. “Uh?” she makes a sound of mild questioning irritation.

“I have something I need—er, want—to talk to you about. It should only take a moment.”

She shakes his hold off her wrist and gives him a placating smile. “Okay, well, talk while I finish getting ready at least.” Not waiting to see if he follows, she disappears into the bedroom and heads to the closet, rummaging through her jewelry.

“Okay, um. Okay,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s under pressure for some reason. “So, the other night, it was brought up in conversation, and uh, she already agreed, and it’s just that, well, there’s this thing called intracervical insemination and…how do you feel about surrogacy?”

There is a heavy pause, dread threatening to make Jungkook backpedal and eat his words just to snatch them back out of the air. Jiyoon glances at him over her shoulder, but he can’t get a clear read on her eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, sure,” she says, turning back to her digging.

Jungkook can’t tell whether Jiyoon is the one paying attention to him now, so he probes further, just to be clear. “You mean that? You’re okay with going the surrogacy route? My sperm, her egg…your best friend carrying our baby?”

Jiyoon’s back is to Jungkook, but he watches how her shoulders slide up in a shrug. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m not sure, it’s just that with ICI—”

“Look, Jungkook,” Jiyoon says, turning to face him fully. Her fingers work at slipping a pair of silver hoops into her earlobes. “I trust you.” She says the words slowly, keeping her eyes intently locked on his. “I know you’ll do your best for us. Whatever you want, it’s what I want, too. You know that.”

“Well, um, do you have any questions? We should talk…discuss this, er, something. I know how you feel about IVF. I want to make sure this is an option you truly want, and you’re not just saying this to make me happy. You should take some more time to think about it.” The fact she’s so quick to agree makes Jungkook question whether or not he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

Jiyoon cups one of his cheeks, gently thumbing over his bottom lip. “I don’t need time to think, because I’ve already thought about it. I—well, I was going to bring it up to you soon, but I wanted to do a bit more research first.”

“Wait, what? Really? You were thinking about ICI, too?” Jungkook swallows hard, leaning into his wife's warm touch.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her soft smile making her eyes twinkle and his heart melt.

Jungkook can’t help letting his eyes drink in his wife. They might have been going through rough patches the last few years, but that hasn’t lessened how he feels about her. Jungkook has always found her strikingly beautiful, with long legs and shiny hair that he loves to run his fingers through. But at this moment, he feels like he might burst with the love he has for her.

“Yeah? Okay. Okay,” he tries to suppress the emotion in his words. “Okay, perfect. I love you. I love you so much!”

Jiyoon laughs, and it sounds magical, as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. “Don’t smear my lipstick, please,” she mumbles, her voice light and playful.

“Go have a good dinner, secure the client, and don’t worry about anything else,” Jungkook bubbles happily, setting Jiyoon back on her feet. “I swear I’ll take care of it all. Everything will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”

An hour later, Jungkook walks up to your apartment door. He couldn’t stop himself earlier, so he immediately texted you and asked to see you as soon as Jiyoon left for Dani’s.

The door swings open before he can knock, revealing you standing there breathless and in a set of purple checkered pajamas. “Is everything okay?” you ask, worry lines creasing between your brows. “Your text sounded urgent.”

“Oh.” Jungkook feels terrible for making you concerned. He didn’t mean for it to come off like that. “No, I mean, yes, everything is okay. But, no, it’s not exactly urgent. Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

You lean against the doorframe, eyes wide on his. “What is it?”

“Er, uh, do you mind if I come in? This is more of a sit-down kind of conversation.”

The little ‘o’ your lips form is far cuter than Jungkook has a right to think it is. His mind instantly latches onto it, wondering if the baby would have your lips or his. “O-okay, sure, come on in.”

Jungkook has visited your apartment a handful of times over the years. It’s quaint and cozy, exactly what he’d imagine for you. There are books everywhere, shelves full of thick and thin volumes of literary prose. A few art pieces decorate the walls, along with dozens and dozens of black-and-white photos in simple frames. He stirs up the recollection that you enjoy photography in your spare time.

“Sorry, again, about my text. I didn’t mean to worry you, really.” Jungkook feels nervous, unsure where to stand or even sit, until you gesture toward the couch. A handful of well-loved decorative pillows are scattered across the burgundy suede. He settles at one end as you take the other, looking at him expectantly.

A beat or two passes, and Jungkook feels like he’s about to swallow his tongue until you open your mouth, clearly picking up on his distress. “Is it something with work? I can try to fix whatever it is first thing in the morning—”

“No, no,” Jungkook holds up a hand, shaking his head. “It’s not work. It’s um, it’s actually Jiyoon. Well, me and her, specifically.”

You pull your knees up and tuck your feet underneath yourself. “Oh, okay.”

“Were you serious about what you said the other night?” Jungkook blurts, figuring it’s best, like ripping off a bandaid.

Your bottom lip has an indent left from where you tucked it between your teeth before nodding. “Yes.” Jungkook didn’t necessarily expect you to say no, but the rush of relief he feels at hearing that encourages him to press on.

“I talked with Jiyoon about it today and she—we—would be honored if you’d do that for us. If you’d give us a chance at having a family. It’s…it’s something we both, deeply, deeply desire. If you’re truly serious about it, we’ll take care of everything, all medical expenses, bills, anything…just name it, it’s yours.”

“That’s—okay, okay, yes. Yes, I’ll do it. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Jungkook whoops loudly, jumping up from the couch, and drags you into his arms for a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t even begin to explain what this means to me, to us. This is…I can’t…oh my, I need to—wait, okay. Sorry, let me calm down for a second.” The word vomit is real, and Jungkook uses his hold on you to ground himself, moving his hands to your shoulders and locking his eyes on yours. “I think I might pass out,” he whispers a second before bursting into a giddy laugh.

“Whoa, um, sit down. Please don’t pass out on me. You’re too big for me to catch!” Your frantic words make him laugh even harder.

He shakes his head, on cloud nine. “I’m kidding, kind of. I just feel…I feel so light, like—well, it doesn’t matter about that. What matters is you. Please don’t feel obligated to do this. That’s the last thing I want. If you are serious, I can send all the information you need to you in the morning. But only if you’re certain.”

“Jungkook,” the way you say his name makes his heart thump heavy in his chest as if his fate hinges on whatever comes next. “I am serious. I promise. I want to do this for you, for Jiyoon…I want to give you both the happiness you deserve.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says fervently, never meaning something more in his life.

This happiness carries Jungkook through the rest of the evening, turning into a brilliant flame of intimacy when Jiyoon crawls into bed beside him hours later. For the first time in a long time, there is no schedule, no waiting for the perfect moment; it’s just the love shared between two souls celebrating the joys of life.

💔💔💔

The following day, several emails from Jungkook are waiting for you; Jiyoon CC’d on them all, as well as a few texts to check in. The idea that you could possibly be pregnant in the coming weeks or months—not just pregnant, but pregnant with Jungkook’s baby for your best friend—still feels a bit surreal.

You texted Jiyoon last night, expressing to her how much she means to you and that you’re honored she wants it to be you that helps her fulfill her dreams of having a family. She hasn’t replied yet, but that doesn’t bother you; she’s probably busy helping Jungkook with planning.

There is an entire email dedicated to medical referrals. Apparently, Jungkook spent hours pouring over all the local doctors and medical facilities vetting to find the best ones. Each has notes and suggestions under them, along with all the information you might need to call and make an appointment.

That’s really all you need to do: make an appointment for a check-up. Taehyung made an assumption of your health last night, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. The last thing you’d want to do is be in poor health and unable to keep your word.

Your fingers tremble as you dial the numbers, and you have to take a few shallow breaths to get your voice to work properly. Minutes later, you have an appointment scheduled for later this week. Now, all you have to do is figure out how you’re going to wait the next few days and not burst from anticipation. It’s a slow few days.

Apparently, by Googling every possible thing you can think of about being a surrogate and pregnancies. Along with the emails full of information, by the time you’re walking into the clinic for your appointment at the end of the week, you feel confident asking questions.

“Being a surrogate is a pretty serious situation. Have you considered all the possibilities and what might be required of you?” The doctor has a pleasant demeanor; her eyes are intense yet kind. It might be the steel-colored strands scattered through her hair or the wrinkles that deepen around her eyes when she smiles, but you feel comfortable opening up to her.

You roll your lips between your teeth before saying, “Honestly? Probably not as much as most surrogates. I’m sure there are things I’m not aware of yet. It was only presented to me a few days ago. But I have done some extensive reading and soul-searching, and I know it’s what I want.”

Dr. Lee contemplates you for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I believe you do. Let’s get started, shall we?”

It’s not uncomfortable going through all the tests and procedures. There isn’t much the doctor does that you haven’t done before. Samples are taken, and a routine exam is performed. As you leave, the nurse tells you you should have results within the next two weeks.

Thankfully, the results come at the beginning of the following week. You’re sitting at your desk at work, reviewing the final details for the whiskey campaign Jungkook and Taehyung are shooting in a few days, when you get the notification that your results are viewable on your patient portal. A moment before you click into the email, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“Hello?” you whisper, cupping your hand around the base of your phone and mouth. A nurse rattles off your information, ensuring she speaks to the right person. “Yes, speaking.”

“I just wanted to let you know that all of your results are in, and Dr. Lee has signed off on your request to move forward with the surrogacy…” Everything else the nurse says is a bit hazy. She covers the numbers for your tests and where to find resources for more information on at-home intracervical insemination. “Do you have any questions for me? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Oh, umm, yes, sorry. No questions, thank you so much.”

The line disconnects, and you sit there for a few more moments, the phone still held to your ear, as you try to process the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you. You need to tell Jiyoon, Jungkook, someone…anyone. Pushing up from your desk, you scan the area around you for your best friend and come up empty.

“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”

“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, everything is okay. Everything is perfect. Do you know where Jiyoon might be? I haven’t seen her since she came into the office this morning.” You rack your brain, trying to remember if you saw her leave or go into another room.

“Yeah, she called a little while ago and said that Namjoon was having her meet one of the new clients for lunch to sign some more papers.”

“Right, that’s right,” you say, recalling that Namjoon asked her to come into his office shortly after she arrived this morning.

“Why? What’s up?”

You drag a slow, shallow breath into your lungs in an effort to slow your rapidly beating heart. “I heard back from the doctor.”

Jungkook urges you to continue, “Yeah? What did they say? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m great. I’m perfect. I’m—I, I can do it. We can do it. There’s a chart,” you explain, wedging your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free your hands so you can pull up the email you got and forward it to him. “It has an estimated schedule and recommendations on timing for the best results. I just sent everything over to you.”

“I got it. Wow. Okay. Wow. Oh my…wow! I need to call Jiyoon. Fuck. Oh my god. Okay, thank you! I’ll call you back later, okay?” The line disconnects after Jungkook says a hurried goodbye, the elation in his voice evident.

According to the doctor's ovulation chart, the best time for you to begin trying is next week. Conception is most likely during a twenty-four-hour period. On your way home, you stop and pick up an ovulation testing kit so you can remain on track.

You arrive home filled with nervous energy, unable to stop smiling as you unpack the things you picked up at the pharmacy. A large box of pregnancy tests goes beside the ovulation kit in your medicine cabinet, along with a pack of medical gloves and hand sanitizer. You’re not sure what you’ll need, exactly, but you figure it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.

“Jiyoon!” you gush, swiping to answer the call coming in on your phone. “Hi!”

“Hey, I just got off the phone with Jungkook.” There is a lot of background noise, and it’s hard to hear her clearly.

“Oh, wonderful! I got the results today. There is a possibility of next week being—”

A loud laugh cuts through from Jiyoon’s end, the added clang of dishes drowning you out further. “Sorry, I’m still at dinner. Next week, you say? I’ll be going on a business trip the whole of next week, Namjoon wants me to travel with a client for a go-see.”

Disappointment drags at your shoulders and has your smile softening into a frown. You suppose it can wait a few more weeks. “Okay, no problem. That will give us time to plan a bit more anyway.”

“Sure thing!” Jiyoon yells, the line cutting out momentarily. “I’ll catch you later. I can’t wait to see you when I get back. Thank you. I love you so much!”

“Okay, yeah, love you—” The line goes dead before you can finish. “Love you, too,” you murmur into the quiet of your apartment.

A minor setback. But it’s okay; you’re sure you were getting ahead of yourself anyway. Taking a few weeks to confirm things and actually come up with a game plan is probably for the better. But it doesn’t hurt to start doing that now. Letting the smile that hadn’t left your face most of the day slide back onto your lips, you continue setting up everything in your bathroom so it’ll be there for when you do need it.

It turns out you don’t have to wait—at least, according to Jungkook. From the constant flood of text messages you’ve gotten from him over the last few days, as much as Jiyoon would love to be there to help, she’s given her blessing to proceed with the ICI without her. In her own words, via a text you got last night, there will be plenty more for her to be present for, and she’s far too excited for you to wait for her to return.

Jiyoon has been relatively quiet, but Jungkook explained in delicate words that she’s okay; she just has a lot on her plate right now. Even though it may seem like she’s on the outside, it’s more that this is a very sensitive topic for Jiyoon. Despite wanting a child, ICI is nearly as taboo a subject as IVF when it comes to Jiyoon; you know this. She’s told you how much it makes her feel like a failure. So, you’re content when Jungkook takes full responsibility for the surrogacy journey and has promised to be there for you every step of the way, including coming over to your place tonight to help you with the first ICI attempt.

You’ve been testing your ovulation each morning, and the positive test strip in your bathroom trash has started a full-tilt, day-long extravaganza. It’s a Thursday, just a few days after you got your green light from the doctor, meaning you were able to leave work early and are now sitting on your couch waiting patiently for Jungkook to arrive.

All your research and reading about ICI makes you nervous about what’s to come. It’s not that you’re going to be explicitly intimate with Jungkook, but you’re well aware of the fact that fresh sperm samples, as in within a thirty-minute window, are the best. Which means, he’s going to have to somehow provide the sample while he’s here.

The idea of Jungkook masturbating in your bathroom should feel awkward or perhaps embarrassing to think about, yet you’re oddly comfortable with it. It’s a natural thing, something necessary to create something that’s going to be beautiful.

By the time Jungkook knocks on your door, your hands are clammy, and it takes you two tries to get the handle to turn. He greets you with a giant smile and shining eyes, absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you parrot, unable to contain from reflecting the smile still on his face. “Please, come on in.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook steps past you, and the soft fragrance of his laundry detergent catches in your nose. “I brought everything we need,” he says, holding up a bag. He’s wearing the same denim jacket he was the other night, a white T-shirt underneath above a pair of worn, light-washed jeans, and black boots on his feet that he toes off before heading into your living room.

“Can I get you anything to drink or maybe something to eat? Have you had dinner yet?” You’re not sure how this is going to go, if it’s just going to be a clinical experience or something more comfortable between friends. Because you are friends, right? At this point, you should consider him more than just your best friend’s husband; he should at least be seen as a friend of yours, too.

Jungkook deposits the bag on your couch and turns to look at you. “Um, maybe if you had some beer or something, but I know you don’t drink—” There is a nervous energy to the way he’s talking, words coming out a little too quickly “—so, er, maybe just some water is fine.”

“Actually,” you say, hurrying into the kitchen and opening the fridge, “I got, well, is this okay?” You hold up a 6-pack of beer you bought on a whim a few nights ago. It’s true that you don’t really drink, but you weren’t thinking of yourself at the time that you bought it. In actuality, you were thinking of Jungkook, knowing he’s partial to this brand, and figured…well, you’re not sure what you figured, you bought it before you could give it too much thought.

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifts, his smile turning into a light smirk. “Wow, my favorite. I’d love to, but actually, I’m not sure if I should, no matter how nervous I am right now…not until after, at least. I haven’t read anything about how alcohol might impact things, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol to drink nor a bite of junk food in the last week, just in case.”

“Oh, right. Of course, I should have thought about that.”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t thinking either, I haven’t been able to think about much at all, if I’m being honest,” Jungkook laughs nervously, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. “Is this weird? Are you sure you want to do this?”

It is weird, but not in a bad way, and you don’t want to admit that because you don’t want him to worry. So, you simply smile and shake your head. “It’s not all that weird, it’s…well, just not weird. I am nervous,” you decide to give him at least that. “I’m worried that it might not work, or that I might do something wrong.”

“W-what do you think you might do wrong?” Jungkook asks, moving closer to you. “I’ve…I’ve read a lot about the how, I even got an informational video from my doctor.”

You can feel heat crawling up your neck. “I’m not sure, exactly. I guess just the whole process in general.”

There is a beat where you can see Jungkook contemplating his words. He chews on his bottom lip, eyes unfocused for a moment before returning to you. “I could help if you want. Purely in a platonic, helpful way, no funny business, I swear.”

“Um, I don’t know if that…uh, I can try first, maybe?” You can’t seem to swallow past the thick knot in your throat at the thought of asking Jungkook to help assist you in…well, that.

“Sure, okay. Should we…get started?” Jungkook asks, his eyes flicking back to the bag he dropped on your couch.

Your stomach flips at his words. “Yeah,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, feeling suddenly even more shy than usual.

“Great.” Jungkook claps his hands together before retrieving the bag from the couch. “I have everything we need. It's probably best if we begin this in the bathroom.”

Your apartment has one bathroom, which is joined to the bedroom but is still accessible through the hallway. Jungkook leads the way down the hall, flicking on the light inside the bathroom before stepping aside to let you in as well.

“Have you talked with Jiyoon?” you ask, seeking something to fill the silence as you watch him unpack everything from the bag and arrange it on the bathroom counter.

Jungkook shakes his head in a so-so manner. “I spoke with her for a few minutes earlier to let her know the plan for tonight. She couldn’t talk long and it was hard to hear with all the background noise, but she’s excited and said she can’t wait to be back at the end of the week.”

After washing his hands, Jungkook opens up the packet of a large sterile pad and spreads it out across the rest of the counter. From the research you’ve done, you recognize some of the things he begins to set out. There is a collection cup with an orange screw-on lid, a large syringe with a hose attaching it to a bulbous silicone mushroom-shaped plug, and several single-use packets of water-based lube. He also sets out a box of pregnancy tests, giving you a sheepish smile when you raise an eyebrow at it.

“I, uh, bought some, too,” you say, opening the medicine cabinet to show him the large box of pregnancy tests sitting between your ovulation test kit and your toothbrush.

Jungkook smiles. “I guess we’re on the same wavelength, huh?”

You have to stop yourself from leaning too far into the unusual, yet enticingly warm and appealing, feeling you get when he smiles like that. Clearing your throat, you gesture to the spread of tools. “What now?”

“I think we should discuss a game plan, make sure we know what to do and when to do it. There are some things I’ve read online, plus the directions in this pamphlet,” he says, slipping a folded paper from the box the inseminator came in.

Leaning in, you try to read the step-by-step process written on the paper over Jungkook’s shoulder. He shifts, steps closer to you, and angles the pamphlet to make it easier for you to see.

“Step one, collect the sample. Step two, transfer the sample into the syringe. Step three, insert the silicone plug into the…v-vagina,” you choke over the word, feeling heat licking up your neck, “as close to the cervix as possible. Step four, depress the plunger to administer the sample.”

“Seems pretty simple, right?”

You’re not sure you’d say simple. Sure, step by step, it looks pretty straightforward, but you seem to be responsible for the most challenging part, and that makes you even more nervous than before. “Yeah, simple.”

“Give me a few minutes, I need to—uh,” he points to the sample cup. “I’ll, you know.”

“Oh, right, right, of course. I’ll just—" you hook a thumb over your shoulder towards the door that leads to your bedroom ”—wait in there.”

It’s hard not to pace around your bedroom as you wait. You try to stick to the far side of your bedroom, not wanting to come too close to the bathroom and overhear anything you shouldn’t. The fact your best friend’s husband is in your bathroom masturbating is a weird enough revelation, albeit a necessary one for the ICI procedure; you’d still rather afford him some privacy.

After three minutes, you stop counting the seconds that pass, realizing that means you’re counting how long it takes for Jungkook to produce the sample. Which is something you’re vehemently trying to avoid thinking about so casually.

The bathroom door opening startles you, stopping you in your tracks. Jungkook clears his throat. “Ready?”

You move over to the bathroom. “I think so.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You can do this and don’t forget, I’ll be here if you need any help, promise. Purely for help, for the process.” Jungkook swipes a finger in an x over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“You’re right,” you say, trying to bolster your own confidence. “I can do this.”

You step past Jungkook and into the bathroom, but his hand on your arm pulls you up short. “Wait, wait. Would you feel more comfortable doing it in your room? It’s just that I’ve read it’s best if you could lay on your back with your hips elevated for fifteen to thirty minutes after.” He nods at your bed. “More comfortable than the bathroom floor.”

The idea of doing this on your bed crosses a line, taking this from a medical process to something far more intimate. “Maybe just a pillow,” you say, grabbing one of the decorative throw pillows you never seem to remember to put back on your bed but keep in a small pile on the floor instead.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a small smile, and it makes his eyes look soft and bright. The kind of smile you hope you can help him bestow onto a baby.

You leave the door unlocked, just in case you need his help. In your bathroom, there is no evidence of Jungkook's actions other than the very full sample cup sitting on the medical pad covering the counter.

The cup is warm to the touch, which is startling, though you know it shouldn’t be. Placing the pillow down on the floor, you shimmy your pants and panties down your legs and step out of them. There is a lingering scent in the bathroom; it’s a mix of Jungkook’s cologne but also of something clinical. You realize there are two empty packets of lube in your trashcan, and you can’t help the image that pieces itself together in your mind.

Swallowing hard against the threatening flood of further indecent thoughts, you move quickly to prepare the inseminator. It’s a systematic process you can do with little thought—safe—unscrewing the cap of the cup and filling the syringe. Once you’re in position on the floor, hips elevated on the pillow, empty packets of lube discarded and your body primed, you take the silicone plug in one hand and the syringe in the other.

The directions make it seem so easy. But as you try to fit the silicone plug inside, you can’t seem to get it to go where you want it. It keeps slipping sideways and tugging at the tube connecting it to the syringe. Your heart begins to race as you realize you might not be able to do this—not on your own, at least.

By the fourth try, fifteen minutes have passed, and you’re in full-blown panic mode. Your breath wheezes in and out as you crunch up, hands fumbling between your thighs, and sweat forming on your brow. “Oh god, oh god. I—uh, god dammit…Jungkook!” His name is out of your mouth in a strangled yell before you can stop it.

“What is it? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” The frantic words are muffled through the door. The door rattles on its hinges, and you can tell he’s pressing up against it from the sound of denim scuffing along it, probably pressing his ear against it in an effort to hear your response.

You’ve managed to get it inside, but you’re not sure if you can get it all the way in, pressed up against your cervix where it needs to be. It’s possible you used too much lube, though the idea that it’s possible to have too much lubricant seems ridiculous. But no matter what you do or how far you press your fingers in, you’re either at a wrong angle, or your fingers keep slipping on the plug too much. Asking Jungkook for help is the last thing you want to do, but you’re not sure what other options there are.

“C-can you come in here?” you ask in a hoarse voice. There is a moment of silence before the door eases open and Jungkook sticks his head inside. His eyes are closed so tight it makes you let out a snap of nervous laughter. “I think…I think I need help. I’m sorry, I just can’t—it’s not going in all the way, I don’t think,” you gush in explanation.

“Do you—is it okay if I?” Jungkook asks, leaving the obvious unsaid.

“Um, yes…please. I’ve tried, and I just…I don’t want to ruin this. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jungkook shuffles into the bathroom, eyes still firmly closed and arms out in the air. “Um, where exactly are you so I don’t step on you by accident?”

Snagging the edge of the towel hanging on the rack, you pull it down and drape it over your knees to make yourself as decent as you can be in this situation. “Just open your eyes, it’s okay.”

Slowly, his eyes peek open and finally land on where you’re laid out on the floor, bent knees covered in a towel and your shirt askew from all your efforts.

“How can I help?” Jungkook kneels down beside you, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it to the side.

“I just…I don’t know if it’s all the way in. Can you—with your hand, I know that’s horrible and weird, but I don’t know what else to—”

“No, no, it’s not weird. I said I’d help. It’s clinical, right? We’re doing this just as a medical procedure. Like I said, no funny business, I swear. It’s for the baby. I’ll help you.”

“Okay.” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut because it’s hard to look him in the eye when he’s about to—the towel shifts, and cool air licking between your thighs has your mind going blank.

“Look at me,” Jungkook requests, to which you immediately comply. “I need you to promise me you’ll let me know if I hurt you or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop immediately, okay?” When you don’t immediately say anything, he adds, “I need you to tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

Stretching across to the sink, Jungkook keeps his eyes on yours as he washes his hands and then shifts the towel more, folding it up and over your knees. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

His fingers are gentle against your skin, softer than you expected, and warm from the water. You can feel errant droplets of water streak down your thigh and roll over the bottom of your ass. You try to focus on that feeling instead of the way Jungkook’s hand trails down your thigh until his fingers graze your outer lips.

“I’m going to use two of my fingers to try and seat the inseminator. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” this time, it comes out as more a breath than a word.

You tense at the subtle press of his fingers and how they probe their way down until they find your entrance. There is easily enough lube down there to grease a bakery’s worth of cake pans, considering the half a dozen empty packets now in your trashcan, but you can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath as he begins to press in.

“Still okay?” he asks, fingers moving achingly slow.

“I think so.”

Jungkook’s brow pinches. “I feel it…only about two inches in. I’m going to push it further now. Tell me if it hurts or is uncomfortable.”

Never in a million years did you think you’d ever find yourself in this position. Not only are you butterflied open on your bathroom floor, but your best friend’s husband is now middle-knuckle deep in your vagina, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. In fact, you’re trying to do everything you can to not think about how you stretch around the intrusion of his fingers, or that it feels far better than it should.

“Do you think you can get it all the way?” you ask, voice warbling with nerves.

Jungkook hums, his lips pushing out as if he is trying to concentrate. “I think I’m almost there. Does that feel okay, is it good?”

Not once does he look away from you as he’s pushing deeper into your body. You think you want him to look away, to break that intimate contact, but you can’t even bring yourself to do that—even though you know you should. And the whispered exchange does little to help. Is it good? You’re going to burn in hell for the thoughts now flooding through.

“Oh!” You jolt in place, eyes going wide, all previous thoughts gathering into one singular point. Jungkook mirrors your surprise, his mouth popping open in silent shock.

“I’m so sorry!” he babbles. “I didn’t mean to do that. Oh fuck, god damn, shit…okay, sorry, let me just—” Jungkook is still gentle, yet swift in finishing seating the inseminator before quickly extracting his fingers from your body. “Please believe me when I say I am sorry, and I swear I wasn’t trying…I wasn’t trying to do that.”

Your body is still buzzing from the that he’s talking about—the graze of his thumb over your clit. It’s clear it was an accident by his reaction, but it does nothing to lessen the pulse that is now singing through your body.

“I-it’s okay. Really, it’s okay. It’s fine.” You’re not sure if your words are convincing enough, but Jungkook jerks his head in what you assume is a nod of acknowledgement.

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s in. Do you need me to do the syringe, too?”

“Just do it.” You exhale a shaky breath, finally tearing your eyes away from his. You’re confident he’s still watching you, even as he depresses the syringe and injects his cum into your body—as crass as that sounds in your head, that’s exactly what’s happening, and it’s the first time you think you’re realizing how truly fucked you are for this.

Nothing has happened between you and Jungkook, not in that way, but for some reason, guilt won’t leave you alone. You feel like you’ve just betrayed Jiyoon and feel even more like a ridiculous schoolgirl ruining her life over a crush on a boy. You’re intimately aware of the warmth and the subtle change in pressure as he finishes depressing the inseminator. It makes you want to squirm, but you chew your bottom lip and tap your toes instead.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft and gentle.

“I should be asking you that,” you sigh.

Jungkook balks. “What? Why would you say that? I’m fine…I’m the one that—” He nods toward where your body is now covered with the towel again. As soon as he was done plunging the depressor, he unfolded the towel and made you decent once more.

“You didn’t mean to,” you say, maybe more as a reminder to yourself than him.

“No, but that doesn’t make it okay.” Jungkook settles back on his heels, using one of the wet wipes that came in the kit to clean his hands. Suddenly, he laughs. “This is ridiculous, right? I mean, look at us, we just did something…beautiful, and we’re not allowing ourselves to enjoy it.”

You chuckle softly, fidgeting with one of the ends of the towel. “It is kind of ridiculous, huh? Sorry that I freaked out and you had to do…that.”

”I’m not. Sorry, that is. I’m glad you asked for my help. We’re in this together.” Jungkook gives you a smile, similar to the one he wore when he knocked on your door over an hour ago, and takes up the hand not pinching at the towel in his, squeezing it. “I don’t know that I can even begin to articulate with words just what this means to me. Thank you so much.”

“It means a lot to me, as well. Being able to do this for you and Jiyoon is not something you need to thank me for. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through so much together over the last twenty years…I just want to see her happy. You, too, of course.”

Jungkook hums in the back of his throat, keeping his hand wrapped around yours as he leans back, using the side of the tub for support. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, spanning several minutes until Jungkook speaks again. “Have you ever thought about being a mom, you know, before this?”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to answer with what you think he wants to hear, that this has always been your wish, but instead, you choose to give him an honest answer. “Not really.”

”Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”

If it were anyone else asking, you might mind, but…

You purse your lips before offering yet another truth. “I guess I just…I’m me, you know?”

”No, I don’t think I do know. What do you mean?”

“I’m a single woman in my thirties with no prospects on the horizon. My last boyfriend was over five years ago. I’m a modern-day spinster. Nothing is wrong with that, I love who I am…I just, no one has ever shown interest in me like that. Though it’s not necessary to have another person in the picture, it’s just that…I don’t even know, I’m rambling, sorry.”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, and it’s so hard to read his expression. All you want to do is plead with him to tell you what’s on his mind.

“You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” he finally says.

”Do what?” you ask, uncertain what he’s referring to.

“Sell yourself short like that. You are easily one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. You have a successful career and amazing tastes in art and food. Not to mention, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re…you’re amazing, and I know for a fact that people think so, too.”

You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I’m one of them. I wouldn’t choose just anyone to do this with. After all, the baby will be half of you, too. A win-win in my book.” The corner of his mouth tilts in a small smile.

You’re pretty certain you’ve never had something create such a viscerally emotional response in you. It takes everything you have to blink away the sudden onslaught of tears that threaten to overwhelm you.

When you finally think you can speak without melting into a blubbering mess, you whisper, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

It’s well after midnight by the time Jungkook makes it home. He’s positively buzzing and can’t even think about going to bed just yet. There is far too much going on in his head, so he decides to expend some energy in the tiny home gym he turned one of the spare rooms into.

The condo he and Jiyoon bought two years into their marriage is spacious, spanning half the second and third floors of the building. There is a three-car garage on the first floor, as well as an elevator that leads to the landing out front. Across the landing is where Taehyung lives with his roommate Jimin, another well-to-do model they met through Kim Exclusives.

Jiyoon stuck her nose up at the fact that Taehyung was buying the unit across from them when Jungkook first told her, but so far, it hasn’t caused too many problems over the years. It helps at times like this, when Jiyoon is traveling for work, to have a friend so close by. Usually, Jungkook would knock next door when he can’t get his head cleared, but for some reason, Jungkook doesn’t want to tell Taehyung about what happened at your place. He doesn’t want to tell anyone, for that matter, holding onto it as a private thing for as long as possible.

Losing himself in sets of squats and curls is far safer than describing in maddening detail the way your soft, lush—Jungkook slams his hand against the squat rack and forces his thoughts away from that line of thinking.

Just because you’re a gorgeous woman with a nice body doesn’t give him the right to think about you like that. Especially considering he’s married to your best friend, whom he loves more than anything. Besides, he’s better than that, knows the whole alpha male hindbrain is the stuff of fantasy. There is no excuse for him having such sordid and outlandish thoughts about you like that. It was simply doing what needed to be done to help—for the baby.

With that in his mind instead, he moves through the motions of his workout. By the time he’s dripping sweat and his muscles are trembling with fatigue, the sun is starting to peek through the windows, and he hasn’t thought about you in hours—well, not much, at least. And when he does, he says it's just because he's thinking of what might be passed down to your baby—er—his and Jiyoon's baby—he reminds himself.

It’s been an excruciating three weeks waiting and waiting to hear from you about something other than work. After Jiyoon returned home from her business trip, Jungkook told her about that night, including the accidental slip-up. At first, she was upset, accusing him of taking advantage of her best friend. It took hours of strained conversation to get her to understand that it was more of a clinical procedure than Jungkook fingering you.

When that accusation was first thrown out, Jungkook was at a loss for words and completely thrown off the tracks. Jiyoon apologized, saying she didn’t understand how he didn’t think she’d be upset about it but that she’d forgive him for it anyway. She then gathered Jungkook into her arms, and they cuddled in bed for the first time in what felt like forever.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if Jiyoon would confront you at work over it, but as the days continued on without a peep from you, he figured things were okay between the two of you. There were times when Jungkook wished something had gone down with you and Jiyoon because then, at least, he’d have an excuse to talk to you in a way that didn’t make him look like he only cared about you now that you were possibly pregnant or with something work-related.

He knows these things take time, and there is only so much he can do. So, he’s been pouring himself into work and filling his schedule with as many activities as possible to keep his mind off of waiting.

“Jungkook, let’s go.” Taehyung raps his knuckles on Jungkook’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Head out of the clouds, daddy-o, we’re needed in hair and makeup.”

Sighing, Jungkook hauls himself off the couch in the studio waiting room and follows Taehyung into the space where the makeup and hair artists are set up. He arrived at the studio early this morning and had spent the last hour spilling his guts to Taehyung, something he promised himself he wouldn’t do but couldn’t keep it contained any longer.

“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grumbles.

Taehyung smirks. “What? Is that not what you’re hoping to be called? Don’t tell me you and Jiyoon are into daddy roleplay. That might make it a little weird to have your kid also call you daddy—ow!”

Rubbing the back of his head where Jungkook smacked him, Taehyung harrumphs before sidestepping the line of chairs and taking a seat in the one farthest from Jungkook.

“Fuck off, Taehyung. After everything I just told you, that’s all you have to say?”

Taehyung throws up his hands, and the hairdresser at his station begins to comb through his black tresses. “The way it seems to me, you’re the only one making a big deal about this. If you want to check on her, I’m sure she won’t think it’s only because she’s your possible surrogate and not because you’re friends after this. And sure, you stuck your fingers into your wife’s best friend’s vagina, but so what? It was what you needed to do. If I really needed you to touch my dick in order to complete an important procedure, I hope you’d do it with a smile on your face.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but closes it when he realizes he can’t really argue against that. Taehyung is right. He did what he had to do. Hell, he knows that, he used those words himself when explaining it to Jiyoon. There’s just this feeling he can’t shake, he’s far too nervous and on edge right now. If only you’d reach out, put him out of his misery with an update.

“I hate it when you’re right. I’ll stop being such a—”

“Hi, guys.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, only staff and models are allowed back here.”

“Whoa, hey, wait. She’s our manager, and she can be here.” Jungkook is quick to spout, not caring if there is desperation evident in his voice. Once his eyes landed on you, it was all he could do not to jump up from the makeup chair, cross the room, and drop to his knees and beg for an update.

The directing assistant who stepped in your path gives you a once-over that makes Jungkook grind his teeth, but he just sighs and steps to the side. “Okay, but you’re both needed on set in fifteen,” he says, directing the last part toward Jungkook and Taehyung.

“It’s okay, I won’t be long. I just…” You hold up a thin manilla envelope and give it a shake. “Jiyoon is out of the office for the day, she said I should let you see first and that you could tell her later tonight at home. So, here I am. I thought we could look together.”

The makeup artist dabbing a sponge on Jungkook’s jaw lifts an eyebrow when he jerks forward in the chair, intent on scrambling across the room despite being in the middle of blending.

“Two minutes,” she says, stepping back from Jungkook and turning to the makeup collection on her table.

“Okay!” Jungkook springs from the chair and rushes over to you, having no regard for the way his hair flops out of place on his forehead. “Hi,” he says when he’s standing in front of you. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment today.”

“I didn’t,” you tell him. “I just wasn’t feeling all that well this morning, so…well, I just wanted to ensure everything was okay. They had to do a pregnancy test, it was routine.” You offer the folder to him. “Want to do the honors?”

Jungkook’s fingers are trembling as he takes the folder from you. It takes him three tries to get the flap open and to extract the slip of paper inside. You give him an encouraging smile as he looks to you for reassurance before letting his eyes sweep over the report.

“It’s…we’re…you’re…holy fuck. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant! YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Jungkook shouts before breaking out into a bout of ecstatic laughter. “Fucking hell, oh my god, you’re pregnant! I’m going to be a father. Me. A father. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes!”

You join in his laughter, the sound pleasant and musical, as he throws his arms around you and spins you in a circle. There are shining tears in your eyes when he sets you down again, happiness clear on your face. “I’m pregnant,” you whisper, the words reverent and full of awe.

There have never been more beautiful words. Jungkook can’t help but say them again. “We’re pregnant.”

It’s hard to say if what Jungkook is feeling right now is considered a healthy response to what his wife, Jiyoon, just told him. But, the erratic beat of his heart paired with the incessant ringing in his ears doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just like he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience.

“Say that again,” he requests, softly smacking his lips, trying to work moisture back into his mouth.

Jiyoon sighs, shuffling the papers on her lap. “I’m pregnant,” she repeats the same words you said just two weeks ago.

“You’re certain?” Jungkook wants to believe he heard her correctly but can’t help asking for clarity again.

“I am.” Jiyoon smiles at Jungkook, her eyes watery. “It’s right here, look.”

Jungkook hesitantly takes the top sheet of paper from Jiyoon, letting his eyes devour the words and numbers on it. It’s all there, everything he needs to see and know for the truth—hCG levels far, far above average, an inked red circle around it along with a doctor’s barely legible scrawl of ‘pregnant’ beside that.

“How far along? It’s been—” Jungkook pauses to try to do the math in his head; it’s been weeks since they were last intimate—the night they agreed to do ICI.

“About eight weeks,” Jiyoon offers. “I suspected a few weeks ago, you know, when I was a little sick that weekend—the one when we found out about, well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up or disappoint you if it wasn’t true, especially after such good news…so I scheduled an appointment. I had to be sure, had to be certain.”

“You’re pregnant.” The words feel thick on Jungkook’s tongue, like he’s trying to talk through a mouthful of peanut butter; sweet, decadent peanut butter.

“I am,” she whispers, the confirmation turning into a squeal of laughter as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and shouts his own happiness.

Peppering kisses all over Jiyoon’s face, Jungkook hops around, alternating between shouting how much he loves her and how he can’t believe his luck. “I’m going to be a father. Twice! What did I do to deserve this?! I love you so much. Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Jiyoon giggles. “Put me down before you make me hurl.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Jungkook pants, setting Jiyoon back down on her feet. “I’m just so excited!” He wiggles his hips and shimmies his shoulders. “We’ll need to order a second crib. Should we have the babies share a room at first? That seems the easier option, right? I bet there is a book on that somewhere, I need to go—”

“Hey, calm, right?” Jiyoon’s smile is warm, soft. “We have time. There is no need to rush. Can we just enjoy this for a little while longer?” she asks, grabbing one of his hands and placing it over her belly.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Pressing his forehead to hers, Jungkook wraps his other arms around Jiyoon and sighs contentedly. “I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

💔💔💔

Jiyoon seems nervous, pushing around the chopped salad on her plate as she chews her bottom lip. She hasn’t met your eyes the entire time you’ve been at lunch. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you’ve been friends with her long enough to know that she’ll come to you with it when she wants, and pushing won’t do you any good.

“So,” she draws the word out, lips forming an exaggerated pucker.

“Yes?”

“How are you feeling?” You can tell that’s not what she wants to say or ask, but you indulge her anyway, hoping you’ll get to the actual matter of why she insisted on going to lunch with you today.

You shift in your seat, setting your fork down on your half-empty plate. “I feel good. I just have some nausea in the mornings sometimes, but it’s not too bad.”

Finally, Jiyoon’s eyes come up to meet yours. “I know what you mean,” she says, the words slow and enunciated—pointed. Her free hand flutters over her belly as if for emphasis.

“What?” The word is more breath than question. “You are?”

“I am,” Jiyoon confirms, tears shining in her eyes.

“Oh, my goodness! Jiyoon! What? But how? Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful!” You can’t contain your excitement for your friend, throwing yourself across the tabletop to hug her fiercely.

She’s laughing as you sit back down, clearly buzzing with her own excitement. “We just found out. It seems a miracle was in our cards after all. It’s still early, nine weeks or so now.” That would make it just two weeks, give or take, before you and Jungkook did the ICI.

“Wow,” you breathe, your own hand landing on your stomach. “They might as well be twins. It’ll be so cool—what?” Jiyoon’s frown stilts your excitement. “What is it?”

She casts her eyes away from yours again, pulling her full bottom lip between her teeth before letting it pop back out. “I don’t know. I just thought…it’s not too late if you wanted to—I just know it’s a lot on someone, your body, the pain and everything that comes after. And now that I’m pregnant, it’s just, we don’t expect you to continue…if you don’t want. We’d be completely understanding and fully supportive if you—”

“Termination? Is that…what you’re talking about? And Jungkook agrees?”

Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that word. I’m just saying that we will support your decision to do that if you’d like. It was never in the plans to have more than one child, and now it would be two newborns at the same time…that’s a lot, you know? Twice as many diapers, bottles, and sleepless nights. It would be hard to say goodbye, but we’d still love you and not think less of you for it.”

Your mouth feels too dry for you to form words. You know what she’s saying. Though there isn’t a single ounce of you that desires that, you also understand the hesitation Jiyoon is expressing. She’s right. There wasn’t a plan for two babies. So, what now? Do you volunteer to help? Do you seek out the advice of a lawyer to know where your parental rights might sit in the case they decide they don’t want the baby in the end? So many thoughts swirl through your mind that it makes you dizzy.

“Can I think about it?” you ask, feeling for the first time a wave of uncertainty.

Jiyoon gives you what you assume is supposed to be an assuring smile. “Of course. And if you decide not to, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of system. We’ll figure it out.”

She seems so sure that no matter your decision, it’ll all be okay. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I want—we want, these babies, even if we didn’t plan for two. I was just letting you know that there is that option if you want it.”

“I-I don’t think I do, but if that changes…I’ll let you know.”

“That’s all I ask! Now, tell me, what do you think it’ll be?” she asks, patting her flat stomach again. “A boy or a girl? I’m leaning more towards a boy…”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

Jungkook still can’t believe his life. Two babies—two extraordinary miracles, it’s surreal—perfect. His calendar has never been more full. There’s the regular schedule of photo shoots, meetings, and other client work but now those are penned in between the baby classes he’s signed up for and various doctor’s appointments.

One of which is scheduled this afternoon, just a few hours after another this morning. There is your ten-week and then Jiyoon’s three-month appointment. Things have been going great with the pregnancies being so close together, but it does sometimes make appointments and times overlap. Which is how Jungkook finds himself sprinting across the parking lot of Jiyoon’s doctor’s office. He’s late—really late. He didn’t mean to arrive so late. It’s just that your appointment ran a little longer than expected, and traffic wasn’t exactly on his side, either.

Just as Jungkook puts his hand on the handle to open the door to the doctor’s office, it swings outward, nearly smacking him in the face. Jiyoon glares at him, a peeved sigh escaping her.

“You missed it.”

“What? No. I still have—” he glances down at his watch. “The appointment should have lasted at least forty-five minutes, and it’s only been thirty.”

Jiyoon rolls her eyes. “They were able to get me in a few minutes early.” She pushes past him and starts towards her car. “Everything is fine, by the way. The baby is measuring small but is still healthy. Thanks for asking,” she snarks, holding up a length of printed film.

Jungkook grabs the strip from her hand, jogging to keep up with her angry strides. “Wow,” he whispers, looking down at the 2D images. “She’s beautiful, so tiny.”

“She? It could be a boy.”

“Is that what you hope it is?” Jungkook asks, skipping ahead of Jiyoon before turning and walking backwards in front of her. His eyes barely leave the black-and-white grainy images. He traces over the faintly-there contours of the face, the delicate nose and forehead.

Clicking the unlock button on her keyfob, Jiyoon sighs again. “I just want it to be healthy. I don’t care what gender it is.”

“You don’t care?” Jungkook purses his lips, finally looking up at his wife. She’s wearing a designer pantsuit, the deep navy complementing her porcelain complexion and making the red lip she has on pop beautifully. Pregnancy looks good on her. He opens his mouth to tell her so when she cuts him off.

“Don’t say it like that. Of course, I care. Good god, Jungkook, why do you have to make me feel like shit all the time? First you missed my appointment, because why? Because you were busy playing daddy to someone else. And now, here you are, accusing me of being a terrible mother before it’s even born. Fuck you. Fuck you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook is so confused. “What? I didn’t—playing daddy? What are you talking about? I already said I was sorry for missing the appointment, you know the times were really close. It was her ten-week appointment. They were measuring her nuchal translucency, you remember how important that is!”

“Whatever,” Jiyoon deadpans, pushing around Jungkook and climbing into her car. “I have a meeting tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

Before Jungkook can respond, the door slams shut, Jiyoon turns over the engine, and takes off. Maybe not everything is perfect, he laments to himself, mulling over his earlier thoughts. With a determined expression on his face, Jungkook makes his way to his own car and promises to do his best to make this right, vowing not to let something like this happen again.

Of course, it’s only some weeks later that Jungkook has to break this vow. It’s not his fault, it’s no ones. It seems that life just wants to test him, perhaps make sure he’s honing his time management skills for when the babies come.

Everything has been going great since his hiccup with missing Jiyoon’s twelve-week appointment. He’s been able to shuffle around his schedule and work with the both of you to ensure appointments don’t overlap or are too close together.

Jiyoon has become reliant on him, which is something Jungkook revels in. It’s like their marriage is finally back to the way it once was, full of nights cuddled in bed and romantic dinners—sans the wine. While you’ve been fiercely independent, yet charmingly sweet when it comes to Jungkook and Jiyoon and sharing the pregnancy experience with them.

There have been a few discussions about the fact that now there are going to be two babies instead of one. Jungkook has spent nearly all of his free time turning the guest bedroom into a nursery fit for two. His home gym has become a catch-all, most of the equipment being confined into a corner to make room for the furniture that came out of the guest room-now-nursery.

It’s been a lot, but it’s something Jungkook would never trade for anything in all the world. He’s positively jubilant over the prospect of being a father. It’s something he’s dreamed about for as long as he can remember. Now, it’s just a few months away, a permanent light in his life.

“J-jungkook?” your trembling voice sounds through his phone when he swipes to answer the call, tossing the paint roller into the bucket. Butter yellow coats the walls of the nursery and dots the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“I think so. I don’t know. I slipped on the stairs, I’m at the ER right now—”

“I’m on my way!”

“Jungkook, no. It’s okay. I know you have things going on today. I just thought I should tell you. Jiyoon was in a meeting, so Namjoon said he’d pass her a memo when she was done.”

He’s supposed to attend a First-Time Fathers class in an hour, and Jiyoon has her twenty-two-week anatomy scan this afternoon. The class can wait. If he’s lucky, he can go to the ER, check on you, and then make it to Jiyoon’s appointment.

“No, no, you’re not sitting in the ER by yourself. I’ll text Jiyoon and let her know that I’m leaving now to come check on you.”

“O-okay.”

The line disconnects, and Jungkook slaps the lid on the paint bucket and throws a plastic sheet over the paint tray. If it dries out, then it dries out. Paint can be replaced; your health is far more crucial right now.

Walking into the entryway, he thumbs open his messages and types out a quick text to Jiyoon before tossing his phone on the small bench by the door so he can pull on his shoes.

It’s a twenty-minute drive to the hospital, and it takes another ten minutes of searching to find you sitting in a waiting room with a large ice pack resting on your right foot.

“Hey, are you okay? Have you been seen yet? How long have you been here? What happened?”

You hold up a hand to ward off more of his word vomit, an embarrassed smile soft on your face. “Slow down, have a seat. I’m okay. They said I should be called back soon.”

Instead of sitting, Jungkook kneels on the floor in front of you. His fingers the ice pack, his face falling even further. “What happened?”

“I slipped in the stairwell at work, missed the last step and came down hard on the side of my foot.”

“Can I?” he asks, fingers moving to the corner of the ice pack.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Lifting it gently, Jungkook takes in the sight of your foot. The black ballet flats you’re wearing give him a clear view of the swelling that’s already beginning along the top and side of your foot.

“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”

Before you can answer Jungkook a nurse comes through one of the doors, pushing a wheelchair. She wheels it over to you and says, “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook slips his arm under yours as you stand before slowly helping you lower into the wheelchair. “Would you like to push her back?” the nurse asks Jungkook.

“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.

“Of course. Unless you’d rather wait out here, and I can call for you when your wife is done.”

“Oh, she’s not—”

“I’d like for you to come if that’s okay? I don’t really want to be alone,” you interject before Jungkook can correct the nurse. She gives Jungkook a polite nod and gestures towards the door she came through.

“Please come right this way. We’ll need to get a quick weight and a urine sample before I can get you into your room, where the doctor will see you shortly.”

Jungkook aids you the best he can, helping you to and from the wheelchair as he can. He almost asks if you want him to come into the restroom with you, but you give him a quick shake of your head before closing the door on him.

What feels like an eternity later, you’re finally settled on a bed with Jungkook sitting in the chair beside it.

“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “I know I said I wanted you to come back with me, and it’s not that I want you to leave, but please don’t feel obligated to stay. I know you have a lot of other things going on.”

Shifting his chair closer, Jungkook reaches for one of your hands. “Nonsense. I’m glad you called. I feel bad that I haven’t been to as many doctor’s appointments with you. I feel like it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve even seen you. I wish our schedules worked out a little better. Perhaps, as my manager, there’s something you can do about that?” he asks, giving you a jesting wink.

“I was trying to give you more time to go to Jiyoon’s appointments!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

“I know, but in case you forgot, you’re also carrying my child. Don’t get me wrong, though, the texts are great, and I really appreciate the weekly baby bump pictures, but it’d be nice to actually see you. Though, maybe next time, let’s make it not where you’re laid up in a hospital bed, not yet, at least,” he adds on with a low laugh.

This is the first time Jungkook has seen your bump in person. The soft swell under your shirt calls to him, and he wonders if it would be okay to touch it. As if you’re reading his mind, you take the hand that’s wrapped around yours and press it gently over your stomach.

“Kinda weird, huh?”

“No. No, not weird at all,” Jungkook says, being completely raw and honest with you. Jiyoon is touchy about her belly, pun wholly not intended, seeing as she doesn’t let him touch her bump nearly as much as he’d like to. She’s only recently started to show, and it’s hitting her hard, with which Jungkook tries to empathize. He can’t imagine being pregnant and how much a body changes; he’d probably feel things like that, too.

He spends a moment absorbing the feel, trying to imagine the little life growing just a few inches below his hand. Life he helped create. He’s so in awe he could cry…if it wasn’t for the door opening and breaking the momentary spell over him.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee. I’ll be your attending today. I hear you slipped down the stairs today and are worried your foot might be broken?” The cheery, middle-aged woman chatters away, washing her hands and drying them off before offering one to you and then to Jungkook.

“Yeah. I missed the last step and landed on the side of my foot pretty hard.” You shake your head with a rueful smile. “I should have just waited for the elevator.”

“Oh, ouch. Let’s take a look,” Dr. Lee coos. “May I?” She gestures to the blanket covering your feet. Jungkook helped you remove your shoes once you were in bed and tossed the blanket over your feet so they wouldn’t get cold.

“Of course.”

Dr. Lee pulls back the blanket and gently probes at your foot, turning it slowly side to side to get a better look. “Does this hurt?” she asks as she rotates your ankle.

“A little, not as much as putting pressure on it, though.”

The doctor nods. “I think it might be best if we do an x-ray just to be sure it’s not broken.”

“Won’t that be harmful to the baby?” Jungkook asks.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to protect your little one.” Jungkook nods his understanding. “Is it your first? You look a little green around the gills, first-time-father jitters.”

Jungkook isn’t entirely sure how to answer that. Because, technically…no? Considering Jiyoon is approximately two weeks further along than you are. Would that make her baby his first? A laugh, barely restrained, simmers deep in Jungkook’s chest.

“Something like that,” he finally says, earning another warm smile from the doctor.

“Alright, let’s get started so I can get you two out of here as soon as possible.”

The word ‘soon’ should be a relative term when it comes to hospitals—or a word that hospital staff is barred from using. Jungkook doesn’t mind spending the hours waiting with you. In fact, you’re pretty pleasant company. That’s not to say Jiyoon isn’t when Jungkook attends appointments with her; there’s just a different level of expectation, he thinks. He hopes this baby will have your patience and grace like that.

Jiyoon wants a quiet observer sitting in the corner, whereas you’re welcoming to his insights and curiosities. You haven’t hushed him a single time when he’s voiced a question of any of the medical staff. In fact, it almost seems like you welcome it, comfortable in letting him show his concern for you.

Thankfully, the x-ray showed no break or fracture. You’ve been given a temporary boot to wear for the next week and strict instructions not to overdo it. “Got it,” you say once the nurse has finished explaining everything to you.

“Now, before we discharge you, we would like to have a sonographer brought in to check on the baby. According to your charts and file, you’re at the twenty-week mark now.”

Jungkook stands up, panic worming its way in. “Should we be worried? Is everything okay?”

The nurse gives him a motherly smile. “That’s what we would like to check.” She turns her attention to you. “You didn’t fall on your belly, but with any trauma to the body, it never hurts just to be sure.”

Of course. That makes sense to Jungkook, but he looks to you for confirmation. “Yeah? You want to do that?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Jungkook has only attended two live ultrasounds in all the doctor’s appointments he has been to. He has many printed ultrasound images that are now stuck to the refrigerator at home, one side for Jiyoon and the other for you. But he’s only managed to attend one for Jiyoon and one for you, so this will be a wonderful treat.

“Okay, they’ll be here in just a moment.”

A few moments pass after the nurse leaves the room, and Jungkook allows himself to truly assess his internal feelings. He’s thankful that you’re okay and will feel even more at ease once the ultrasound confirms the baby is alright, too. It’s wild for Jungkook to think that just a few months ago, his life felt like it was on the verge of falling apart. There was a steadily growing rift between him and Jiyoon, and you were just Jiyoon’s best friend.

Now, however, he feels closer than ever to his wife, and you’ve managed to carve out your own little pocket in his heart, too. It’s alarming, yet comforting, to realize that there is something more between you and him—a deepening connection that’s still delicate but growing more solid with each passing day.

“You feeling okay?” Your voice breaks through Jungkook’s reverie.

“Hm? Me? I’m great,” he assures, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You’ve barely let his hand go the entire time, to which Jungkook won’t complain. “Does it hurt much?” Jungkook nods toward the end of the bed, where your feet are back under the blanket.

You shrug. “It’s not so bad while laying here.”

“Hi!” a bubbly voice calls from the door a second before a young blond woman wheels an imaging cart into the room. “Are we ready to get a look at your little one before you guys go home?”

“Yep.” You give Jungkook’s hand a light squeeze. “Excited?” you ask in a soft voice meant only for him.

“Very,” he tells you, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Now, this won’t be nearly as good as if we were in radiology in an exam room, but all we really want is to get a look to make sure everything is okay. Besides, who doesn’t want to take a peek when you get the chance, right?”

The tech, with Jungkook’s assistance, helps you adjust on the bed until you’re in a comfortable position for the ultrasound. Jungkook feels frozen as you tug your blouse up and over your belly, giving him his first real glimpse of the swell in all its glory. It’s one thing to see it through your shirt, another thing entirely to see it like this.

“Cold,” you chuckle as the tech squeezes a glob of contact gel onto your lower belly.

“Sorry about that, these carts unfortunately don’t have the warmers on them. Ah, here we are,” she sing-songs when she smoothes the wand over the gel. “Look at that.”

Jungkook tears his eyes from your face, focusing his gaze on the imaging machine's display screen. His breath stutters in his lungs, and a wave of pure, unrestrained joy washes over him.

“They’re perfect,” he says, voice thick with emotion. Jungkook watches as an arm moves across the screen, followed by a little kicking foot.

“Seeing them never ceases to take my breath away.” You take the words right out of Jungkook’s mouth.

The tech hums, giving you a soft smile as she moves the wand around to different angles. “No gender yet?” she asks. “I’ll try to be careful here, don’t want to have any spoilers…unless you would like to know?”

It’s hard not to be curious. “Is it not too early to tell?” Jungkook asks.

Turning the screen slightly away from you and Jungkook, the tech says, “Um, nope. Not too early. Everything looks good, though. So, if you’d rather wait, we can get cleaned up and be done here.”

“What do you say?” Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow.

Your teeth leave a dent in your bottom lip as you worry it for a moment. Another thing he thinks would be cute to see his mini-me do. “I kind of want to, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he admits, loving the fact that you do.

“Okay, wonderful. In that case,” the tech says before moving the screen back and adjusting the wand on your belly. “Take a look here.”

When Jungkook arrives home, the sun has long since gone down, but he’s so high on cloud nine that he can’t bring himself to care. The large smile on his face hasn’t slipped in the slightest.

Jungkook is certain nothing can bring him down. At least, that is, until he walks through the front door of his condo and straight into hell. Jiyoon is sitting at their dining table, her expression completely devoid of emotion.

“Hey, babe. What’s going on?” Jungkook hesitantly asks, eyes sweeping the open layout and taking note that the only light on is the recessed one directly over Jiyoon. His smile slowly fades, replaced with a crease between his brows.

“What’s going on?” she asks in a cold voice.

“Is everything okay?”

Jiyoon sniffs, her eyes narrowing, the first sign of emotion he’s seen since he walked in. “No. Everything is not okay.”

“O…kay,” Jungkook draws the word out, letting his mind flip through its internal catalog, trying to find pieces of the puzzle to put together.

“Where have you been?”

“There was an accident. Did you get the note from—”

“You’ve not answered any of my calls or texts.”

“I sent you a text before I left. I think I misplaced my phone, I can’t seem to find—”

“You missed my appointment!” she sneers, cutting him off once more. “And you did not text me. I haven’t heard from you since this morning.”

Realization hits, and the warmth drains from Jungkook’s face. He was so focused on everything with you, the panic and then the joy, that he completely spaced on everything else he should have done today. But also…

“I swear I texted you to let you know I was going to the hospital. I was going to make sure everything was okay.” As soon as your name falls from his lips Jiyoon shoves back from the table and rounds it, getting in his face. “She slipped at work and thought she might have broken her foot. Namjoon was supposed to give you a note about it since you were in a meeting. She called me. I was worried. I didn’t mean to miss your appointment. Were they able to determine the gender?”

Jiyoon jabs a finger in the center of his chest. “Not. Good. Enough. I’m your wife, not her! You’re supposed to be with me! Instead, you spend all your fucking time with your nose up her ass when you barely even know her!” Jungkook staggers back as her poke turns into a fully-palmed shove. “You’re un-fucking-believable! What a goddamn joke.”

“Jiyoon, that’s not fair. Something could have been wrong with the baby. It was an emergency,” Jungkook says, trying to make Jiyoon see reason.

It doesn’t work.

“Fuck you! Why do you care so fucking much about that stupid baby?! All you do is fawn over the photos and re-read her text updates! This,” she gestures wildly at her stomach, “is the baby you should care about! Yet you can’t even show up when it counts.”

“You can’t be serious. This is ridiculous.” Jungkook keeps his tone level, refusing to be baited into a knock-down-drag-out with her.

“No!” Jiyoon screams, making Jungkook flinch. “You are ridiculous.” Suddenly a menacing smile cuts across her face. “I bet you slept with her. Didn’t you? That’s it, you’re feeling possessive because you fucked my best friend, and that’s how she got knocked up, isn’t it?”

Jiyoon’s words spark a ringing in Jungkook’s ears. “What?” he whispers, the word barely forming.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Jungkook. I know you too well for that. Let’s not forget your little slip-up—” she throws up air quotes as she says that “—the night you supposedly did ICI.”

“I told you it was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it!”

Sarcasm is a heavy, bitter layer in Jiyoon’s reply, “You just so happened to touch her clit? Just a little oopsie, so innocent. You’re too nice to outright lie to me, so, of course, you come up with some half-truth, expecting me to believe that you didn’t want it, that you weren’t secretly gnawing at the opportunity to try and seduce my best friend!”

“That is not what happened at all!”

“So I’m supposed to believe my pathetically inexperienced best friend is the one that seduced you, then?”

“What? That’s not what I said at all. No one seduced anyone. You’re being fucking crazy right now. You know I’d never do that to y—”

The crack of Jiyoon’s palm against his jaw stuns him into silence. “Don’t you dare call me crazy!” she screams. “You’d never do that to me? Yeah, right. You’re a man, and that’s what men do! Heaven forbid a woman works hard and spends time away from the home, trying to provide for her family. Is that it? I’m gone too much for your sad little dick, so you have to chase after the first desperate pussy that comes your way?”

Jungkook presses his fingers over the searing heat licking up his jaw where her hand struck him. “Jiyoon, no, it’s not like that at all,” he says, losing his momentum because he’s not sure what he can say at this point to make her see reason. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“Fucking my best friend because she’s convenient and out of spite for me being gone so much? No, that sounds exactly like something you would do. Well, looks like it’s your lucky day because two can play that game, asshole. Enjoy your fucking prize!”

Jungkook jerks back, as if Jiyoon just slapped him again. “What does that mean?”

She laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “This baby—” she seethes, rubbing over the small swell of her belly, voice rising with every word “—it’s not yours, you pathetic bastard!”

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-04-25 ColorMePurplex2

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

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rbfclassy · 5 months ago

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heyy! can you please write something with geto being a nonchalant person but then he meets this girl that’s got him so intrigued, she seems innocent at first but the more they talk the more he realises she isn’t and she’s all he thinks about, at work at home everywhere and obv he starts being a perv and thinks pervy things about her but when he tells her she’s like “that’s what I was going for, glad it worked” so he’s HOOKED also pls pls pls need some size kink there🤲🏼🤲🏼 thank uuu

NOT SO INNOCENT! — GETO SUGURU

SYNOPSIS...when a not so innocent girl like you gets geto’s head spinning, and little does he know that it’s on purpose

INFO...geto x fem!reader, they’re in college, touching, dirty thoughts, jerking off, dirty talk, making out, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you for the request anon!

You were Geto’s new class partner, paired up for a project that you guys both had in chemistry. He’s never talked to you before, but he knew you were smart, and quiet, always stayed to yourself. He was hoping with you around that you’d both pass with an easy A, usually opting out of working with others unless it was his best friend—he is sometimes even hard to tolerate.

You’d try sparking a conversation with him, trying to get him to open up, trying to make jokes, he was going to be your partner after all. But, all he did was give dry responses or ignore you, settling for just working in silence instead. But as the days went on, you never failed to keep talking to him, going on about the annoying professor in your history class. He won’t lie, you’ve earned a chuckle from him or two, but still, he would always act nonchalant.

Then, the light touches started after a few weeks, your hand brushing over his when reaching for something, sneaking by him and accidentally rubbing your ass against him. Not to mention when you leaned over the table, your tits threatening to spill out of your cute top while explained some stupid equation to him. Was he not supposed to stare? His eyes would flicker up to your lips, taking notice of the tinted pink lipgloss you wore. He just stared and stared, nodding his head at what you were saying as if he was listening—he couldn’t hear a thing.

He hated to admit that every night when he got back home from working with you, he’d find himself pent up, a tent in his pants, aching to the touch. He’d groan in annoyance because what was it even about you that got him so worked up like this? You’re practically some nerdy, shy girl that he’s partnered up with. Or were you?

One late night in library answered his burning question. That focused look on your face, writing down your notes from your computer as he tapped his pen on the table, staring at you. His eyes narrowed as you stretched, looking away from your computer and back at your notes, when suddenly your pen dropped under the table. “Oh no,” you mumbled, quickly getting on your hands and knees. Geto just sighed, looking back down at his paper to realize he had one sentence written down. He rolled his eyes, but they quickly shot open when he felt your hands on his thighs, so dangerously close to touching his clothed dick. “Got it!” You spoke from under the table and removed your hands from him, sitting back in your chair. Surely that was just an accident, just like the rest of them.

That night, Geto wasn’t even able to make it back home without pulling over in some empty parking lot and jerking off to the thought of you. Every single day and night, you cloud his brain, picturing your soft tits, your plump lips, the way your hands feel on him, and how your ass pushes up against him. God, you’re starting to drive him fucking crazy. He doesn’t like it…he loves it. “Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, tossing his head back as he grows closer to his orgasm. His eyes are screwed shut, imaging it’s your hands that are making him feel this good, and before you know it he’s cumming so much, broken moans filling up the empty space of his car.

And the next day, he goes about meeting you up at the library like nothing happened, like he didn’t just jerk off to the thought of you last night. “Hey, Suguru!” You greet with a cute smile, waving at him. He waves back, setting his things down at the table you usually work at. A few hours go by and he’s looking at books on the shelf, trying to find one that relates to your project topic and here you go, walking up to him. “Excuse me,” you say, brushing up against him once again.

Hie clenches his teeth and before he can even think, he snatches your wrist and pulls you towards him. You let out a little squeak, staring up at with confused eyes. “What do you think you’re doing, huh?” He asks, yelling in a whisper.

“What…what do you mean?” You question, your chest flushed against his, the grip on your wrist still tight.

His nostrils flair and he inhales deeply. “Stop playing so innocent. I know what you’re doing, y/n. Always rubbing your ass against me, having your tits out in my face, the accidental touches near my dick. You’re driving me fucking crazy, you know that?” He stares down at you. “Every fucking day and night I’m constantly thinking about you, getting so fucking turned on, hot and bothered, jerking off to the thought of you touching me. Fuck…” He exhales.

A small smile starts forming on your face before you start giggling, looking up at him. A confused look is plastered on Geto’s face. “Oh my gosh, took you long enough,” you laugh. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice for so long, Suguru. I’m so glad it worked.” You placed your hand on his chest, inching your lips closer to his.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said in disbelief. “Fuck you.”

“Oh? When and where? I’ve been practically waiting for that moment.” You smile at him, pushing him against the library wall. “Should we do it right here, hm? Where no one can see us?” You slowly start sinking down to your knees.

“Get up off the floor before someone sees you!” He pulls you back up to your feet, looking around to make sure no one saw the both of you. You laugh in his face, leaning against him.

“Come on, I know you wanna fuck me! I see the way you stare at me, and based on what you just told me…you’re quite desperate.” You reach your hand up to his face, the pad of your thumb ghosting over his pink lips. “I am too,” you whisper.

He stares back at you with dark eyes, and you could tell he’s holding everything back no matter how hard it is, but one more word from you and you’ll shatter that wall and make him lose all control. He can’t help himself when it comes to you.

“Please, Suguru.” The sound of his name rolling off your tongue goes straight to his dick and he realizes he can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck…fuck, okay, okay. Come here.” He pulls you in for a hungry kiss as if he was a starving man. His plump lips colliding with yours, tongues messily moving against each other. At this point, he doesn’t care if anyone catches you both, he just needs to feel you wrapped around him so badly right now. You drive him insane.

yes I left it on a cliffhanger (sorry for being devious)

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brabblesblog · 11 months ago

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In time.

When you and Astarion finally begin sharing one tent, there is one little problem: you needing some me time. Mostly fluff with like some smut?

Aka Astarion catches you during some fun solo time, and it becomes the start of his and your path to sleeping together again.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

You've started a habit of attempting to sneak away.

The transition from having your own space, to this, was mostly easy. You did have a fair amount of stuff, and so moving in was a whole day of arguing about where to put your books and whether your various items collected from your adventure was worth keeping or not.

Finally fed up, Astarion had rooted through your pack, finding a pot, a cutting board, and a pair of old shoes, which he had attempted to dispose of. That in itself had resulted in a small argument, in which you tried to say you were keeping these items to sell to Blurg. In the end, you had won, and those items remained nice and safe at the bottom of your pack.

As the days passed, however, cohabiting in one tent became mostly bearable. Mostly.

It only really sucked when you got horny. And being this close to him all the time made it inevitable.

Hence your new habit.

Usually, sneaking off to get your own privacy in a little patch of nowhere was relatively easy. You'd wait for him to go into meditation or sleep (depending on whichever he chose that day), his small soft snores to fill the air, and then you'd slip away to rub out your urges. It never took long. Fifteen minutes and you'd be back, snuggling against him for the rest of the night.

From tonight on, however, was going to be a different matter. As the group traveled closer and closer to Moonrise, Halsin had decided to tighten security around camp, and had decided to assign shifts for everyone to keep guard. Your shift, and Astarion's, wouldn't be until dawn.

You lay in your bedroll, frustrated. You can hear Lae'zel outside, pacing as she stood guard. There was no way you were going to be able to sneak off without her asking, and you would rather die than tell her what you were heading out for.

Astarion lay beside you, eyes closed and breathing softly, his arm draped over you. Shooting his sleeping form an exasperated look, you sigh and give up on the attempt to head out.

However, if you just stayed silent... hm.

You slowly slide a hand down your own torso, down past your hips and between your legs, down to your aching cunt.

You close your eyes and let out a sigh of relief. Much better. Your fingers find your clit, already swollen and begging for release. With two fingers you gently touch yourself, biting back any noise you could potentially make.

Being this close to him while doing this made it all the better. Feeling his arm around your waist, his soft breaths against your nape, the weight of him against your back - it was all so amazing.

With your eyes squeezed shut and your entire being focused between your legs, you don't notice his eyes open in the dark.

"Didn't think you'd be so daring as to do it in here, darling."

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and your eyes fly open.

"Shit," you mutter. "Look. I just - I didn't want you to-"

He laughs, and you realize that there isn't anything to worry about. He's just amused, and you realize he's known every single time you've snuck out.

"I know," comes the reply. "Feel free to continue. Far be it from me to come between you and your hunger."

He leans in, and then whispers, "besides. I do like knowing I make you feel like this."

You think about this for a quick moment.

“I don’t want to hurt you, or trigger anything-“

“You won’t,” comes the reply, fast and without hesitation. Instead, the arm on your waist tugs you closer, and he lays his head on your chest.

“Keep going,” he murmurs. “I’ll just be here to keep you company.”

You hesitate for a moment more, and then finally give in and resume touching yourself. As you do, he wraps himself more tightly around you, slowly moving his head upwards to bury his nose against the base of your throat.

He lets out a soft, sleepy sigh, and the sensation of his lips and breath against your skin is a very welcome feeling.

Just his mere presence helps. Your fingers work faster, and you bite back a moan as you feel yourself getting closer. Astarion notices it too; he lifts his head up to watch you, utterly fascinated.

You part your lips, a silent moan on them. You’re right at the edge. Your eyes open, and meet his gaze.

He smiles, a soft, genuine thing, and whispers.

“Come for me, darling.”

And so you do. You whimper involuntarily, and the noise you make is immediately lost as his lips cover yours and he kisses you through your orgasm.

When you finally come down from the high, you open your eyes to see him smirking at you.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“Every single time, darling. I loved knowing exactly just how I made you feel,” he purrs.

“Twat.” You swat at his hand.

“Since we’ve already established that I do know and am comfortable with this.. current arrangement, do feel free to continue to do so at any time,” Astarion pecks your cheek.

“Besides. I’m sure in time I can join in on the festivities.”

The subtle shift his hips make as he says this tells you all you need to know. But of course you do not push.

In time could mean now, or never, but you don’t really care.

You had everything you’d ever need the moment he agreed to be yours.

Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x you #pale elf #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #bg3 fic

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago

Text

Second part to this old fic I made since ppl wanted a part two.

It was difficult but with some persistence, determination and fear of losing your grip on Benjicot several times, you single-handedly managed to get the young Blackwood lord to his bed just as Alysanne followed by a maester entered the chambers.

Alysanne, somehow able to read the emotions on your face, placed a hand upon your shoulder reassuringly as the maester got to work looking over Benjicot. ‘He’ll be okay.’ She assured you, smiling softly, ‘he’s tougher than he looks.’ She adds upon seeing that you weren’t so convinced. After all most of your childhood with Benjicot was spent knowing him as a sweet boy who could do no harm to anything or anyone, it wasn’t until someone was testing their luck with this, did you finally see just how capable Benji could be in a fight.

However despite this you still held that imagine of that sweet, awkward boy in your heart dearly, only to feel it ache and throb in pain when you saw him being dragged into Raventree Hall bloodied, bruised and on the verge of collapse.

‘I know.’ You sighed, wincing when you saw the injuries Benjicot sustained once the dried blood and mud was removed, there was surly going to be a scar on his upper lip and his nose would now forever would heal slightly crooked, but none of that mattered to you but seeing his stormy eyes once again to assure you himself that he was going to be okay. ‘But until he awakes, I shall assume that the Bracken did more damage than presumed.’

Alysanne smiled softly at you, finding your worry and protectiveness over her nephew as sweet as his protectiveness over you. In her eyes you and Benjicot were the perfect match and she would often remind him that he was of age where he should be looking for a betrothal, and every time she brings this up, Benjicot would always act like he didn’t hear her or act skittish and accidentally look in your direction without meaning to.

Benjicot was so oblivious that Alysanne has to reframe from bluntly suggesting that he should just marry you since he was so smitten with you, for she knew if she did then Benjicot would withdraw from asking you your hand in his own time. This doesn’t stop her from getting tired and on the verge of madness of seeing you looking at her nephew as though he hung the stars in the sky as he talked you about the traditions of house Blackwood. You were just as smitten with her nephew that she was one lining look away from announcing your betrothal to Benjicot herself, you were perfect for each other, but were far too skittish and fearful to see such truths in front of you both.

‘Then shall I take this as you volunteering to keep my nephew company during his healing?’ Alysanne asked, raising a brow at you as she saw you stiffen and become slightly flustered of being in close quarters with Benjicot for prolonged periods throughout the day, and potentially night.

‘I didn’t I-‘

‘Good, then you shall make sure Benjicot doesn’t do anything reckless upon awaking and keep him within his chambers until the maesters deem him healthy enough to venture out.’ Alysanne cuts you off and pats your shoulder just as the maester finished looking Benjicot over one last time before addressing you and Alysanne both.

‘The young lord shall make a full recovery but will require someone to oversee his healing progress.’ The maester then looks over at you with a kind smile, ‘I assume Lady Alysanne has assigned you that position?’ He then asks you as you look between the Maester and Alysanne, realising that no one was going to get you out of this, and sighed. ‘Yes, I shall oversee Lord Blackwood healing progress and promise to keep him within his room until further notice.’ You tell the maester who shares a look with Alysanne as she mirrors the look back at the Maester.

‘We shall leave you be then.’ Alysanne then said as she motioned for the maester to follow her out of Benjicot’s chambers, though not before giving you a knowing wink. ‘I wish you the best of luck with my nephew, he’s partially fond of you and would listen to you if he knows what’s good for him.’ She tells you but before you could ask her what she meant by that, the door shut and you were left with an unconscious Benjicot.

‘Y/n…’ you swore you heard him mutter under his breath, raspy and slightly breathless.

Or maybe not?

#hotd imagines #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fic #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon x reader #benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #Benjicot Blackwood imagine #Benjicot Blackwood imagines #ben blackwood x reader #bloody ben x reader #bloody ben x you

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scribblesofagoonerr · 7 months ago

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Finding Light In The Darkness

Anon requested angst, I wrote it... I hope this suffices!

I secretley loved to write this one-shot, not sure if I'll make another part to it, but let me know your thoughts.

Pairings: caitlin foord x teen reader, katie mccabe x teen reader Warnings: heavy angst.

You've always found life hard, you'd not exactly had the best start in life, it had been cruel and you'd always felt unwanted.

You finally found a real family when you're taken in by your adoptive parents, Katie and Caitlin. You finally thought you had found happiness.

It was all going so great, until it wasn't.

Word began to get round your school about your recent adoption, your true idenity was whispered throughout the school and as a result, you were also left with hateful comments all over your social media.

It was easy to ignore at first, you blocked them out. You remembered the words that your mam would always tell you.

"Ignore them, Y/N/N. They're just jealous"

So you did just that, you put your head down and focused on the positive things in life, things seemed better... Or at least so you thought.

You should have known that nothing in life was so simple, nothing was.

"You don't deserve to be adopted by them"

"You're nothing but a waste of space"

"They'll send you back eventually"

Sitting there on your bed, you couldn't help but scroll through the various messages that bombarded your recent Instagram post, it was a harmless family photo. Why was there such negative comments on it?

The tears were quick to well up in your eyes as you read each and every single comment, feeling the weight of them like a heavy burden on your shoulders.

Through the last several months, you had picked up on several bad habits that you were successfully able to hide from your mom's.

You were desperate for the escape, you craved something to numb the pain and you found yourself reaching for your vape that you had cleverly hidden away.

Taking a deep inhale, you let the thick clouds of smoke fill your room but it did very little to ease the ache in your heart.

It just wasn't enough anymore and you needed something stronger.

Routing through your wardrobe, you successfully found the bottle of Vodka that you'd hidden and you don't waste any time in unscrewing the cap of it and taking a short swig. The liquor brought a burning sensation to your throat, but at least it did the trick to provide a tempory distraction.

Being the daughter of two professional athletes, you should have known how dangerous it was to vape, but the delicious flavours were enough to keep you hooked and keep going back for more.

Taking another swig of the bottle, your tears falling freely while your lost in your own thoughts, so you don't hear the door creak open and your mum poking her head round the door.

"You okay, kiddo? You're quiet today" Caitlins' expression is full of concern while her voice is gentle and soothing, yet to notice the bottle of vodka that you're quick to shove behind your pillow.

Your heart clenched at the worry in the older woman's eyes and your quick to wipe away the tears, trying to compose yourself, "Uh yeah, I'm fine, Mum. It's just been a bit of a rough day" You replied, trying to force a smile on your face which didn't quite reach your eyes.

Caitlin stepped closer towards where you slumped on your bed, her hand reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, "You don't seem fine, kiddo. We've barely seen you since you got in from school" she noted, gently. "What happened at school? You can talk to me, kiddo"

You were hesistant to tell either of your mums what was going on, you didn't want to worry either of them with the weight of your own struggles pressing down on them, "Just the usual stuff, I'm okay" You mumbled, fumbling with your hands.

Caitlin didn't seem quite so convinced as she furrowed her eyebrows in concern, "Y/N/N, kiddo. Please talk to me" she tried to get you to open up, but it wasn't any use.

"No, I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine!" Your quick to lash out, flinching and pulling your hand away when your mum tried to hold it as you flash her a scowl, "I don't want to talk, mum. Please just leave me alone!"

The Australian woman is shocked with the change of your behaviour, "Y/N, I just want to help you, but I can't do that if you won’t talk to me, kiddo" she told you honestly.

"I told you that I'm fine, I don't want to talk about anything!" Your still screaming and lashing out, the spirit bottle falling down and it was now on clear view for your mum to be able to see.

Before you have chance to hide it again, your mum noticed it, "Y/N, have you been drinking?" she asked, the concern was clear in her voice, "How... Where did you even get this?"

Having heard the commotion from downstairs, Katie rushed upstairs to find out what was going on, shocked to hear the tailend of the conversation.

"You've been drinking?!" Katie was enraged, shocked to find you with a bottle of vodka that you had somehow got your hands on.

"It's not a big deal" You shrugged your shoulders, trying to avoid giving any type of explanation about this.

Katie's eyes widened in disbelief with your sudden streak of reckless behaviour, "Not a big deal? It is a big deal when you're 15 years old!" she said, frustrated with your carless attitude, "How could you be so stupid to do something like this-- What else have you been doing?!"

"Katie! Calm down. We need to talk about this rationally" Caitlin turned to look at her partner, knowing it wouldn't be any good to be frustrated about any of this, "Kiddo, talk to us, please? Where did you get the alcohol? You shouldn't be drinking when your underage, kiddo"

"I'm... I'm sorry" The tears stream down your face, the raw vunerability evident in your voice, clear as day.

"Talk to us kiddo" Caitlin's gentle presence was like a lifeline and you found yourself able to open up to them both.

"The hates too much, I can't cope... The bullies at school, the trolls online; I needed to find a way to numb the pain. It's too much" You tearfully confess to them, no matter how much you try and keep the tears at bay, they just just keep streaming down your face.

"It's okay. Its' going to all be okay" Caitlin is quick to embrace her daughter in her arms, wanting to just take her pain away.

"Oh kiddo" Katie spoke up, her worry now outweighing her initial frustration that she had at first, "Kiddo, I know it's a lot to deal with, but listen to me, yeah? Drinking isn't something that will make the pain go away, nothing like that. We're here for you, no matter what"

"Exactly, we're here for you. We'll go down to the school and we'll sort it out. It's going to be okay, kiddo" Caitlin chimed in, brushing your loose hairs out of your face as she just held you in your arms.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you now that you had confessed what had been going on; You were finally safe, you had your two mums' by your side and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would now have the strength to face them head on.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal women x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #heavy angst #katie mccabe x reader #caitlin foord x reader #scribblesofagoonerr

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kysuguru · 1 year ago

Text

two out of three. that’ll work — stsg x fem!reader

synopsis : gojo still doesn’t take to you, but in the throes of your eyes geto’s smile is prettier and shoko’s personality is much more welcoming. you’ll live.

all mine masterlist

includes / cw : nothing ^_^

a / n : i’m sooooo sooo so sorry for such a long wait, truly. i nitpick HELLA. and i want everyone to remember this book was made on a whim. an impulse book if u will. so even though i have concrete ideas and outlines for the main plots, i’m writing as i go while making my way there. I trashed this about three times before finally coming to a conclusion i was somewhat satisfied with. please enjoy

You lay awake, staring at the ceiling of your dorm absentmindedly. Your alarm has yet to ring. It’s presumably thirty minutes before you have to get up and prepare for the day. Your eyes are burning and it hurts to blink, your throat feels dry and scratchy; aching for its thirst to be quenched, and your body is exhausted beyond belief. Your brain craves rest more than anything, but you still aren’t able to succumb to that sweet sleep you crave. It’s been about 15 minutes already, you think. If the steadily rising sun is anything to go by. Time passes by fast when you need it to be slow. Maybe it’s the nerves. Or the fact that it wasn’t until midnight that you returned to your dorm.

Five hours of sleep was the minimum you could get, your brain didn’t let you rest long. But you figured you’d be alright. Whenever curses were near your house, one instance of one being in your bedroom, you remember not sleeping at all if not at least 30 minutes. You got in trouble that day and scolded by your mother for sleeping in class.

As of now, your eyes are droopy and red and your body feels cramped. But the accomplishment you feel after understanding more of this foreign world of curses overrode your exhaustion. You’re not sure if you feel that same sentiment now though. You cursed your past self for putting you through such strain. Your thirst for knowledge occasionally brought you one step forward and two steps back. Being all knowing was the only way you felt significant.

As of the moment, it was one of those instances where your yearning hurt more than it nourished. Though, it was all really fascinating. Cursed energy, cursed techniques, and how they worked and came to be, there wasn’t a second you could bring yourself to put the books down. To believe the negative emotions of people fester into those horrid creatures…

It’s no wonder they were around every single corner of your school.

You’re embarrassed to say you still have no idea what your technique is, or the innate technique you were born with — or if you had an innate technique for that matter. From what you know being born with an innate technique isn’t all that likely. They manifest from ages 4-6 yet no matter how much you shuffled through your memories to see if there were any instances where you were forced to use your technique, you’re left with nothing. Maybe you did and just don’t know or don’t remember — that’s the most irritating part. You grip your hair slightly, eyes burning into the white of your walls.

There are bags forming under your eyes, you think. It hurts a bit to blink, since you got accustomed to keeping them open while flipping through books, the intrigue not allowing you to divert your attention from the pages for even a second. But to you, it was worth it. One more step to learning about this and making your way back home. To where your mother was (hopefully) missing you just as much as you do her. Maybe you should get up and attempt to cover up the evidence of your lack of sleep.

You turn to lay on your side, staring at your open palm. If you look close enough you can see a faint scar. You clench your fist closed, blinking groggily. Your breathing starts to get steadier as you stare at your knuckles, your eyes feel as if weights are pulling them down, your mind wanders to random things you don’t remember thinking about a millisecond later.

Before you know it, you’re falling asleep.

Though the three seconds of bliss was nice while it lasted, before the familiar obnoxious beep of your alarm clock rang through your ears.

You sigh. You should’ve expected that. Your mind slipped once you woke and you forgot to turn that damned thing off. Though maybe that mistake was a blessing, being late to your first day of class would be a horrible first impression. Or would it be second..?

Now you stand in the mirror and eye your uniform with intense uncertainty. You have an inkling that you look stupid. So you tug your skirt down a little bit. Ok, now you look 12. You pull up the hem.

…

Maybe you should add stockings.

The addition is better, you deduce. You’re content with this. You smile at your reflection, speaking encouraging words to yourself internally. You feel your body shake a bit at the idea of entering the classroom, the thought of four pairs of eyes glued to your form, but your body relaxes slightly at the memory of Shoko. She called you her friend, whether or not it was genuine, you’ll take what you can get. There is no point in being greedy and craving for what you don’t have — or deserve.

You lift your leg and adjust the back of your shoe to fit over the sole of your feet properly. You huff in satisfaction, standing straight and adjusting whatever you could before heading out.

Wait. Do you need supplies? Shit, now you’re nervous all over again.

Wait, wait, wait. If you needed supplies, you would’ve been informed earlier, so if required, Yaga should be obligated to give you what you don’t have.

…That’s unless he did mention it and you just weren’t listening.

Your back is against your dorm room door as you grip your head in agony. Maybe you should just tell Yaga you got the one-day flu and figure it all out tomorrow.

“Yo. You look like an idiot doing that.”

The voice is familiar, but not familiar in the way you’d like. He was no Geto, and he definitely wasn’t Shoko. You look up, eyes watery, and meet Gojo’s gaze.

“You going through something? Wait, don't answer that, I don’t wanna know,” He says, waving his hand obnoxiously, his lips downturned. “Hate to interrupt whatever’s goin’ on, but class is in thirty minutes. If you’re anything like Suguru you’re an early bird, right?”

“Oh.. sort of,” You respond, trying to discreetly wipe whatever tears that might’ve formed. He watches you do it anyway, following your movements closely. You’re a little humiliated now. He probably thinks you’re pathetic.

His stare is unrelenting, you can feel it even behind those pitch black lenses. It burns into you. Through you. You drop his gaze, eyes on the floor as you shuffle your feet.

Did he need anything else? You’re grateful he let you know when class begins, but you two aren’t exactly best friends, and you're positive this is awkward for the both of you.

But you see his shoes from your peripheral view and they stay rooted to the floor. You hold back a shaky sigh.

“Are you heading to class right now?” You ask in hopes to get rid of the suffocating silence. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to starting conversations. Your eyes are still memorizing every dirt particle on your new shoes (which feel odd to wear, you’re so used to staring anxiously at the ones your mother gifted you a year or two ago). Why did he, out of all people, approach you during your crisis? You wished more than anything that it was Shoko, but from what you know about her alone, you’re more sure than ever that she doesn’t go to class early.

“I don’t usually go early, that’s Suguru’s thing. But I guess todays an exception.” You blink, he has a lot to say. You expected a short, clipped answer. “Anyways what’re you doing out here, and what was with the gripping your head thing? Going through a phase?” He asks a barrage of questions, making sure to push his glasses up in case they slipped a smidge. You seemed perceptive, he didn’t need you staring him down and reading him.

“Oh, I was nervous. That’s all.”

Gojo nods, staring at you for a few seconds longer before his feet finally pick up from their spot on the floor. He’s walking off.

“Wait!” Your heartbeat spikes as the exclamation leaves your lips.

His shoes squeak against the tiles as he halts. He doesn’t turn towards you, but the fact that he stopped let you know he heard you. You don’t know why your heart is beating so loud, you’re only asking a simple question.

“Do we need any particular supplies for class, by any chance?” Your voice rises a pitch, and you fiddle with your skirt, positive you’re coming off as annoying.

“We take notes every now and then, by we I don’t mean me, so a notebook would be nice but isn’t required, and you don’t look like you have one with you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, finally facing you, “Let’s hope you have a good memory. Sensei likes to run his mouth.” He jabs, most likely to see you panic. It works.

Your eyes widen and you bite your lip, fiddling with your skirt, but you’re shocked once you hear Gojo laugh. He throws his head back and you stare a bit. You’re gonna admit, you expected it to be a little more rough and loud. It sounds a bit odd, but it’s kinda funny to listen to, almost enough to make you laugh along. Now the question that’s been sitting on your tongue has the sudden urge to come forward.

Your mouth moves before your mind processes, “Can I walk to class with you?”

“Huh?”

You screwed up, you didn’t mean to ask that — I mean you did. But with his response you’re kind of regretting it now. “Sorry. It’s just I don’t remember the way, and if you’re on your way there I thought maybe I can tag along. Though, it’s okay if you say no.” You wave your hands frantically, trying your best to salvage whatever dignity you have left. You instantly start playing with your nails, looking down at your shoes.

He’s silent for a moment, as if contemplating. Then he sighs.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

You beam, thankful.

“I promise not to be annoying.”

“You’re already being annoying by saying that.”

“Sorry!”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. Oh wait uh..”

“…”

He scoffs before walking forward. You sprint a bit to catch up with his pace. He has really long legs. You stare at his side profile as he walks, if he notices your eyes, he doesn’t say anything. But you catch the twitch of his brow. You watch every movement you catch on his features intently, dead set on getting to know him more. You wonder if your gaze feels as burning as his does on you. As if he knows you inside out.

You were never aware of your staring problem until now.

Gojo is struggling himself. Trying not to meet your gaze. It proves to be difficult, for he wants to glare you down and watch you squirm nervously before you finally break eye contact. He hates how bare he feels when you stare.

“Gojo, what’s your inherited technique?”

“Infinity,” he pops a sucker into his mouth, uninterested. But you ignore that, eyes wide as you gasp in awe, intrigued.

“Can you explain that to me?”

Gojo catches sight of your expecting face, how your eyes glittered as your lips part. He can’t help the stroke of his ego. He quickly became smug.

“I have the ability to manipulate and distort space.” His glasses slip a smidge down the bridge of his nose, you can see a sliver of his eyes. He doesn’t push them up like you expect him to, he tends to do that — from what you’ve noticed — and they’re glowing. “Hold out your hand,” he demands, long fingers splayed out in your face.

You reach up and before you can press your fingertips against his palm, a barrier is manifested between the two of you. “Woah, there’s like.. a wall between us.”

“It’s infinity.”

You look up at him, even more in awe, “So it’s science, right? That makes it easy to explain then, huh? I thought it was way more complicated than that.” You’re too engrossed in repeatedly retracting your hand and pressing it back against this “barrier” to notice how Gojo’s expression shifts.

He pulls his hand back as if he’d been burnt and you blink, swiftly putting your own hand back by your side. A frown plagues your lips. You figure you did get a bit carried away, it was really nice to see a cursed technique at play for the first time ever. And you’re glad it was something as magnificent as that. You got excited, forgetting boundaries.

Before you can express your gratitude and apologize, Gojo is striding off once more. You notice this time he’s walking a bit faster, as if he intends on leaving you behind. Your brows knit as you sigh. You don’t jog up to him this time, letting the distance between you increase. You’re always taught not to be greedy. Occurrences like this coming into play to drill that in your head, yet you fail every time — constantly wanting more.

You enter the classroom a bit after Gojo, already seeing him with a big beam on his face as he rambles off with Geto. He’s mad at you again, you think. This is normal for you — people being upset with you. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. You try your hardest to pretend it doesn’t.

Shoko’s not here yet, unfortunately. You see two empty seats and assume the vacant one by Geto is Shoko’s, so you take the other seat. You aren’t sure what to do with this extra time, you shouldn’t have come so early, so you settle with fiddling with your fingers and looking out the window.

You hear Geto’s voice and you’re not sure if you’re being looked at, but you’re way too nervous to check, afraid that if you looked you’d be caught.

“Ogawa.”

It isn’t until a full minute later you realize that Geto was trying to get your attention the entire time. You finally look at him, the curiosity brimming in your chest and the urge to look back finally sated. His smile is kind and soft. He pats the empty seat beside him. “Why don’t you sit?”

You jolt.

“Isn’t that Shoko’s seat?” You point nervously, trying to find a way out of this. If conversation is what Geto is looking for, you’re the last person that can provide.

Gojo scoffs and you retreat into yourself, eyes averted.

You faintly hear Geto shove Gojo and tell him to shut up over the loud pounding of your heartbeat before he’s turning back to you, that same, already familiar smile plastered on his lips. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“You.. really want me to sit by you?” You ask, hopefully. You guess you still have yet to learn and expect disappointment. Geto nods, his smile getting brighter and you glow like the stars.

You stand meekly, shuffling into the seat as quietly as you could, cringing when the metal cried loudly against the tile floor. Geto huffs in satisfaction and your shoulders relax a bit. You wish Gojo weren’t here to stare the both of you down, you feel somewhat uncomfortable by his overwhelming presence. You have an inkling that disturbing you is his goal, for a small smirk paints his lips.

Geto’s voice is soft as he speaks to you. He’s asking you about yourself and you answer somewhat vaguely, unsure of how to go about talking to him. You stammer a bit, trying to find your words. You get a bit fidgety, afraid he might get irritated with you, but he’s as patient as ever, smiling as he awaits your answer. That’s when you relax completely, finding it easier to answer him in stride. You never knew Geto could be so easy to talk to. You’re starting to like him even more. It’s hard not to favor people who are nice to you. But you can’t get ahead of yourself. You have to learn to expect disappointment so you won’t be disappointed.

Gojo doesn’t say a word, staring at the two of you converse so easily. He doesn’t understand why Geto seems so interested in getting to know you. You’re boring, you don’t even know your technique for crying out loud. Weak people piss Gojo off.

Gojo walks by you as you hold your head in your hands, leaning against your dorm door. He’s confused, are you going through something? You look stupid, and he withholds the urge not to laugh at your expense. If Geto were here he’d definitely scold him. He thinks of that and the nagging Geto would put him through. He rolls his eyes and decides to approach.

“Yo. You look like an idiot doing that.”

Well he didn’t actually mean for it to come across that way, but sometimes his mouth likes to run before his brain liked to function.

You look up at him, tears brimming your lashes. The sight makes him sigh internally. If he knew you’d be crying he would’ve avoided you altogether. Comforting you is beyond his expertise. Well.. it’s not. He’d just rather not waste his time.

He asks if you were going through it. Another moment of his mouth moving before his brain. But you don’t seem to take offense, more like you just seem a bit embarrassed at being caught nearly crying.

“Hate to interrupt whatever’s goin’ on, but class is in thirty minutes. If you’re anything like Suguru you’re an early bird, right?”

You answer meekly, wiping your tears with your sleeve. He catches himself eyeing your attire behind his glasses. He’s staring at you and he’s positive you can tell, for your head tips towards the floor. You seem to be awaiting his departure, but he stays rooted to the floor, content on tormenting you this way.

“Are you heading to class right now?”

He never expected you to be the type to start a conversation, not with him especially. He noticed how uneasy you felt around him. But he cuts you some slack and answers.

“I don’t usually go early, that’s Suguru’s thing. But I guess todays an exception. Anyways what’re you doing out here, and what was with the gripping your head thing? Going through a phase?” He answers you and throws a barrage of questions coyly.

You blink. Gojo realizes how much left his mouth at once and pushes up his glasses. You come up with a sorry answer and Gojo decides he’s wasted enough time. If he got there now he could talk to Suguru about yesterday’s conversation with the higher ups before Yaga arrives. He starts to walk off, now considering the conversation boring.

Your voice interrupts his stride, you sound somewhat panicked and he contemplates hearing you out. You must’ve taken his stillness as a cue.

“Do we need any particular supplies for class, by any chance?”

You sound anxious, and he doesn’t even have to look to know you’re shuffling your feet.

“We take notes every now and then, by we I don’t mean me, so a notebook would be nice but isn’t required, and you don’t look like you have one with you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, and turns to face you. He was correct, this time you’re fiddling with your ridiculously long skirt.

“Let’s hope you have a good memory. Sensei likes to run his mouth.” The only entertaining thing about you is the expressions you make. And he isn’t disappointed with this one either. He doesn’t know why he finds your sorrow so comedic but this time he can’t hold back his laugh. If Geto knew about this or witnessed it, he’d definitely scold him, but Gojo doesn’t care at the moment, shoulders shaking as he cackled obnoxiously.

He sighs, wiping under his eyes, lifting his glasses a little. He thinks that’s enough for now, and prepares to walk off to class. But then you ask a question that makes him freeze, “Can I walk to class with you?”

“Huh?”

He raises a brow, he knows you can’t see it, but he’s looking at you as if you’re crazy.

You instantly wave your hands in panic, trying to explain yourself, he thinks your excuse is lame. “Sorry. It’s just I don’t remember the way, and if you’re on your way there I thought maybe I can tag along. Though, it’s okay if you say no.”

He’s extremely annoyed with you now, watching you fidget and shuffle about with a frown plaguing his lips. A rejection is already sitting on his tongue, ready to be fired, but he knows how disappointed Geto might be with him, so his shoulders drop.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

He watches you instantly glow. You’re not smiling but he can tell you’re happy. It’s the first time he’s seeing an expression that isn’t filled with some type of despair on you. He thinks he prefers your anguish.

“I promise not to be annoying.”

He rolls his eyes, picking up his pace.

“You’re already being annoying by saying that.”

“Sorry!”

“Stop apologizing.”

You say sorry again and he scoffs to himself. Could you get any more annoying? He can hear your hurried footsteps as you try to match his stride, he feels a bit bad and slows down a bit, letting the two of you walk side by side. He did it to be nice, but it’s a decision he instantly regrets. Did your parents ever teach you that staring was impolite? The burning of your eyes against the side of his face pisses him off. But he tries his hardest not to show his anger on his face because of your intense stare.

He can’t help the twitch of his facade and he thinks you noticed. He’s resisting the urge to meet your stare, glare you down and watch you shuffle like you usually do. He craves to make you uncomfortable and show you who’s really stronger between the two of you. He really can’t comprehend where these hostile emotions are coming from but he also doesn’t care to dig deep and figure it out. It’ll come to him eventually. So for now he’ll get a bit excited as you ask about his cursed technique, jumping at the opportunity to show you how strong he is.

You’re in awe and his ego instantly skyrockets. You press your hand against his infinity over and over again, an intrigued gleam in your eyes as your lips part in a gasp.

“So it’s science, right? That makes it easy to explain then, huh? I thought it was way more complicated than that.”

For some reason that makes him irritated. “Easy to explain.” Funny coming from someone who had no idea what cursed techniques were barely twenty-four hours before. He pulls his hand away from you, as if he was burnt and instantly walks off. He thanks his long legs and their advantage to gain distance from you.

He resists the urge to turn and see your expression.

He originally did it all with Geto in mind; mulling over how he would feel if he’d left you deserted in that hallway, nervous eyes and shaky hands as you tried to find your way. Curse Geto for being such a heavy influence on him, because now he wished he’d never encountered you. Gojo considers his day already ruined before it barely started.

Now he sits and watches you converse with his best friend as if he was your best friend. Geto was always the friendly, welcoming type, so he can’t fathom why it irks him so. But it has to be your fault somehow, so until he figures that out he decides to brood in silence, arms crossed.

Shoko enters and your attention is instantly diverted. One of the many times Gojo is grateful for her existence. You were more comfortable with her than the other two. Probably a girls thing. Gojo didn’t care to understand. He instantly decided anything that had something to do with you would be ignored to the best of his abilities.

You greet Shoko in a quiet voice, as if cautious, and instantly brighten when she sends you a soft smile and a greeting in return. She points to her spot and looks at Geto inquisitively, hovering behind you. He just shrugs with a sheepish smile. So she simply sits and scoots her chair closer to you, waving her hand in a shooing motion towards Geto, “It’s my turn to hog her, your boyfriend looks upset, go comfort him.”

Geto’s head whips towards Gojo instantly, seeing his pouty expression with his arms crossed. He sighs in exasperation, a fond smile painting his lips.

You watch the two of them for a second or more before looking at Shoko. You didn’t know they were dating..

Shoko chuckles, and speaks up as if she read your mind, “They’re not actually dating. Yet, anyways. They love dancing in circles around each other. It’s irritating to witness. Utahime is a grade above me so unfortunately she doesn’t suffer through it as much as me.” She nudges you, her eyes crinkling as her smile stretches a bit wider, “You’re here with me now though, so we can suffer it together, kay?”

You nod eagerly, as if it was meant to be a good thing. Suffering anything is manageable if someone as kind as Shoko is there with you. You need to get her a gift for her kindness. Such a wonderful girl!

Yaga enters the room about twenty minutes later. Shoko lets you borrow a notebook of hers and you instantly get to jotting things down. You’re a bit surprised when you notice how mundane these subjects are. But it makes sense, you’re all still teenagers after all. You’d probably see it as inhumane if all this school taught to their students was jujutsu. No matter the importance of sorcerers and preserving the lives of non-sorcerers, it was always good to live life at least a little normally, to you anyways.

Time passed with you trying to avoid answering questions as much as possible. Even though you hated doing it, you also couldn’t help it. Whenever Yaga looked your way your eyes flew to your paper and you instantly got to acting busy to avoid getting picked on. Plus, it wasn’t like you needed to… Geto was there to answer every question smoothly for the rest of you, so there was no need, right?

Though you suppose it wasn’t evadable forever.

“[Name], can you answer this one?”

You jolt, looking up from your paper where you were “writing” (you just hovered the pen over the paper and moved it about). It was an easy algebra question, so you answered it with ease, albeit quietly. Yaga hummed in approval and moved on. It wasn’t all that bad, you recognize, but the attention is still unnerving.

Shoko nudges your side, “I got a smart girl on my radar it looks like,” she whispers. “You’ll let me copy your notes, right?” She jokes.

You nod instantly, the premise of the joke flying straight over your head. If it’ll keep her around you’ll write her as many notes as need be, you thought. It was the least you could do to repay her kindness!

She giggles quietly, and her laugh was instantly a melody you became enamored with. “I was joking, don’t worry. But you seem smart, born a genius like a certain someone, I presume?” She says coyly and her eyes drift to a particular person one seat down. You force your eyes not to drift in the direction of her finger.

“I usually study in my free time,” You shut down her assumption, you were nowhere near born a genius. “Guess you can say it’s a hobby of mine,” you shrug, whispering alongside her. It was nice, it felt like the two of you were sharing secrets.

“A hobby?” She laughs, shocked and intrigued. “You get more odd by the second.”

Your expression shifts, something she doesn’t hesitate to spot. She lays a hand on your shoulder and rubs it assuringly as she whispers, “No sweat, it’s a good thing. To me, at least. I don’t think I’d be friends with those two idiots otherwise.”

Your face relaxes and she smiles.

“Shoko,” you suddenly speak, surprising the both of you — you the most. Her eyes flit to your own and she sits, awaiting. “Do you like sweet things?” You ask, cupping your hand around your mouth as if that’ll make you any quieter.

Shoko entertains you with a grin and replicates you, hand cupped around her mouth as she leans close to whisper. Her eyes drift over you — if checking you out, something that escapes your notice — before she answers, “I love sweet stuff.”

You seem satisfied with her answer so she shifts her attention back to her notebook. Yaga turns around and her eyes flit between her notes and the board, pretending to be immersed. Though you don’t think she has anyone fooled. You glance at her for a moment more before you do the same and settle for doodling on the empty parts of your notes. Small doodles of Shoko and Geto holding gifts with big smiles on their faces. You subconsciously grin into your hand. You have no clue what either of them prefer but the thought is nice… Maybe you can ask later. Hopefully Geto will have a moment where Gojo isn’t hanging off of him.

You discreetly shuffle your position so you feel comfortable enough to gaze at him. He looks extremely focused, brows slightly furrowed as he taps his pen lightly against the desk, as if afraid to disturb the silent classroom. Your eyes drift a bit to catch a glimpse of his counterpart. A scoff of bewilderment almost involuntarily leaves your lips at the sight of Gojo simply trying to balance a pencil between his nose and the peak of his lip. Even though you have a sudden urge to call him out on his stupidity, this is actually the perfect opportunity to ask what you wanted from Geto without his leering glare, he seems distracted enough.

Yaga is turned towards the board too, voice booming loud enough that if you whispered, he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the sound of himself. It’s insane that you feel so nervous, as if speaking to a classmate during teaching is some sort of crime. But you recall the small doodle of him smiling happily with his gift and persevere.

A small, soft tap breaks Geto out of his reverie. His eyes blink in surprise before his gaze lands on you and your meek, almost guilty expression.

“Do you like sweet stuff?” Your soft voice whispers and he almost laughs aloud. You’re a horrible whisperer, and you’re both extremely lucky that Yaga’s voice echoes, for no one hears you.

He ponders your question for a moment, eyes drifting around your face before they settle back on your eyes. He’s grinning as he says, “Yeah. I like sweet stuff.”

Your visage glows with hope as you turn back to your paper, beaming. Geto’s smile becomes soft.

Brownies it is.

all mine taglist : @kaelisian @tamajoyaki @unsavedandsad @friedstudentflapranch @bomjug @mygarlingelena @phoenix666stuff @mel-star636 @gloobermoober @kallykissr @aichiomei @jaerang @luv-gin @ploylulla @mrowwww @ladytamayolover @tatiishere @kasumitenbaz @autumn-slaves @someoneunknownforyou @rosemary394 @armani78 @lordbugs @decadenthumanalienranch-blog @sokivv @crushed-l1ttle-stars @ichiikoari @okayiamkassandra @cole-silas @kakuchosbff @sugasweettea @suguguro @lacm-ac @irenesolos @redskull199987 @loreleis-world-blog @aleirnebulous @asweetblueberry2 @thel0v3hashira143 @prettypei @astral-hydromancy @ran6ia IM SO SORRY FOR THOSE WHO COULDN’T BE PROPERLY TAGGED!!! there’s a shit ton of u so maybe i got some of ur users wrong or i just can’t tag u, if ur one of those ppl plsss let me know so i can fix it. this taglist long asf!!!!!!

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pedrospatch · 1 year ago

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lost on you l a safe haven drabble

series masterlist

summary: You’re missing Joel and a certain mare seems to be picking up on your sadness—or at least that’s what you think is happening when there’s a sudden change in her behavior. Why else would Stella be acting so strange around you?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. angst, horses, and a lil more angst. reader’s pregnancy is lightly being implied, but it has not been explicitly stated yet, only hinted at. no Joel, he is only mentioned in this one. Dina makes an appearance, i threw in some comedic moments to try and balance out the angst. ends with a horsey hug.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: so this is meant to be as a bit of a filler fic before chapter 9 is posted and shit hits the fan. i knew i wanted to do a short drabble that touches on how reader is doing after the confrontation she had with Joel. i also asked people to send in short prompts for the series to do some no pressure writing exercises, and this particular prompt that was sent in was just incredible and i decided to incorporate it. It makes me nervous to post a fic with no Joel in it, but my heart wanted to write it so fuck it, I just wrote it. chapter 9 is almost done and will be posted soon. @eyesneverbeensoblue i hope it’s okay to tag you in this and tell you thank you so much for the idea!

Lately, I’m getting lost on you

I tore your world apart like it was nothing new

every day I’m a slave to the heartache…

Summer slowly, but surely comes to an end.

The days are long, but the nights without Joel?

They’re even longer, at least, that’s how it feels.

You miss him. Oh God, how you fucking miss Joel Miller.

He’s all you can ever think about.

Every second of every minute of every single day.

You miss Joel so much that it physically hurts. Every part of you just aches for him. Aches.

Your insides feel like they’re on fire, and you can't put it out.

The heartache is agonizing, almost unbearable—it’s unlike anything you have ever felt before.

In front of others, you hold it together pretty well. But when you’re alone, behind closed doors?

That’s when you fall apart. Crumble into pieces.

Losing Joel is something you will never heal from. Never.

Traces of himself he’d left behind—would you ever be able to wipe yourself clean of them? Of him? Or would you have to spend the rest of your damn life trying to get over the man who fucking adored the hell out of you and who loved you so unconditionally?

“He misses you, you know,” Ellie says, quietly. She stands beside you and diligently runs a hard, bristled hand brush along Jasper’s side to clear his golden coat of dirt and debris. The palomino is just one of several horses that needed tending to after that morning’s patrol shift. Realizing you’re too busy jotting down notes in Jasper’s handwritten file you keep for him—you kept a file for every single horse in the commune—Ellie clears her throat and then speaks again, louder this time. “He misses you.”

You wince and stop mid scribble.

“Ellie—” you trail off, your throat going dry.

Even though you’d asked her about a hundred and one times not to talk about Joel, Ellie was hellbent on bringing him up to you as often as she could. At first, it seemed innocent enough. She stuck to just letting you know how his recovery was going.

“His shoulder’s healing really well.”

“Donna came over to help with physical therapy.”

“He’ll be back on patrol in a couple of weeks.”

So you’d given her a pass. Besides, you would be a liar if you said you didn’t want to know how he was healing after his injury.

However, Ellie then began to wander into more sensitive and dangerous territory.

“He asked me about you.”

“He was drinking again last night.”

“He looks so fucking miserable.”

You know why she’s doing it.

It’s not to make you feel guilty for hurting Joel.

Hell, she knows that you’re hurting just as badly. She loves you and she loves Joel—the two people Ellie cares about more than anything are suffering without each other.

You hate that she’s essentially been pulled right into the middle of this mess that you’ve created.

Ellie is collateral damage. This is all hurting her too.

“He misses you a lot,” she adds after a minute.

You exhale sharply. Her words feel like a punch to the gut and they knock the wind out of your lungs.

Finally, you look up from your clipboard, turning to her. “Ellie,” you say her name warningly. “Stop it. We’re not going to do this today. Okay?”

“I’m just saying,” she mumbles, placing a hand on Jasper’s side. “If someone was missing me, I think I would want to fucking know.”

You feel the lump steadily rising in your throat.

“Ellie, please don’t—”

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!”

The sound of Dina’s voice fills the horse stables.

The teenager whips herself into Jasper’s stall, skidding to a stop in front of you, sweaty and breathless, as if she had just run across the settlement.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” She apologizes, setting her bag down on the ground. Pulling a scrunchie from the back pocket of her jeans, she throws her long, black hair into a messy bun as she explains herself. “Talia asked me to help her out in the library this morning and I totally lost track of time. And then on the way over here, I bumped into Mrs. Miller as she was walking home from the market and I mean, I could not just let a pregnant lady carry all those heavy bags across town—”

“Dina, breathe, sweetheart.” You hold up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay. As long as you show up, that’s all I care about. Especially since Tommy and Maria moved Logan to patrol duty. That’s another stable hand gone, so I need all the help I can possibly get around here.” Slipping your clipboard under your arm, you glance from Dina to Ellie. The emotions from what had happened just seconds before your niece had run in are bubbling, threatening to boil over. “Listen, I have to go do a routine examination on Stella. Finish up with grooming Jasper. I have a couple of horses that are due for baths—Luna and Bandit. Then it’s feeding time. Got it?”

Dina smiles brightly. “We’ll take care of it, won’t we, El?”

Sensing your urgency to leave, Ellie gives a subtle, small nod of her head. “Yeah. We will.”

“Good. I’ll come check on you girls when I’m done with Stella.” Spinning around on the muck caked heel of your boot, you hastily leave Jasper’s stall and nearly fly all the way down the stables and into Stella’s.

You rush inside, closing the top and bottom half of the Dutch door before sagging back against the wood. You toss your clipboard aside on the floor of the stall and lift both your hands, covering your face as you choke back sobs of pure agony.

He misses you.

As you will yourself to keep yourself from falling apart, you feel a warm muzzle dig lightly into your lower stomach. Dropping your hands from your face, you glance up only to see Stella peering at you with clear and unmistakable curiosity in her big brown eyes.

“Hi there, my gorgeous girl,” you murmur softly to the pregnant mare. A tear slips out from the corner of your eye and you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand.

Stella lowers her head and sniffs at your stomach, right where she had dug into you. Her ears prick forward and she nuzzles the same spot again.

You shoot her a strange look. You’ve never seen her exhibit this type of behavior before.

“Stella, what are you doing?” you ask, almost as if you expect her to speak and give you an answer. “Why are you being so weird?”

Stella sniffs you again, then nips at the hem of your tank top.

“Hey! Cut that out.” You can’t help but let out a watery giggle as you carefully pull the fabric out of her mouth. Realizing the strange behavior must have something to do with the mare sensing the intensity of your negative emotions, you gently place both of your hands on either side of her muzzle. Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you slowly exhale it through your mouth before touching your forehead to hers. “I’ll be okay, girl. I’ll be okay. There’s no other choice—I have to be okay.”

An hour later, you’d finished the examination.

Stella had continued to act oddly around you, her behavior becoming more and more peculiar as time went on. You were bonded to her of course—you were bonded to just about every single horse in the commune—and so it didn’t really surprise you that the mare was so in tune with your emotions and could feel that something was off. She was extremely attentive to you as you worked, her eyes never leaving you, not even for a second.

Stella also continued to sniff you, nuzzling you in the stomach any chance she had. For as bizarre as it was, it brought you an off sense of comfort and it made you feel less alone.

“Hey auntie.” Dina opens the stall door, poking her head inside. “Can we come in?”

“Of course.”

She pushes the door open further and walks into the stall with Ellie on her heels. Both of them are almost completely soaked from head to toe.

Your eyes widen. “Um, girls, I’m pretty sure I told you to bathe the horses—not yourselves.”

Ellie lets out a small scoff. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Bandit wasn’t having it,” Dina chuckles. “But he’s all clean, and so is Luna. We just came in to tell you we’re going to go dry off and change our clothes. We’ll be back for feeding time.” She glances at the mare. “How’s our sweet mama-to-be doing?”

“Good. She’s as healthy as a horse.”

The teenagers roll their eyes, but laugh.

“You’re so lame, auntie.”

“Just a little equine veterinarian humor. My dad used that one on me all the time.” You grin at the memory. “Stella’s doing really well. In about seven or eight months, we’ll have our new baby.”

“Well then, I think someone deserves a little treat since she’s doing so good.” Dina reaches into the bag she has slung over her shoulder and pulls out a crisp, red apple. She walks over, holding the fruit out in the palm of her hand for the horse. “Here you go, girl.”

Stella gives the apple a sniff, then takes it from her.

Usually, she wolfs it down in just a few chomps—but what she does next surprises all three of you. Apple still between her teeth, the mare turns and pushes her muzzle into your stomach.

“Oh shit,” Ellie cackles. “No fucking way!”

“Oh my god,” Dina grins. “Is she—she’s giving it to you?”

Shocked, you lift a hand and delicately take the apple from between her teeth. “Stella, you silly girl! What are you doing?” You hold it out for her. “This apple is for you, sweetheart. Here, take it.”

She tosses her head in the air.

Dina snorts into her hand. “She just told you no!”

“She wants you to have it.” Ellie shoots you a teasing look. “Come on, princess. Take a bite.”

You look at her, then down at the apple, which is covered completely in Stella’s slobber.

“Um, no thanks. I think I’ll pass,” you mutter.

“Auntie, don’t be rude,” Dina jokes. “It’s bad manners to refuse her offer.”

Rolling your eyes at your niece, you turn back to Stella and tell her, “I’ll eat it later. When it’s washed.”

“We’re starting to smell like wet horse,” Ellie makes a gagging noise as she takes a whiff of her shirt.

Dina lifts the collar of her blouse to her nose. “Oh, gross. We are starting to smell like wet horse.” She reaches out with her opposite hand, grabbing one of Ellie’s. She laces their fingers together. “Come on, let’s go change.”

You can’t help but notice the way Dina looks at Ellie—with the sweetest, most adoring little smile.

You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head slightly.

Ellie’s eyes meet yours and she blushes deeply.

If you ever had a chance to give Ellie Williams shit, this was it—but instead, you just give her a subtle wink from where you stand. Her face instantly goes from red to maroon.

“Be sure to be back in an hour for feeding time!” you call as Dina pulls her out of the stall. “I’m not feeding all these horses alone!”

“We will!”

Once the girls are gone, you turn to Stella and wrap your arms around her neck. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up today, pretty girl.”

She rests her head on your shoulder.

You feel more tears coming and hug her harder.

lyrics: Lost on You - Lewis Capaldi

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller series #queued to post

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flemingology · 2 months ago

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flexing ─ jessie fleming x reader

in which: jessie is putting in some extra work in the gym, and you start to notice it – in more ways than one

warnings: smut (18+), fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), dirty talk

wc: 2.6k

n/n: i started writing this and didn't stop until it was finished, lol. hope you enjoy! not proofread as always, sorry for any mistakes! requests are open for the moment :D

You didn't know how long you had been scrolling through Tiktok, but an ache starting to form in your thumb for the repetitive scrolling motion gave you a slight idea. Your partner on the other end of the sofa wasn't much better. Her body dancing in between sleeping and some one-eyed watching of some rewatch of a show she had seen plenty of times before.

You and Jessie loved days like these. Her schedule didn't allow much downtime, so when she did get a day off that aligned with one of yours, you'd make the most of it by reveling in each other's presence all day.

This morning started, like every single day off, by needing about 7 tries before you were able to wiggle out of your girlfriend's hold. Jessie was used to rising early for her morning training sessions, but when she wasn't on the clock it was a chore to get her out of bed. After many kisses and promises of more cuddles downstairs, you finally got her to get up from under the covers.

You took a shower together, 'to save water', but the water you would've saved got wasted anyway seen as you spent way too long in there. You washing Jessie's curls, Jessie washing your body, feeling each other up – by the time you got out of the shower it was nearing lunch time.

Neither of you felt like cooking, so you ordered in from Jessie's favorite brunch place. She got her usual sandwich, you tried a new type of toast and both were delicious. You had lunch on the couch, talking about everything and nothing, enjoying each other's company for as long as it lasted.

Not being able to fight the post-lunch daze, you took a nap together. You curled up into Jessie's chest and she traced patterns on her back until you both fell asleep for a couple hours, which has led you both to the situation you were in now.

You'd woken up from your shared nap about half an hour ago, but hadn't moved yet. You still had your face nuzzled into your girlfriend's neck, but were now mindlessly scrolling your phone. Your girlfriend on the other hand, was still in and out of sleep while Friends was playing on the tv. She'd seen it so many times, she could probably recite whole episodes if she tried.

As much as you would've loved to doze back off to sleep in Jessie's warm embrace, you started to feel like you were wasting too much of your day away. You went over some ideas in your head, until you settled on wanting to bake a cake. You looked up some recipes and once you found one that you were satisfied with and had all the ingredients for, you slowly peeled Jessie's arms from around your waist and got up, trying not to wake your Canadian.

Mission successful, as you got up from the couch without a stir from Jessie. You made your way over to the kitchen and started grabbing all the ingredients necessary for the cake, trying to make as little sound as possible.

You connected your phone to the kitchen speaker and softly played some music so that you had some background noise while baking.

You cracked a couple eggs in a bowl, to which you added sugar and flour before you started mixing them all together. You zoned out a little while whisking, not paying attention to your surroundings as suddenly you squealed as a pair of arms sneaked around your waist.

"Jessie Alexandra Fleming," you whisper-yelled, "warn a girl, will you?"

She snickered and hid her face in your neck, while tightening her grip on your waist. You felt her lips pressing tender kisses to the exposed skin there.

"Better not distract me if you want this cake to be any good later, Jess."

"Come back to the couch with me", she started. You sighed and turned in her arms, pressing your nose against hers. "Nope", you said while popping the p.

"I'm making us a cake, you can go back if you want though," you teased while looking at her innocently.

She shook her head to that, both you and her knowing she'd rather be here in the kitchen helping you with the cake than lounging on the couch for the nth rewatch of her show.

"Hand me the bowl, baby. I'll do the rest of the mixing so you can start on the next step." You pressed a tender kiss to her cheek as you slid the bowl over to her across the counter, and checked back with the recipe on your phone.

You were about to speak up and ask Jessie if you had vanilla extract, when your words got caught in your throat. You had turned back to the counter where your girlfriend was whisking the mixture, but your attention was pulled by something else.

You knew Jessie had been going the extra mile in the gym lately, but you hadn't seen any results yet, up until now.

She was wearing one of her old UCLA t-shirts – one you had grown to love a lot on her anyway –, that revealed her biceps. They had been one of your favorite features about her for a while, but they had grown. And they were showing.

Her biceps were flexing deliciously while she was mixing the ingredients in the bowl, and you couldn't help but stare. Either she caught on and was teasing you, or was being very oblivious, but right on cue she rolled up her sleeves. You cleared your throat and turned away from her, turning your focus back on the recipe and decided to look for the vanilla extract yourself.

Jessie shot you a look. "You okay, baby?"

You didn't trust your voice not to waver if you spoke right now, so you resorted to humming and giving her a small smile from behind the door of the cupboard you were reaching for the vanilla extract in.

She frowned but let it go, going back to the task at hand. You were both in your own world now, finishing your sides of the recipe before you came back together at the end and added some finishing touches before the cake was ready to be baked.

Jessie put the cake in the pre-heated oven and you closed the door, putting a timer for 35 minutes from now.

She stood up and turned around, but before she even registered what was happening you pushed her back against the fridge, pressing a hungry kiss against her lips. You wasted no time and slipped your tongue inside Jessie's mouth, exploring it like it was the last time you would ever get to kiss her.

You pulled back when you needed some air, and Jessie pressed a hand against your chest just as you were to lean in again. "Hey," she started as she let out a light chuckle, "as much as I like this, what happened? What's got you so worked up?"

You rolled your eyes and felt your cheeks growing red before you hid your face in Jessie's chest. "Yourbicepslookedhot", you mumbled almost incoherently against her body. "What's that, love? Speak up for me." She knew what she was doing and she knew it was only gonna spur on your arousal. You groaned and pulled your head away from her chest, before looking her in the eyes. "Your biceps."

"What about them?" she questioned. You rolled your eyes. "They're hot," you sighed, "I can tell you've been working on them. I noticed it whilst you were mixing the ingredients earlier and it got to me a little."

Jessie couldn't hide the smug grin that was forming on her face. "So you like my biceps, huh?"

If your cheeks weren't red before, you knew they would be now. You nodded and moved your hands over to her arms, rubbing them up and down before you gave her biceps a light squeeze. She subtly flexed them while your hands were wandering all over them, knowing it would get you even more worked up.

You pulled Jessie's hips against you and subconsciously started rolling yours against them while you pressed another kiss against her lips. She slid her hands over your back down over your ass, halting right underneath it and giving the back of your thigh a light tap signaling you to jump.

Jessie picked you up as you did, and moved the two of you out of the kitchen and back to the couch. She placed you both down and hovered on top of you, teasing you as she wouldn't lean back in to kiss you. You circled your arms around her neck and pulled her down abruptly, her body flush against you as you let out a gasp at the feelings of her hips against yours.

She ducked her head down and pressed tender kisses against your neck, biting down every now and then before using her tongue to soothe the sing, something that never failed to get a desperate moan out of you. Jessie knew all your spots. She knew where to push, kiss, bite or lick to get you weak in the knees, and that is knowledge she loved putting to use.

You tugged at Jessie's curls when she sucked eagerly on the sensitive spot in your neck, feeling her smile against your skin as you did so. She sat up and traced her fingers down your body until she reached the hem of your shirt, which she lifted asking for permission to take it off. You nodded, sitting up and gesturing her to take her clothes off too before the both of you laid back down, now without a border of clothes separating your bodies.

She immediately got back to work and started placing featherlight kisses on your collarbone, your chest and on your bra-covered breasts. "Can I take this off?", she mumbled in between kisses.

You only just managed to breathe out a "yeah" before Jessie eagerly unclasped your bra and discarded it somewhere in the living room. You knew you would scold her when one of you inevitably tripped over it later, but you could not be bothered less about that right now. You gasped as she attached her mouth to your nipple and began licking and sucking on the sensitive nub.

"Jess," you breathed, "I need you". You knew you sounded desperate but you couldn't care right now.

"Patience, darling. I got you," she whispered against your sensitive, wet nipples. She trailed open-mouthed kisses down your body until she reached your underwear. You lifted your hips in a silent question, allowing her to slip off the last piece of clothing off of your body.

"You're soaked," she whispered as she teasingly slid one finger through your folds. You crossed your arm over your face in attempt to hide the blush that was creeping up your cheeks.

You were expecting a snarky comment, but instead you were met with a slow, teasing lap of Jessie's tongue against your wet core.

You couldn't hold back the near embarrassing moan that formed in your throat at the first contact with her tongue. She skipped all the teasing and playing around and dove straight in, clearly just as worked up as you were.

Jessie held your thighs to steady herself as you instinctively spread them wider for her. She was expertly sucking and flicking at the exposed bundle of nerves, ducking down every now and then to lick a long stripe of arousal through your folds.

"I need more," you whispered. Jessie hummed into your pussy, acknowledging your request. She placed a finger against your entrance, collecting some of your arousal before slowly dipping one inside of you.

You let out a breathy moan, reveling in the feeling of being filled by your girlfriend. "Fuck baby, you feel so good around my fingers. Always so nice and tight for me."

Jessie wasn't a very outspoken person. Not with others, but she could also be really quiet around you. Although it seemed like sex turned her into a different person. It was one thing that she could be really loud and vocal when on the receiving end, but it was another thing when you discovered how much of a dirty talker she was when pleasuring you.

You moaned at her words, throwing your head back as she filled you to the hilt. She slowly withdrew her fingers to which you whined, but before you could speak up she added a second finger and slammed back into you. Your breath got caught in your throat as Jessie started pistoning her index and ring finger in and out of your wet entrance.

Soon enough you felt the ever so familiar sensation of a tying knot building in your stomach, and you knew Jessie could feel it too on her fingers. Your walls would start pulling her in, close in on her fingers as she tried her best to keep up the speed and intensity of her thrusts as you came to your high.

"Jess", you started before a particularly good thrust of her fingers cut your sentence short. "Jessie, I'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me cum."

This was quick for you. You weren't someone who needed much anyway, but it was almost embarrassing how little work Jessie had to do to get you over the edge today.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fingers."

She looked up at you from between your legs and you swear you could feel yourself get even wetter at the sight. Her hair was disheveled and all over the place from having been between your thighs, her chin was slick with arousal and she had a toothy grin plastered on her face, that you found more attractive than you'd like to admit.

She ducked her face back down and gave a couple more hard thrusts of her fingers before you felt your body tense up, your thighs clenching around her head and your fingers tugging at her curls, to a point where you knew it must have hurt her a little. But you couldn't care less. Not when she just brought you to a state of pure bliss and was carrying it out as long as possible by continuing her thrusts slowly, lapping up the arousal that leaked out of you as your orgasmed.

Jessie only stopped her ministrations when you put a hand on one of her arms holding your thigh, to signal that you were getting too sensitive. You closed your eyes and leant your head back against the armrest of the couch. "Fuck, Jess. That was so good."

You didn't even have to look at your girlfriend to know that she was more than likely sporting a cocky grin as she crawled back up your body. "Okay if I pull out?"

You nodded but couldn't hold back the soft hiss that escaped your lips as she pulled her fingers out of your entrance, nearing a state of overstimulation. She grabbed your chin with one hand and made sure you were watching her, as she licked the two fingers that were just inside of you. She put them in her mouth and sucked off all the remaining arousal that were on them before laying down on your chest and pressing a soft kiss against the underside of your jaw.

You were still catching your breath when she spoke up. "I will never ever get tired of making you cum," she smiled and kissed your puckered lips.

"Well, I don't know how but it feels like you get better at it every single time we have sex", she snickered and buried her head in your chest, back to her usual shy self.

"It's the biceps, for sure." "Oh, is it now? Better thank the coach then." "Talking about my coach after sex? Damn, way to ruin the mood." "Oh, I'll fix the mood don't you worry."

You abruptly flipped the two of you around so you were now straddling Jessie's waist, leaning down to press a few kisses against her neck and ear.

"We're not done yet."

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #portland thorns #canada wnt

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mightbeimpossiblenotto · 2 months ago

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Crazy - Oct 2 - @rosekillermicrofic - 934 words - Warning: mild violence

(a/n — once again sorry about the lateness!! Trying to catch up)

Barty had always been overprotective of his friends. Growing up the way he did, begging for any morsel of attention from his father, Barty quickly glommed onto his found family to a near-annoying degree. As his roommates, Evan and Regulus dealt with the brunt of his overbearingness, but Dorcas and Pandora got their fair share of pestering as well. He followed them around the halls, he sat at any table they happened to be at, he bugged them in the common room and the dorm when he could. Barty just didn’t like to be alone, after spending most of his childhood alone. But, see, all that love and affection for his friends had quite the downside: if he heard a single bad word said about one of them, he would kill the person who spoke.

That person being Mulciber that very afternoon. He had the misfortune of arriving to lunch late, and one of the only seats left was right next to Barty and all of his friends, including Pandora who had foregone the Ravenclaws to sit with her set of Slytherins. Apparently, he couldn’t just ignore the lot of them for the duration of the meal and get on with his day, because the moment he sat down, he was huffing and puffing and rolling his eyes as if he had been served with the utmost inconvenience by having to sit within earshot of Barty’s friends’ conversation.

But it all came to a head when Pandora mentioned something about wrackspurts making her brains fuzzy today, which her group of friends were quite used to her saying. Barty had taken it to believe that she couldn’t focus, but he respected her belief in the tiny creatures flying into her ears, if she said they were real.

“Bloody mental, that one,” Mulciber whispered overly loudly. “She’s crazy.”

Barty saw red. He couldn’t remember ever being so angry in his entire life. One second, he was sitting next to Evan and Pandora, listening to them ramble to each other quietly, and in the next moment, he was hunched over Mulciber’s bloody face. Flashes of his fists flying into his stupid head filled his mind, and belatedly he realized his clenched hands were bloodied and aching. He stood shakily, stepping away from where Mulciber lay unconscious on the ground. He didn’t go very far — three steps away, he was pulled to a stop by Slughorn, who was berating him, but Barty didn’t hear a single word. His focus was locked on the beaten body he’d left on the floor of the dining hall.

“Barty,” Evan said, and it was as if he’d reached right into Barty’s mind to demand his attention. Barty whipped his head around to stare at Evan, eyes too wide. Slughorn was still holding him by the arms, but Evan had come up on his other side, easily dismantling the grip and holding Barty himself. “Barty.”

The next hour or so passed in a haze. The professors had run over and whisked Mulciber off to the hospital wing, and then Dumbledore had to speak to Barty, who wasn’t ready to speak at all, so Dumbledore let him go after he was near-silent for a full hour. Evan was waiting for him after he left the Headmaster’s office.

“Barty,” Evan said again, as soon as he had eyes on Barty. He wouldn’t be surprised if that all Evan could say.

“I could have killed him,” was the first thing Barty said. It wasn’t what he had meant to say at all, but he wasn’t sure what that would be either.

Evan grabbed one of his wrists and pulled him into a tight hug, pressing their entire bodies together the way Barty craved to be held. “You didn’t,” was all Evan said.

“But — I could have. I completely blacked out, I had no idea what I was even doing,” Barty rambled, feeling his heart rate pick up with every damning word out of his mouth. He had no idea what sort of spells Dumbledore might have in the halls, what he might be able to hear.

“You didn’t,” Evan repeated fiercely. He pulled back enough to look Barty in the eye. “And even if you had, you were protecting Pandora.”

Some relief washed over Barty. He had been afraid — He’d been terrified that all of his friends would see him beating Mulciber mercilessly, and they would see in him the monster he always felt he was. “But — you all saw me—“

“Yes, we saw you defending our best friend,” Evan said, voice hard and unyielding. “Barty, you’re okay.”

“You’re sure?” Barty asked breathlessly. “Evan, are you sure?”

Evan stared at him for another heartbeat, and then he was surging forward, pressing his mouth to Barty’s. Barty fucking melted. It didn’t matter at all to him that they were right outside Dumbledore’s office, it didn’t matter that his hands were still covered in Mulciber’s blood. Evan fucking Rosier was kissing Barty, he could have died right there on the spot and he would have died happy.

He didn’t die, though. Evan pulled back way too soon, and Barty made that known with a displeased groan. But Evan was smirking at him.

“Barty, what you did today may just be the hottest thing you have ever done,” Evan informed him. “And you have done a lot of insanely hot things in your time.”

Barty blinked. He burst out laughing, utterly delighted, his head falling forward against Evan’s shoulder. Evan brought a hand up to tangle in his hair, and Barty could just tell he was grinning.

#rosekiller microfic #rosekiller #barty crouch x evan rosier #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #evan x barty #slytherin skittles

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pastanest · 1 year ago

Text

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: the day I don’t write about a sunshine!reader is the day one of you needs to action a welfare check on me bc I bawled my eyes out writing this angsty shit fr

warning: mentions of Maeve (rip queen x)

A Chance

It was strange, getting to know someone through the words of friends, before being able to actually meet that person. The board had requested you transfer to the BAU while Spencer was in prison, and you were only ever meant to be there as a placeholder of sorts, to lend your expertise to the team that struggled in their dear friend’s absence. It was a temporary arrangement, but from the moment Emily Prentiss referenced you to Spencer during a visit to him in prison, he could see in her eyes that your presence had already proven itself invaluable.

The tales she told him of you were silly things that made him laugh, and that was something he had long forgotten how to do. Spencer had no idea what you looked like, because you had insisted that you didn’t want to take a visitation slot from someone that he knew; a notion Emily had passed on to him when he had asked, and his sombre heart had ached from beneath the rubble in his chest, the ruins that once housed a heart of gold. He had no way of picturing you, but he did, he tried. Hearing the jokes you had told the team through Emily, seeing the enjoyment you brought to his friends simply by talking about you, hearing of your efforts to bring smiles to everyone on the team like it was second nature for you. In every way, you made it clear you had no intention of taking Spencer’s place, you were only there to take care of those he loved by making them laugh again, and somehow, that endless stream of kindness reached Spencer, too. Flowing through prison bars, through tense muscles, to the cold, grey, shattered fragments of his heart.

On the day of his release, you had conducted the team in arranging a surprise party for him at the office, just a small get-together for him and his closest friends, who you understood were his family. Your efforts did not go unnoticed to the genius, and neither did the absence of you, amongst his friends.

“Is (Y/N) here?” Spencer had asked.

And David Rossi had shaken his head with a fond smile. “No, she insisted she didn’t want to impose or put you in the position of having to meet someone new, so she’s at home, but she’ll be back in tomorrow.”

You had done it again, without even being there to do it. You had single-handedly reached into Spencer’s chest and lifted those fragments out of the rubble, dusting them off and setting them down gently atop the rubble, letting the sun shine on his heart again.

The next day, Spencer had arrived early at the office for a multitude of reasons. To sit at his desk in the silence of the morning, with nobody around, just to feel back where he belonged, the serenity of it; that was one of the reasons. And as he sat, contemplating that very notion, another reason for his early arrival stepped into the office. Though he had never seen you before, Spencer’s heart recognised you immediately, and he stood from his desk, the softest smile on his face as he watched you. It took you several seconds to acknowledge his presence, what with your big headphones covering your ears and a large pile of boxes in your arms. Spencer watched you like you were a silent film, an enchanting and nostalgic wonder that he had never been lucky enough to lay his eyes on before. It was only when you had set your things down and turned to his desk, with just one large box in your arms, that your eyes widened. And Spencer continued to watch as the brightest smile he had ever seen blossomed on your face, like the first flower he’d seen after a year-long winter.

“Spencer! Hello!” You greeted him cheerfully, removing your headphones. “These are for you! Emily said that you liked ones with chocolate frosting and sprinkles best?” You had asked, setting the large box down on his desk in front of him.

He stared down at it, and you, in absolute wonder. How could you possibly be real?

“(Y/N)...” Spencer spoke your name to you for the first time, having rehearsed it and played around with the way it sounded in his mind during particularly lonely nights in his cell, but finding that it sounded different when he said it to you.

“I can’t thank you enough. For this, for the party yesterday, for the happiness you’ve brought the team- thank you.” Spencer said, his voice as gentle as he could make it, afraid that the slightest of harsh tones could shatter the fragile ray of sunshine that stood before him.

“Oh, that’s alright! You don’t need to thank me, not for any of it, the team have all been so welcoming to me, and they talk about you all the time, you know.” You beamed up at him.

“They do?” Spencer asked, his words unexpectedly shy.

You nodded fervently. “Everyday, they had a new tale to tell me about you, a new fact to share that they learned from you- honestly, I feel like I was getting to know you before I’d even met you!” The chuckle that passed your lips was that of an angel.

You had been getting to know him in the same way he had been getting to know you. What did you think of the things you heard? Did you think of him as often as he thought of you? Were you as curious about him? Did thoughts of him make you smile, in the way thoughts of you made him, when he would walk back to his cell after a visit from Emily?

A lump formed in Spencer’s throat. How different is he now, to the person you were getting to know? Will prison have made him unrecognizable to you, too?

But as he gazed down at you and searched your eyes, unable to find a single shred of judgment, or fear, he felt hope. A glimmer, a spark, beneath the rubble.

“Emily’s been telling me about you, too.” He managed to reply, his voice quiet in a way he hoped you wouldn’t address.

“All good things, I hope!” You chuckled again, busying yourself at your desk and looking over your shoulder at him.

It felt normal. Like a conversation between two old friends. Spencer felt comfortable, for the first time since…even his eidetic memory faltered in recalling.

“All good things.” He assured you, a smile playing on his lips and in his chest.

Somehow, it came as a surprise to you when the team requested you join the team permanently. You had enjoyed your time with them tremendously, but you had never suspected they enjoyed you just as much, enough to ask you to stay. They had waited to ask you, wanting Spencer to meet you first and give his verdict. He couldn’t form his thoughts into coherent strings of sentences, but the smile on his face after meeting you told the team that he shared their resounding 'yes'.

And when he saw the way you lit up, the happy tears in your eyes as the team asked you if you’d consider making your position permanent, Spencer grinned. Your tearful eyes landed on him, sensing that he had agreed to ask you to stay, and that one thought made the tears in your eyes cascade down your cheeks.

“Thank you.” You had blubbered, gaze traveling across each and every member of the team, but lingering on Spencer in a way that made him question whether his IQ points were evaporating, leaving his head emptier, his mind happier, with the simple joy of you, smiling at him like that.

With your place on the team set in stone, you all began working on cases together, quickly discovering that your true place was at Spencer’s side, much to his delight and dismay in equal measure. You made him smile like nobody else, made him feel normal, seen, for who he was, who he could be as long as you were around to encourage a side of him he had learned to keep well hidden, to protect himself. Even his mother, on his first visit to her since getting out of prison, had commented that he seemed so much more himself. How had you reminded him of who he was, when you had not known who he was before? Spencer felt selfish for collecting your smiles, treasuring them all to himself. He wondered if he had any right to make you smile at all. He was unworthy of causing a smile like yours. And there was guilt, so much guilt, the moment you were out of sight and he became excruciatingly aware of just how much more you deserved. An angel like you, walking on hot coals beside him, burning the soles of your feet but still smiling up at him like he’s worth it.

Tonight, the pain is worse. To celebrate a particularly gruelling case being solved, you suggested a garden party at your house, and Spencer had been the very first person you asked to attend. As if he needed any further proof to his ongoing theory of it being physically impossible for him to ever deny you of anything. And here he stands, in your garden, nursing a drink and watching you just as he did the first time he saw you. There is music playing, and you are aware of his presence, but you are still the same vision to him, all sound fading until you are that same silent film. Until your laugh breaks the barrier; a sound he is certain could reach his ears from miles away. Through any sea of other voices, he can pinpoint yours.

He is nothing more than a shadow, standing alone, a few feet away from everyone else, on the outside of their bubble but peering in just to torture himself. The smiles on his friends faces, on yours, as you all dance around together, dressed to the nines and laughing like it’s the silliest joy you’ve ever known. Spencer looks at the perfect image before him until he can bear it no longer, and he sets his drink down on the nearest table. Enough, he thinks to himself.

Nobody notices when a shadow slowly fades out of view.

He walks through your home, towards the front door, the scent of your perfume trying to persuade him to stay. The trinkets on your shelves, the art on your walls, every single thing exuding you in the most beautiful way; he knows he could stand right here, in your hallway, just drinking you in until he died of old age, but he keeps walking. Shoes heavy, legs of lead, he trudges out of your front door and onto the street, under the same stars as you and feeling the weight of how little he deserves to share such a thing.

Every step further away from where you are kills him just a little more. He wonders how far he’ll make it, whether he’ll manage to reach the sea before he sinks to his knees and lets himself wither away entirely, the force of you no longer binding his atoms and holding him to this Earth; an echo that you have been selfless enough to maintain, no matter the cost to you. The cost, Spencer is sure, has been insurmountable. How can it not have been? A burden as heavy as him, a stain you can’t wash out of your life that somehow exacerbates every time you check in on it, a husk that you remind how to live, simply by existing.

Seven steps from your front door, his legs start to falter, wobbling beneath him under the weight of the crime he has committed and the sentence he serves now, for stringing you along like he’s ever been worthy of walking the same ground. His trembling hands grip garden fences as he forces himself onwards, away, away.

“Spencer?”

A vision, a mirage, the perfect and only balm to restore his strength enough to stand up straight. Thank you, thank you, his mind spins, continuing to walk until your footsteps reach his ears.

“Where are we going?”

And there it is, that smile, looking up at him like you can fix everything in his world, and you have. Again.

He can’t tell you, he can’t possibly speak such heartbreaking thoughts aloud. He can’t do anything that’ll cause your smile to even falter, not now, when his heart breathes to life and rises from the rubble, reaching for you.

“Just…needed some air.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse, and he can tell from the look in your eyes that you see right through him, see that something is wrong, but you don’t pry.

Instead, you do what feels right to you.

For the first time, you slip your hand into Spencer’s and squeeze it, so gently. His hand all but engulfs yours, but he can feel every inch of your skin that touches his, and his heart soars.

“Okay, you wanna walk round the block?” You ask, your words casual, gentle, and holding no judgement, like always.

Spencer can only nod, his IQ reduced to zero because you are holding his hand and he cannot possibly think about anything else.

Taking his agreement, you start walking, and he walks in step beside you. On the same ground, under the same night sky, in a silent film that he feels he is a part of now.

For a few minutes, neither of you say anything. Only casting shy smiles at each other every so often, until you decide to speak words that alter Spencer’s very brain chemistry.

“You know, you’ve become my favorite person in the world.” Your voice is quiet, almost bashful, in a way he has never heard you speak before.

Spencer frowns, his eyebrows knitted together by the confusion and bliss that swirls within him in a perfect storm, but your hand is still holding his, so he is still incapable of speaking.

“Every new thing I come to learn about you, I adore more than the last.” You continue. “And I didn’t know what to do with that, at first, because I didn’t want to drop my feelings on you and give you no choice but to address them, I didn’t think that would be fair. So I’ve thought about it, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s okay.” You smile up at him in a way that makes his heart splutter frantically. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, because even if you don’t, I’ll still adore you just as much, and I’ll help you find the person that you come to adore in that way.” The sincerity in your eyes very nearly breaks Spencer in two, and he stops walking.

He is at an agonizing crossroads. His eidetic memory forces him to relive his tragic romantic history, from the date he asked JJ on that she invited Penelope to, to the worst day of his life, when the only girl he thought that would ever love him, was murdered right in front of him. Maeve. He never even got to hold her hand like this, say the words he’d always wanted to, thank her for giving him the chance, for letting him love her until her last moments, and beyond that.

Tears gather in Spencer’s eyes as he looks down at you and thinks of Maeve. He had always thought that she was it, that she was his one and only chance at love, at a family, at the life he had always dreamed of, and that was out of his reach because she was. But as he gazes down at you, feels your hand squeeze his again in a way he never got to feel with Maeve, he realizes that this is different, that he is different. There is no way to know how his life would differ if he had not lost Maeve, how long they would have lasted, if at all; he stopped plaguing himself with the what-ifs long ago, settling with the agony that it was his fault, that he deserved to suffer, and he deserved to do so alone.

But you are here. Right here.

Smiling up at him like he’s worth more than he feels he is, pouring your heart out to him and not expecting anything in return, just wanting him to know that you adore him, because that’s who you are. And he is the person you adore. He is not without love, he is not a lost cause, his fate is not sealed.

You are here, with Spencer, because you have chosen to be. You adore him as he is now, and he doesn’t even know who that is, but he doesn’t care anymore, because as long as you adore him, he’s okay with that.

The tears gathering in his eyes break past the barriers and slip down his stubbled cheeks, a small smile curling at his lips, before it blossoms just as yours did the first time you saw him, into a grin, and then a quiet laugh. He looks up at the stars and takes a moment to thank them for allowing him to stay here with you, and then he takes hold of your other hand, holding both of your smaller ones in his.

“You’ll have to give me time to formulate my thoughts into words, but for now, let me just say that I…” Spencer takes a deep breath, blinking back the tears that dare blur his perfect vision of you, and then he sighs, shaking his head. “Adore isn’t a strong enough word.” He smiles down at you. “I’m enchanted by you, and I’d be willing to challenge any belief that tries to advise me against worshipping you.”

The chuckle that passes your lips as your eyes glaze over is the most beautiful sound Spencer has ever heard, and he is definitely not biased, because he absolutely has not thought that every time he’s heard you laugh.

“Very profound, Doctor Reid.” You muse. “So, where does that leave us?”

The smile on Spencer’s face is dazed, lost in the dream of you. The stars shine above and the ground sighs below, the universe relieved to have finally guided the two of you to where you were always intended to be.

Your question is a good one - an excellent one, Spencer would argue, solely because you were the one to ask it - and it takes several seconds for his whirring mind to piece together the words to correctly phrase the sentiment he feels deep within the heart that you have taken the time to intricately piece back together with the same gentle hands that hold his now. Eventually, though, the words find him, and he parts his smile to let that same heart speak to you.

“I honestly don’t know, but anywhere that you are, is where I want to be.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons

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satrs · 2 years ago

Note

i just read the cliche post and like- DAMNNNNNN

But now isagi's part got me thinking what if, milf reader??? VEKFBKSNS please i just wanna be this hot ass mom who has teens drooling on her, i dONT HAVE ANY SCENARIO IN MIND BUT PLEASEE i am begging fr

AHHHH OMG YOUR MIND!!! VSKDKXKX THANK YOU FOR THIS!!!

ＭＩＬＦ!?

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ɢᴜʏꜱ ᴡʜᴏ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪʟꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ!

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Isagi Yoichi. Itoshi Sae. Shidou Ryusei. Nagi Seishiro. Otoya Eita.

Tags; Age gap(they're in their early 20's, reader in her late 30's). mention of kids. breeding kink. creampie. nicknames(good boy, ma', mommy, baby). some subby guyss

ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ 18+!!! // ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ

ISAGI YOICHI.

I just knowww he's a sucker for hot MILFs ♡

He loves everything about them! He loves how they are so mature and how they're so experienced in sex life!

And you are no exception. He was always looking forward to seeing you, feeling the urge to take care of you after you had another stressful day with work and your kids :(

You jumped up and down, rocking your hips at a tantalizing speed, leaving him comepletely pussydrunk.

"Yes baby fuckkk, use me." Your aching heat clenched at his words. He was the best. Letting you use him as you pleased, getting rid of

all the stress you had throughout the day.

He threw is head back, adams apple throbbing as your rythm increased, his hands flying to take a hold of your asscheeks. "Yesyesyes, fuck!", he groaned, to lost over the feeling of you around him, subconsiously thursting his hips up into yours, causing you to moan out his name.

No man was ever able to please you like this young man did, always tending to all your needs.

ITOSHI SAE.

Hear me out. I think he would really enjoy himself a nice milf.

It’s just something about you that makes his cock stir in his pants, probably the fact that you were so ridiculously beautiful, aging like fine wine.

He loves and worshippes every single part of your body, from your pregnancy strechmarks to your amazing thighs. And he never failed to let you know how beautiful you were.

"God.", you sighed out, hand threading into his red locs. "Don't stop Sae, oh shit!" You moans caused the man to groan into your aching heat, hands firmly griping your thighs, holding you in place, wide open for his mouth to devour.

Your legs started to lock around his head, almost robbing his breath. But he didn't mind. Hell, he would die a happy man if he were to die being suffocated by your elegant thighs.

It barely took you one more flick of his tongue to succumb to him, legs shaking at the hard impact of your orgasm. He lapped up your juices, overstimulating you in the process.

"Fuck, I could do this all day."

SHIDOU RYUSEI.

He is literally obsessed with MILFs idc.

Would do ANYTHING for a gorgeous woman like yourself.

Suck your sore titties? Done. Feed your baby because you’re so exhausted? Already finished. Fucking your brains out while your child is at daycare? Oh, he loves that.

He always tells you how he would love to have kids with you himself, knowing they would be beautiful given to your genetics.

„Yeah? You like that ma‘? I know you do.“

Whines and whimpers escaped your plumb lips, his cock drilling in and out of you from behind at an rapid pace.

„Yes Ryusei! I love it, love it!“ you slurred put incoherent words of praise into the pillow, causing the mans chest to swell with pride.

„I‘ll fill you up so good, make you a mommy again. Whatcha say?“

You whined at that, back arching even further and the image of him filling you to the brim with his juice heavy in your mind.

Maybe another child would be nice, right?

NAGI SEISHIRO.

Loves them bc he is so lazy urgh

You just take such great care of him, not letting him lift a finger and you never complain about him ever.

And to top it all of, you were so incredibly sexy, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

He just feels like being in heaven when he rings at your doorbell late at night when your kid is asleep, begging you to take care of him :(

„You’re such a good boy you know that right, Sei'?“ you questioned while your slim fingers stroked his throbbing cock.

„Mhmm, yes mommy. Such a good boy for you. Only you“ he whined, dangerously close to his orgasm.

„Well then“, you began, pace of your hand increasing, stimulating his sensitive tip with your tumb, „prove it to me and cum, babyboy.“

He was a slave to you and your words, immediately cumming all over your hand and his pelvis.

Whispers of thanks spilled from his lips, „Thank you so much mommy.“

OTOYA EITA.

MILF hunter🤷🏽‍♀️

Being a single mom is not for the weak, causing you to sometimes be more dominant with the people around you.

He just loves when you put him into him place, calming him down from his prideful behavior

Acting like a careless and heartbreaking playboy? Nah, not around your watch.

"So good, you feel so good", eita commented, dick silding in and out of your squeezed together thighs. "Mhm? think you deserve to be inside of me?", you inquired in a teasing manner, smirk adoring your lips at his ragged breathing.

He didn't say anything, already knowing the answer. "That's what I thought. Next time, you better not act out of line again, hm?"

Even though he was on top of you, you were the one in control. Always.

He nodded, completely falling under our spell, enjoying the feeling of your plush thighs around his aroused length.

ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°

#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ #♡˳ᴮᴸᴸᴷ #lec writes!۵ #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk fanfic #blue lock x you #isagi yoichi #isagi smut #itoshi sae #itoshi sae smut #shidou x you #shidou smut #otoya eita #otoya eita smut #shidou ryuusei smut #bllk otoya

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uinmyheart · 4 months ago

Text

[♡] "Hey, stranger"

"Hello, youuuu" you instantly smile after hearing his voice.

"How's everything going over there?" you ask. You're sitting in your pajamas, skincare routine already finished and putting some lotion on your legs. it's been ages since the last time you were able to do this properly.

"Well, our dear Hanni has been acting like a brat all day just because she misses you. She's been acting like i'm the devil." you hear a certain echo of his voice as well as the knocks of pans and silverware which probably means he's wrapping up the night routine while your call stays on speakers.

"I'm guessing you had an eventful day." you smile.

"And that's to say the least." you both giggle. "I'm not sure about letting Hanni continue with her football lessons. She's starting to grow some muscles and now I'm scared of a pre-teen that just happens to be my only daughter."

"I don't think it's the football lessons, babe. It's that age." you giggle. You're so happy to hear them and your heart aches now that you're not with them.

As soon as your daughter started growing, it was time to get back on your feet and start working again, but every single time you had to pack your things for a quick work trip, it became even more difficult than the previous one. Maybe it's the constant fear of missing out on things that happen in your house, or not being able to be in control of everything that's happening over there, but being completely honest, you cannot really complain about the perks that came with work travelling. The suite your workplace had provided for your stay, and the clean bathtub in your bathroom wasn't so bad either.

"I mean, you should've seen me driving over here with a car full of annoying teens making fun of everything that I did or said. The way they made fun of my nose for more than 20 minutes almost made me cry, honestly." hearing you giggle out loud makes him lightly smirk even though deep inside he still feels hurt by the way his own blood had betrayed him like that in front of all of her friends. "And feeding those demons.. It's insane. I'm going have to squeeze in a quick run to the grocery store. We're out of.. oh, yeah. Everything. They even found those special cookies we keep hidden for our movie nights."

"Ooh, babe. It was time you found out. Hanni has been eating them non-stop. That place is not a secret anymore. I just stopped restocking those because she always checks right after coming back home. It's taking a toll on our sweet treat budget." you deliver the bad news with a pretty big smile on your face, already imagining the look of confusion on his.

"That's insane. She's insane." "I know, right? But at least she's cute, though."

"Yeah, she really is. You should see the way she scrunches her nose when she runs on the field. Totally cute." he gushes and you can only hum in response. "What about you, though? How's my management & sales senior doing?"

"It's pretty boring over here, I must say." you sigh. "Boring deals with boring people. Cannot complain though, not allowed." you both giggle. "You wanna guess what I did today?" he hums.

"I had a 20 minute shower." he groans in response. "No complaints and no banging on the door."

"You're killing me over here!"

"And when I got out, I asked for room service. Had some fried chicken, some pizza and now I'm even waiting for dessert!"

"Are you guys hiring? Maybe I can squeeze in my résumé and a couple of interviews."

"I'm not sure relationships between coworkers are allowed over here.."

"For a night like that I could leave my wife." all jokes aside, "Hey!" you instantly exclaim, feigned offense laced in your voice.

"I know, baby. I know. Just joking." you smile at him. "So... what are you wearing? Do you miss me?"

Before you could even think about a cheeky response. A big, loud, and clear. "EW!" is heard right on cue. There's your girl.

"Dad, you're so disgusting." you can hear your husband loud complaints as well as your daughter's perfectly clear light hearted insults to his father.

"So what? Is it a crime to love your mother? I'm not apologizing for that."

"You're both too old for this! At least don't do it in a common area on speaker!"

As you stay silent for a couple of seconds you get to hear the way they go back and forth as Hanni continues to emphasize how embarrassed she feels by your behaviour. Teens can be so intense, you cannot help but roll your eyes.

"Anyways... Mom? Are you there?" your girl asks.

"Yes, my lovely daughter. How are you? Do you miss me?"

"Incredibly much. Dad over here is embarrassing me at school and at practice as well." you smile at what she tells you. You miss this banter even though you get to have a taste just by the phone.

"I'm sure he is. I made sure to give him instructions on how to!" Hanni whines on the phone and you can hear Jungkook in the background making slight fun of her.

"So, mom..." "Yes?" "I've been thinking.. since you're already there.." You know exactly where this is going. "Can i send some stuff for you to buy? There's this new lip glo-"

"Jeon Hanni! You're in so much trouble. Why would you use your time to talk to your mom to ask her stuff?!" Hanni whines as Jungkook continues. "That is not how I raised you!"

"Dad, you're so annoying. For real."

To cut things short, you ended up compromising on bringing your daughter this new lip gloss everyone's talking about and a new water bottle she insists that will help her performance on football practice. Absolutely ridiculous, yet you agreed on buying it just to make her happy.

And at the end of the night, when you're unable to get some sleep as you shine in the glow the television gives you, you're awoken from your trance-like state by a message from your husband.

It's the best way to end a mostly perfect day. A pictured of him and your daughter cuddling on your big bed together, her hiding on his chest already sleeping with her mouth wide open and him being his usual cheeky self with his big doe eyes and sticking his tongue out.

"She always caves ❤️ we miss you, honey! Come back soon"

and you cannot wait.

#bts jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #bts timestamp #it's been so long!!!#it's been sitting in my drafts for ages but i guess it's a way to break writer's block #dad!jungkook #dad!jk

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venusbby · 2 years ago

Text

i just feel like being itoshi rin's bestfriend is a whole new experience.

there is something about being rin's closest person that brings you a feeling of warmth and pride altogether. knowing each other for years, you were aware that the mighty itoshi rin was selective when it came to people he wanted to spend time with. sure, he had many friends, he was a professional player after all- but even he can't help but admit that nobody could compare with you.

maybe it's because to him, you aren't really a friend at all.

you're much more.

and he definitely does not want to admit that. so he does not.

you, on the other hand, have a hard time trying to figure it all out. one part of you thought in a more simple way.

he's just closer with me because we've known each other for so long, that's all it is.

and then there's the other part of you that is greedy and aching and yearning to get some sort of sign that he's interested.

you're not expecting much. this is itoshi rin we're talking about. he just doesn't do any of that stuff. it's crazy that you're even thinking about the topic of dating when all these years you haven't heard a single word from him about having a simple crush on someone. but again, this is itoshi rin. he doesn't say the things he doesn't want to say. he doesn't show the feelings that he doesn't want to show.

you scolded yourself every year for not getting over your little crush on your bestfriend. unfortunately for you, it went on increasing until your heart was overflowing with care and adoration for a guy who seemed absolutely clueless about romance and the wildly trending best friends to lovers trope in almost every recent book or movie.

in your case, the best friends to lovers trope feels a little less sad because rin never really showed any interest in other people.

oh, little did you know. but you're still glad that the person writing your story didn't pour the cup full of jealousy into your life.

it's almost comical how stupid the both of you are.

a hopeless romantic and her hopelessly unaware bestfriend.

the stupidity goes for a few more months. sneaky glances, touches that feel like a spark, those short words of affection that rin manages when you're at the lowest and oh, the birthday.

the stupidity finally stops at rin's birthday.

ten minutes left to 12 AM. you were trying to drive as slowly and as patiently as you could to rin's apartment. arriving early would just ruin the surprise. you needed to get out of the car when there were just 8 minutes left, so that by the time you reached the high floor of the apartment complex it would leave you with 5 minutes to prepare yourself and the box of cake in your sweaty hands, waiting outside his door. then you would enter when there's just a minute left.

only rin deserved this type of difficult and serious planning.

you felt the pride for being able to think so much and felt extremely smart for calculating this plan accurately. however, the feelings were quick to drain out and be replaced by nervousness.

he wouldn't be mad, no. you just didn't want to make him feel awkward.

rin never really made a big deal about his birthdays. that never stopped him from letting his teammates and friends from blue lock enjoy the day, though. every year, he booked some place they could spend time, eat, drink, party, whatever. he didn't care much, just watched bachira and isagi wreck havoc. as long as he had you sitting next to him, laughing at his friends' antics, he was okay. he also liked seeing you happy. his chest bloomed with some unfamiliar feeling every time you said that you were happy because he was happy.

one minute left.

you quietly entered with the spare key rin had given you.

for emergencies.

somehow birthdays counted, right?

the lights were off, and you felt a little dumb. it would be really embarrassing if rin wasn't even home. maybe even more embarrassing if rin didn't expect you to come at all and told you to go back home or something.

from the living room, you could still see rays of faint warm light making its way into the hallways, escaping through the doorway of his bedroom. judging by the low sound effects, you guessed he was watching another movie or tv show.

one thing your dumbass forgot to plan. how the heck were you supposed to call him into the living room without scaring him?

fuck it, you thought.

"rin, im home, come out here please." you tried, trying your best to sound as less alerting as you could, hoping you didn't scare the guy. from the way the sound of the movie quickly stopped after your voice, you grimaced.

quick, heavy footsteps followed as itoshi rin entered his living room. his expression was a mix between a scowl and a frown- a face only he could make. you paused before you could even try to explain.

paired with the handsome, annoyed face was the absence of a shirt.

what were you going to say again?

well, it didn't matter. rin spoke before you could even adjust to the unfamiiar view.

"what the fuck."

"uh, look-" you managed.

"no, what the actual fuck."

you pursed your lips in an attempt to put your mind to work, to come up with something- anything. those teal eyes felt vibrant even in the darkness of the living room with just more of the golden light from his room passing through- because of the bedroom door now being opened all the way. you shifted from one foot to another. he continued to stare, his eyes slowly travelling down to the cake you were holding.

"happy birthday."

itoshi rin, your bestfriend, exhaled.

two strides and he was standing right in front of you, expression unreadable, and maybe you were hallucinating, because in the slight darkness you thought you saw him smile.

"y/n, you're insane." he breathed out, running a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. rin's face felt a little warm when he realized how he looked in this situation. this is by far the most out of pocket thing you've done, in his opinion.

for you though, this reaction was somewhat better than what you'd expected. you bit your lip to hold back a smile and set the box down on the neatly kept coffee table next to you. "i might be."

it was already three minutes past twelve. but you didn't care anymore.

while you carefully removed the cake out and placed it on the table, rin turned the lights on, still not recovered from your sudden appearance.

"shit," you realized when the brightness of the light hit your eyesight, "i forgot the fucking candles in the car. sorry."

now as unbelievable as it sounds, it was rin's turn to hold back a smile as he muttered quietly, "stupid."

it was even harder to focus on the cake without candles in front of you, when itoshi rin was sitting next to you on the couch, shirtless.

silence filled the room, and none of you made a move.

why would you do anything anyway? wasn't it rin's job to cut the cake?

apparently, you seemed more interesting than the cake, because rin was staring at you instead. you stuttered underneath his gaze. "what, you want me to sing the song for you?"

he huffed, attempting to fix his hair so he could stop thinking about your sleepy eyes. god damn it. he didn't know how to deal with this, with the erratic beating of his heart.

"thanks. for this."

itoshi rin was malfunctioning. and you were the cause for that.

to that, you managed a genuine smile. it was nice to hear.

"it's nothing. i did it because i care." you said quietly, fiddling with your fingers, eyes focused on the cake. you don't think you can handle looking at him. it might tempt you to pour out all your feelings. you could save them for another day, just not his birthday.

the mess of your hair kept together by a hairband, your heavy eyelids and the nervous fumbling of your fingers, rin knew you meant more. you wouldn't do so much for him despite being so tired if you just cared. there was only one option he had, to show you how thankful he was.

you're out of your short anxious trance when his bare, strong arms slowly but confidently pulled you into him.

the shock doesn't last for long and you find yourself melting in his embrace, face resting against his shoulder as your arms made their way to his back, to hold him tighter.

the cake must be satisfied with this outcome as well because it doesn't complain as you both stay in the same position for quite a few minutes.

rin felt your breath against his collarbone and sighed.

"stay the night. i can tell you're tired."

you don't deny it, but still whisper, "let's eat the cake first."

he finally let out a soft chuckle, feeling relieved that you couldn't see him as he mumbled something along the lines of "that's why i love you."

wait.

did he say love?

#itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi brothers #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock headcanons #blue lock manga #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x y/n #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n

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tojisxslvt · 1 year ago

Text

Confessed feelings.

Summary: Toji comes over to pick up Megumi and Tsumiki, two children he loves deeply, but after a conversation they had at the park y/n goes home and pours her a cup of wine only to be interrupted by a knock on her front door.

Warnings-cursing, THE NASTIEST smut, and Toji because he is a warning himself

(Tojixreader) first person reader.

He’s so cold; despite the sly smirks and head nods every morning in the office, he doesn’t pay me any mind, and how I wish he fucking would.

For a while I’ve wanted him and only him, but he’s married with two kids, well he WAS married. His second wife sadly passed shortly after Megumi was born, yes Toji was married twice, his first wife he met during high school, and he had unconditional love for her, creating their first child Tsumiki. unconditionally, yet soon she passed, leading him to his second wife, to which he took her name.

But I always asked, how he could skip over me twice..I made it obvious that I cared deeply for him, but the feeling was never reciprocated.

Was it her body? Or was it merely her soul, I didn’t know much about her, but Toji, usually chill and quiet, wouldn’t shut up about her, especially his second wife, he loved her deeply, both of his wives that is.

But, once they passed he instantly distanced himself from anyone else only focusing on his children, and how could anyone blame him?

So I didn’t, and I still don’t, and ever since Megumi was born along with Tsumiki, I have always helped them, always watched them when I wasn’t going into the office and never complained never, the kids weren’t bad at all.

But it’s Toji, I want him, so bad, it aches my heart, he’s still cold towards me, any conversation about love he changes the subject instantly, he doesn’t care for love, and I’m starting to think, maybe he’s done with the whole concept, but honestly just being able to see him made me happy.

I dance to the music making lunch for the children that I was watching today me using my off day to be a free baby sitter but I didn’t care not a single bit, Megumi walks in the kitchen a blank stare following with him, he then makes his way over to me pulling on my apron getting my attention easily.

“Gumi? Why aren’t you watching cartoons?” I asked flipping the burger putting the spatula down picking up the boy, “I got bored.” He said in his normal monotone manner, I hum walking to the living room with him, hearing Tsumiki’s feet patter behind me “I’m bored tooooo can we go to the park!” She asked while I put her brother down, “your dad is coming over for lunch, maybe after we eat we can go,” I say patting her head causing her to giggle adorably.

Megumi blinked before calmly saying “I don’t wanna go to the park,” he then pointed to the door “I want icecream..” he insisted staring dead at me, he was a very quiet kid and always kept to himself, he was also very demanding but a gentleman just like his dad.

Tsumiki whined “that isn’t fair! I asked to do something first!” She said stomping her foot to which he shot her one of his blank stares as if he didn’t understand her attitude. “Okay then..why don’t we just do both?” He asked looking at me for approval. “I don’t see why not..” I said shooting them a kind smile.

“but I do want you two to eat lunch first I’m making burgers..” I say, causing Tsumiki to do a happy dance, “I love burgers!” She insisted to which Megumi just shrugged “I’ll eat it” he said causing me to nod “damn right,” before getting up pointing to the couch “just watch SpongeBob until I finish cooking please,” I asked the two kids hopping up on the couch watching the tv.

“Who lives in a pineapple under the sea! SpongeBob square pants!”

The tv sung causing the two kids to sing along, I make my way over to the kitchen again flipping the patty just in time.

After a few minutes I make the two plates “cmon you too foods ready your dad should be here to pick you two up soon, he texted saying he’ll be a little late but that was 2 hours ago..” I say putting the two plates on the counter top Megumi and Tsumiki to run over jumping up on the barstools by themselves instantly digging in.

I giggle at their expressions “good! It’s really good!” Said Tsumiki with a full mouth,” Megumi of course just shooting me a thumbs up as he ate. “I’m glad to hear it! Eat up you two,” and so they ate the room consisted of giggles and complaints from Megumi because his sister was smacking.

“Come on you two don’t start, Miki please chew with your mouth closed it’s unladylike to chew with your mouth opened..” Tsumiki smiled her mouth full of food before saying “I know I’m doing it to make him mad,” she said with laughter causing Megumi to grimace in annoyance, “well don’t because your brother isn’t bothering you,” I add, and she just stops nodding her head eating her food.

I prepare Toji’s plate before hearing a knock on the door, causing Tsumiki to yell “daddy!” She yells jumping off the barstool Megumi just turning looking at the door as I walk over opening it.

There he was, the tall muscular man peering down at me his expression immediately changing from stole cold to soft once he saw his daughter run to him “heyyy princess! You have fun today with [name] ?” He asked kissing all over the girls face causing her to playfully screech and giggle. “Of course I did! We wanted to know if we could go to the park and get icecream?”

Toji smiled “of course we can..” he said putting her down “thanks for watching them they adore you..” he said the scar on his lip turning upwards as he smiled softly at me, “you know it’s never a problem..” I insisted with a soft smile.

He glanced over at his son “hey son! You had fun?” He asked to which Megumi nodded with another shrug “my day was pretty average no complaints..” making Toji chuckle ruffling the boys hair “you never complain,” he complimented pecking the top of the boys head.

I grab his plate handing it to him and he takes it looking at it “you didn’t have to cook for me, did you even eat?” He asked to which I shrugged “I’m fine I know I can eat, you’ve been working all day just eat the burger,” I insisted but he simply handed it back “sit down and eat.” He demanded resting his elbows on the counter top “you’re gonna want to anyways if you’re going to the park with us,” he said looking at the food then at me with his deep blue eyes.

I fight the heat rising in my cheeks before sighing “but I made it for you,” I say with pout to which he thinks for a bit, looking around the kitchen before going to the drawer pulling out a knife cutting the burger down the middle, “now eat..” he said again, and without thinking I was sitting on the barstool picking up my half biting into it, and it indeed was very good.

I hum nodding and he chuckles “I dunno why you didn’t just make you a burger too?” He added picking up his half “because I ran out of meat and I wanted you to eat,” I say covering my mouth.

Toji shrugs “yeah but you have to worry about yourself before me, this is your house,” I look up at him still chewing before I turn my attention to the burger, I’d rather have him eat before I do, and he wouldn’t even notice my love for him.

“Are we going to the park or not..” said Megumi while he pulled on his shoes and jacket making Toji laugh a bit “yes can [name] eat before we go sir, last time I checked I’m the one driving,” Megumi sighed sitting down “take your time,” Toji mumbled to me ignore the complaints of his son.

After we ate we all got into the car and drove to the nearest park, “stay close don’t go wandering anywhere but near the park,” he instructed sternly to the two as we all got out of the car, “we’ll be right here he said while me and him walked to the metal bench his hands swiftly in his pockets while the kids ran directly to the swings.

Toji lets out a tired sigh taking his hands out his pockets leaning forward his elbows resting on his thighs, his eyes closed, he worked all day and still made time to come to the park with his kids, he really was a good dad even if he was away so much.

“Maybe you should have let me take them, you need to rest you workaholic,” I say watching the kids, Toji grumbles lifting up slowly his eyes still closed as he leaned back, “they need to get some fresh air once in a while, so do I..so I don’t mind that much..” he says softly.

I think for a bit before tapping my thigh, him opening one eye to look at me, “what? It’s just laying your head down..” I say blinking and he just sighs “you’re so naive..” he mentions closing his eyes again leaning his head down on my thigh kicking his foot up on the bench letting out a slow breath.

“What changed your mind..” I say softly looking down at him, “why can’t I be naive too..?” He questions relaxing his body with a soft chuckle. I smile burying my hands in his hair “a little too late for that huh..?” He asks turning his head to look up at me, his dark blue eyes piercing me.

I blush turning my head a little causing him to just laugh some more closing his eyes again, I think for a bit it’s now or never, “Toji..?” I start hearing his muffled “hmm…?” I think for a bit before finally saying “why is it that you over look me so much..” the air around us grew quiet.

Toji sighed out that causing my heart to burn, did I annoy him? Was the question too vague? He didn’t give me anything he turned his head looking directly in my eyes, “can we talk about this later..?” He said making me tense a little “I’d rather talk about it while we have the chance” “then you’ll be disappointed because I don’t want to discuss this topic right now.” He said sternly shutting me up.

Yes of course I brought this topic up before, like I said I made my feelings clear, I never once stayed quiet about how I felt, to anyone.

I sit back looking up into the sky fighting back the tears..it was just like that day 8 years ago..I felt the same feeling he made me feel again, helpless.

After an hour Toji sits up “alright fuck it, I’m tired, kids! Let’s go!” He called the kids whining as they made their way to us.

I kept my eyes on the ground, debating before finally lifting my head when he motioned for me to get up, “I’m going to go home on my own, I know you don’t feel like dropping me off, plus I could use the walk..” I say with a pain filled chuckle.

Toji looks at me holding Tsumiki’s hand “[name] get in the car please..” he said looking at me “I’m fine Toji..” I say sharply and he just sighs “this is childish of you..” he insists taking his children’s hand.

“I could care less..” I say softly standing walking the other direction leaving him there with the kids, Megumi yelled after me “we were suppose to get icecream!” But I didn’t even look back my heart completely shattered to pieces.

I made it home around 6 pm flopping down on the couch, me even trying with him was useless and I knew that, I look at my phone finally noticing I had gotten a text from Toji.

Toji 💙 “I said I didn’t want to talk about it now, not ever, pick up the phone.”

I stare at the message, was I mad at him? For years of deflecting my love and causing me to turn away and be single for four years? I only want him, I only ever wanted him!

The thought of it pissed me off even more, what stopped him from talking about it when we were all alone? Maybe I was being selfish and a bit bratty?

I think for a bit before turning my phone completely off going to go shower. Once I got out I get dressed in my nightclothes, a silk pink tight fitted night gown that was easy to slide up when my thighs moved.

I sit in the couch with a glass of wine, debating if I wanted to turn my phone on or not. I take a sip of wine looking for my remote. The moment I found it and picked a show I heard a loud pounding if my door, I flinch looking at my door “who the fuck?!” I say loud enough for whoever it was to hear.

I swing the door opened ready to cuss out whoever it was out, but my anger had subsided when I saw Toji peering coldly at me, I quickly cover myself a bit when I saw him looking down at me the kids by his side, I back up opening the house to them in silence.

I close the door rubbing my arms grabbing my cardigan off the coat rack, putting it on, “hey Gumi! Hey Miki..” I say softly Miki rubbing her eyes and Megumi stared blankly. “You owe me icecream..” he said causing me to giggle.

“Kids why don’t you go in my room, Megumi you pick a movie between both of your votes,” they look at Toji and he nods giving them the okay, once we hear the door close Toji looks at me and I keep my eyes on the ground.

“You had me worried,” he started wasting no time, “sorry..” I say in a tone that said I wasn’t really sorry at all, Toji huffed placing his hands in his pockets “don’t be childish [name] you know my situation,” “and I don’t pretend not to! But come on Toji! It’s been 8 years and between that you’ve married twice!” “Keep your voice down, I’m not yelling at you.” He said sternly making me shake my head.

“It’s a lose lose with you,” “I could have told you that,” he said smartly with a grin, I make my way around my granite counter being fed up, “fuck this, talking about this situation is useless..” I say opening the fridge, “I told you that, but no, you wanted to talk so bad then talk, I didn’t waste gas for nothing,” he said crossing his arms.

I roll my eyes grabbing a water bottle, “I tell you the same thing over and over Toji, do I really have to repeat it?” He sighed “no you don’t, I know you have feelings for me..and I don’t over look them” “yes you have for 8 years..” “that isn’t it..just fuckin’ listen..” he scolds while I open my water.

“You have something going on for yourself [name] why throw all of that away for me? Anyone who has ever been in love with me has died or left, I guess I’m being selfish because, I don’t want any of those things to happen especially not to you, the kids adore you, and I hold you close to my heart even if I don’t show it, all I wanna do is protect you and make sure you have a good life..”

I listen to his words, they instantly start to warm my heart, I hum placing the bottle down “thank you for telling me..” I say and he sighs “you still don’t believe me?” “No no, I do! It’s just that..I didn’t exspect to hear that at least not from you, I’m happy with it,” I say with a smile causing him to smile softly.

Toji let’s out a deep breath, “you can stay here tonight, it’s about to storm and I don’t want you driving in the rain with the kids..” I suggest Making a cup of coffee for him, Toji walks around the counter grabbing a cup for his coffee.

“I’ll hold you up on your offer,” he said smiling down at me making my entire face heat up, everything about him made my heart race, I was obviously upset earlier but now I don’t feel a inch of anger, his tall muscular figure standing right next to me almost made me have a panic attack.

“I should go change into something more appropriate..” I say pouring his coffee in the mug and he shrugs “for what? You already have a cardigan covering everything..” he added grabbing the sugar and creamer.

After he quickly drunk his coffee we talked for a while “I always thought maybe I wasn’t pretty enough..” I say fiddling with the ends of my hair Toji leaned down elbows on the counter “I don’t care about looks, but you aren’t ugly at all,”

I smile pushing my shoulder into him “did you just call me pretty,” “ I said you aren’t ugly..” he said sticking his tongue out at me, I giggle at his rude come back “well you don’t look that bad yourself” Toji looks at me lifting back, his waist pressed on the stove, “I know..” he said pridefully.

I giggle shaking my head, “I should go check if the kids are asleep,” Toji shrugged “okay? What if they aren’t then you just invited them out here,” he said causing me to laugh quietly shaking my head “I’m assuming you need a break?” “Oh so you assumed that?” “From the looks of it yeah..” Toji chuckled.

I lift up to stand next to Toji, staring up into his eyes, he cheekily looked to the side “you don’t know what you’re doing staring up at me like that..” I blink tilting my head “like what?” I ask, Toji meets my gaze again, “like you’re innocent..though your eyes tell me exactly what you want,” I blush, did they really?

I’ve always wanted Toji, but now I really craved his touch, I wanted him now more than ever actually, everything in my body wanted him, I hug myself looking at him, “well what do I want Toji?” I say still keeping my innocent act.

Toji smiled softly “alright..I’ll play your little game..” he teased, before shifting leaning down so he was right in front of my face at my level, he leaned in his lips inches from mine making my body tense “and I’ll win..” he said his eyes lustfully low as he eye fucked me.

I shiver returning the same lustful eyes, why would I ever miss this opportunity..?

Toji tilts his head looking at my lips a small smirk on his face. I can’t take it, not anymore after years of never being this close to the man I craved, of course I got greedy..

Instantly I leaned in but I felt him lean in as well our lips crashing together he hummed softly his voice low and sexily raspy as he did so. I whimper when I feel his hands wonder my hips guiding my body up against his, my heart was pounding out of my chest from sexual excitement, I was certain he could feel it.

He pulls back smirking at my reaction my tongue resting on my bottom lip I lean in again sliding my tongue across the scar on his lip making my lips wrap around his bottom lip sucking on it softly before I feel him lift me up with ease, setting me on the counter sliding his way between my thighs pulling me closer to him.

I shiver feeling the cold counter touch my skin wrapping my legs around his waist as we continued to make out my cardigan sliding down my arms as if it were moving out of the way, Toji kissed down my cheek to my neck his hands grabbing at my gown that the cardigan failed to cover.

He hums kissing back up my neck his hands sliding up the sides of my body making me choke back another groan, Toji lifted his head lifting my chin so I was looking in his eyes, “you might be fuckin’ with something you’ll get lost in..~” he said with a smirk.

I groaned scooting closer so I could feel some sort of friction on my covered clit, my body felt like it was on fire, we were so close, closer than we’ve ever been. Toji placed his hands on my lower back pushing me into him, “I’m guessing you don’t care huh princess..?~” he teased kissing my head softly.

I shake my head squeezing my thighs around him “please just fuck me Toji..~” I whine out my eyes locked on his lips, I watch them turn upwards into a smirk before I feel those same lips peck my shoulder pulling the strap of my gown down my arm.

His strong hands feeling so soft against my aching body, he fondled my breast through the silk gown sucking on my neck now, making me whine as I lean my head to the side to give him better access sliding my hands up into his shirt, biting hard on my lip as I feel his abs graze against the palms of my cold hands warning them up.

Toji hummed softly grabbing my wrist sliding my hand down to his sweat pants that perfectly complimented his growing print. I shiver at the heat causing Toji to chuckle softly, “ah, I see..you don’t like being teased do you princess?~” Toji asked sliding his hand between my thighs, my gown pushed up as I open my legs a bit so he could touch me, that’s what I wanted him to do instead of all this teasing..

He glanced at me with his deep ocean blue eyes, before softly pushing the pad of his big thumb against my pulsing clit.

I grab into his forearm my body hitching at the sudden interaction, he rubbed in slow up and down motions the sounds my clit made through the underwear made me blush, the sudden squelching and squishing it made caused Toji to lift his finger, it glistened in the light covered in my juices.

“Mm..” he hummed “you’re sensitive hm..?” He asked burying his hand between my thighs again sliding my panties to the side, cold air hitting my hot clit, I let out a shaky breath opening my legs wider when I see him crouch down forcefully pulling me closer to his lips and without warning he planted a soft kiss on my outer lips.

My shoulders jump as I look down at him with a bruised lip from biting it so hard, “keep your voice down..” he warns his command muffled before he slid his tongue against my already wet folds teasingly, I let my mouth hang open letting out a deep sigh my head falling back.

He sucked and teased my clit with the warm rapid moving muscle, causing my legs to shake, he was so good at it, I could see why he had two kids,

His hands wrapped around my thighs with passion holding me still with force because of the constant squirms and quiet yelps from him teasing my dripping hole with his flexible tongue.

Finally he plants one last gentle kiss on my harden Bud before he lifts his head, his chin glistening from my juices, “mmm..” he hums out licking his lips, pulling me closer to him me being a panting teary eyed mess, he grabs my chin “open..” he mumbled causing me to open my mouth.

Toji pushed his tongue in my mouth holding the back of my head gripping a clump of my hair as he did so, I taste how I tasted on his tongue as I sucked on it wanting him even more now, and he smiles his tongue in my mouth as I began to bob my head pulling back slowly looking up at him, my innocent eyes being taking over by lust.

I slide my thumbs in the waistband of his sweats, trying to pull them down and he watches me letting me pull them down a bit before he helped me “needy little one hm..?~” he cooed in my ear pushing his huge bugle against my bare clit.

“Toji..please..~” I beg wrapping my legs around him “if you keep begging like this I can’t promise I’ll be gentle..” he said kissing my head lovingly, I look up at him and he instantly meets my gaze “don’t be..” I insist, he lowers his eyes a bit before pulling my head towards his kissing me roughly his fingers getting locked in my hair and I shove my tongue in his mouth.

He wrestled my tongue while with one hand pulling his dick out of his boxers, I pull back a strand of saliva connecting to our lips, once it breaks I look down at his length, it was so pretty, and huge.

The tip oozed with precum, I shiver listening to him chuckle softly, as he strokes his dick with on hand pulling me closer and up off of the counter a bit, “hold onto me..” he whispered and of course I listened wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my face into his neck.

I feel the tip of his cock pierce my hole and finally he thrusted his hips up, my ass pressed firmly against the edge of the counter before lifts me off completely wrapping his arms around my thighs holding me up, my figure being so small pressed up against his huge body.

I gasp into his neck clawing at his shoulder as he softly sighs “you..haa..~ you have to loosen up a bit princess..” he said as my walls only continued to squeeze around him, yet that didn’t stop shit.

Toji thrusted all the way inside of me tilting his head against mine, he pulled back slowly then pushed back in, and once he felt it was easier he started to gain speed the sounds my pussy made while it squeezed around him made me feel so embarrassed.

It was calling for him as much as I was, and he was listening.

Toji thrusted faster making my body shiver under his touch fucking every inch of my brain to mush. I burry my face into his neck “fuuuuuck! T-ah!~” I screamed out into his neck trying my hardest to keep my voice down but he of course didn’t make it easy for me.

He puts me on the counter again slamming into me holding me close as he did so, not even trying to quiet me down not even the slightest. With each thrust came a squeal and a low raspy groan.

My walls accepted every inch of him with pure bliss my pupils disappearing as my eyes rolled back from the abuse my uterus was receiving. Toji slowly pulled out panting making my body hitch “wait no don’t-“ I whine not wanting him to stop getting so close to finally cumming. Toji walked around the counter with me still in his arms before he placed me on the couch flipping me.

His strong hand pushing my head into the couch my back arched, Toji wasting no time simply used his thumb to push my ass cheek out of the way to get a clear view of my pussy, before pushing his cock into me from behind, causing me to instantly tighten up earning a grunt from him. Toji held my hips pounding into me without hesitation.

I grip onto the couch cushion my mouth remaining opened from the gasp I let in as he fucked me from behind receiving continuous strings of moans from me I reach back and he simply intertwined our fingers tightly rolling his hips perfectly stroking my gspot with no problem at all, making me wince the feeling of climax growing strong making the knot in my stomach uncomfortable.

I jerk my hips back making Toji tighten his grip on my waist pulling me back whispering in a hoarse tone “don’t run..~” digging his nails into my waist as punishment. “Shit shit! Fuck! I can’t..!” I moan out shaking my head repeatedly and he just continues to thrust ignoring me.

Toji lifted me back into him by my neck rubbing his hand down my stomach holding it there as he sucked mercilessly on my neck causing many bruises on my neck, while we sat up on our knees making him pound into my Gspot even more now, the sound of heavy panting and skin slapping filling the room causing an echo.

I feel tears roll down my cheeks as he fucked me senseless feeling him touch me in ways my head couldn’t wrap around made my thoughts completely disappear, the only thought that remained was that; I couldn’t wait to cum.

Toji slid his hand up into my gown pinching my nipples gently and tugging on them as he thrusted far up into my core making my walls sore from the constant abuse it withstood. He grunts his teeth clenching him baring a fang, “I’m cumming..~” he warned making me pant shaking my head, “don’ttt..mh! Don’t pull out..” I happen to get out.

Toji smirks kissing my ear tenderly before letting out a shaky breath saying “didn’t plan on it..” sucking on my earlobe, making my entire body shiver I was completely at my limit and overwhelmed as he pushed me back down into the couch slamming it all into me, every last inch.

I bite hard on my lip to fight back the loud screams I so desperately wanted to let out reaching back to claw at his thighs as he grunted out with each thrust, finally he slammed into me once more holding my hips against his as his cum oozed into me, he leaned down placing a kiss on my head.

Finally after some time he pulls back looking down at the mess we created. I pants rolling over holding both of our cum, “Toji..” I hum out and he smirks down at me saying softly “let it out..mama..” he purrs.

I laid there a complete mess panting as I cover my mouth releasing everything felt so, Good.

After a bit I sit up completely sore and tired. “So..” he starts rubbing my hair that was plastered onto my forehead from sweat back into the rest of my hair as I looked up at him tiredly, “was it worth waiting eight years for..?” He asked with a mocking smirk.

And it was, I nod my head feeling my mind turn fuzzy thinking if I stayed up any longer I might pass out, he chuckles kissing my head.

“I know..” he said cockily with a teasing grin.

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