#not able to know about her life. if she is okay. if her heart is recovering. if her mind is not killing her. is part of the punishment too

[jpmarvel90]

Dont Belong Part 3

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Word Count: 7175

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: Y/n's infection is hitting her hard and she's still struggling with her feelings on her parents. Thankfully, Yelena is there to help cheer her up and she brings along a surprise that might just make everything feel better!

Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom

Y/n POV:

These last two days in the hospital have blurred together, a monotonous cycle of dull light and beeping machines. The weight of my infection drags on me, leaving me shivering one moment and sweating the next. I've spent far too much time staring at the ceiling, feeling trapped in this sterile room, yearning for the freedom of my life before the mission went sideways. The boredom is suffocating, and I feel like I'm losing pieces of myself with every passing hour.

I feel a constant gaze from my parents who rarely leave my side. It's strange to go from having them ignore you to being around all the time. Part of me feels like things were like they used to be when I was a full part of their family. The other part of me is screaming saying they don't mean it and will soon be gone again.

But today feels different, a whisper of hope fluttering in the air. I've been waiting for this moment, and when a familiar knock sounds at the door, my heart races with anticipation. "Can I come in?" Yelena's voice calls softly, and I can't suppress the grin that spreads across my face at the sound of her.

"Of course!" I call back, the eagerness spilling over in my tone. I sit up a little straighter, my heart pounding as I manage to prop myself up, using the button on the side of the bed to elevate myself.

The door swings open, and Yelena steps in, her expression a mix of relief and worry. Her golden hair catches the light, and I can see the telltale signs of sleepless nights etched under her eyes. "Y/n!" she breathes, rushing to my side, her voice trembling slightly as she takes my hand.

"Yelena! I'm so glad to see you." The words come out a little breathless, and I can't help the surge of emotion that washes over me. Just seeing her makes the room feel a little less confining, a little brighter.

"I can't believe you're awake," she says, her grip tightening around my fingers. "I was so scared. We all were. You had everyone worried sick." Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of my situation lifts just a bit. I don't think I've ever seen Yelena emotional like this before and it helps me realise how bad this whole situation is. She would never allow anyone to see her this vulnerable except for Mama.

"Hey, I'm okay. Well, sort of." I gesture weakly to the IV drip, the hospital bed, and the machines that surround me. "Just a little out of commission at the moment."

Yelena's smile is tentative but bright, yet it's overshadowed by the concern etched on her face. "I just hate seeing you hurt like this. You're my niece and I thought I would always be here to protect you." She shares honestly.

I give her hand a squeeze and share a warm smile when she finally looks up to me. "I can't be protected forever. Besides, I need you now. This recovery is going to be shit and I need you to help me when it gets too much." I reassure her and she nods. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to help you through it all. Stark has even set me up on the same floor as you. So, I'll be there whenever you need me." She explains, making my heart warm with the thought of seeing her for a while to come.

"What about the widows?" I ask, knowing how much that means to her. "I've already been able to help so many. Now I need to help you. The others can wait. Besides, Kate can do the research on where we need to go next." She replies. "Who's Kate?" I ask, surprised to hear that she is working with someone else.

"Just a stray that Clint found. She's annoying, but oddly fun to be around. I think you'd like her. I'm sure she'll be around at some point to say hi." She explains with a shrug.

As the initial shock of seeing me seems to fade, I can see the corners of Yelena's mouth twitching upward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. It's as if she's flipping a switch, her demeanour transforming from worried auntie to the playful, teasing friend I know and love.

"You know," she starts, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms, "for someone who just woke up from a dramatic hospital nap, you look surprisingly like a zombie. I mean, I thought they had strict rules against bringing the undead into the hospital."

I let out a soft laugh, despite the ache in my chest. "Yeah, well, the food here isn't exactly helping my cause. I'm pretty sure I could survive off of those tasteless mushy meals for a week and still look better than this."

Yelena raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Mushy meals? I'd expect you to be on some gourmet diet, considering all the special treatments they give you. I'm starting to think you should at least get some ice cream as a post-surgery reward." She chuckles. "Now that's the kind of thinking I can get behind. Have a word with Tony yeah?" I reply, feeling my spirits lift. "Ice cream sounds amazing. But what are the odds of that happening here?"

"Zero. But I'm prepared for this. I'll break you out of this place and take you for ice cream. You just need to give me the signal, and I'll burst in through the window like a stealthy ninja." She mimics a dramatic leap and landing in mama's pose. "See, I'll even do my best poser impersonation!" She playfully teases and she now starts to pretend to scale the invisible walls of my hospital room, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness. "You can count on me, Y/n. Ice cream shall be yours!"

I chuckle, the image of Yelena performing an acrobatic escape making the heaviness of the past days lift a little more. "What flavour are we talking here? I hope it's not vanilla. I have standards, you know."

"Vanilla? Please! I was thinking more along the lines of double chocolate fudge with extra sprinkles. And maybe a side of cherry sauce because why not go big, right?" She shares her thoughts whilst taking the seat next to me again. Her hand resting over mine. "Now you're speaking my language," I respond, shaking my head in mock seriousness. "If I'm risking a hospital breakout, it better be worth it." I laugh.

Yelena sits back in her seat, her chest still rising and falling as she laughs at her own hilariousness. She then looks back up at me. "But seriously, let's plan this for when you're feeling better. I'm not above a hospital escape." Her grin is contagious, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing. "Deal. Just don't forget the sprinkles."

As our laughter fills the room, I realize how much I've missed this lightness, this camaraderie. It's comforting to think about having Yelena by my side as I navigate the uncertainty of recovery and family dynamics.

But beneath the playful banter, there's an unspoken understanding between us, a bond that allows me to express my fears without words. With Yelena around, I feel like I can face whatever comes next, armed with humour and the knowledge that I'm not alone in this fight.

"Just promise me one thing," I say, my voice turning more serious again. "Anything," she replies, her gaze earnest. "Don't let me give up on the ice cream party, okay? No matter what happens."

"Never! I'll be your ice cream guardian," she declares, puffing out her chest with mock pride. "We will have that party, and it will be legendary. I will personally ensure that you have the sprinkles of life!"

With that promise hanging in the air, I know I can count on her not just for ice cream but for so much more as I navigate this complicated recovery. Even amidst the challenges, I feel a renewed sense of strength.

Though the playful atmosphere soon disappears as Yelena looks at me with a hurt look. "You know," Yelena begins cautiously, glancing around the room as if making sure no one else can hear, "I've been really worried about you. Seeing you like this. It's been hard. I didn't expect to walk in and see my Y/n looking so weak."

"Yeah, well, welcome to the aftermath of a bullet wound," I respond, a hint of sarcasm lacing my tone, but her expression remains sombre. "I mean it, Y/n," she says, her voice low. "I can handle all sorts of dangerous missions, but this... this was different. You're my niece. I've seen too many people get hurt, and it scares me to think about what could have happened if things went even more wrong."

"I know. I didn't want to worry you, but... it's not like I planned to get shot," I reply, my voice softening. "I was trying to do my best, and it went sideways."

"It's not your fault," Yelena reassures me, squeezing my hand gently. "But promise me you'll be careful. Don't rush back into missions. I can't go through this again. I thought I lost you."

"I'm not going anywhere yet. You've got me for a while longer," I say with a playful lilt, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Her smile falters, but she doesn't let go of my hand. "You have to promise me you won't get hurt again. I mean it. You don't have to be the hero all the time, you know." The gravity of her words sinks in, and I can feel a lump forming in my throat. "I thought I was doing well. I thought it was my chance to prove myself," I admit, my voice quieter now. "Prove yourself? You don't need to do that. You're already a part of this family," she insists, her voice firm but gentle.

But I can't shake the feeling of inadequacy, the bitter sting of doubt that lingers in the corners of my mind. "I don't feel like it," I confess, looking down at our hands intertwined. "Not after everything that's happened. My parents... I don't know. It's complicated." I begin tentatively, not sure how to express the turmoil inside me.

"They've hurt me for so long, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around why they suddenly seem to care. It feels like. I don't know, like they're trying to make up for lost time. They've been... around. Too around, if you know what I mean. They've been acting all concerned, but it feels more like an obligation."

I've felt torn about this since I've woke up. They're around all the time and trying to do everything that can to help me. But all I can think about is how much they have hurt me and if they would ever be able to make up for their past actions.

Yelena nods, her expression serious. "It's okay to be conflicted. They've done wrong by you, and you have every right to be angry. But if they're genuinely trying to change, maybe there's a chance for you to heal too." She suggests, similar to how Steve has these last two days.

"I don't want to forgive them just because they're here now. It feels disingenuous," I admit, frustration seeping into my voice. "I've been raised to believe that actions speak louder than words, and I need to see real change." I state irritated. "Then hold them to that standard," she urges, her voice steady. "Don't let them slide by just because they're your parents. You deserve more than that." She iterates.

"I guess I'm just afraid of being disappointed again," I whisper, feeling a shiver of vulnerability wash over me. It hurt so much when I slowly seemed to disappear from their lives. I don't think I could experience that again. "What if they go back to ignoring me once I'm healed? What's the point of this?" I share, tears stinging my eyes.

Yelena leans closer, her brow furrowing as she studies my face. "That's not fair to you. They hurt you, and it's okay to be angry about that. But you deserve to feel loved and cared for. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for." "Stronger?" I scoff lightly, but inside I feel a flicker of hope. "I barely survived my first mission and ended up in a hospital bed. That doesn't feel strong."

"Strength isn't just about fighting, Y/n. It's about surviving, too. You survived, and you're still here. You're still fighting." Her voice softens, and I can see her eyes glistening with tears. I nod slowly, her words resonating with me. "You're right. I just don't want to get hurt like that again. I thought joining SHIELD would mean I'd finally be seen, but now... it feels like a mess."

Yelena shakes her head, frustration evident in her expression. "No. You're not a mess. You're human. They need to step up and show you that you matter, but that doesn't mean you have to accept their love without question. You get to set the boundaries. You get to decide what you want from them moving forward. But I do believe that you have to give them a chance to show you that they've changed." She shares, taking me by surprise.

"It was years Yelena. How can I move to just forgive them for everything that's happened? Just because they're here for my recovery, doesn't mean it makes up for everything that they've done." I raise my voice getting frustrated that no one seems to understand the depth of how much this has affected me.

She thinks for a moment before speaking up. "I know I can't understand the pain they caused you. When I heard about what they did to you, I was ready to kick both of their asses. But I've seen this determination in them. Especially Nat. I just don't want you to let the anger eat you alive. You deserve more than that. You deserve to heal, not just physically, but emotionally, too." Her words resonate deep within me. I can feel the weight of my resentment pressing against my chest, threatening to suffocate me. "It's just hard, Yelena. I don't know if I can trust them again. What if they just go back to how things were?"

"That's the risk, but it's also a chance for something better. Maybe this could be the start of a new chapter for you all," she replies, her voice filled with hope. "I mean, how many people get a second chance to rewrite their story? You can make it count." She tries to reason with me. "Or I could just end up disappointed again," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, no one said life was easy," she counters, leaning forward, her tone shifting to a playful challenge. "You've faced worse. You survived a bullet wound, for Christ's sake! How about you take that strength and channel it into something more positive? Like confronting your parents." She suggests. "Confront them?" I echo, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.

"Yeah! You're a badass. You fought off those Hydra agents; you can fight for your own happiness." she encourages. "Don't let anyone else dictate your worth. Not your parents, not Hydra. No one."

"I'll think about it," I concede, knowing that deep down, she's right. Maybe facing my parents isn't just about them; it's about taking control of my own narrative, my own healing. "Good," Yelena replies, her smile brightening the room once more. "And remember, no matter what you decide, I'll be right here, cheering you on. We're in this together, ice cream and all."

As I gaze into her determined eyes, I feel the flicker of hope igniting within me. Yelena is right. I can't let the past dictate my future. Perhaps I can find a way to reclaim my voice, my choices. And with her by my side, I feel like I can face whatever comes next.

__________

The soft hum of the machines is a constant companion, a backdrop to the quiet conversation happening in the room. Mama and mom sit nearby, each offering their own version of silent support. Mama, with her usual calm demeanour, sits crossed legged in the chair near the foot of my bed. Her posture is relaxed, but her sharp eyes betray her constant vigilance. She notices everything, always has, and I can feel her observing me like she's looking for something beneath the surface. Mom on the other hand, has stationed herself at my side, like aways. She's less fussy, thankfully, but still has to be close, like I'm going to disappear if she's not.

Sometimes, I find the silence unbearable compared to their constant and sometimes suffocating fussing over me. I feel on edge, like they're waiting for me to talk to them. I think back to what Yelena said about confronting them and doing it on my terms. But I want to do it in the right frame of mind, and at the moment, this infection is still kicking my ass.

Mama breaks the silence as her well trained eyes watch me for a while. "How are you feeling Y/n?" She asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me, as though she's trying to catch me out if I say the wrong thing. "A bit better." I respond with a slight nod, my words carefully measured. I don't want to give too much away. Not about how I'm feeling and especially not about the swirl of doubt that's been growing inside of me since the incident.

"Are you sure? You're sweating." She points out, sitting up. Mom goes to reach for my forehead, but quickly retreats her hand. She's been trying really hard not to be too much and I'm grateful for that. I should have known that she could see straight through me and notice the discomfort I'm in. "Just a little." I admit. "Is there anything we can do? Would you like some water? Or we could change the quilt for a blanket if that would help?" Mom suggests.

I think for a moment before giving in, knowing that I am burning up a little too quickly. "The blanket would be better if that's ok." I respond, earning a warm smile from mom as she stands and moves to grab the blanket as mama takes the quilt and folds it up. "Better?" Mom asks as the thin blanket now rests over my legs. "Yes. Thank you." I quietly respond.

"You're being strong, but you don't have to be." Mom says, her voice soft but persuasive. Her green eyes watching me too closely. "We're here for you." She states. Something I've heard more these last few days than I have in my whole like.

I offer a tight smile. "I appreciate that." I reply, but there's something hollow in my words, something they both notice. I see it in the flicker of mama's eyes, in the slight frown mom tries to hide. They want me to let them in, to trust them. But I can't. No right now.

The knock on the door interrupts the thick atmosphere. As we all look to the door, a smile grows on my face as Yelena pushes open the door, bursting in to the room with her usual energy. Her blonde hair bounces around her shoulders as she strides in, a smirk on her lips. She's a welcome distraction from the unspoken suspicions swirling in my mind.

Behind her, there's someone new. A brunette with wide eyes and a slightly awkward smile follows in her wake, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. It's clear she doesn't quite know what to do with them as she shifts nervously, standing next to Yelena like she's trying to figure out how to fit in. "This is Kate." Yelena says with a grin, motioning to the brunette with a flourish. "Oh, right. The annoying stray Clint picked up." I reply with a grin, my eyes flicking between Yelena and the new girl. I feel a small flutter of nerves in my chest, but I push it aside, trying to appear casual.

Kate gasps dramatically, placing her hand over her chest as if wounded. "Annoying stray? Really? Is that how Yelena described me?" She shoots Yelena a mocking glare, then turns to me with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Don't listen to her. I'm delightful, I promise." She smirks.

There is something instantly disarming about her. Her smile is infectious, and I find myself grinning back before I can stop myself. "I'll be the judge of that." I say, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Kate's laugh is light. "Well, I guess I better make a good impression then huh. I'm Kate. Nice to finally meet you."

As if she suddenly becomes aware of the other two people in the room, Kate suddenly becomes a lot more nervous as she steps forward, holding out the flowers a little awkwardly. "I, uh, thought some flowers might brighten up the place." She says her voice light but tinged with nervousness. "If you don't like them, I can... I don't know, take them back or something."

I can't help but smile at the sudden awkwardness, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. There's something captivating about her, a clumsy sincerity that feels genuine. Like she's not trying to be anything other than who she is. If's refreshing, in contrast to the more guarded and calculated vibes in the room.

"No, no. They're nice. I love them." I say, accepting the flowers with a smile. "Thank you." I say gratefully. Mom steps in to help, taking the flowers from Kate and placing them on the beside table. She flashes Kate a smile, but I can't help but notice the way her eyes flick between me and Kate, like she's sizing up the interaction. Her protective nature is sweet, but right now it feels like an intrusion, like she's watching too closely.

Yelena of course, can't let the moment go without making it awkward. "Oh great. The two of you are already making goo-goo eyes at each other." She says with a snort, dropping herself into a chair next to mama with a dramatic sigh. "I should have seen this coming." She says to her sister. "Goo-goo eyes?" I sputter, my cheeks burning. "Yelena, we literally just met." Kate for her part, looks just as flustered, running a hand through her hair as she laughs awkwardly. "Yeah wow, not even five minutes in and I'm already being roasted. Thanks Yelena." Yelena has a mischievous grin as she gives Kate a thumbs up. "Hey, I call it like I see it." She shrugs.

I glance at Kate again, and despite the teasing, there's something about her that puts me at ease. Something feels unguarded in a way that I haven't felt around my parents lately. She seems real, no hidden motives, no unreadable layers. Just Kate, awkward and charming in her own way.

Mama raises an eyebrow at Yelena's comment but stays quiet, observing as always. Mom though let's out a soft chuckle, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks between Kate and me. "I think it's sweet." She says, but there's an undercurrent to her words. A subtle probing as if she's gauging how close I'm willing to let this new person get.

I shift uncomfortably in my bed, trying to shake off the unease. "Kate seems nice." I say, trying to keep things light. "But you don't need to start planning a wedding already." I joke, earning a loud laugh from Kate.

Yelena leans back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Well, you're already doing better than most people who meet Y/n. She doesn't usually warm up to strangers this fast."

"Yelena." I mutter, shooting her a look, but the playful banter is enough to make me feel a bit more like myself again. Even if the tension with my parents still lingers beneath the surface.

Mama exchanges a glance with mom, and I can feel the weight of their unspoken thoughts. They're both protective, maybe even a little suspicious of the new dynamic. I know they're trying to look out for me, but their watchful eyes feel too heavy right now and to be honest, they don't have the right to have any thoughts on this right now. They've barely been my parents for the last couple of years. They don't suddenly have a say in who I'm friends with.

"Well, at least you brought someone who isn't here to lecture me about being shot." I tease, giving Yelena a pointed look. Kate grins clearly relieved the conversation has shifted. "I'm just here for the heist planning." She smiles, her tone light. "Whatever Yelena has you roped into, I'm in." I join in the joke. Yelena perks up at that. "Oh, you have no idea what you've signed up for Bishop. This one here," she jerks her thumb at me, "has a history with getting into trouble."

Kate moves to take the seat next to me as both my parents decide to give us some space and grab some lunch. I'm grateful for them being able to read the room, but I notice the observant and narrow gaze of mama as she passes by Kate. I'm pretty sure I see Kate gulp a little which makes me laugh lightly.

"So," Kate asks, crossing her arms. "what's the plan for today? Ice cream, hospital jailbreak or maybe both?" She smiles, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter. "Oh, Yelena's already promised me ice cream, but she keeps postponing the jailbreak." I tease, glancing over at Yelena who's pretending not to listen.

Kate lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "Typical. She makes all these grand promises, and then when it comes time to actually execute..." Kate starts teasingly before Yelena speaks up. "I'm literally right here." She complains, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "And for the record. I would have busted you out, but your mother threatened to remove all the mac and cheese from the building if I did." She admits with a child like huff.

"Still scared of mama huh?" I smirk, earning a harsh stare from my aunt. "No!" She defends loudly. "Well, maybe when it comes down to you." She admits quietly, making Kate and I laugh. "Well, well. I've finally discovered the one thing Yelena Belova is scared of." Kate torments Yelena. "Yeah, well don't forget that you're the one scared of me." Yelena points out giving her fiercest glare. Something that makes Kate shrink back into her seat. "Yep. You're right. Sorry." She apologises goofily, making me smile even wider.

There's a beat of silence, but it's not awkward. It's easy, comfortable, and I'm surprised at how quickly I've warmed up to Kate. She's sharp, funny and there's a confidence about her that makes me feel more at ease. I can tell she's someone who doesn't take life too seriously, but there's a genuine warmth underneath the sarcasm.

Yelena is watching us again, her arms crossed, and her eyebrow arched like she's trying to figure out how this is going to play out. "You know, I might actually enjoy watching this." She says, her voice laced with amusement. "You two are way too cute. It's like watching a rom-com in real time." She smirks

"Okay, enough of that." I say quickly, feeling my face begin to flush, this time not due to my infection! I glance to Kate who is grinning like she's in on some joke that I'm not, and I can't help but laugh. "Yelena, don't you have some Widow business to attend to?" I question hopefully. "Nope." She says cheerfully, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "I'm on babysitting duty today." She smiles proudly whilst I just roll my eyes. Maybe I do want my parents back right now!

Kate leans closer to me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Does she always talk like that, or is it just for us?" She questions. "Always." I whisper back, earning a glare from Yelena. "Alright, alright." Yelena says, pretending to be offended, but her eyes twinkle with amusement. "I can see when I'm not wanted. I'll give you two some space. Try not to flirt too much while I'm gone." She teases.

"And you," she stops in front of Kate, a stern look on her face. "If she so much as flinches you call the nurse. I will have your head if anything happens to her." She warns her lowly. Kate just nods, gulping at the threat. "P-promise." She stutters. "Good. Text me if you need anything. Now have fun being all awkward and flirty." She smirks as she saunters out of the room.

Suddenly, it's just the two of us, the room quieter but still filled with that easy, playful energy. I glance over at Kate, feeling a bit of awkwardness settle in. But it's the good kind that makes my heart race a little.

"So, what now?" I ask, trying to sound casual? Kate shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I don't know. I mean, we could plot that jailbreak. Or maybe..." She pauses, her eyes meeting mine. "We could just hang out and get to know each other a little better." She suggests.

There's a warmth in her gaze, something that makes my heart flutter, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of excitement. Not just for the ice cream or the jokes, but the possibility of something new. Something good. And maybe, just maybe, I'm ready for it.

Nat's POV:

My sharp eyes have always picked up on the subtle shift in a person's demeanour, the tiniest details that others overlook. Right now, I'm studying Kate Bishop. She's awkward sure. A little too wide-eyed and jittery, holding onto those flowers like she's afraid they might combust. There's a clumsy sincerity to her that I can't decide if I trust yet. Y/n though... Y/n is smiling. Laughing even, and I haven't seen that kind of lightness in her face in far too long. Still, I remain cautious.

I watch as Y/n teases Kate, the easy flow of their banter rolling off Y/n's tongue without the weight that usually accompanies her words. It's almost as if she's forgotten, if only for a few minutes, about the turmoil she's been going through. And while I want that for her, there's a part of me that can't let go of my protective instincts. That part that wants to dig deeper into who Kate Bishop really is, figure out if she's worthy of my daughter's trust.

Because Y/n doesn't let people in easily. Wanda and I have made that even harder for her now. To be able to trust is a difficult thing. I don't want to see her hurt more than she currently is. Not after everything that I've caused.

Wanda's voice pulls me out of my thoughts as she steps up beside me, her arms crossed but her expression soft, watching the interaction with a gentler gaze than I have. "She looks happy." Wanda murmurs. Her voice has that quiet thoughtful tone that always means she's been observing the situation for longer than I realised.

I nod, though I don't take my eyes off of Y/n. "She does." I admit reluctantly. Wanda notices this and quickly makes up an excuse of going to get some lunch and we quickly exit the room. Probably much to Y/n's delight!

"You don't like it?" Wanda asks, her lips twitching into a small smile. She can read me too easily, knows exactly what I'm feeling even when I try to keep it to myself. We hover in the corridor outside of Y/n's room as I sigh. "I didn't say that." I glance towards my wife, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I know you." She chuckles softly, and it's a warm, comforting sound that cuts through the tension I've been holding in my chest. "Nat, you don't trust her yet." It's not a question, and I don't answer right away. Instead, I look back through the window into Y/n's room. My eyes falling to the pair of them. Y/n has leaned a little closer to Kate, her laughter soft, her smile genuine. Kate's making some grand gesture with her hands, her enthusiasm endearing in its awkwardness. Okay, I think. Maybe she's not so bad.

But still. "I just don't know her." I say finally, my voice low. Wanda hums in understanding, her gaze never leaving Y/n. "But look at her, Nat. She's the happiest we've seen her in a long while." She points out. I know she's right. Y/n hasn't had this kind of lightness in her eyes since the incident. Even in the days leading up to it, she was closed off, burdened by the trauma we had caused her. I couldn't do anything to help her, I couldn't fix what I had broken. And now here comes this Kate Bishop, breezing in like a ray of sunshine, making Y/n smile like it's the easiest thing in the world.

I sigh, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. "Maybe." I admit after a pause, my voice quieter now, more reflective. "Maybe Kate is what Y/n needs right now." Wanda turns her head to look at me fully, a surprised look on her face, but she soon gives me a soft knowing smile. "That's not easy for you to say."

"No, it's not." I say honestly. "But I can't ignore how she's acting. It's good to see her like this." I glance to Yelena who's still grinning like a proud instigator of all this chaos. Y/n has her laughing too, which is aways a good sign. "And Kate, she's not what I expected." I share.

There's an awkward clumsiness about the girl sure. But underneath that, there's a kindness in her eyes, something genuine that makes me reconsider my initial assessment. She's not just some reckless kid, despite the reputation. She cares and that means something.

Wanda places a gentle hand on my arm, squeezing lightly. "It's ok to let your guard down a little." I chuckle under my breath at her words. "I don't think I'm wired that way, Wanda." I reply. "I know." She laughs softly. "But maybe you can try. Kate isn't here to hurt Y/n. She's just, being a friend. Maybe that's exactly what Y/n needs right now." I nod, though my instincts still bristle at the idea of lowering my walls completely. "You're right. But I'm not going to stop being protective. Not after we failed her so badly." My gaze hardens just a fraction. "I can't."

Wanda's expression softens further, understanding in her eyes. "No one's asking you to stop protecting her Nat. Just, give this a chance. What ever it might be." She pleads. I look at Y/n again. She's relaxed in a way I haven't seen her in months. The tightness in her shoulders is gone, replaced by something lighter, freer. And I realise that I'm not the only one trying to protect her. Maybe, in her own way, Kate is too.

"I'll give it a chance." I mutter quietly. "But I'll be watching." Wanda smiles knowingly. "I wouldn't expect anything less." She says as both our gazes fall to our daughter. Just then, Kate says something that makes Y/n burst out laughing, the sound so full of life that it catches me off guard. My heart clenches that it's taken this long. That Wanda and I created an environment where she felt like she no longer belonged in this family.

I know it's going to take time for her to even consider forgiving us. But I know that it's important that she has other people around her that she can talk to and have fun with. If it's just Wanda and me she'll become completely closed off. Maybe being around Kate is exactly what she needs. It doesn't mean I'll let my guard down completely. Not yet. I will always protect her. That's what mother's do. Even if I haven't proven my right to that title in a long time.

_________

As Wanda and I step back into our home, the familiar chaos of our boys welcomes us like a warm embrace. The scent of something sweet wafts through the air, mixing with the sharp, clean smell of wood polish from our recent cleaning efforts. I can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and playful shouting emanating from the living room, and it brings a smile to my face despite the heaviness still clinging to my heart.

Tommy and Billy have been asking about their sister non-stop over the last few days, and every time, I see the worry deepen in their little faces. They've felt the weight of Y/n's absences as much as we have, maybe more.

"Hey, you two!" I call out, my voice breaking through the din. Almost immediately, Tommy and Billy come barrelling into the hallway, their faces lighting up like it's Christmas morning. They launch themselves at us, wrapping their arms around my waist and Wanda's legs in a tangle of limbs and giggles. It's a comforting noise, one that momentarily pulls me away from the weight of the world outside these walls.

"Mom! Mom! How's Y/n? Is she okay?" Tommy's voice rises with excitement, his wide eyes sparkling with a mixture of hope and anxiety. I exchange a glance with Wanda, who stands beside me, her own expression tinged with a protective softness. It's a moment like this that reminds me just how much the boys adore their sister.

"She's still unwell, sweetheart," I say gently, kneeling down to meet Tommy's gaze at eye level. "But she's doing better than she was. She'll be home soon." I try to sound optimistic, but the knot in my stomach betrays me. I know how much they want to see Y/n, and how hard it's been for them to understand why she isn't here with us.

"Soon? Like tomorrow?" Billy asks, bouncing on his toes, his dark hair flopping into his eyes. There's a slight hopefulness in his voice, and it makes my heart ache, knowing they're so eager for good news. Wanda steps in beside me, placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder, her touch gentle and reassuring. "She's going to need a few more days in the hospital, honey. She's got to rest and get better first." I watch the way Wanda's eyes soften when she speaks to the boys, how she has an innate ability to make even the hardest truths sound a little lighter.

"But her birthday is coming up!" Tommy exclaims suddenly, his expression shifting from concern to realization. "We have to make it special for her! Can we plan a perfect birthday for her in her hospital room?" His enthusiasm is infectious, and a flicker of warmth spreads in my chest at his determination. Billy nods vigorously, his face lighting up with ideas. "Yeah! We can decorate it and bring her cake! She'll love that!" The energy in the room shifts, and I can see both boys imagining the decorations they might hang, the cake they might bake, and the joy they hope to bring their sister.

"That's a great idea," I agree, feeling a swell of pride as I watch them brainstorm. "But we need to wait until she's feeling a bit better, okay? We don't want to overwhelm her." Tommy frowns slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. "When can we see her?" His voice is earnest, full of longing. I can hear the worry tucked beneath his words, and it tugs at my heart. "Yeah, we want to see Y/n!" Billy adds, his expression mirroring his brother's eagerness.

Wanda glances at me, and I can feel the weight of our responsibilities bearing down. "We'll take you to see her in the morning," I promise, seeing their faces light up with hope. "But remember, she might be tired and need to rest, so we have to be gentle with her."

"Yay!" Tommy cheers, his voice ringing through the hallway, and Billy joins in, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. Their joy is palpable, a reminder of the happiness that can still exist even amidst uncertainty and pain.

Just then, Steve steps out from the kitchen, having been quietly observing the boys from a distance. His presence brings a calmness to the chaos, and I find comfort in knowing he's here. "Hey, how are you two doing?" he asks, his eyes twinkling as he takes in the scene of our little family reunion.

"Mama and mom just told us that Y/n is coming home soon!" Tommy exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement, his hands flailing as he gestures animatedly.

"Yeah, and we're planning the best birthday for her ever!" Billy adds, his voice bubbling over with enthusiasm, his cheeks flushed with energy.

"Sounds like you're all set for a celebration," Steve says with a smile, nodding approvingly. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms as he watches the boys with fondness. "I'll leave you to it. Just let me know if you need anything." He shoots us a knowing look, one that acknowledges the weight of what we're dealing with, before stepping back into the kitchen.

As Wanda and I stand there, our boys filled with excitable plans, I can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and dread. Gratitude for the moments of joy, the laughter that fills our home, and the love that binds us together. Sadness that our family isn't complete and dread for the challenges still ahead. We're still on shaky ground, still trying to piece together the remnants of our family after everything that's happened.

But for now, I push those worries aside. I take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of our home, and look around at the smiling faces of my children. "Okay, let's start planning for this birthday celebration!" I suggest, my heart lifting at the idea of planning something special for Y/n.

"We need balloons. And streamers!" Tommy states excitedly, his eyes bright with ideas. "And cake!" Billy insists, his mouth already watering at the thought. "What kind should we get her?"

As we brainstorm, I can't help but smile. We'll take this one step at a time. Tomorrow, we'll bring the boys to see Y/n, and hopefully, we'll be one step closer to bringing her home where she belongs. Hopefully, she'll see that we plan to be the best parents to her and in time she'll forgive us. I feel a flicker of hope, ignited by the boys' excitement and determination to make their sister smile, to show her that she is loved and missed.

"Let's get started," I say, my voice full of warmth as I gather them into a huddle, my heart swelling with pride. Together, we can do this. Together, we can find a way to help Y/n heal, and maybe even begin to mend the cracks that have formed in our family.

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist @oh-thats-cute @bstvst @waiqui @fxckmiup @kosmichs1 @theprincipality

[sandwitchstories]

Monster In the Middle

Hello, Hello! Here is the next installment in my series of drabbles, headcannons and one shots about Dad!Sukuna!

Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! (No real rhyme or reason here, only things they in common are Dad!Sukuna and fluff)

Authors note: Okay… Look, I know when I started this whole Daddy Duty series I swore there would be no running story but lets face it… now that we named her (Mouse), we have to keep her. So what do you guys say to more adventures in Mouse's Mini-verse?

If you prefer to read on AO3 click here !

Summary: Sukuna has long since grown accustomed to being woken out of his sleep by any number of things. However, this is a first. His position has been usurped, and by none other than his 2 year old daughter.

WC: 750+

CW: Reader is referred to as Mama but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, he thinks she got the sass from you but he's pretty damn sassy if you ask me...

Since the first time Sukuna allowed himself to sleep beside you, he had become accustomed to waking up in a state of confusion. It occurred even more often now that his daughter was an expert at escaping wherever she was put to sleep. (He was pretty sure they couldn't build a prison that would be able to keep her inside at this point. Handy when she was older, frustrating as a toddler.)

The first time he woke in confusion was that first morning he woke up to the weight and warmth of you in his arms. The second time was confusion at your kissing him all over his face because you said (a direct quote etched into his brain forever) that he looked “beautiful.” How could a seasoned and feared warrior with his unique body traits ever forget someone calling him beautiful and meaning it with true sincerity in their eyes and heart?

But not all wake ups were so sweet. He had woken up to you loudly doing things, seemingly just to get to him to wake up. (Many years later he knew it was unintentional. It was just that you were absolutely incapable of doing things quietly.) He had woken up to you shoving him away because of something he did in your dreams. He had woken up to you licking his nose, biting his arm, and many number of other things he couldn't remember now. But suffice it to say you kept his life interesting and your daughter followed in your footsteps.

But still, this was a first... Sukuna, the over 7 foot tall, 4 armed, 4 eyed menace to society, the King of Curses and Deadly Poisons, the strongest sorcerer in history and obviously the big damn spoon was currently displaced... usurped from his rightful position in his own damn bed.

Sukuna… had become the middle spoon.

You were spooned in his arms right where you were supposed to be. But Mouse had maneuvered herself during the night to currently be attached to the back of his neck and shoulders, drooling and snoring away, apparently making baby's first attempt at being the big spoon.

He carefully reached behind himself and removed the adorable goblin before setting her down in your arms. Impressed with himself for moving her without waking her, he settled back down to go back to sleep. But seconds later his revelry was shattered. 

Tiny hands pushed at his arm and then his chest, giving him a stubborn but barely conscious glare. “Move Papa.”

“What did you say?” He asked softly, determined to at least not wake you.

“Move Papa, please,” she repeated, shoving again at his chest.

“That wasn't what I meant, Mouse.” 

If Mouse was anything, she was determined. She clamored over you, carefully for a toddler, and used her feet too. She was on a mission and she was undeterred. 

Sukuna gave up, scooting back just a little and letting her worm her way between the two of you. He watched as she settled down and closed her eyes. Spoiled rotten. That is what she was. 

He gave a little chuckle and closed his eyes. Finally. He could get back to-

“Papa.” 

Are you fucking kidding me? “What?!”

“You're doing it wrong,” his little girl said in a sleepy whine.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He stared at the back of his daughter's head with amazement. She definitely had inherited your audacity. 

Her little hand reached back and fumbled around until she found his hand resting on your hip. She grabbed onto it and pulled at one of his large fingers with her tiny hand. He was about to say something when she rested his hand on your side so his arm was draped over her too.

“Like this, Papa.” She gave a big sigh as if the weight of the world was lifted off her shoulders. “Love you, Papa…”

“And I you, little mouse,” he let out a soft chuckle. 

He rearranged his hands so one remained on your side, his large arm draped over you both, keeping the two of you close. His now free hand ran fingers gently through his daughter's pink hair that matched his own. He laid a gentle kiss to the back of her tiny head before closing his eyes.

While so far it seemed that he had only contributed his pink hair to the tiny menace now sawing logs like a 60 year old man, but he loved her just as fiercely as he loved you. His precious little chaos gremlin. Perfect in every way. Just like you.

[springcourthighlady]

Briar gently cups his face with both hands. "I wouldn't break your heart."

Her eyes search his. "Just so you know." Her hand squeezes his back, and her free one rests over his heart. "I know you're scared of it. I know the thought of being broken again keeps your walls up. And maybe I seem stronger just because I talk more, but I'm not."

She leans closer, her brow on his. "I am willing to be vulnerable with you. Despite the raging fear and the chill of it in my chest. I want us to be able to be equally vulnerable with each other. Perhaps I know it's okay because you saved my life--and perhaps you don't because I haven't proven myself to you yet. But...I will. I want to."

Her thumbs brush his cheekbones. "Please just try. I won't ever pry your feelings from you. But I would hope that you could trust me to tell me about the fears you have. If not now, then...eventually. When I prove to you that you can. And that I'll be there."

She shrugs and finally lets go of him. "Not sure what you'd need me for unless you have another nightmare but...I promise. I'll be there if you need me to be."

She hops off the bed and brushes her disheveled hair again in front of the vanity, glancing at him in the mirror.

"I'm not a monster, you know. And neither are you. But perhaps we both have claws and teeth that can balance each other out. I know words mean little when you've lived through devastation, but...hearts are like glass to me. And yours...well...yours is like porcelain. Precious. Fragile. I want to tend to it."

A small bit of her faeness seems to glimmer through Tamlin's shapeshift as her eyes glitter with genuity.

"Let's go get our boy, hm? Will you ever tell me why you looked like you saw a ghost when you saw him?"

This Life is Sweeter Than Fiction (ft. @springcourthighlady)

Daylight folded through the narrow window in the room of the inn and warmed Tamlin’s face, urging him to wake. He wasn’t a morning person. Given his proclivity to stay up late into the night, waking up was not exactly his favorite thing. He was used to waking up to a cold bed and sore body, pained from a night of thrashing through his nightmares alone. Instead, this morning, he woke to the gentle breath of a female on his neck.

Still sleepy, his dreams had a hold on him, and he remembered the early days before the mountain — before all hell rained upon his court, before he’d lost his faith in himself, and in love. Yet, he woke further and the body next his own did not line up with memory, only emotion.

The way he’d danced around the lines with Briar last night was not far from Tamlin’s mind as he woke. Mornings? Those, he didn’t like. Morning affection? Oh, how sweet it was to taste.

Still, the High Lord pushed a reminder of his boundaries into his view, forcing away the rose tinted glasses.

Sleeping together was different than sleeping together.

He carefully climbed from the bed and pulled the blankets back up to Briar’s shoulder. A shower would do him some good, but they did not need more temptation. Still, she tended to panic when he disappeared. Tamlin pursed his lips and entered the bathing room, locking it twice, magically and manually.

The cold water dripped down from the pipes and once again settled him back into a stern sense of reality. They had a purpose here. This wasn’t a vacation…nor a honeymoon. It was a rescue. At least one of them needed to keep their head on straight.

He pulled his clothes on and wrapped a towel around his long hair, leaving the bathroom with a toothbrush. Sure — he could use magic to power through these tasks; but apparently he needed to get better at being human. That meant brushing his teeth with a small, infernal, tickly device.

By the time he turned around the privacy screen and into the room, Briar was awake.

Well. She said she wanted him to practice being human.

He furrowed his brows, with a teasing smile. “Hush. High Lords have dental hygiene too.”

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Because the week wasn't sad enough, there had to be a new Lenny interview that broke my heart a lot more. 🥺😭🥲

[wherela]

they should invent a friend for me who doesn't randomly stop talking to me for no reason

[gatun-gatunesco]

...

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also to go "wow this is just like in pentiment" about absolutely anything and/or "wow this is just like iphigenia crash land falls on the neon shell that was once her heart (a rave fable)" about absolutely anything further:

the Narratives within crash land falls where like, in the end iphigenia being Given the story of both "this is going to happen anyways" and "so why don't you see it as a noble sacrifice to accept." the situation happening to Create a story that she was killed, so her father must be tragic, and sympathetic. that iphigenia does take on that Narrative of taking on the Noble Willing Sacrifice, and it kills her, but she also would have been killed anyways, as everyone also knows. that we even get a bit of pentimentesque [other characters observe & assess things] like, the fresa girls as a chorus, and one at the end like yeah She Was No Saint, i saw everything, but being cut off by The News that's like yeah looks like iphigenia was killed, that seguing into her father saying yeah she was killed, god's will was done, She's A Saint now. seguing to the emcee who introduced the play, but that superceded by achilles, and that superceded with iphigenia's extasis monologue as the end of the play. that whether iphigenia's a saint or not, she dies. that [the whole play] tells us as much, like, this isn't a What If kind of retelling where she escapes her fate, this is a retelling examining itself like, she Will die because the story's preset, so what to do with this as the story that has to take her there, what to do with this as iphigenia who has to go there

that iphigenia takes on another narrative in addition to the one offered by like, violeta as guide and oracle telling her she has to die (As A Noble Sacrifice), that again (as per iphigenia in aulis being like uh hey daughter. let's go to aulis so you can uh marry achilles (it is to be sacrificed)) achilles is this bait, but it's only in the ending that there's any Story about being with achilles, and when iphigenia goes to the mercenary soldier who she knows will kill her, she's the one telling him what to tell her about where she's going and why, i want you to tell me achilles is waiting for me....and she still dies, because This Is The Story. as also applied to the reality, iphigenia as another dead and missing girl following & preceding many; any disappeared deaths when consumed as disposable & replaceable, not given part of any narrative about it. while also iphigenia only gets a chorus of fresa girls from there being crosses put on the factory wall with their names, with one girl even remarking like hey they spelled my name right for once. but at the same time they're also like, both mere Apparitions but also like standins for people who are simply alive. real [shades]esque kind of, i suppose, but like they're not Sanctified for dying either, they'll comment on iphigenia but not with any like, divine knowledge, just as this out of place rich girl. whether iphigenia's A Saint or Not A Saint, she's still dead either way. she wants to be a fresa girl, they maybe want to be her, but everyone's doomed anyways thanks to way larger forces and the Stories that have been told and will be told again

but there's also the moment right before the final section wherein, before she's having to say what she wants within the bounds of [she has to die], there's achilles asking "you still want me" and iphigenia answering with "i want everything" and her vision for, like, getting to be alive actually, i'm on the gulf where the sea is gray, and no one wants a piece of me....the whole inciting event here where iphigenia wants to evade her fate however she can, exiting the bounds of her life, the physical bounds and the family unit and walking away from the rank of status / class / wealth, trying for [have her body for herself] and what the body wants, the sensuous indulgences of (a rave fable), let's hear some more about the roman state like "we don't like the examination and challenge and upending of class and convention in a bacchanalia, so only do the official versions we permit;" the Threat of people's desires for themselves, when that's going to be counter to those in power who'd want these people to be resources at their disposal; the burden on the disempowered to suffer [the only way out is through] with the Additional pain & loss that has to be taken on in pursuit of their autonomy, while also of course suffering for the autonomy they lack, that restricted and controlled and mitigated versions of what you might want are deigned to be provided or permitted so that you have Something, but that everyone's actual undeniable personhood will always be spilling past those bounds, the potential power of transgressive pleasure when one's wellbeing and autonomous choices are counter to the power structures that have to constantly try to suppress and preclude this. achilles just as bait, doomed to die like iphigenia is also still doomed, sex was never going to save everyone and the [recognizing connection as these two parallel people / We're The Same] with your lover here is not going to save everyone but it still makes more things possible for them both; iphigenia does know what she wants, and gets some of it because she wants it, same with achilles in turn, while it can't save anyone from their fates still. but it can mean something even if it doesn't transcend, like even a fleeting night of insignificant dancing that doesn't change anything can mean something, and we all die, but that doesn't mean it's Nothing to be killed any more than it's Nothing to have your desires or choices one way or another to be wrung out of your life before you are

anyways, the stories. the Looking and Presenting here. achilles and iphigenia first encountering each other as images put together and presented by someone else for their own purposes. the presence of what's seen through film/camera/recording versus in person; the potential power relations and even violence in framing, presenting, and the intended looking and assessing. repeated language about eyes/looks that burn, while also that connection between iphigenia and achilles, and their finding the least room in what they do have of their lives for more of their own wants and selves and something genuine and not predetermined, is also connected to eyes and looking and being seen and light and burning. while they're also connected to the protection and possibility of night and darkness, getting to exist and be Without being lit up or seen; that with the power that's still in play, it's never like, well then you should have nothing / no reason to hide; the penultimate moment in the play with achilles being one that's in person and fades into darkness, rather than coming in from the light of a projection / video onscreen as the introduction....iphigenia needing to be guided through a crossroads to even get to achilles in person; violeta giving the Advice and Story and Tradition to pray to eleggua, as iphigenia does before getting to encounter achilles for real, who also doesn't get to break out of a role or a fate in full in any way, but their tragedies are like, pointing towards [autonomy, imagine it] in both the ways they manage to find a little bit of it for themselves, in no small part for simply recognizing each other as in the same boat here, and in the ways they still don't have it and still can't get it

and anyways it's also inevitably saying like, telling a story?? this Play is a told story!! looking? assessing? interpreting? you're doing that in the course of experiencing it! and it's really so fucking true.

[fingertipsmp3]

I swear to god everything from the weather to my equipment to my neighbours to my own fucking body is conspiring to make sure I don’t get a good run this week

[princessbrunette]

In need fathers day with baby daddy rafe, pretty pretty please princess 💕

ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ

you always felt nervous going to tannyhill. not that you felt unwelcome, everyone in his life made it clear that rafe’s baby was of utmost importance to them — so with that came the kind and supportive treatment toward you. however, you couldn’t help but feel like a burden. if rafe wanted to be around you and his kid 24/7, he would do so — hell, he’d get back with you. due to feeling like this, your palms were all sweaty by the time you’d reached the front door, card tucked under you and baby carrier weighing down your arm.

he looks surprised to see you when he opens the door. still in his shirt and slacks, it’s clear to you that rafe had buried himself in work today. it only then occurs to you that father’s day might be difficult for him, giving his circumstances at all. you inwardly wince.

“uh, hey.” he eyes you, itching his cheek and peering into the baby carrier.

you clear your throat, bashfully holding out the card. he takes it in silence and you place the carrier down, picking up your sleepy baby and holding her to your chest. “happy father’s day, daddy.” you smile, voice soft as to not disturb your child too much. he softens a little, blinking.

“that today?” he breathes and you stiffen a little. surely he knew?

“uh, yeah. we got you a card, wanted to let you spend some time with her today if you’re not too busy.”

“if i’m not too— listen i’m never too busy to see my kid okay? or you. i’m— i’m never too busy to… see my family… and stuff.” it’s awkward, the sentiment too soft for his liking and he looks down, staring at the sweet, milk-plumped angel in your arms. “let me…” he reaches out and takes her, her fat little fists immediately stretching for him and curling into the material of his shirt making your heart swell. he was always oddly a natural at this, handling her so well. it always filled you with a strange kind of sadness, one that regressed you slightly to something more scolded and childlike because your own father hadn’t offered you that same generosity. yet, you were thrilled your baby would receive that love even if you weren’t together with her father.

“come in, please.” he stands aside, holding the door for you before picking up the carrier in his other hand— effortlessly walking it with the baby to the living room. “you walked here?” he converses, setting the carrier down and placing the baby back inside, crouching down to stroke her tummy with the side of his finger.

“took the bus. no way im walking with that heavy thing.” you chuckle quietly and he swivels his head to glance at you.

“should’ve told me you were coming i would have got you. y’know i really don’t like you getting on the bus with her, it’s not safe alright, there’s all kinds of lunatics out there.”

“we survived.” you shrug, and there’s a short silence before he stands up, reaching for the card and opening it up. you fiddle with the hem of your dress awkwardly. you never quite knew what to do around rafe these days.

you watch as he reads the contents. ‘to daddy, thanks for being the best and always looking after me. can’t wait to be able to tell you myself how much i love you.’ you sign it off as your daughter, but his eyes linger over it, your sweet handwriting scrawled around the brightly coloured paper — almost for a moment like you were saying it yourself.

“and before you ask, yes she said all of that herself.” you joke to ease the tension and he snaps out of it, looking up at you with a chuckle.

“our little wordsmith, huh?” he smirks, wandering over to the mantelpiece and displaying the card. it filled you with some kind of pride, though it wasn’t about you. “look uh…” he strokes his jaw, glancing over at the baby. “let me take you both out for dinner, yeah? my treat.”

“your treat? rafe its father’s day, we’re supposed to be treating you—”

“i know, alright but… i’m supposed to be looking after you, right? looking… looking after you both.” he corrects himself, walking closer to you until he was basically looming over you, eyes wide. “and— and i know this is a hard day for you too, alright— shit, it’s a hard day for me. gotta bond as a family at some point, you know that right?”

you nod, feeling a weight off your shoulders a little at the way the tension fizzles out.

“you sure? i don’t wanna take up your time—”

your incessant apologising makes his eyes flutter in irritation and he takes your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him as he ducks his neck down to be more at your level.

“you’re not… yeah? you’re not. so quit.”

you blink all dumb, not realising how badly you missed his hands on you even if it was just as an innocent gesture and you nod, not trusting your voice. you try not to overthink the way he leaves his hands there for a moment as he glances over at your baby, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheekbone for a second before pulling away and patting his pockets. “has she slept?”

your brain malfunctions so it takes you a second, but soon you choke out a “y—yeah. had her afternoon nap she’s just still waking up.”

“good. i know somewhere quiet, got a host there who owes me a favour.” he strides to the carrier and lifts it before turning back towards you, blinking at you obviously. “well are you coming or— or what?”

“yeah. yes. i’m coming.”

ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ

[thinkinonsense]

I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ

dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader

cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.

wc: 800+

a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.

Your Logan.

"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.

Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.

Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?

Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.

"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."

"I know."

Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.

"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.

"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."

Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.

"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."

"You don't have to be."

ᰔ

It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.

All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.

"What are you doin' awake?"

The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.

"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.

"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.

"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.

"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.

"Were we really married?"

You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.

"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.

"Five."

"What was our life like?"

"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."

"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.

"You would have to."

He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.

"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.

Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.

"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"

"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."

You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.

For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.

[dean-winchesters-clit]

I need y'all to understand how fucking important it is that their lovemaking song was La Vie En Rose.

Those translated covers you hear on TikTok take their lyrics from a Louis Armstrong cover of the original French version sung by Edith Piaf. The English lyrics are beautiful but there are some things lost in translation, which is why I love that they had Izzy sing the original French version while Stede and Ed are making love.

Edith Piaf's version of the song is all about the intensity of love and finding love after a trying time. Her vocals are incredible and bleed all the different emotions she feels while singing. Izzy starts with the English translation of the song, which goes:

But a closer translation to the original French would be:

"Quand il me prend dans ses bras; When he takes me into his arms/ Il me parle l'a tout bas; He speaks to me softly/ Je vois la vie en rose; And I see life through rose-colored glasses."

Obviously this is fine and dandy, but it's the translation of the original French lyrics used later in the episode that really get me. Izzy sings this:

Which translates to this:

"He speaks words of love to me/ They are every day words/ And they do something to me.

"He has entered into my heart/ A bit of happiness/ That I know the cause of.

"It's only him for me/ And me for him, for life/ He told me, he swore to me, for life."

It's that last verse that the English version just wouldn't be able to capture. The translated version of that verse is about angels and love songs and mentions nothing of a vow to love one another for life.

That's what's so special to me about the French version of the song being used in that moment. Edith Piaf sings as a person who has lived through so much pain and suffering (which she definitely did as a French woman living through World War II) and finally finds comfort and peace in the arms of her beloved.

That is ultimately what Ed and Stede are for one another. Safe harbors, calm waters, peaceful days and nights in each other's presence. They bicker and argue and hurt one another, but they always come back together so easily. Stede was hurt and needed reassurance, needed to prove to himself that he wasn't a whim, needed to feel the security of Ed in his arms. And perhaps they shouldn't have gone all the way that night, but they're both impulsive and obsessed with each other and they needed something.

It's that song that lets me know they're gonna be okay. They're intense and impulsive but they compliment each other. They fit together perfectly, and they find comfort in one another no matter what's happened to them in the past. They need their harbors, their anchors, each other. They'd never leave each other behind. They make each other's lives la vie en rose.

(Edit: fixed a translation error)

[gojoest]

BEDTIME STORY (about love) — gojo satoru

in which satoru tells his daughter the story of how you met. those of you who’ve read this already know, but your now 4-year-old daughter is yet to hear it

girl dad satoru, father-daughter time, she/her pronouns used for reader, wc: 1k, not proofread, just a silly little thing

“papa”

“yes, my life?”

“how did you and mama meet?”

“oh my, i never told you the story?”

“no, papa. you didn’t”

“well—"

one thing gojo satoru never fails to do, no matter how busy his schedule, is reading bedtime stories to his 4-year-old daughter. even when he’s swamped with missions, he would make sure he is at home by the time his daughter had to sleep — after tucking her in, he would sit beside her with a book in hand and read her a story until she’s fast asleep.

but tonight, your daughter asked for a different kind of story — the origin of your love, how the two of you met — and truth be told, satoru was more than excited to talk about it (as he always is whenever the topic in question involved you).

his eyes glowing with the same old dreamy glint anytime your name was mentioned, he puts the book on the nightstand and makes himself comfortable next to his little one in bed. slightly scooching her over so he could sit with his back leaning against the headboard, he cradles her in his arms and takes a deep breath before starting.

“it all happened on my birthday, 7 years ago”

“december 7th!”, your daughter excitedly points out.

satoru chuckles, his chest swelling with joy that his little daughter remembers his birthday. “that’s right, my life. your mother came into my life like a birthday present”, his lips curl into a gentle smile as he reminisces about the night that changed his entire life.

“was mama invited to your birthday?”

“no, but we just happened to be in the same restaurant that night. while i was celebrating with friends, she was there, on another table, with her coworkers”

your daughter hums, “i see”

“she was so beautiful, i noticed her the moment she walked in. and i couldn’t take my eyes off her for the rest of the night. i knew i had to go and talk to her before she left. something in me knew she was the one, you know?”

your little one tilts her head up to look at satoru, eyes curiously blinking, “but how did you know, papa?”

“my heart whispered it to me, beating relentlessly the entire time. it was like this unknown force was pulling me towards your mom and the whole time i was trying to come up with a plan, an excuse even, to go talk to her without coming off as a weirdo”

“and did you succeed?”

“well, by the looks of it—”, he points at her and gently boops her nose, “i did”

she chuckles sweetly, “no, papa—i mean did you manage to not be a weirdo?”

“hmm, i’ll let you decide on that one. so pay attention, okay?”, to which she silently nods. his hand rubs the top of her head softly before continuing.

“you see, i couldn’t think of anything but nor could i wait any longer. i decided i’d just go and say hi. so i stood up and made my way towards her table. i had to know her as soon as possible, because every second of inaction felt like it was taking away from my future with her. any second was precious, you know? if i could be with her sooner, be it even a planck time earlier, i had to take it — as it would only add up to the time spent with her”

“what is planck time, papa?”, your daughter cuts him off.

“it’s theoretically considered to be the shortest measurable time”

“is it less than a second?”

“waaaaay less”

“woah, papa you were down bad for mama”, your daughter gasps in amusement.

an audible laugh breaks through satoru’s lips, “yea, i was. and i still am”

“and what happened when you went over?”

“i said hi but she wasn’t having it at all, didn’t even bat me an eye. tried to chase me off before i was able to introduce myself. but i was already determined to make her mine, i knew it deep down that she was my person. so i forced my way and introduced myself”

“papa you’re a stubborn one”

“yea, but your mother turned out to be even more stubborn. she dodged all my attempts at her. so, i had to make it very clear to her, let her know that the man standing before her was the one to be her boyfriend, then her husband, and then the father of her children — therefore, in order for all this to work, i asked for her number”

“you really said all that?” — satoru nods to her question affirmatively. “papa, that’s so bold of you, honestly”, another gasp leaves your 4-year-old’s mouth. “and then?”

“and then she got mad at me, thought i was playing around with her”, satoru chuckles, brushing a hand across his face at the memory, closing his eyes to replay that very scene in his mind. your reaction is still pretty vivid to him, how your eyes grew wide in disbelief after what he had just told you...

i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children — and you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children…

…and then how you narrowed your eyes and gave him a good lecture.

is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?

“to be honest, i was slightly panicking internally — this was my best move, you know? and it was failing. but luckily, your uncle suguru came to my aid. he convinced your mom to give me a chance before blatantly turning me down. and she did — i got her number by the end of the night”, a soft smile painted on his lips again. “look at us now — wasn’t i right about all that?”

“papa, you’re a hopeless romantic”

“you bet i am”, he smugly confirms.

“…and a bit of a weirdo”, she cackles quietly.

“oi”, satoru furrows his brows. his hand softly tickles the side of her, incurring a loud laugh on her end. “shhh, time to sleep now or else mama will scold me for keeping you up past your bedtime”

“but, papa — you did well, being a weirdo paid off”

“yea, it really did — it gave me a home and a family”, his eyes soften observing the treasure in his arms.

[sharkikive]

Ken Sato with a supermodel!reader pls pls pls

Like they're dating in secret but accidentally reveals their situation and their fans go wild

OMG sure! Sorry this took time for me to write and I really do hope you'll like it <3

runway to your heart (ken sato x supermodel!fem!reader)

Summary: A baseball player and a supermodel, both celebrities in their respective fields. A relationship that had to be kept under wraps.

It was supposed to be a secret... until it wasn't.

Word count: 6,913

CW: Fluff, slightly suggestive (he def talks you through it), Ken Sato being the boyfriend of the year

A/N: I tried my best in writing this because I am not familiar with both fields (baseball and modelling) so here you go! This was purely out of my own imagination and is very, very self-indulgent because damn, who wouldn't want Ken Sato in their life? Rich, soft spoken, a good father, and the list goes on. Hope you enjoy this one just like how I kicked my feet every single time Ken becomes THE boyfriend.

***

Cheers erupted throughout the whole stadium and through the speakers, mixing in with the noise in the dressing room.

Hair rollers tucked in, brush with powder dancing across your face, and a neutral expression to let the makeup artist do his magic. Your eyes dutifully closed as the artist worked on your eyelids, but your ears got sharper to hear the conversations around you.

You knew who the main topic in the room would be, and that was the man that had just scored another point in the game on screen.

“Oh God,” you heard one of your model colleagues groan. “Ken Sato is too attractive. Look at that smile, that body-” she stopped talking and addressed you next. “Y/N, isn’t Ken Sato so handsome? Imagine being his girlfriend. That would be a-ma-zing.”

Your eyes were still closed and you hummed an immediate reply. “He’s okay. I’ve seen better and-” You opened your eyes when the makeup artist told you that he’s done with your eyes. “He seems like a cocky bastard.”

Your colleague, Hina, gave an exaggerated gasp as she heard your reply. “You did not just say that about Ken Sato. If he isn’t your type, I wouldn’t know who else would be able to satisfy you. He is the most sought-after man.”

You shrugged. “You never know. Maybe I like a single dad who has to raise a kid on his own, with him himself having daddy issues.”

Hina narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously, before prancing over and stared at you. “You know that whatever you described was very specific? Y/N,” she said, almost quietly, “are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah, I’m seeing you, Hina.”

She clicked her tongue. “You know, you always answer so smartly. One day, Y/N, I will discover your secret!”

You chuckled, watching as Hina got dragged by the stylist, prepping her to get her up to the runway. Your turn was still a long way to go, so you were left with your hair held up by rollers, while your eyes caught a notification on your phone. You read the notification and smiled, but quickly returned to a neutral expression.

The message read: It’s another win for us tonight, baby. Can’t wait to see you after this. Good luck for your show today, and break a leg. I know you’ll do great.

You typed in a reply, quickly snapping a picture of your prepped face and sending it over to the recipient. You weren’t even able to put down your phone when the next reply came in the next second.

You swore, this person could make you smile without even knowing, which could be a very risky thing considering the nature of both of your relationship.

Looking gorgeous as always, baby. The text message read. I really am the luckiest man to have you.

You put down your phone as your name was called over; your turn was approaching fast. You were practically floating around from one point to another, having different hands adding last-minute touch ups.

The line was moving fast before it was your turn, and you could see that every one of the models who finished their turn returned with a grim look on their faces backstage. You looked at the small entrance, and when you spotted Hina, you quickly signaled for her to come over.

“Was the runway condition that bad?” you whispered to her, whose hair was going in different directions at once.

“They said they wanted to simulate an ‘extreme condition’ on the runway, right?” She did quotation marks.

You nodded, agreeing to her. “Yeah.” You inched up the line. “The theme for today’s show is extreme weather.”

Hina exhaled slowly as she attempted to fix her hair. “All I can say is that they managed to replicate it well.” She shook her head. “Good luck, Y/N. You’ll need it.”

You turned your head back to the front, your turn coming closer as the models in front of you went out to continue the show. It was a rapid show, where you finally had your turn right after Hina disappeared behind a row of clothes.

You understood what Hina meant as soon as one foot was out from behind the scenes. The runway was boxed within a transparent glass, protecting the simulation from the audience.

From years of experience, you put on your best face before walking down the runway, doing your best in showing off the collection.

You were sure they were trying to imitate a blizzard, but the worst they could offer to models wearing heavy dresses and high heels. You saw the model in front of you fall first, the strong winds knocking her back before as she couldn’t fight it back.

One rule on the runway: you keep on walking, no matter the condition. Walk over your fellow models, maintain your expression and show off what you have. It’s an unapologetic world out here.

But that’s exactly the reason why you’re known as the rule breaker around here.

While maintaining your face, you did a show of reaching out to the fallen model, helping her up to let her continue, but you figured this time around, being a rule breaker did have its consequences.

You knew the fallen model; she considered herself as your rival, always trying to one up you in every single aspect. Every, single, aspect including boasting about having a ‘sweetheart’ while you don’t.

Your rival, Mei, quickly took this as a chance to get back at you and embarrass you in front of the audience. She accepted your hand at first, but you realised that she was pulling you down instead of pushing herself up. Not enough with it, she added an extra push, disguised under the pretext of accepting your help to get up.

You were thrown to the side, and coupled with the condition on the runway, you almost tumbled off the path. Luckily, you managed to break the fall but as you landed sideways, you could feel the bruise forming near your right ankle. You cursed silently as you saw Mei picking herself back up and smirking in a split second before strutting away, leaving you stranded.

You knew no one was going to help you up as long as the show was on, so you braced yourself while continuing. Throughout the whole show, you managed to finish without breaking rhythm. You didn’t let the pain hinder you, although all you wished to do was to be lying down, giving your body a much needed rest.

Backstage after the end of the show, your manager, a sweet woman in her 40s, quickly rushed to you. A single mother of 2, Ms. Tornado as you’d like to call her, as she always seemed like she was caught up in something chaotic. She fussed over you, but you quickly brushed her away.

”Ms. Tor,” you cooed, hiding the pain with a calm demeanour, “I’m done for the day. Let’s go back.”

On the way out, you gave a signal of reassurance towards Hina, who looked worried while her right fingers were tapping on her left knuckles. You saw Mei smirking at you, offering no words to you. You gave her no satisfaction of seeing you in pain as you smiled back.

You knew that everyone had seen you fall on the runway, but that didn’t disturb you.

Your phone pinged with a notification. As you read the message in the car, you turned to Ms. Tornado on the driver’s seat. She understood your signal.

”Usual place?” she asked.

Unable to hide your excitement, you quickly nodded.

No further questions asked as she drove towards the city border, bringing you to one special spot you had practically owned with that one person. In fact, you’re sure that he had bought ownership over the whole area. Your smile grew wider as you spotted the person waiting on a camping chair with an empty one next to it, a campfire lit up.

You sneaked up from behind, forgetting the pain in your legs as you broke into a run, almost causing the person to tumble forward as you hugged him from behind.

”Kenji!” You exclaimed, your character a total 180 degrees from whatever you put on when you were ‘the supermodel who revived the fashion scene’.

With him, you allowed yourself to be comfortable; no pretense of having to check your posture, controlling your expressions or giving off a cold demeanour. With him, you were just Y/N, the girl who preferred to be nested in your home, finishing your time up by watching your same favourite shows over and over again.

Kind of ironic how you considered yourself an introvert yet landed a job that essentially thrusted you into the spotlight.

Kenji exclaimed your name back in the same energy you gave him, hugging your arms as he planted a kiss on the back of your hand. He stood up and dear God, you love this man so much. One of your features that contributed to your modelling career was your height, but you loved the fact that even then, he towered over you.

Ken Sato, the name that had revived Japan’s baseball team, who had acquired a celebrity status after essentially becoming the saviour.

Ken Sato, the man who had kept the audience on the edge of their seats as he scored yet another point in the game.

Ken Sato, the one man who had essentially saved your life while unironically revealing his one kept secret to you.

And Ken Sato, your boyfriend.

Though both of your relationships had to be kept under the radar due to your statuses, you were content with what you’re having now.

Who cares if people think you’re too ‘cold’ and that’s why no one wants you? A small smile played on your lips as you thought, Well, Ken Sato does.

How both of you met was bizarre, to say the least. You were out eating dinner alone, under the disguise that you always wore when you’re just a ‘normal’ citizen, when the ground shook. You were sure that there was a monster attack somewhere, but you were calmly eating dinner when the restaurant’s roof got lifted up.

Ultraman’s giant figure was punching the monster, and you were left gaping at the sudden loss of roof above your head. You quickly finished up your dinner, and when you were about to walk back to your condo, you saw the one thing that you were sure you shouldn’t.

You saw Ultraman shifting back into a human-sized figure and lo and behold, it was Ken Sato. Before, you never bothered to dig deeper into his life because you figured out that you would never be affiliated with the baseball scene. You knew he was famous and that was it.

You couldn’t believe your eyes so you gasped, but your hand wasn’t quick enough to muffle the sound until he turned back to look at you. Both were stone statues for a good minute before he finally spoke up at that time, “Um… can you keep… uh the… secret?”

You sure as hell did keep the secret that even after a drunken stupor, a one night stand then turned into a secret relationship with him, it was still safe with you.

You were so comfortable with him up to the point that it was nice to be yourself with him.

”What’s wrong, baby?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, bringing you back to the present. You inhaled his scent as you buried your face in his chest. “You’re thinking of something?”

You shook your head, tightening your grip around his waist. “Nah,” you mumbled. “Just thinking about the time we first met.”

He chuckled as he ruffled your hair. “I’m sure you did great in your show just now, hmm?”

You stayed quiet, debating or not whether you’d like to tell him what actually happened. He most likely hadn’t seen the show yet, but sooner or later he’d find out. It’s just a matter of now or later.

You were in your comfortable clothes; baggy t-shirt with cargo pants and hair tucked underneath a beanie. In public, people would usually leave you alone when you’re in this attire. Today though, the long pants were also an attempt for you to cover up the growing bruise.

You decided to keep quiet about the bruise, figuring later that he would find out and by then, you hoped it wouldn’t look as bad as it was now. You detached yourself from his hug, careful to not make it so obvious that you were limping. You took a seat, beckoning for him to come over.

Ken traced you with his eyes, lips locked before he smiled. He passed by his seat but didn’t settle down. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the sand, facing you. He leaned forward, crossing his arms with each other on your legs and rested his chin on top. He looked up at you, that same boyish smile he had whenever he was with you.

You looked at him, uttering, “Looks like my boyfriend won yet another game today.” You patted his cheeks, and he quickly grabbed your hands to hold them.

”It was the team, really,” he said humbly, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I was just one of the players.”

”Whatever you say, Mr.-eligible-bachelor-with-thousands-of-adoring-fans-waiting-to-be-picked.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled. “Little do they know,” he drew circles on your palm, “that I’m no longer available.”

He stared at you as you looked into the distance, the crashing of the waves filling in the silence between both of you. He stood up, cocking his head towards the shoreline. “Wanna go for a walk?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the trouble you had with your feet coming once again. You didn’t get a chance to answer as he knelt in front of you with his back towards you.

He gently pulled you on his back, your legs dangling on either side of his body as he piggybacked you. “Okay, let’s go for a walk,” he said, firmly placing his hands under your thighs.

You said nothing, circling your arms around his shoulders, your face buried at the nape of his neck. You loved the fact that you’re always calm around him, something that you’d always need after spending hours in a fast-paced environment for work every day.

As you walked along the shoreline, both of you pointed out stars shaped like objects, and he stopped at one point when you suddenly said, “I love you so much, do you know that?”

He laughed. “What’s with the sudden confession? I love you too, baby.” He gave your thigh a light slap. “And I’m glad to call you mine.”

”It’s time to go back, isn’t it?” You asked, hoping the answer would be no but knew the world would have to end for it to be.

He threw back his head to get a look of your face before uttering, “Sorry. I have a game tomorrow.”

You pouted slightly but knew that the circumstances wouldn’t change. Whether you’d like it or not, even though you didn’t mind your relationship was playing this way, both of you had your individual lives that didn’t intersect with each other.

Dates would always be a secret with limited areas you could go to, and you had to make sure you’re not seen within the vicinity of each other. If both of you needed to go to each other’s house, it felt more like you’re on an undercover mission.

Today, though, with you still on his back, he held onto you firmly and made his way back to his bike parked nearby some bushes.

”Kenji-“ you started, figuring that maybe he forgot that both of you were supposed to follow separate ways.

”Tell Ms. Tornado you’re staying at my house tonight,” he uttered, placing you on his bike’s seat, taking a helmet and helping you to put it on. “You’re sleeping at my house today.” He checked his watch. “I know that you don’t have any work scheduled for the next few days, right?”

You shook your head slowly, secretly happy that he actually kept track of your schedule. Your eyes searched for his from behind the visor, and you blinked slowly as he tapped your helmet.

“Stay at my house until you’re fully healed. Mina can take care of you.” He’s referring to the supercomputer his parents had programmed. He wore his helmet and leaned forward. If not for both of your helmets in place, he’d be resting his forehead against yours. “Of course, you’re welcome to continue staying until…” he winked, “whenever.”

He positioned himself in front of you, powering up his bike. You leaned forward, circling your arms around his waist.

Before your voice got swallowed by the roar of his bike, you said, “You knew I was hurt.”

Underneath his helmet he smiled. “I always do, baby. Always.”

***

One of the reasons you didn’t want to stay at his house for too long was because you knew you’d be too comfortable. It seemed that after the fiasco you ran into with Mei, Ms. Tornado told you that she was suspended from any work and your agency gave you time off.

So here you were, warm mug of coffee in hand, cross-legged on Ken’s sofa while wearing one of his hoodies. So far from your side, your manager was the only person who’d known about your secret relationship with the baseball player. You’re grateful that your agency was not the type to pry into your private life, so long it didn’t affect your work.

You made yourself right at home at Ken’s house. You could say that you became best friends with Mina, with her occasionally sharing stories about how Ken was when growing up and you helping her around the house.

You sunk in the plush sofa, watching a live show of another one of Ken’s games. You saw him turn to the camera, winked and did a secret sign that was directed at you. Seeing how he’s so expressive, you wondered whether Ken actually wanted your relationship to be public.

Even then, you wondered whether anyone actually noticed that Ken started doing the same pose to the camera whenever he scored a point, after he got into the relationship with you. Maybe the secrecy of your relationship was just held back by a single click to post on the Net.

As far as you knew, only five were aware of this relationship; both of you, your manager, Mina and Kenji’s father.

Rather than your own reputation, you’re worried more for Ken’s image. He just moved here from America, carrying the expectations of everyone who had set their eyes upon him. He rose to fame real quick, while you’d already established your foundation right in your hometown as you were raised through a family generation of models.

Night was approaching, and you did catch a message from Ken updating you that he would be joining the group dinner to celebrate their win first. He promised to come back as soon as the dinner was finished. While waiting for him, you caught Mina’s red bar from the corner of your eyes and you smiled at her.

“Y/N, Ken had actually asked me to ask you one important question.”

“Sure, what is it, Mina?”

Immediately, Mina displayed a projection showing a website of a furniture store. She changed the page to the ‘bed frames’ category.

“I was told that the bed broke last night. Ken told me this morning to ask you which ones would you prefer,” Mina said without any hint of emotion. “He didn’t want to disturb you while you’re sleeping this morning.” After remembering another point she added, “He said make sure to pick the strong ones.”

You, on the other hand, were already burying your face in your hand as your cheeks reddened. “Oh my God,” you groaned. He could go one day, one day, without making you blush. It didn’t help that Mina was delivering the message so robotically. Well, she was one, but you get the point. “Mina, can we talk about this… some other time? Don’t worry,” you pressed your lips into a thin line as you remembered how exactly the bed broke last night. “I’ll tell Ken that you delivered the message well.”

Mina backed up, doing her gesture akin to a nod. “Sure, Y/N.”

You turned your head towards the front door when you heard the door opening, and you stalked your way to your boyfriend, who was holding his jacket in his left hand. Your face fell when you saw that he was wincing, the skin near his eye bruised and his right hand gently pressing over the injury.

“What happened to you?” You fussed over him, requesting Mina to take a bucket of ice and a cloth. “Who did this?”

He winced once again, but grinned soon after. He threw his jacket on the sofa and grabbed your waist, kissing you, hard. It was like he was releasing whatever pent up frustrations he had the whole day, drunk in your kiss that you felt out of breath as soon as he let go.

You saw Mina hovering nearby, clearly not wanting to disturb both of you. You cleared your throat and Ken ran a hand through his hair.

Mina set down the requested bowl of ice and cloth, but Ken shook his head.

Ken uttered, “Mina, can you please bring a bucket of ice to the bathroom? I’d like to soak myself in the tub.”

“Sure, Ken.”

“Ken, you need to tell me what happened to you. You’re injured, for God’s sake!” Your eyebrows knitted in worry, but your boyfriend was displaying the opposite as he was happily dragging you along to the bathroom.

He only gave you a peck on your forehead as Mina helped to prepare the bath.

You wouldn’t let your eyes off his injuries, assessing how badly he was hurt. As Mina excused herself to leave both of you in the bathroom alone, he stripped and stepped into the tub. The water sloshed around as he settled down, and you gritted your teeth as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He lifted up his eyebrows, clearly teasing you. “Care to join me?”

You sighed, clearly dissatisfied at how he’s acting while not disclosing about what had happened to him until he returned with a black eye. You crossed your arms, not wanting to submit to his pleading eyes, not until he told you what happened.

Clearly, you were not strong against this man because now both of you were stark naked in the cold water, Ken hugging you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Now tell me what happened.”

Ken obliged. “So we went for a celebratory dinner at this one grilled meat restaurant.” He buried his face at the nape of your neck. “There was this one group of guys who clearly were too drunk. One of them,” you felt his arms tightening around your waist. “Was making inappropriate comments about your body. My girlfriend. Of course I got pissed and punched him. It was an easy fight, but I was unlucky to get this one hit. I won, of course.”

The knot in your stomach got undone, that heavy feeling finally lifting off as you laughed, relieved. You leaned backwards, muttering, “Oh, Kenji. My idiot Kenji. I really thought you had an encounter with a hater, someone that wasn’t afraid to punch you in public just because they hate you. I was so worried. But didn’t your teammates suspect anything? For you to react that way when they’re talking about me.”

“Even if they do find out, it doesn’t matter. Anyone who speaks like that about you deserves to be punched, baby.” The water sloshed around as he turned you around so that both of you were facing each other. He rubbed a thumb over your lips, his mouth lifting at the corners. “And guess what?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“I got a personal invitation from one of the biggest sports brands here. They’re inviting me for an official photo shoot for their new attire collection.”

“That’s amazing, Kenji!” you exclaimed, and he shook his head, a smile plastered on his face.

“And you know what’s the best part? It’ll be a duo photo shoot, a collab with one of Japan’s famous models.”

“A man?” you asked, still clueless.

“A woman.” He grinned, “With my woman.”

“Oh!” You slapped a hand to your forehead, not believing that you hadn’t caught on when your manager had told you that you would be having an upcoming photo shoot with one of the most famous athletes. No wonder Ms. Tornado looked all smiley when she was delivering the news.

“They were surprised when I agreed to it without much questions,” he said. “Said yes as soon as I heard your name.”

***

Your leg was all healed, Ken’s bruise subsided, and it was finally the day of the photo shoot. Obviously, both of you had to come from a different place and at a different time to avoid any suspicion, so the night before you had returned to your house, despite Ken showing you his puppy eyes to make you stay.

You left without looking back, having to reassure him that both of you would see each other tomorrow.

The day came. In the makeup room, both of you had your lips locked, only a slight nod of greeting when he first came in before you returned your attention back to the mirror in front.

God knew how much Ken Sato was holding back from pulling you into a hug as soon as he saw you in the room.

You saw him from the corner of your eyes, his eyes closed as he let the brushes and artist do their work. You smiled, your mind thinking about how Hina would most likely go crazy once she heard that you had landed a job with this famous baseball player. You figured that you’d let her find out by herself once the official photo shoot had come out.

In the studio, both of you exchanged a formal greeting before the photo shoot started, and you could see that Ken was trying to hide from forming a smile on his face. As the camera started clicking and poses were thrown, you could hear the photographer yelling out encouragement, including ‘Don’t be shy with each other’ and ‘Stand closer’.

You heard Ken slightly snicker, and he whispered to you subtly, his lips slightly brushing your earlobe. You shivered, and he was smart enough to not let anyone see what he was doing. “If only they know how close we are.”

“Last set!” The photographer announced. “This time around, I’d like to see some contact with each other. No looking like you’re two magnets repelling each other, but attracting each other instead.”

“Oh I can do that,” Ken said smugly as he followed the photographer’s instructions.

Funnily enough, he was the one looking like he had more experience in modelling as he followed the photographer’s instructions to a T, while you felt more like a deflated balloon guided by your boyfriend.

You promised you were a professional model, but with him, well, you faltered and posed like you’re a novice instead. Still, you managed to pull through the photo shoot as the photographer gave a thumbs up, fully satisfied with the session today.

You took some time to relax after the photo shoot alone in the dressing room. As you were leaning against the chair, your head turned to look at the door that just opened.

Ken’s head popped up through the space and he waved his hand. “Hey,” he whispered. He looked over his shoulder before slipping into the room, locking the door behind him.

“Ken Sato,” you said, more of a warning. “What if someone sees you coming in?”

“It’s fine,” he walked over to you, and lifted you up in a hug.

Naturally, your legs coiled around him as he firmly placed his arms around you.

“I wanted to say goodbye in person before I leave for my game this evening. You’ll watch the game live, right?”

“Of course, I’ll be there.”

You practically jumped away from him as a knock came on the door and panicked, you opened the closet door before shoving him inside. You shut the closet tight, catching his eyes trailing your movement through the bars before putting a finger over your lips to signal silence. Steadying your breath, you opened the door to find the photographer standing outside.

“Oh hey, uh…” you trailed off as you realised that you didn’t know the camera man’s name.

“I’m Yuichiro,” he extended his hand to offer a handshake, but you politely declined with a nod of your head. “It’s uh,” he nervously chuckled. “I thought that you looked great and I found out that we’re the same age. I was wondering if you would like to, you know, go have coffee sometime. As in, uh, I’d like to take you out sometime.”

“Oh, really?” You swore you could feel Kenji’s stare digging through the man’s skull as you stole a glance towards the closet behind you. “That’s too bad because I uh,” You silently prayed that Ken wouldn’t suddenly spring out of the closet. “I am too busy. I don’t even have time to drink coffee myself.” You gave a professional smile, hoping that the man would take the hint and walk away.

“Not even coffee?”

“Not even coffee.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t drink coffee, actually.”

“Oh.” He looked surprised. “But I thought I saw you drinking coffee this morning at the set.”

You shook your head, pretending to be disappointed. “I’m afraid you are hallucinating, my friend. I don’t drink coffee. Anyway,” you clapped your hand, “I need to get ready to go to my next destination for another photo shoot, so if you could please leave?”

He looked disappointed as he nodded. “I mean, yeah. Please go on your way. Sorry to take your time.”

You smiled politely but as soon as you closed the door and locked it, you jumped over to the closet, the door creaking as you pried it open. You saw Ken sitting on the floor, elbows resting on his knees as his bangs curtained his eyes. You sat down in front of him, moving his bangs out of his vision.

“Kenji…?” you started, trying to gauge his emotions. 

He stayed quiet for a few moments, and you poked his stomach when it seemed like he’s not budging.

“Are you okay?”

He breathed in and out, before looking up. His eyes caught yours, but still you couldn’t read his expressions. “I experienced this new emotion,” he finally said.

You inched forward.

“You’re doing great, baby.” The compliment came out of nowhere that you were slightly taken aback.

“Kenji,” the grin on your face grew wider, “were you jealous?”

He never broke off his stare to you, and you found it so attractive. “I was.” His eyes dropped to your lips. “I was stopping myself from jumping out of the closet and announcing that you’re mine.”

“I am,” you uttered, ruffling his hair. “You better get going. You have a game to win.”

“I sure do.” He stood up and you mirrored his actions. Before he turned to leave, he kissed you on the lips and whispered again as he peppered kisses on your neck. “With this jealousy, let’s just hope the bed won’t break again tonight.”

***

Of course you lied to the photographer to politely decline his advances. Your schedule was free this evening and you had promised Ken you would see his game live. You dressed as inconspicuously as possible, donning on the merchandise jersey they sold to the public.  

Ken had offered you to wear his jersey, but that would practically mean announcing your relationship to the public. Tucking your hair under the cap, putting on fake glasses and looking at yourself in the mirror, you figured how Clark Kent had managed to turn people’s suspicions away from him being the superhero.

Now, you’re just one person among the thousands of show-goers filling up the stadium. You took up your seat, eager to witness the game Ken would be joining. Announcement blared throughout the stadium, signalling that the game was about to start. You heard your boyfriend’s name announced as he stepped onto the field.

Giants’ supporters cheered for him, and you joined in on the hype as you saw him giving his million-dollar smile to the crowd. You waited for the game to start, and truth be told, no matter how many times Ken had explained the rules of the game, anything barely stuck to your brain. Still, you tried your best to support him even though that meant cheering for him blindly whenever the others did.

The crowd went wild again as the Giants scored yet another point.

You got distracted by a notification coming to your phone. You wanted to ignore it, but as you saw Hina’s name as the sender, you had to sit down and open the message. She rarely texts you out of work, so there must have been something out of the ordinary. You felt your heart drop as you read the message, and a link towards a news website was sent together.

Your eyes caught her message first. Oh my God?! You’ve been dating Ken Sato?

You read the headline next. BREAKING NEWS: BASEBALL PLAYER KEN SATO AND SUPERMODEL Y/N IN A RELATIONSHIP?

You stood up together with the rest of the cheering crowd, but you had to wrestle your way through to make your way out of the stadium. You didn’t know what to do, Kenji was still in game and your feet almost gave way as your shaky hands opened the link to read the news.

Everything was summed up in one news article, and you felt your world getting smaller as you saw the pictures of the night Ken had piggybacked you after you hurt your leg, all obviously looking like they were taken in secret. You read through the whole article, your ears deafened by the sound of roaring cheers inside the stadium.

You were standing outside the stadium, and you looked back at the giant screen you could see displaying yet another shot of Ken doing his signature pose to the camera. You turned back to the news article in your hands, and read through the whole thing over and over again. Several lines caught your eyes, and you finally caught on who was behind this.

Photographer Yuichiro handed over the pictures of the two lovebirds having a secret date at the private beach, which was purportedly owned by Ken Sato. From the pictures taken, I’m sure everyone would come to one very obvious conclusion. The question is; do you find the relationship surprising, or are they a perfect match for each other?

You wondered if it was all planned by him; the photo shoot together with Ken. Was he testing to see whether you’d accept a date with him to assume whether you’d have a boyfriend or not?

You wanted to run away. But from what, exactly? Running away wouldn’t solve this problem.

Well, if it turned into a problem.

Cheers erupted again as you returned to the stadium, just in time to see the final score and then celebrating the Giants’ victory. Chanting swimmed through the crowd, and you gripped your phone tightly as you searched for Ken among the players.

You finally spotted him at the bench, and your mind was as equally noisy as the audience around you.

He looked in your direction, trying to search for you but before he could catch your eyes, his shoulder was tapped by a fellow teammate, showing him an article displayed on the screen.

Everything happened fast, you didn’t know that it was possible as your worst fear came to life in front of everyone. The giant screen in the stadium displayed the news article and the pictures of the both of you displayed in a slideshow. You could hear shouts of confusion and gasps among the crowd as all of them were looking at the same thing.

The noise of the crowd died down as Ken made his way to the edge of the field, where an interviewer was waiting to start the session. The topic of the interview was supposed to be about the win at first, but it had clearly turned into a different direction.

The camera focused on Ken, and you knew he was directly looking at you. He looked calm, the practised smile he had on whenever he appeared on screen.

“Ken Sato,” the interviewer started, as he looked into the camera, “The name that is no longer a stranger to every household. His return to Japan brought waves and hope to the Giants. But today,” she turned to him, “it seemed like you’re the focus on the interview for an entirely different topic. Who knew that this eligible bachelor was actually already taken? I have the man here with me, so, what would you like to say?”

The crowd was obediently silent as they waited for his answer. You felt your heart beating loud in your chest as you, too, anticipated what he would say.

For a split second your mind wondered whether he would vehemently deny the news, but you brushed that thought away. You trusted him.

“I do have a question for everyone here, first, though.” Ken swept his vision across the crowd. “Is it a sin for a celebrity, or at least someone who is quite well known by the public, I mean,” he shrugged, “I don’t wanna sound like I’m boasting or that I’m too full of myself thinking that I’m famous.”

There was a ripple of laughter through the whole crowd.

“Is it wrong for me to be in a relationship?”

Silence. A dread coming over you as you quietly anticipated that there might be protests coming from the crowd. No one spoke up until you heard a female shouting from the crowd, “No, it’s not a sin! Well, we would be slightly sad that our favourite bachelor is no longer available, but you’re still human!”

Your eyes travelled to the female shouting, and realised why the voice was so familiar. It was Hina. She saw you looking at her and she grinned, giving a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, random woman from the crowd,” Ken uttered. He turned back to the camera. “I think that answered the question. I’m still human,” he shrugged, his eyebrows lifting up as he announced, “and I fell in love with Y/N. We are happily in a relationship. I’m proud to say that she’s mine.” His eyes finally fall towards your direction. You could only discern his expressions and gestures from the big screen because he was too far from you. “I love you, Y/N.”

There was a momentary moment of silence that you could hear a pin dropping, and you feared that maybe, the public wouldn’t take it so nicely.

But soon, the whole stadium shook with cheers from the crowd. This time around, they were chanting both Ken's and your names.

Okay, so this was not the reaction that you had expected.

You saw Ken gesturing to you, asking to meet you privately after the game. You nodded, pointing to your phone to say that you would communicate through text.

He sent you a message for the meetup point, and you practically ran towards where he had wanted to meet you.

You saw him at the end of the empty hallway, the noise in the stadium a distant sound now that it was only the two of you. You ran into his arms and he caught you, laughing. You let your breath steady first before saying anything.

“Ken Sato… you…” you started. “You have this way of wording things. I never expected the whole crowd to just agree with you.”

“Hey, look at me.” He tilted your chin, and he gazed upon you. “Like I said, we’re still humans.” He kissed your lips. “And I fell in love with you.”

“Hmm…” You hummed, still feeling slightly worried.

Ken opened the article, scrolled down to the comments and showed them to you. “See, they’re all positive comments.” He cleared his throat, doing his best imitation while reading the comments. “Oh my God, they’re a perfect match for each other! I knew they were dating, it would be weird if they didn't date. Honestly, I don’t know how it happened, but I’m happy for them. Y/N, you’d be better off with me-” He stopped reading when he read one comment that irked him. “You know what, I’m going to report that last comment.”

You burst into laughter seeing how he was tapping furiously at the screen, blowing out an air of satisfaction as he finally reported the comment.

“There, problem solved,” he announced.

“You know that probably some time in the future that there will probably be people who won’t be satisfied.” You sniffed.

“Well that’s too bad.” He bumped his forehead against yours. “Because you’re already mine.”

[coco-loco-nut]

Father’s Day

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: max is dating an international star

a/n: i literally had this idea last night and had to write a short blurb, i promise i am writing other stuff tho 🫶

masterlist

————————

y/username happy father’s day, daddy. i love you and your big…

maxverstappen1 anything to share with me?

y/username not pregnant, just letting everyone know how turned on you get me

maxverstappen1 love you too, schat

user12 anyone else not getting it, like she is so hot and he is 😬

y/username you know that one barbie scene with the rock? that’s my maxie. also if you think he’s ugly, that’s fine, more of him for me 😍

user98 Y/N BARBIE FAN CONFIRMED

y/username priority 1: old barbie movies priority 2: max

user3 ON THE MAIN?

user33 PR monster got her, I really wanna know what she was about to say

recordlabel we don’t… we actually want bleach for our eyes

redbullracing we will share our bleach if you send us demos of her next album 👀

charlesleclerc Go on, finish the sentence, I dare you.

y/username his big heart, ego, ass, trophy case, therapy bill from childhood trauma, i could keep going on but i don’t want to make you feel emasculated

user62 okay, but like how did he bag her?

y/username he has incredible rizz, and look at him🤤

“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you grin as Max lays on you lap, looking up at you with his beautiful blue eyes.

“You aren’t pregnant, Schat,” he laughs, your fingertips gently scratching his scalp.

“We could change that, get some practice in for after the wedding?” you watch his eyes widen as he quickly sits up.

“Practice makes perfect, why don’t we practice now?” Max suggests, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

Your wedding is small, only some close friends and family in attendance. The ceremony takes place in your backyard, no reception beyond a dinner afterwards.

Despite both your respective fame levels, you didn’t want anyone knowing of the marriage. Fans still thought you were dating, so when you got a positive pregnancy test, you were extra careful.

Max was grateful that you had a private recording studio in the house, for when you needed to drop the album. You didn’t mean to choose the surprise drop date to be at the end of your pregnancy, nor Father’s Day, but life worked in funny ways.

“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you softly say, handing the little bundle off to Max.

“This is the best present, he’s beautiful,” Max hold back tears as he holds his son close to his chest.

“I’m not sure if I will be able to top this next year,” you laugh a little, your tiredness making an apparent after a long labor.

“You should take a nap, I’ll be okay with him,” Max runs a hand though your sweaty hair. To him, you’ve never looked more perfect.

“I have one thing to do first,” you yawn, pulling out your phone. Max slides into the hospital bed beside you, you immediately nestle into him, his warmth enveloping you.

instagram

y/username SURPRISE! midnight rain is out now! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it for the past four years. There is so much in my life that happened, so enjoy my journey through heartbreak, love, and growth. I want to quickly thank Max and my team for making this possible 💙

user1 AHHH this is so good, but didn’t she and Max break up? Why is she thanking him?

user3 dude, i think they are married, did you listen to everything else

user4 yeah, she had some songs about marriage, but she hasn’t been at any races since last year

user10 did y’all see the statement saying there won’t be a tour for the album?? crying in the club

user11 Okay, but Robin?? secret child??

maxverstappen1 endlessly proud of you, schatje

user5 we get it bro, she wrote Dress and The Alchemy about you

maxverstappen1 our little robin decided to hatch 💙

danielricciardo So happy for you and Y/n, mate. Big day for the Verstappen family, can’t wait to hold the little guy!

y/username he will love his Uncle Danny

y/username he’s perfect, just like his daddy

redbullracing what a gift for father’s day! sending our gift to you 💙

user42 guys, y/n’s song credits changed…

user21 OMG MAX AND Y/N ARE MARRIED AND THEY HAVE A KID???

[yawnderu]

Mine — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Art by @ave661!

Synopsis: knowing he couldn't provide you with the life you wanted, Simon breaks things off with you. Two years later, you come back to base with a baby that isn't his.

Content: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, established relationships, breeding, erotic lactation, romantic love making, praising. No beta we die like Roach.

Ghost always knew his lifestyle would forever be considered out of the norm. A soldier who risks his life every single mission, a man who has built an entire plethora of enemies in multiple countries should never even bother settling down, yet why does it hurt to bad to see you come back to base with a baby that isn't his? It was his idea to break up— not wanting to destroy your dreams of wanting a family in a gated community, even when you reassured him living together as soldiers wouldn't be an issue at all.

"Say 'hi, Simon'." You tell the baby you're carrying, the tiny thing wearing a bear onesie is looking up at Simon, pure curiosity in her eyes. She simply babbles, short arms reaching out to touch his skull mask. To your surprise and to his heart break, he leans down so your daughter can play with the hard plate of the mask, not worried at all about her breaking it.

"She looks like you." He said with a choked voice, trying his best to sound calm. He doesn't even dare look at you, his gaze focused on the tiny girl you're holding.

"Dada!" She babbles out while touching his mask and Simon's eyes immediately go towards you, soul almost leaving his body in fear of seeing disgust on your face, yet all he sees is a bashful smile adorning your pretty features. He holds in his breath, eyebrows furrowed under the balaclava as he waits for your response.

"Astrid, that's—" You begin and she interrupts, one of her tiny hands barely being able to hold one of his big skull gloved fingers. "Dada!" She insists, louder this time. There's only 3 words the little girl can say including 'Dada', so you're not all that concerned about her seeing him that way.

"Sorry, she—" You get interrupted once again, this time by Simon.

"It's okay." If being delusional and pretending this tiny thing is his daughter helps him deal with the heartbreak making his chest hurt, he doesn't mind. The girl clings to Simon's neck and you lean closer, giving her a questioning look. She never liked being held by anyone but you, often crying whenever friends tried to hold her.

"This might sound strange, but..." His gaze shifted from you to the child, heart melting at the little girl holding onto the neck of his jacket for dear life.

"Can I hold her?" His voice was hoarse, hands almost shaking from all the emotions that hit him at once.

"Of course." Your warm smile reassured him, gently passing him the baby. He supported the back of her head with his hand, easily dwarfing her entire skull, yet being so delicate with his touch you could swear he thinks your daughter is made of glass.

Simon felt light headed as the little girl was slipped into his arms, fitting perfectly in his hands. His eyes lit up when he looked down and saw her soft, chubby fingers wrap around the chain of his dog tags, a small smile forming under the balaclava. He brought her close and cradled her, heart thundering in his chest at holding this lovely girl you created.

"Dada." She pointed at him with her finger, looking back at you as she squeezed his chain with her free hand. You could swear you saw one of his eyebrows lifting in amusement under the mask, the same cocky look you know too well.

"Maybe she wants me to be her daddy." He teased you, cradling the baby delicately in his strong arms, shielding her from any danger. He was instantly smitten the second he saw her, content to have your permission to hold her even after all you both went through.

"Don't be so smug about it, bastard." You playfully roll your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder to give your little girl a kiss on the forehead, her hand holding onto your hair softly the same way you managed to teach her after one too many times of having your hair pulled by the tiny creature.

"Mama." She attempted to pet your hair the same you taught her how to pet a cat, albeit her tiny limbs moved much sloppier and with surprising strength.

"I think it's sweet." He said with a cheeky smirk, the pain in his chest going away more and more the longer he held your daughter. He was secretly hoping to get a reaction out of you after almost two years of not being able to tease you.

"You can tell her no all you want, but if she wants a dada, she's got one." As if to prove his point, he pointed with his eyes to the girl in his arms, the child reaching out towards Ghost with a giggle. His fingers tickled the baby gently, making her laugh even more. You look between Simon and the baby, a fond smile on your lips when you see just how easily they get along, the pupils in his brown eyes fully dilated as he looks down at her.

"Look at her." Ghost spoke softly, one of his skull gloved fingers running down the length of her short hair.

"She looks like an angel." He looked down at the child with nothing short of raw adoration, gaze drifting back to you, taking in the sweet moment of your body leaning against his while you both fawn over the infant. You hesitantly move away from his shoulder after a few seconds and he gives you a questioning side eye.

"I've got a meeting with Price, let me—" You reach out for your baby and he looks down at you, gaze softening.

"I can babysit for you." He offers with a hopeful look in his eyes. How can you deny anything to this man when he's holding your little girl as if he would die for her no questions asked? When those big brown eyes are looking down at you, the moisture in them clear as day? You nod your head, offering a warm smile as you give your baby one last kiss in the cheek, accidentally tickling her and making her giggle even more.

"There's a few baby bottles in the fridge, just run them over hot water for a few seconds until it's warm— but not too warm." He nods his head as you give him instructions on how to take care of the baby, listening intently. He doesn't have the heart to tell you he knows how to take care of a child— he babysat his former nephew many, many times before. He doesn't even realize he dissociated until you gently pat his shoulder, walking to Price's office.

"You and me, yeah?" He asks your baby who simply giggles in return, tiny hands going back to play with the hard plate of his skull mask.

The meeting took much longer than expected, catching up with Price and talking about your possible return to the 141. It isn't until three hours later that you go back to your quarters, heart in your throat when you turn on the lights.

Ghost is laying on your bed, civilian clothes on with a hoodie covering half of his upper face, your baby safely secured on his chest. You don't have the heart to wake them up, instead grabbing your phone and snapping a quick picture, making sure not a single feature of his face is seen for his own safety and privacy.

The change of lighting slowly wakes him up, offering you a tired smile before his eyes close again once he realizes it's just you. You take off your boots and turn off the light, sneaking into bed with your lovely baby and... your ex.

It feels too natural to even think much about it, one of his arms instantly wrapping around your shoulders to bring you closer, head resting on his chest along with the tiny offspring. He drifts off to sleep soundly with his two girls and for the first time in a long time, he's able to get a full night's sleep, not being woken up by his violent nightmares.

Weeks pass as Simon spends more and more time with you, your new contract signed the same day you had a meeting with Price, though he's not putting you on any missions yet until they figure out who will take care of your daughter while you're away. Today Gaz and Soap asked to take her out, claiming they wanted to buy some new clothes for her since she's growing up fast.

"Hey, big guy." You greet Simon, who seems to have relocated to your quarters for whatever reason— the man literally spends his whole time there and you don't even question it anymore, simply assuming he wanted to spend more time with your daughter. You know details here and there about his family, though he was never clear about the full story. You sit down next to him and he nods his head in acknowledgment, too busy looking at his phone.

"Can I buy her this?" He points his phone at you, showing you a website selling pajama pants for babies, the ones he's showing you are grey and have a skull pattern all over. You playfully roll your eyes, nodding your head before laying down next to him, head laying on his chest while you look at his phone, browsing the website together.

"You don't have to buy her things, you know?" You take a few seconds to admire his unmasked features iluminated by his phone—the soft jawline, thin pink lips, high nose and skin around his eyes that always seemed to be tainted with eye black no matter how well he washed it off.

"Telling me what to do, Sargeant?" He teased, raising an eyebrow at you and being an asshole jokingly just to make you laugh. It only earns him a slap on the arm, phone dropping right on his face. He turns his head slowly to look at you and you can recognize the look in his eyes— you try to run away but he holds you down, fingers already tickling your ribs as you laugh and struggle, trying your best to get out of his grasp to no avail.

"Pause." You kick and scream, laughter escaping your lips due to the tickles. As soon as you speak he stops, looking down at you with a tender look in his face. You gasp for air and he takes the chance to look down at your lips, so close, so inviting...

"I saw that." You tease and he jokingly pushes your head into the pillow, laying down next to you with an arm wrapped around your waist. You giggle at the remaining feeling of the tickles before laying back down on your side, hand absent-mindedly tracing patters on his defined, clothed stomach. You don't know when you both started becoming so close again, yet the comfort is always welcome in the turbulent life of a soldier.

"When's that lot coming back?" He looks down at you, longing mixed with curiosity. Truth to be told, he knows the boys will keep your baby safe, but he wants to have her right back where she belongs— in his arms.

"Like... two hours, I think. If they don't find anything too distracting. Don't worry, I made them take a jacket for her in case it gets cold." He would never tell you he was the one to put the baby jacket in the car because they all forgot.

"Good, good." He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought. It's quiet for a few minutes, both of you finding comfort in the silence before he speaks again.

"Are you planning on having another one?" He asks curiously, gaze drifting down towards you, doing his best to hide the longing and hope in his tone.

"Maybe." You keep in simple, eyes staying closed as you trace patterns on the muscles of his stomach, feeling them flex involuntarily at your touch.

"Why? Interested on having a family with me now, Simon?" You tease, an eyebrow raised at him as you finally open your eyes. He seems to be thinking about it for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding.

"Bullshit." You sit up, looking down at him with a mix of confusion and hope.

"S' the truth." He plays it off casually as if he didn't confess being ready to do the same thing that broke both of you off two years ago. He pulls you back down to his chest, fingers gently massaging your scalp. You can hear his heart beat fast, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows the knot in his throat.

You stay quiet, unsure of what to say. It's too much all at once— knowing Simon actually wanted to settle down with you bringing a mix of anxiety and fear to both of you equally. He never had a normal family, and though deep down he was scared of being like his father, he already proved to himself he can be gentle and tender, the same way he is with your daughter.

His hand slowly drifted down from your waist to the curve of your ass, softly squeezing it while looking at you for any signs of hesitation. He finds none, and instead sees you leaning closer and closer until your lips crash, the passion of two lovers who never got over one another present in the kiss.

Clothes are discharged all over the room with no care at all, the quarter walls bouncing off with a mix of your moans and his low groans, a pillow under your hips while he fucked into your cunt, slow and deep thrusts making the tip of his fat cock slam into your willing cervix.

"Gonna look so fucking pretty with my kid." He whispers into your ear, breathy groans leaving his lips as his thrusts slow down, making love to you rather than just fucking you for a quick nut. One of his hands cups your cheek, forcing you to look up at him.

"Tell me. Tell me how pretty you'll be all swollen with my baby." You hesitate and he kisses your lips gently, gaze tender while he looks down at you, thrusts hitting deeper and deeper each time as he waits for you to speak.

"I'll look... so pretty—fuck— with your child." You manage to speak out between whiny moans, the way he's looking at you with pure love and adoration is all you need to confirm he does find you attractive. Truth to be told, it's difficult being confident after glint through something that permanently alters your body, yet he's looking at you like you're even more beautiful than before. In his eyes, you are.

"That's a good girl." He praises, hips rutting faster against yours as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your cunt, the nasty squelching sound every time he goes hits it hard making this even more exciting. He holds himself up with his elbows, large hands cupping your tits while he pops one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it like a starved man finding shelter.

"These tits are gonna be so big too." He murmurs, swallowing the milk coming out of your tits with no hesitation. His hand gets busy with your other nipple, gently pulling and squeezing the sensitive bud, not minding the milk squirting all over. It's too good to be true— your body changing so much to keep your baby healthy and soon enough, it'll change for his baby too.

"So fuckin' perfect, baby." He praises, eyes closing as he focuses on how good your wet walls are wrapping around his unprotected cock, tongue swirling around your nipple before he latches onto it again, drinking the sweet milk coming out.

"This cock's all yours." He lets go of your nipple, face seeking shelter on the crook of your neck as his thrusts get sloppier by the second, embarrassingly nasty words coming out of his lips like prayer. You're the only one allowed to ever see him like this, to have him in any possibly way. He doesn't even care how he's promising you the world, offering all of himself to you without having any doubts.

"Everyone's gonna know you're mine, love." He whispers into your ear, voice hoarse and full emotion, hips stuttering before he buries himself all the way into your cunt, cum splurging out directly into your willing, fertile womb. He keeps himself inside, caging you in with his strong arms into a protective embrace, wanting to make sure not a single drop of cum is wasted.

"All mine."

[colormepurplex2]

Shatter With Me | Please, Let Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, sure, okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not good,” he whispers.

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A boy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right, sure, of course.”

“No problem, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

“Hey, Jiyoon. Do you have a moment?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve talked to him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Having swollen feet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Yeah, sure.”

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

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

“A girl?”

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

A sister.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would.”

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

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

Girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I mean that.”

💔💔💔

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

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

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

“Um, okay. Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jiyoon. Are you serious?”

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

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

“No epidural?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

This has to be a joke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung, hey, wait up a second.”

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

“Can we talk for a minute?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sun’s nice, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you doing that?”

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

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

“Can I ask you something?”

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

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

“What’s going to happen after?”

“After?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“It doesn’t matter. Just drop it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“This is about Jungkook, isn’t it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are we doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like, with you in them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Relax. Act natural, remember?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

He looks through her phone.

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

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

“Is Taehyung here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think something is going on with Jiyoon.”

“Such as?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About?” Taehyung prompts.

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

“A certain manager who is carrying your baby?”

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

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

“Jiyoon didn’t lie, though—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My wife? What are you talking about?”

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

“Umm…okay.”

“Promise me that you’ll listen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to go,” Jungkook says quietly.

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

“Where are you right now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jiyoon is here.

💔💔💔

“Where is he? I know he’s here!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why don’t you tell me yourself?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you’d just let me expla—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“An emotional support hug or a freedom kiss?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait. Really? You’re being serious?”

“As long as you are.”

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

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

“I’ve wanted you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In here,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your lower back bothering you?”

You nod. “Just a bit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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