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colormepurplex2 · 10 months ago

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Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag

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

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Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s, uh…”

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t that right?” he asks.

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

“You’re healthy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, no. You know I don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm? Who?”

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

You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”

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

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

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

“Why? What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he breathes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seems pretty simple, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand.”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, guys.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

💔💔💔

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

“You missed it.”

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

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

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

“She? It could be a boy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, is everything okay?”

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

“I’m on my way!”

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

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

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

“O-okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Yeah.”

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

“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”

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

“Yeah.”

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

“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.

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

“Oh, she’s not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kinda weird, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be great, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is everything okay?”

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

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

“Where have you been?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is not what happened at all!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

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

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

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babyleostuff · 1 year ago

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౨ৎ voicemails yoon jeonghan leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: honey, babe)

...one: i think i left my toothbrush at your place. (pause) and my charger. (pause) and the headphones i bought specifically for this trip

...two: don’t kill me honey, but they had to cut my hair. not much but still. (mumbling) don’t listen to shua i’m not bald i swear. anyway, call me when you wake up! and remember i love you no matter your hairstyle!

...three: i have so much trouble sleeping here, i don’t know why

...four: did you eat breakfast today? you always forget about eating in the morning. oh, and i left some of those cookies you like in the cabinet next to the fridge. shit i forgot to tell you about them and i bought them like (pause) a month ago, i hope they aren't expired

...five: i called you like six times before i remembered it’s like 4 am back home (laughs) i guess i’m starting to miss you

...six: if coups did send you those messages, please ignore them. i did not push him off the stage

...seven: how was your day? did you do anything exciting? i miss your voice

...eight: it’s already saturday for you so make sure to get a lot of rest. i'll call you after the concert today if i don't end up falling asleep after. and if the kids don't take me out drinking again. i'll just trick joshua to go

...nine: it sucks sleeping alone

...ten: i think i’m getting old babe, my knees were cracking like crazy today

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys

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inseobts · 3 days ago

Note

If it's not too much to ask but could you please do a story of only one of the Monster trio like Luffy or Zoro or Sanji? (Or the whole straw hat crew) with a reader whose birthday it is on the same day as a holiday like valentine's day (even though we've already went past it, or it could be any other holiday that you think?) But only her best friend (one of the crew members) remembers her birthday and now the others feel bad, so they decide to throw an "apology birthday party" to make up for it?

Apology Birthday Party

zoro x strawhat!reader

a/n: I hope this is what you wantedddd, let me know if you want it different tho (づ￣ 3￣)づ

words count: 1.3k

tags: sfw, romance, soft zoro, nico robin bff

masterlist || ko-fi

The Sunny is draped in pink and red decorations, hearts scattered across the deck like confetti. Sanji is running around serving chocolates and heart-shaped treats, Nami is counting stacks of berries won from lovestruck islanders, and Luffy is eating whatever he can get his hands on.

It’s Valentine’s Day. And it’s also your birthday.

But no one seems to remember that last part.

You don’t say anything, of course. It’s not like you expect them to throw a big celebration or anything, but a simple “Happy Birthday” would have been nice. Yet, with everyone wrapped up in the holiday of love, your special day is completely overlooked.

Well, almost everyone.

“Here” Robin says, appearing beside you with a small, neatly wrapped box in her hands. She smiles, that knowing glint in her eyes as she hands it over “Happy Birthday.”

Your heart warms “Robin…”

“I know how it feels to be forgotten” she says gently “But you’re not.”

You unwrap the gift to find a delicate bookmark pressed with dried blue forget-me-not flowers. It’s beautiful. And, fitting.

Before you can properly thank her, a loud, boisterous laugh fills the air “Oi, Robin, what’s that? Love letter for y/n?” Luffy grins, oblivious as ever. That, of course, draws the attention of the rest of the crew. Sanji practically skids over, hearts in his eyes.

“A love letter?! From who?! I’ll destroy them—”

Robin sighs, sipping her wine “It’s her birthday present.”

Silence.

Utter, dead silence.

The entire crew stares at you, then at Robin, then back at you again. The color drains from Sanji’s face. Franky’s jaw quite literally drops. Usopp nearly chokes on his own spit. Nami’s eyes widen, and Chopper gasps in horror. Even Luffy, who usually doesn’t have a care in the world, looks like someone just told him there’s no more meat on the ship.

But the worst reaction? Zoro’s.

His eye snap to yours, and you see something flicker behind them, something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

“Wait,” Usopp wheezes, gripping his head like it physically hurts “Today’s your birthday? Like, right now?”

“…Yeah.”

A chorus of expletives follows.

“We’re horrible!” Chopper wails, flopping dramatically onto the deck.

“How could I forget such an important day?!” Sanji cries, dropping to his knees like he’s been personally betrayed.

Robin chuckles into her drink “At least you all realized it before the day ended.”

That kicks everyone into action. Nami immediately starts planning an emergency “Apology Birthday Party” barking orders while Franky dashes off to set up decorations. Luffy insists on getting you the biggest cake possible, while Sanji declares he will cook a full birthday feast worthy of redemption. Usopp starts crafting a birthday gift at lightning speed, while Chopper is still crying about how bad of a friend he is.

In the middle of all the chaos, you catch Zoro watching you. His arms are crossed, his expression unreadable, but there’s tension in his stance. And then, without a word, he turns and disappears below deck.

You don’t see him for the next hour.

By the time he returns, the impromptu party is already in full swing. The crew has somehow managed to pull together a spectacular celebration, with streamers, food, and a birthday banner that is only slightly lopsided. You’re seated at the center, laughing as Luffy shoves an unreasonable amount of cake into his mouth.

Then Zoro drops something onto the table in front of you.

You blink. It’s a small box, wrapped haphazardly, almost like he struggled with it. When you glance up at him, his face is turned away, slightly pink at the tips of his ears.

“Tch. Don’t make a big deal out of it” he mutters, arms crossed.

Curious, you open it and your breath catches.

It’s a charm. A small, silver sword pendant attached to a simple chain. The craftsmanship is rough, but undeniably his.

“…Did you make this?”

Zoro shrugs, still not looking at you “Had some spare materials lying around.”

Your fingers curl around the charm, warmth blooming in your chest “I love it.”

“…Good.” His voice is gruff, but you catch the corner of his lips twitching, just slightly.

The rest of the crew watches with barely concealed interest “Oi, oi, does this mean Zoro is getting all romantic now?” Usopp teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

Zoro immediately glares, hand twitching toward his swords “Say that again and you won’t live to see tomorrow.”

The laughter that follows is the best sound you’ve heard all day.

Maybe your birthday started off forgotten, but as you sit among your chaotic, wonderful crew, a handmade gift resting in your palm, you can’t help but think this turned out to be the best one yet.

The party goes on for hours. Sanji serves an extravagant feast, each dish crafted with your favorites in mind. Luffy challenges you to an eating contest, one you gracefully decline, knowing it’s a lost cause. Nami surprises you with a beautiful set of earrings, and Usopp proudly presents a handcrafted figurine of you in an exaggerated heroic pose.

Franky insists on a dance party, much to your amusement, and even Robin joins in. Chopper, still sniffling, clings to you, vowing to never forget your birthday again.

Through it all, Zoro remains close, never one for loud festivities, but always within reach. Eventually, when the night winds down, you find him on the ship’s upper deck, gazing at the stars.

“Thanks for the necklace” you say, leaning beside him.

He grunts, but doesn’t move away “Yeah.”

A comfortable silence settles between you. The ocean breeze is cool, but standing next to him, you feel warm.

After a moment, he exhales “…Sorry for forgetting.”

You glance at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. Smiling, you shake your head “You made up for it.”

He finally looks at you then, and in the soft moonlight, his expression is softer than usual “Good.”

Zoro stays silent for a while, avoiding your gaze, and then adds, "Actually... I had prepared it for Valentine's Day."

For a moment, you remain impassive, smiling at the sea in front of you, but then your brain connects what he said.

You suddenly turn to him and gasp, "Wait, wh...what do you mean?"

He continues to avoid your gaze, trying to look indifferent, but the redness in his ears betrays him "I admit I forgot your birthday, but I didn’t forget Valentine's Day" he says.

You, even more flustered, reply "So it’s true what Luffy told me earlier, that you worked on the necklace for more than a week??"

Zoro shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. He looks away, clearly embarrassed but trying to act nonchalant "I... I just wanted it to be perfect" he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blink, still processing the confession. It’s hard to believe this is the same person who usually brushes off any sort of emotional display "Zoro," you start, your voice soft, "You really made all of that... for me?"

He finally looks at you, and for the first time, his usual tough exterior seems to crack. His eyes are slightly hesitant, but there's a genuine warmth there, almost like he’s afraid of your reaction "Yeah, I did. It’s... not much, but I thought you’d like it."

You take a deep breath, your heart racing as everything sinks in. You can’t help but smile "I love it," you say, stepping a little closer "And I... I love that you cared enough to do this."

Zoro looks almost startled by your words, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. He clears his throat awkwardly "Well, don’t go getting any ideas... It's not like I’m suddenly a romantic or something."

You laugh, the sound light and genuine "I never said you were. But this is pretty damn romantic, Zoro."

He grumbles but there's a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth "Don’t get used to it."

You both stand there for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling the space between you. It’s not the most conventional confession, but somehow, in that moment, it feels just right.

And just like that, your birthday, and even Valentine's day, is perfect.

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glowettee · 14 days ago

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the feminine urge to be that student effortlessly ✧˖°

there’s something undeniably magnetic about that student. the one who always has her life together; notes perfectly highlighted, grades effortlessly high, coffee in one hand, an annotated novel in the other. she’s the girl who glides through hallways with a quiet confidence, always prepared, always composed, always one step ahead. but the truth is… she doesn’t just wake up like this. she became her.

if you’ve ever looked at an aesthetic studyblr post and thought, i wish that were me, it already can be. being that student isn’t about obsessing over perfection, it’s about creating systems that make success effortless. and when you master that? discipline doesn’t feel like a struggle. it feels natural.

being that student sometimes is subjective, so take this post with a grain of salt, don't change yourself, but become the better version of yourself. this post is to give you some tips that i personally use to become "that student". academics is so important to me, and it always has been. i've always shoot for the highest, and honestly? even though i sometimes feel like "i hate studying" or "i don't want to go to school". i never succumb to it, i have a gravitation towards studying, and good grades. academics is not just about grades, but learning skills to improve your life, your career, relationships and don't forget, your brain! so please try to see school and academics as improving yourself, not just about using grades to define who you are. - mindy

☁️ how to become that student effortlessly:

✧ romanticize your study sessions – make your desk a space you want to be in. light a candle. play soft classical music. use a pen that glides smoothly. let studying feel like self-care, not a chore. pretend your rory gilmore, or even paris geller.

✧ develop signature study rituals – always start with a cup of tea/coffee/matcha/ANY DRINK, a five-minute review, or a fresh page in your notebook. habits make it easier to start, and starting is half the battle.

✧ master ‘bare minimum’ studying – not every study session has to be two hours long. learn how to get the most out of 10-15 minutes. review flashcards while waiting for your coffee, summarize a chapter in the notes app before bed, listen to an audiobook while getting ready.

✧ have a ‘default’ study outfit – cozy but polished. a chunky sweater, soft leggings, blue-light glasses, a sleek ponytail. when you dress like the kind of student you admire, you become her.

✧ use strategic aesthetic motivation – pinterest boards, beautifully organized notion pages, a soft academia playlist, these are not distractions, they’re tools. use them. let the aesthetic inspire action, not replace it.

✧ learn in layers – don’t cram. absorb knowledge naturally throughout the day. read your notes over breakfast. explain concepts in the shower. let studying weave into your routine like second nature.

✧ stop glorifying stress – good students don’t burn out. they rest, recharge, and protect their mental clarity. discipline is not exhaustion, it's balance.

☁️ mindy’s personal tips for being effortlessly studious:

✧ “the 2-minute review” – every night, spend two minutes looking over what you learned that day. your brain loves repetition. what feels hard today will feel effortless in a week.

✧ “the open book trick” – leave your study materials open on your desk, bed, or counter. you’re 10x more likely to glance at them if they’re already in front of you.

✧ “library aura” – if you struggle with focus, go to a place that forces you to be productive. a coffee shop, a library, even just a quiet corner of your room with your phone in another area. change your environment to change your mindset. i personally love studying during eating brunch and drinking frappes with my friends at starbucks <3

✧ “study like a writer” – instead of just passively reading notes, rewrite them in your own words. like you're explaining them in a diary or a letter. it makes the information stick. tip: one study method i loved using when i took ap art history, was writing an essay on each individual artwork, even if it was just 200 words long, i was able to write it in my words, it's another method based on active recall. it helped me so much, and i ended up getting a 5 on the ap exam thanks to this amazing method <3

✧ “live like a student you admire” – every day, ask yourself: what would the best version of me do? would she scroll mindlessly for an hour, or would she review her flashcards? would she procrastinate, or would she get started now? act accordingly.

☁️ the truth? being that student isn’t about talent. it’s about mindset. show up for yourself. build effortless habits. make learning part of who you are. and soon enough? you won’t just look like that student. you’ll be her.

xoxo mindy

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mistyshane30 · 16 days ago

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You Were Never Mine to Lose (Chapter 5)

Synopsis: A beach day turns into playful chaos—volleyball, sun-kissed laughter, and unexpected moments that leave you more breathless than the game itself. But as the night falls over Malibu, you can’t shake the feeling that something about today feels different.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: Mild sexual tension, Unresolved emotions, Mentions of alcohol consumption, Mild language, Physical injury

Another day in Malibu.

You wake up earlier than expected, the dull throb of a hangover making its presence known behind your eyes. With a groan, you bury your face into the pillow, regretting those extra drinks from last night. The taste of alcohol lingers faintly, and your body feels sluggish. Still, despite the headache, there’s a small silver lining—you and Agatha are finally on good terms again. The tension that had loomed over the past couple of days seems to have lifted, if only slightly.

After mustering enough willpower to leave the comfort of your bed, you go through your usual morning routine—splashing cold water on your face, brushing your teeth, and throwing on something light while heading down for breakfast. The smell of coffee helps, though your appetite isn’t quite there yet. You settle for something small and hydrating, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as you eat.

As you scroll through your phone, a notification from the group chat grabs your attention.

Coven Group Chat

Jen: "Since our beach day didn’t happen the other day, it’s happening THIS morning. No excuses."

You take a sip of your drink, already knowing where this is going. Before you can type a response, another message pops up.

Jen: "Also, two-piece bikinis ONLY. It’s for the photos. No cover-ups during the shoot, ladies 😘."

Your eyebrows shoot up. Again?

The reactions roll in almost immediately.

Alice: "Excuse me, dictatorship much? What if I wanna wear a T-shirt and shorts like a respectable citizen?"

Lilia: "I have a one-piece, does that count???"

Wanda: "Ugh, fine. But if anyone forces me to take off my sarong, I’m leaving the country."

Jen: "Wanda, we both know you have a whole collection of bikinis that you pretend not to own. Just wear one."

Wanda: "Blocked."

You chuckle at the ongoing banter, but before you can chime in, another message pops up.

Agatha: "Does anyone have sunscreen? I forgot to bring one."

You smirk, fingers flying across your screen.

You: "Tsk, tsk. Governor Harkness forgetting sunscreen? Tragic. And here I thought you were supposed to be responsible."

Agatha: "Oh, shut up. Just let me borrow some."

You: "Say please. 😌"

Agatha: "No."

You: "Then burn. ☀️🔥"

Agatha: "I hope a seagull steals your sunglasses."

Alice: "LMAOOO not the seagull curse 💀."

Jen: "Enough flirting, you two."

Your eyes widen slightly, and before you can protest, Wanda adds—

Wanda: "Yeah, just get married already."

You: "HELLO??? BLOCKED. REPORTED. UNSENT."

Agatha: "Literally gagging. You’re all insufferable."

Lilia: "Just admit it, you two are so divorced-coded."

Agatha: "Can’t be divorced if we were never married."

Alice: "Enemies to lovers arc when?"

You groan, deciding to ignore the chat before it gets worse. Jen finally swoops in to wrap things up.

Jen: "ANYWAY. Cabana. One hour. No latecomers."

Before you close the chat, you sigh and type—

You: "Fine, Agatha, I’ll let you borrow mine. But if you don’t return it, I’m suing."

Agatha: "Yeah, yeah. Put it in my tab."

You shake your head with a small smirk.

With that, you set your phone down and stretch, finally dragging yourself toward your luggage. Time to pick out something to wear.

Rummaging through your packed clothes, your eyes land on a deep purple wrap-around string bikini top with matching string bikini bottoms. The color is rich, the design tasteful yet undeniably bold. You hesitate for only a moment before deciding, Screw it. If we’re doing this again, I might as well go all in.

You slip into the bikini, adjusting the ties securely before layering a sheer black kimono over it. The delicate fabric flows with every movement, adding an effortless elegance to the look. To complete the ensemble, you grab your Bvlgari Serpenti BV40009U 33F Gold Sunglasses, a wide-brimmed beach hat for extra sun protection, and a pair of comfortable beach sandals.

Before heading out, you toss a few essentials into your tote bag—your phone, a towel, and, of course, the sunscreen Agatha so carelessly forgot.

With one final glance in the mirror, a smirk tugs at your lips.

You look hotter than the sun.

As you step onto the warm sand, the salty ocean breeze greets you, tousling your hair beneath your wide-brimmed hat. The sun is already climbing higher, casting a golden glow over the beach. Your sunglasses shield your eyes as you scan the shoreline, searching for the group.

Your gaze lands on a cabana near the water, where Jen, Lilia, and Alice lounge comfortably. They’re deep in conversation, laughing about something when Alice suddenly notices you approaching. Her eyes widen as she nudges Jen and Lilia with her elbow.

“Oh. My. God,” Alice gasps dramatically, sitting up straighter. “Would you look at that? Malibu’s about to catch fire.”

Jen turns her head, following Alice’s gaze, and when she sees you, she lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Y/N,” she grins, taking a sip from her coconut drink. “If I wasn’t getting married, I’d smash. No hesitation.”

Lilia laughs, adjusting her sun hat. “Same. I mean, I’m already questioning things.”

You roll your eyes but smirk as you reach them, tossing your tote bag onto a lounge chair. “Wow, what an honor,” you tease, adjusting your sheer black kimono. “Should I be flattered or slightly concerned?”

“Definitely flattered,” Jen winks. “We’re just appreciating the art, babe.”

Alice nods approvingly. “You look hotter than the sun right now. We might have to keep you under the shade before someone faints.”

You chuckle and glance at them. “Oh please, you guys look stunning yourselves,” you say, gesturing to their beach outfits.

Jen twirls her sunglasses between her fingers. “Yeah, yeah, but we’re used to it,” she says playfully. “Now, where’s the rest of the gang? Especially Agatha? I need to see if she actually followed the two-piece dress code.”

Lilia grins. “Or if she’s going full ‘governor mode’ with a whole-ass wetsuit.”

You snicker at the thought and glance toward the resort path, wondering when the two will show up.

You sat on one of the cabana chairs across from Lilia, stretching out your legs as the sun warmed your skin. The soft sound of waves crashing mixed with the faint chatter from nearby beachgoers, creating a relaxing atmosphere. Lilia adjusted her sunhat, sipping on her iced drink before looking over at you with a smirk.

"So... feeling refreshed after last night’s little adventure?" she teased, wiggling her brows.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the amused scoff that left your lips. "If by refreshed you mean mildly hungover, then yeah, sure."

Alice chuckled, leaning back on her chair. "At least you didn’t have to carry Wanda back to the villa. That girl gets way too affectionate when she’s tipsy. I think she tried to marry Jen at some point."

Jen, lounging beside Alice, grinned. "Hey, don’t blame her. I am a catch, after all. But too bad, I’m off the market."

The conversation flowed easily between you, filled with laughter and teasing as you all waited. The cabana provided some shade, but the heat was already creeping in, making you glad you had worn something breezy.

After some time, you heard approaching footsteps behind you. Before you could turn around, a hand lightly touched your shoulder.

"Morning," a familiar voice spoke.

You glanced up, finding Agatha standing beside you, the sun casting a glow over her figure. She was wearing a nautical blue and white floral O-ring swimsuit—a triangle halter top that accentuated her collarbones, high-waist bikini bottoms with sexy cutouts on both sides and a sarong. The effortless confidence she carried made you momentarily forget how to function.

Agatha glanced around before asking, "Where's Wanda?"

Lilia stretched her arms. "No clue. Probably on her way, maybe getting lost in the resort again."

Jen laughed. "Or flirting with the bartender from last night."

As they spoke, your gaze involuntarily traveled back to Agatha, taking in the way the bikini fit her perfectly. You quickly snapped out of it when Agatha turned toward you, arching an eyebrow as if she had caught you staring. Panicking slightly, you averted your gaze and cleared your throat.

"Uh, nice bikini," you muttered, intending to sound casual. Instead, it came out as more of a teasing remark. "Did you finally give up on covering up all the time?"

Agatha smirked, tapping your shoulder. "Don’t get used to it."

Before you could respond, she tilted her head. "By the way, you did bring the sunscreen, right?"

You reached into your tote bag with a smirk, pulling out the sunscreen. "Obviously. Someone has to be responsible."

Agatha shrugged, taking the bottle from you. "Not all of us have our lives together."

Alice snickered. "That��s a first. I thought governors had to be prepared for everything."

"I am," Agatha said, unscrewing the cap. "Just not for the sun apparently."

She walked over to sit beside Alice, squeezing sunscreen onto her palm before rubbing it over her arms, neck, and shoulders. You tried not to watch, but behind your sunglasses, it was impossible not to. Your gaze drifted lower as she smoothed the lotion over her legs, taking her time to make sure she was fully covered.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like the sun got a little hotter.

A few minutes later, Agatha stood and walked back toward you, holding out the bottle. "Here, thanks."

You shook your head. "Keep it. I have another one anyway."

She hesitated for a second before giving you a small nod. "Appreciate it."

With that, she returned to her seat, and you exhaled, willing yourself to think of something—anything—other than how good she looked.

And just like that, the wait for Wanda continued.

After a few more minutes, Wanda finally arrived, slightly out of breath. You smirked, crossing your arms. "Wow, look who decided to join us. Got lost on the way or just fashionably late?"

Wanda huffed, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder. "I have a very valid reason."

Lilia raised a brow. "Oh, this should be good."

"I forgot my sunscreen and had to beg the front desk for one," Wanda admitted with a sheepish grin.

Jen rolled her eyes but waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever, you’re here now. That’s what matters. And since you made it, we can finally get this beach volleyball match going."

Alice gestured toward the net in front of the cabana. "That’s why it’s here. You didn’t think it was just for the aesthetic, did you?"

Wanda groaned. "Do we really have to? What if we just... tan and drink cocktails instead?"

"Nope!" Jen clapped her hands together. "Teams are set. Wanda, Lilia, and Alice versus me, Agatha, and Y/N. Let’s do this!"

With that, everyone stretched, tying their hair up in preparation. Sand shifted underfoot as each team took their respective sides, a competitive glint in their eyes.

Lilia stepped up first, tossing the ball in the air before serving it with a sharp hit over the net. You shifted into position, eyes locked on the ball.

Game on.

The game quickly heated up, each team refusing to back down. The ball flew back and forth over the net, sand kicking up with every swift movement. Sweat glistened under the sun as everyone gave it their all.

At one intense moment, Wanda spiked the ball hard, aiming straight for your team’s side. Agatha leaped up to block it, and at the same time, you lunged forward to do the exact same thing. Neither of you noticed the other’s movement until it was too late.

Bodies collided mid-air, and before you knew it, you were tumbling onto the sand. Hard.

You landed on your back with a thud, the impact jarring your head slightly. Agatha, having lost her balance in the chaos, fell right on top of you.

For a moment, everything stilled.

Your eyes snapped shut as you winced, a dull ache forming at the back of your head. The weight pressing down on you wasn’t helping either.

“Hey, are you okay?” Agatha’s voice was close—too close.

You blinked your eyes open, only to find yourself staring directly into hers. The proximity sent a jolt through your system, and for a brief second, neither of you moved. You swore you heard her breath hitch.

Then Jen’s voice cut through the moment. “Damn, that was a fall! You guys alright?”

Agatha blinked rapidly before pushing herself up, standing first. She hesitated for a split second before offering you her hand. You took it, letting her help you up before you both walked back to the cabana to sit down.

The rest of the group quickly followed.

Jen gestured toward Wanda and Alice. “Go grab some ice packs for Y/N’s head.”

They hurried off, returning a few minutes later with an ice pack, which they handed to you. You pressed it against the sore spot, sighing in relief. “Thanks.”

Agatha, sitting beside you, looked more worried than the others. Or maybe you were just imagining it. You had a tendency to overthink things when it came to her.

“You sure it’s not that bad?” she asked, voice quieter now.

You forced a small smile. “It’s bearable. I’ll live.”

The group let out relieved sighs, making sure you weren’t feeling dizzy or nauseous. You reassured them that it was just a bump.

After a few minutes of resting, you stretched and stood up. “I think I could really use some relaxation after that.”

Jen perked up. “Speaking of relaxation—we’re hitting the spa after lunch.”

Excited murmurs spread through the group, and you couldn’t help but grin. Wanda, however, groaned. “Can we eat first? I’m starving.”

Jen chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. But first—group photo for memory’s sake.”

“Oh, come on,” Wanda whined. “Can’t we just take a picture of the food instead?”

Lilia smirked. “Nope. You’re in it, Maximoff. No excuses.”

Alice playfully nudged you. “You better not make a weird face in this one. Last time, you looked like you were mid-sneeze.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one time.”

Agatha adjusted her sunglasses and deadpanned, “And yet, it haunts me to this day.”

Groans and laughs mixed together, but everyone still posed anyway. Even if they wouldn’t admit it, this was a moment they wanted to remember.

Lunch at Nobu Malibu was nothing short of a spectacle—the sun shining down on the ocean, the faint sound of waves in the background, and a table full of laughter, teasing, and incredible food. The best part? You were all still in your bikinis, completely unfazed by the upscale setting.

Agatha sat directly across from you, eating her sushi with a grace that somehow made even a simple act like that look elegant. She sipped her wine slowly, the deep red of the liquid contrasting with the soft pink tint on her lips. You swore you could feel her gaze lingering when you weren’t looking, but every time you glanced up, she seemed entirely focused on her meal. Maybe it was just your imagination. Or maybe that fall during volleyball really did something to your head. Yeah. You probably needed an MRI, ASAP.

Deciding to ignore whatever weird feeling was creeping up inside you, you turned to the group, changing the topic. "So, about that volleyball game… I gotta say, Wanda, that spike was lethal. Almost took my head off."

Wanda smirked, twirling her chopsticks between her fingers. "Hey, all's fair in beach volleyball."

You turned to Alice next. "And Alice, your blocking was insane. It was like trying to get past a damn wall."

Alice grinned, giving a mock bow. "Years of dealing with my annoying brothers. Had to learn defense somehow."

"And Lilia, I don’t know how you kept diving for those saves, but respect," you continued. "You were all over the place."

Lilia flipped her hair dramatically. "What can I say? Some people were born to be effortlessly athletic."

You rolled your eyes before shifting your attention to Jen. "And then there’s our fearless leader, practically coaching us like this was the Olympics."

Jen laughed, raising her glass. "Hey, I take my team sports seriously. Someone had to keep you and Agatha from killing each other."

That earned a round of laughter from the group, and you smirked before turning your attention to Agatha. "Speaking of which—Mrs. Governor over here played like she had a national championship on the line. I swear, even I, her own teammate, was getting taken out in the crossfire."

The table erupted into laughter again, heads shaking in agreement.

Agatha, however, wasn’t one to take a hit without throwing one back. She leaned forward slightly, placing her glass down with an amused smirk. "Not my fault you kept getting in the way," she shot back. "I clearly had the ball if you hadn’t decided to throw yourself into my path like a human obstacle."

You scoffed. "Excuse me? I almost had the ball if you had just let me hit it instead of charging forward when your station was literally behind me." You pointed at her accusingly. "You were supposed to cover my back, not bulldoze into me."

Agatha raised a brow, her smirk widening. "Oh, so now you’re blaming me for your bad positioning?"

Your mouth dropped open as the group "Ooooh’d" in unison. "Bad positioning?! I was right where I was supposed to be! You were the one breaking formation!"

"Formation?" Agatha let out a laugh. "What is this, a military operation?"

The playful bickering continued, both of you leaning into the argument like you were in your own little world. The group watched in amusement as your voices overlapped, neither of you willing to back down. It was just like always—sharp remarks, teasing comebacks, and an underlying tension neither of you were willing to address.

Before the back-and-forth could escalate further, a waiter arrived at the table, placing a beautifully plated dessert in the center. The interruption pulled you both out of the moment, and you took the chance to get one last jab in.

"See? Even the waiter thinks we need to cool off," you teased, sitting back with a smug expression.

Agatha rolled her eyes, choosing not to respond, and instead picked up her wine glass again. But the way she exhaled through her nose—almost like a quiet laugh—didn’t go unnoticed.

The group, of course, wasn’t about to let this go. Jen smirked, shaking her head. "It’s funny how you two were all chummy last night, and now here you are, back to fighting like an old married couple."

Wanda grinned. "Yep. Classic."

You and Agatha both scoffed at the same time. "Please," you both muttered in unison.

That only made the group laugh harder.

Shrugging off their comments, you focused on the dessert in front of you, pretending not to notice the way Agatha’s lips quirked up slightly as she took another sip of her wine.

Yeah. Definitely an MRI.

After lunch, you and the group headed to the exclusive spa that Jen had raved about. Still in your bikinis—because why not?—you followed her inside, immediately greeted by the calming aroma of scented candles. The spacious reception area exuded tranquility, with soft instrumental music playing in the background and a hint of eucalyptus in the air.

Jen approached the receptionist, confirming the reservation while the rest of you took in the serene ambiance.

“This place is fancy as hell,” Wanda murmured, eyeing the luxurious decor.

“Right? I feel relaxed just standing here,” Lilia added, stretching her arms over her head.

The receptionist, a polished-looking woman with a warm smile, gestured for you all to follow her. “Welcome, ladies. We have your private area prepared. Let me show you to the locker room, where you can store your belongings and change into spa robes and sandals.”

She led you through a softly lit hallway to the locker room, where wooden lockers lined the walls, each with a neatly folded plush robe inside. As you placed your belongings inside, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Agatha, who was undoing the knot of her sarong. She caught your gaze briefly, but you quickly looked away, pretending to be focused on tying the sash of your robe.

With everyone changed, the receptionist guided you to your private spa space. As you stepped in, the setting was breathtaking—private cabanas with sheer curtains swayed in the breeze, lounge beds surrounded a tranquil Zen Garden with delicate water features, and a collection of heated massage tables were set up under a shaded pavilion. Private hot spring pools shimmered in the sunlight, and cozy hot tubs nestled in secluded corners offered a stunning oceanfront view.

“Holy shit,” Alice breathed out. “This is paradise.”

Jen grinned. “Told you it was worth it.”

The receptionist gestured toward a small refreshment table adorned with complementary drinks and a charcuterie board. “Please make yourselves comfortable. If you need anything, just ring the service bell.”

As she left, the group decided on their treatments.

“I’m getting the stone massage,” Jen announced. “I need every single one of my muscles realigned.”

“Same here,” Lilia agreed. “I’m practically made of knots at this point.”

Wanda hummed thoughtfully. “I think I’ll go for the Thai hot oil massage.”

“Me too,” you chimed in. “I need some serious tension release after that volleyball game.”

Alice turned to Agatha. “What about you?”

Agatha shrugged, already eyeing the steaming hot tub. “I think I’ll just soak for a while.”

Alice smirked. “Hot tub it is, then.”

With decisions made, everyone dispersed to their chosen relaxation spots. You watched as Agatha casually undid her robe, revealing her bikini again before stepping into the hot tub. She sank into the bubbling water with a content sigh, choosing a seat that directly faced where you stood.

Alice followed suit, settling in with her back turned toward you, chatting idly with Agatha. Your eyes, however, lingered on the governor a second too long.

She must have sensed it because her gaze flickered toward you. The moment your eyes met, you quickly looked away, pretending to adjust your robe as if you hadn’t just been blatantly staring. Your heart thumped slightly, but you ignored it.

Shaking off whatever weird feeling was creeping up, you removed your robe and laid down on the heated massage table. The masseuse approached, her voice soft as she asked if you were comfortable before beginning.

As soon as her hands started kneading your muscles, a deep sigh escaped you. The combination of the warm table and skilled hands working out the tension in your body sent you into a state of bliss. The distant sound of waves crashing, soft conversations from your friends, and the occasional hum of relaxation surrounded you.

You felt your limbs grow heavier, your breathing slowing. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought about Agatha, about the way she had been watching you—or maybe that was just in your head. Either way, the warmth of the massage lulled you deeper into relaxation, and before you knew it, your thoughts faded into nothingness as sleep overtook you.

You wake up, groggy and disoriented, unsure of how long you’ve been asleep. The warmth from the massage table still lingers against your skin, and for a moment, you just lay there, letting the soft hum of ocean waves and faint instrumental music from the spa speakers ground you.

Turning your head to the side, you find Wanda beside you, still fast asleep. Her face is buried in the cushioned table, her arms hanging lazily off the sides. A small snore escapes her lips, making you stifle a chuckle. Classic Wanda.

Slowly, you push yourself up into a sitting position, stretching out your stiff muscles. Your eyes wander across the spa space, taking in the serene atmosphere. The scent of essential oils and scented candles still lingers in the air, making it feel like you’re wrapped in a cocoon of tranquility.

Your gaze instinctively searches for Agatha. But she’s nowhere to be found.

Alice, on the other hand, is sitting comfortably in a massage chair, her head tilted back, face covered in a thick mud mask with two cucumber slices placed neatly over her closed eyes. She looks ridiculously peaceful, and you briefly consider taking a picture as blackmail material for later. You smirk to yourself but let her be.

Jen and Lilia are stretched out on their respective massage tables, talking in hushed voices. Jen glances over at you and smirks. “Look who finally decided to wake up.”

You run a hand through your hair and groan lightly. “How long was I out?”

Lilia checks the time on her smartwatch. “I’d say… at least an hour.”

You blink in surprise. “An hour?”

Jen chuckles. “Yup. Out cold. The masseuse even had to check if you were still breathing.”

You scoff. “Very funny.”

Lilia shrugs playfully. “Can you blame us? You looked like you melted into that table.”

You roll your eyes, but your mind drifts back to Agatha. She was here earlier, wasn’t she? You remember her sitting in the hot tub with Alice. But now she’s gone.

Trying to sound nonchalant, you ask, “Where’s Agatha?”

Jen raises a brow, an amused glint in her eyes, but she doesn’t comment on the specific way you asked that question. Instead, she nods toward the spa’s exit. “She left about fifteen minutes ago. Said she needed some fresh air.”

“Fresh air?” you echo, frowning slightly.

Lilia props herself up on her elbows. “Yeah, she just got up and walked off. Seemed kinda… I don’t know. Lost in thought?”

You hum in response, feeling an odd pull in your chest. Agatha, lost in thought? That’s not surprising, but still… something about it makes you curious.

Before you can dwell on it too much, Wanda stirs beside you, groaning dramatically. “Ugh… did I die?” she mumbles sleepily.

You laugh, pushing her shoulder lightly. “If you did, you’re still haunting us.”

She cracks one eye open. “Damn. Guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

The group chuckles at her dramatics, and for a moment, the thought of Agatha slips to the back of your mind. But it lingers, faint and persistent, like an unfinished conversation waiting to be revisited.

You reach for a bottle of champagne on the small table beside you and pour yourself a glass, taking a slow sip. The coolness of the drink soothes your throat, but your mind is still elsewhere. Absentmindedly, you grab another glass and pour a second serving, an idea forming in your head.

“Where exactly did Agatha go?” you ask, already standing up and wrapping yourself in the plush spa robe.

Jen exchanges a knowing glance with Lilia before answering, “Probably the sauna. It’s outside, past the garden area.”

You nod. “Got it.”

With the second glass in hand, you step away from the group and make your way toward the sauna section, the warm wooden scent hitting you as you push open the door leading outside.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally find the sauna section. The warm, steamy air seeps through the wooden door frames as you approach. You start knocking on each private sauna room, waiting for a response. On the third try, you hear a familiar voice.

"Occupied," Agatha calls out, sounding completely uninterested.

You smirk to yourself. "It’s me."

There’s a brief silence before the door creaks open slightly, revealing Agatha’s flushed face, strands of her damp hair sticking to her forehead. She raises an eyebrow but steps aside to let you in. You walk inside and settle onto the wooden bench, handing her the extra glass of champagne you brought. She takes it with a nod of thanks, her fingers brushing lightly against yours as she does.

"Champagne in a sauna? How luxurious," she muses before taking a slow sip.

You sip your own drink, then glance at her with an amused grin. "First the hot tub, now the sauna. Are you trying to give yourself heat stroke?"

Agatha scoffs, tilting her head slightly. "I can handle a little heat. Unlike someone who melted into a massage table for an hour."

You roll your eyes. "It was relaxing. Sue me."

The familiar banter carries on, teasing remarks and quick-witted comebacks exchanged between sips of champagne. Agatha smirks after a particularly sharp remark from you, shaking her head as she leans back against the wooden bench. "You're impossible," she mutters, though there’s no real bite in her words.

"And yet, here you are. Stuck with me," you quip, taking another sip of your drink.

Agatha exhales a quiet chuckle, swirling the champagne in her glass before taking a slow, deliberate sip. But eventually, the playful exchange fades into a comfortable silence. The heat of the sauna wraps around you both, heavy and soothing. You close your eyes, letting it seep into your muscles, easing away the tension of the day. You take another slow sip, savoring the bubbles as they tingle against your tongue, the warmth of the alcohol mixing with the heat of the room.

When you finally open your eyes again, you catch Agatha staring at you.

She looks away immediately, feigning disinterest as she takes another sip of her drink. But the way she avoided your gaze felt… deliberate. Like she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

Is there something on my face? you wonder. Or am I just imagining things? There was something about her look that you couldn’t quite place. Something unreadable. It left you confused, but you shrug it off and finish your champagne, setting the glass down beside you.

As soon as you close your eyes again, you swear you can feel her gaze on you once more. Or maybe… maybe you’re just going crazy.

A few minutes pass, and just as you’re about to fully relax, you feel a gentle pat on your thigh. The unexpected touch makes your breath hitch. You open your eyes, finding Agatha leaning in slightly—close, but not too close. Her voice is low, almost intimate in the quiet space.

"I’m heading out," she says.

For a second, you don’t respond. You’re still caught off guard by the warmth of her touch, even though it was fleeting. You blink, quickly regaining composure as she pulls away and stands up. You grab your glass and rise to your feet as well, following her out of the sauna.

When you both return, the group is fully awake now. Alice has wiped off her mud mask, and Wanda is sitting up, chatting with Jen and Lilia while they sip on cocktails. The spa’s atmosphere is dim now, the sun lowering on the horizon, painting the space in deep shades of amber. You realize just how much time you’ve spent here.

The group enjoys a few more drinks together, the conversation flowing easily as laughter fills the air. Lilia leans back with a content sigh, swirling the last of her drink in her glass. "I swear, I could stay here forever."

Jen chuckles, stretching her arms. "As tempting as that sounds, we’ve got another packed day tomorrow."

Wanda groans dramatically. "Ugh, do we have to wake up early? Because I feel like I need twelve hours of sleep after today."

"Try not to be late tomorrow, okay?" you tease, giving her a pointed look over your drink.

Wanda scoffs, rolling her eyes. "No promises."

Alice laughs, nudging her. "If we have to drag you out of bed, we will."

Agatha, who had been mostly quiet, glances at you before finishing her drink. "I’d pay to see that."

With one last round of chuckles, you all finally decide it’s time to leave. You head back to the locker room, changing out of your robes and gathering your belongings. As you step outside, the cool evening breeze hits your skin, a refreshing contrast to the sauna’s heat.

The group lingers for a moment, standing in the glow of the resort’s lights, the sound of the ocean faint in the background.

"Alright, see you all tomorrow," Jen says, smiling warmly. "And get some rest!"

With that, everyone parts ways, heading back to their respective villas, the night settling in over the resort.

After returning to your villa, you let out a deep sigh, feeling the exhaustion settle in after the long day. The first thing you do is take a shower, letting the warm water soothe your muscles. As the steam fills the bathroom, you try to shake off the lingering thoughts that have been swirling in your mind—especially the ones about Agatha.

Once you’re freshened up, you throw on a comfortable robe and sit down for a quiet dinner. The villa is peaceful, the distant sound of ocean waves creating a soft background hum. You eat slowly, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, checking a few messages and liking a couple of posts before setting it aside. But even as you try to focus on your meal, your thoughts keep drifting.

After dinner, you settle at your desk and open your laptop, clicking through emails from your secretary regarding work updates. There’s a report that needs your review, and a couple of inquiries from investors. You skim through them, typing out quick responses, but your heart isn’t really in it. You’re just going through the motions, trying to distract yourself.

Once you’re done, you shut the laptop and lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples. The day should have worn you out enough to knock you out instantly, yet sleep feels impossible. You grab your phone, scrolling through social media again—anything to occupy your mind. But no matter how many posts you see, nothing really registers.

Eventually, you sigh and place your phone down on the nightstand. You turn off the lights, nestling into bed, and close your eyes.

And yet… you can’t sleep.

You know exactly why.

Agatha.

There was something about her today. Something that made you feel... off. The way she looked at you, the way her eyes lingered just a little too long. Or maybe you were imagining it. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just you, overanalyzing things like you always do.

You groan quietly, turning onto your side.

Stop thinking about her. Just sleep.

You try to distract yourself, thinking about anything else—puppies, flowers, what you’ll eat for breakfast tomorrow. But your mind keeps drifting back to Agatha. Her voice, her teasing, the way she looked at you in the sauna… the way her breath hitched when your eyes locked after that fall during the volleyball game. The way you could sense her eyes on you at Nobu, lingering, watching, even as she sipped her wine—those moments weren’t nothing. Were they?

You let out a frustrated sigh, pulling the covers over your head. It’s going to be a long night.

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justwinginglife · 4 months ago

Text

No One But You

Food for the @pixelcafe-network

Sylus lay in a pool of his own blood, clutching the gunshot wound you had carved into his heart, muttering about betrayal and deceit in his final moments.

You rolled your eyes.

“Yesterday’s death was a hell of a lot more creative, Sylus.”

He sat up straight, scoffing. “Can’t help if the source material is unoriginal to start with. The best you could do was a gunshot wound today? Really?”

“That’s because I wasn’t trying to kill you, stupid.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And what do you call plowing a bullet through my chest?”

You crossed your arms. “I call that trying to shut you up. Although, I suppose that didn’t work so well either, because then you prattled on about what a traitor I was and how you never saw this coming. Which, in my humble opinion, was laying it on too thick. You always see everything coming, don’t act like a victim.”

He chuckled and with a snap of his fingers, any trace of his blood or his wound had vanished. “What can I say, I like theatrics.”

“And I like my bosses to be less dramatic and less alive.”

He stood to meet your gaze, tsking at you as he tucked a finger under your chin. “Now, now, kitten. We’ve been having such a grand time together the last few months.”

You waved his hand away but he caught your wrist. You knew once he had you in his grasp, you weren’t getting out until he chose to let you go so you stopped resisting. He smirked, pleased at your submission.

Sighing, you grumbled, “Sy- you’ve got a 1 o clock meeting and I’ve yet to thoroughly vet them, so eventually you’ll have to let me go.”

He yanked you closer to him. “I highly doubt my favorite assassin would forget to vet anybody. I’m sure you already had him in your sights long before I made the meeting, am I correct?”

You met his brazen gaze with a fierce look of your own. “I suppose now that you know all my secrets, I really will have to kill you.”

He chuckled and kissed your knuckles. “Looking forward to it.”

Asshole.

He knew that you knew you couldn’t kill him if you tried, because you’d already tried. Many, many times.

You’d met him months back when you’d attempted to snipe him from a rooftop. You were the best in the assassination business, but something about this cheeky bastard who had the nerve to grin into your oculars right as you pulled the trigger had you feeling like an amateur again. And when he materialized beside you right after you’d supposedly shot him, offering employment rather than retaliation, you knew he wasn’t taking you seriously at all. How could the head of Onychinus allow an assassin to walk right into his headquarters, to eat and drink beside him, to sleep in the room next door, knowing he had a hefty bounty on his head that she intended to collect, and not bat an eye? He was some other beast entirely and you weren’t sure how to react.

Of course it made you feel valued to know that he only entrusted his most important missions to you -he’d say something along the lines of “there’s no one else who can do the job but you” and you’d roll your eyes but oblige him- but he must’ve still thought you were somewhat incompetent if he willingly allowed you to take a shot at trying to kill him everyday. And then there was the matter of his obvious flirting.

The way he always had your favorite wine laid out for you after a mission -you weren’t sure who he’d tortured for this information- or the way he always made sure to take you on missions with him that involved dressing up so he could admire your figure -not like he wasn’t already admiring it on a daily basis in your usual getup- or even the way he purred his little pet names in your ear, pet names that he didn’t seem to give to anyone else but you.

Some small part of you even wondered if maybe he loved you. But the rest of you knew that he probably didn’t even know what love was. The rest of you knew that he was probably toying with you. But what was he waiting for? For you to no longer be useful? For you to fall for him? For you to give up on killing him? What did he want?

The man had the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen but you would never know what was going on behind them.

And it killed you to admit that he was beautiful. Rule number one of assassination was to not get attached to your target, but here you were, toasting him over dinner every night, admiring the curve of his lips, admiring the broadness of his shoulders, admiring the way his fingers held a wine glass, like you hadn’t spent decades training to be the monster you were known to be, like you were just some school girl hanging onto some jock’s every word.

He probably knew it too.

He liked to tease you; it was like his own personal form of entertainment.

He liked to intertwine his fingers in between yours like you hadn’t just used those very same fingers to try and strangle him only moments before. He liked to tuck your hair behind your ear, pinch your sides, pin down your wrists, tilt up your chin, anything so he could touch you. He liked to murmur your name, your real name, the name you hadn’t been called in years, the name you weren’t sure how he’d uncovered, over and over like a prayer, until you had to excuse yourself from dinner because you weren’t used to the gentleness in his voice. And then he liked to repeat the cycle over and over again, until you weren’t sure how you felt anymore, until you weren’t sure who you were anymore.

“Bastard.” You muttered under your breath.

“Trying to hurt my feelings?” Sylus snaked his arms around your waist.

“It was never my intention to hurt you, dear Sylus, only kill you.” You responded innocently.

He chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. “That’s my girl.”

God, he couldn’t keep saying this shit to you.

“Not your girl, Sy.” You retorted, shaking him off of you.

“And why not? You could be.” His eyes gleamed mischievously.

In an instant you had a knife pinned to his throat. “Because of this. Because you’re nothing more to me than a target and I’m nothing more to you than a toy.”

He leaned in closer to you, allowing the metal to pierce his skin, drawing blood. “Well if it makes you feel better, there’s no one I’d rather have kill me but you.”

You laughed at that, withdrawing your knife. “Should I feel honored? And how does one even respond to that- there’s no one I’d rather have toy with me but you? God, work on your lines Sylus, you’re so cliche. You have a 2 o clock meeting, so get to it.” You shoved him off of you.

Grinning, he sauntered off to his next meeting with you guarding his back like you always did. And when his 2 o clock tried to kill him, he kept that same stupid grin on his face as he watched you pin the man underneath you in a matter of seconds, cuffing his hands together so tightly they bruised.

“Is it appropriate to say I’m feeling jealous right now, kitten?” He chuckled.

You scoffed. “No, Sylus, it is not.”

“And what if I said there’s no one I’d rather have pin me down than you?”

“Still not appropriate.”

The man underneath you groaned. “If you two are going to keep flirting or bickering or whatever this is, could you kill me already?”

You smacked his head with the butt of your gun. “Shut up, we’re trying to talk here.”

“Feisty. I love it when you talk like that, kitten.” Sylus ran his hand through your hair, the way he always did, admiring the way the strands felt in between his fingers.

“Funny, I love when you stop talking, Sy.”

The man squirmed beneath you again. “I’m serious, please just kill me already.”

“I said shut up, my god.” You tightened his cuffs.

But this time the man was annoyed. “He’s toying with you, you’re toying with him, we get it already. A man like Sylus is never gonna truly love you so can you please quit flirting an ki-”

You shot him in the head. “Did I not say to shut up?”

You had intended to keep him alive for information, but you had to admit his comment hit a little too close to home. You already knew Sylus was never going to love you, but was it that obvious to a random bystander? The thought pissed you off.

Sylus sighed. “And now I’m going to have to get the carpet cleaners in here.”

“You really should keep the company of quieter people.”

“And you should know when a man is baiting you.”

You scoffed, standing to leave. “And what’s that supposed to mean? I know when I’m being played, you do it all the time.”

“You’re so gullible sometimes, kitten. You’d really believe what a random hitman says?” He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you closer, and tucked one hand underneath your chin, drawing your gaze to him.

“I don’t believe what anyone says.”

“Yet you’d kill him for saying I could never love you? Interesting way of showing you don’t believe him.”

You glared at him, anger flaring in your gut. You attempted to wrench yourself away from him but he only pulled you tighter against him. “Sylus, let go already. Enough of this. I’m tired.” You snapped.

“Haven’t I already told you? There’s no one else for me but you.”

“Sylus, quit saying shit like that.”

“Right, you don’t like when I talk. Well then, how about this?” In a matter of seconds, his lips had found their way to yours, molding his passion and persistence into you.

You bit his lip in annoyance but it only fueled him more.

He chuckled against your mouth and claimed your tongue with his. His hands rested on the small of your back, possessively holding you in place against him. After properly swallowing down your moans and devouring all your desire, he finally pulled away to allow you some breath.

“Fine.” You whispered, still dizzy from his kiss.

He smirked, nuzzling up against your ear, as he murmured, “Fine what?”

“Fine. There’s no one else for me but you. Happy?”

“Immensely.”

He kissed you again and didn’t stop kissing you all night.

Taglist: @tbaluver

#love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus lads #sylus love and deepspace #lads #han's library

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httpdwaekki · 9 months ago

Text

bright | h.h.

summary: you have a light sensitivity and forget your sunglasses but hyunjin is kind enough to give you his.

wc: 800

a/n: i wrote this in hopes to reach more of stayblr, the lovely @astraystayyh and many other wonderful writers (including myself) are writing requests for anyone that is willing to donate to her fundraiser to help people in gaza! all you have to do is donate and send proof to one of the writers along with your request! (please do make sure you read writers rules for requests first! and be aware they have a right to say no to the request.) remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

it wasn’t a secret that you had trouble with any kind of light, the sun, lamps, phone screens, etc.

sometimes you were okay but other times any type of light could cause a migraine unlike anything else. because of this you always kept a pair of sunglasses on you just in case.

well apparently not always, today you had rushed out the door to meet hyunjin, the shaded lens forgotten on your counter.

you were sat outside at a small cafe, waiting for hyunjin to return. both of you wanting to enjoy the last of the spring before the summer heat. you were oblivious to the missing object, opting to go without them for a bit, but that didn’t last long. soon after your eyes felt strained, a familiar dull ache presenting itself behind your left eye.

you look in through your bag, searching for the darker lens that weren’t there. you sigh, the ache still coming in waves, growing stronger with each one. luckily there was an umbrella so you decide to ignore it and enjoy your time with your boyfriend.

you place your bag back on your chair, as the pretty brunette approaches your table, drinks and food in hand. his signature versace glasses slipping down his nose, dopey grin present on his face as he places the tray on your table.

you return the grin, scrunching your nose as he flicks the glasses atop his head. he sets your drink and your food in front of you before sitting in the chair across from you. you both enjoy your drink and pastries, catching up and enjoying each others company.

the sun decided to shift, causing the sun to shine directly on you, the dull ache becoming sharper. you squint your eyes, attempting to hide the wince in pain with it. you place your hand above your eyes, giving yourself a bit of shade, focusing on hyunjin’s story.

“so he came to stay at our dorms for a bit to “escape the loud rage of felix because he sucks at league and it’s not changing anytime soon.” his words not mine.” he explains, as you giggle at the absurdity of his story. “ so seungmin’s solution was to go to the dorm that housed the loudest member in the whole group?” you asked, softly chuckling.

“that’s what i said!” you smile at his outburst, switching hands as your arm got tired. hyunjin tilts his head at the action. “angel?” you hum, looking at him, eyes squinted. “why don’t you put on your sunglasses?” he asks, pointing towards your bag.

“oh i forgot to grab them when i left, it’s okay though.” you give him a reassuring smile before leaning forward into the shade, taking a bite of your croissant.

he knew your eyes and most likely your head was hurting you, and you were trying to put on a brave face. he grabbed the shaded lens currently holding back his soft locks, leaning forward, sliding the lens carefully onto your face.

you jump in surprise, letting out a squeak before relaxing. you send him a small pout as he sits back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back. “what’d you do that for?” you ask, pushing the glasses up your nose.

“because, i know your eyes are probably stinging and if you don’t have a headache now, you’re definitely on your way to one.” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “what about your eyes?” you asked, frown still present.

“don’t worry about mine, do you want to sit over here in the shade?” he asks, moving as if he’s gonna get up. you shake your head, moving to stop him. “no no, i’m okay, you stay.”

he scoots his chair over slightly, still in the shade, “come on, move your chair.” he waves you over. you roll your eyes before getting up, moving your chair towards the dimmer area, sitting down.

“i was fine over there.” you glare at him over the black shades.

he rolls his eyes before leaning over slightly, wrapping his arms around you. “will you just let me take care of you please?” he asks, placing a quick kiss to the back of your head. “plus i know you were 2 minutes away from a headache.” giving you a knowing look.

now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “yeah yeah.” you concede, admitting defeat. “thank you, my love.” you say, turning to him, placing a kiss to his cheek. “anything for my muse.” he smiles, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before letting you go.

the rest of the day was spent walking around, enjoying the weather and a quick trip to the versace store to buy you your own matching pair of sunglasses.

do not repost

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bakuchrome · 5 days ago

Text

Habits

Satoru Gojo x reader

Sypnosis: After your breakup with Gojo Satoru, you struggle to fill the void he left behind.

Master List

You don’t remember when you started drinking every night. Maybe it was right after he left. Maybe it was the first time you woke up alone in a bed too big for just you. Maybe it was when you realized his absence wasn’t a bad dream— it was real.

The club’s music pounds in your ears, loud enough to drown out your own thoughts. The bass rattles your ribs as your body moves without thinking, hands gripping a stranger’s shoulders, lips brushing against someone who isn’t him.

Their hands touch you, but they don’t feel like his. Their warmth doesn’t seep into your skin the way Gojo’s used to.

You laugh— too loud, too forced. Your body is a ghost of itself, dancing on autopilot, pretending. It’s easier this way. If you drink enough, dance enough, let enough people whisper sweet nothings in your ear, maybe you’ll forget him.

Maybe you’ll forget the way he used to hold you like you were his entire world.

Your apartment is a mess. Empty bottles on the counter, takeout boxes stacked on the table. You haven’t cooked in weeks. Haven’t slept in your bed since the last time he was in it.

You sit on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, scrolling through your phone with bleary eyes.

Satoru: Did you eat today?

Satoru: You really shouldn’t be drinking so much.

Satoru: I saw you at the club last night.

Satoru: Please stop doing this to yourself.

Your fingers tremble over the screen. You don’t reply.

Gojo is the strongest. He could destroy mountains, crush curses, change the world. But he couldn’t love you the way you needed. He couldn’t be yours in the way you wanted.

He still tries to take care of you, even from afar. But you don’t need his pity.

You throw your phone across the room. It clatters against the wall, but it doesn’t break. You wish it would. You wish something would.

Because if something shatters, maybe it’ll feel the way your heart does.

You see him everywhere.

On the street, in passing cars, in the reflection of a store window. Every time your heart jumps, only to crash when you realize it isn’t him.

But then, one night— it is.

You’re outside a club, leaning against the cold brick wall, head spinning from too many drinks. You close your eyes for a second, and when you open them, there he is.

Gojo Satoru.

Standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, looking at you like you’re something fragile. His usual grin is missing, replaced by something unreadable.

You laugh, but it sounds empty. “What, are you following me now?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His white hair glows under the streetlights, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. “You’re killing yourself like this.”

You roll your eyes. “What do you care?”

“Don’t do that.” His voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it. “Don’t act like I don’t.”

You take a step toward him, heat rising in your chest. “Then why did you leave?”

Silence. A car drives by, headlights casting shadows across his face.

“You know why,” he finally says.

You do. But knowing doesn’t make it hurt less.

You reach for him without thinking. Your fingers brush against the sleeve of his coat, but before you can grab hold— he steps back.

It’s a small movement. Barely noticeable. But it feels like a knife to your ribs.

“Go home, y/n,” he says. And then he turns and walks away.

You watch him go, breath hitching, throat burning.

The cold air bites at your skin. But inside, you’re already frozen.

You should move on.

You should let go.

But instead, you find yourself at his door.

You don’t remember leaving the club, don’t remember the taxi ride. You only know that when you look up, you’re standing in front of the place that used to be yours.

You hesitate. Knock once. Twice.

Footsteps. Then the door creaks open.

Gojo stares at you, surprised, before his expression shifts into something pained. “y/n—”

You don’t let him finish. You step inside, pushing against him, arms wrapping around his torso. His scent— clean linen, mint, something undeniably him— fills your senses.

“Just one more time,” you whisper. “Please.”

He exhales shakily. You expect him to push you away. To tell you this is a bad idea.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, his arms close around you, pulling you against his chest, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

That night, you lose yourself in him. In the way his hands trace your skin, the way his lips move against yours like he’s starving. Like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted.

But when morning comes, you wake up alone.

His side of the bed is empty. Cold.

There’s no note, no message, no trace of him except for the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin.

You close your eyes, swallowing the sob rising in your throat.

You should have known.

Gojo Satoru was never meant to stay.

You wake up that evening and do it all over again.

Another drink. Another stranger’s arms. Another attempt to forget.

But no matter how many drinks you have, no matter how many people you kiss—

They’re not him.

And they never will be.

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #Spotify

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morgana-larkin · 21 days ago

Text

Alright, the anticipated chapter 4 of ‘Just Tired’! All of youse were very excited for this chapter so I hope it delivers what you want. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6

Just Tired - Part 4

Warnings: Manipulative relationship, swearing

Words: 3.9k

Melissa is putting dinner on the plates when Joe gets home. He walks into the kitchen and gives her a kiss before getting a beer from the fridge.

“Guess what? A couple friends are coming with us to the bar tomorrow to watch the game with us.” Joe says with a smile.

“It couldn’t have been just us?” Melissa asks him.

“Course not, watching the cowboys get their asses whooped is better with other people there with you.” Joe tells her and she hands him one of the plates.

“I guess.” Melissa tells him as they make it to the table and they start eating. “Oh, I’m getting a dyslexic kid in my class this year. I’m gonna be able to help a little girl the same way I was helped.” She excitedly tells him.

“Cool.” He tells her, completely disinterested. Melissa’s smile immediately turns into a frown and she just continues eating.

Melissa wakes up the next morning around 7 and she gets up and gets ready for the day. She’s writing a grocery list while eating some scrambled eggs and bacon when Joe comes down.

“So I was thinking we can head to the bar for 6.” He tells her and she nods.

“Sounds good.” She says and continues eating.

They get through the weekly chores and groceries before Melissa hops in the shower around 3. She puts on her jersey, and then she goes downstairs and goes to reheat the leftovers while Joe is finishing up getting ready. They both eat and then head to the bar and they get there just after 6. They order two beers and then his friends show up. Melissa decides to just sit in a booth alone while watching the game. 20 minutes into the game she orders another beer.

“Melissa?” She hears and turns around to see you there, wearing an Eagles jersey.

“Hey Y/n.” She says and then turns to the bartender and orders another beer. “Are you here to watch the game as well?” She asks and you nod.

“I came with a…sort of friend… but she’s currently making out with a man right now.” You say and point to them.

“I came here with Joe and he invited his friends.” She tells you and you look to see Joe there, having a drink and having fun with his friends.

“And you look like you’re having fun being here.” You tell her playfully and she smiles and then takes a sip. “Can I get some nachos please?” You ask the bartender and he nods before getting your order. “Thank you.” You say as you get your order and pay. “Want some?” You ask Melissa and she smiles before taking a chip. You hear some cheering happening and see the Eagles scored another touchdown.

“So what makes that girl a sort of friend?” Melissa asks you.

“I went on a date with her two months ago, there was zero connection, and to be nice I said we could be friends. And many people say this but don’t actually mean it. So I was surprised when she just randomly asked me if I wanted to come here today to watch the game. I hope she just forgets about me after today.” You explain and she nods as she takes another chip.

“Melissa, did you see that touchdown!?!?” Melissa hears and Joe comes up to her.

“Ya, of course I saw it.” She says and fakes a smile.

“Who are you?” Joe asks you as he sees that you and Melissa were talking.

“I’m Y/n, I’m Melissa's coworker.” You tell him politely.

“Melissa has never mentioned a coworker named Y/n.” He says as he looks between you and Melissa.

“Well it’s my first year there, I teach second grade as well.” You explain.

“Melissa, you don’t talk to newbies.”

“We teach the same grade, Joe, I’m gonna have to talk to her sometimes.” She tells him. Joe looks at you and you seem to be looking at Melissa with a smile while Melissa is taking a sip of her beer. He then gets Melissa to turn around and he kisses her on the lips and you look down, disappointed. “You never kissed me in public before.” She says to him and he shrugs.

“Felt like it.” He says. “By the way, one of the guys suggested that the next game could be at our house.” He says. “I think that’s a great idea so I said yes.”

“What? No. Why does it have to be at our place?” She asks.

“Come on, don’t be so controlling.” He says.

“I’m not, but you didn’t ask me first if I’m ok with that.” She tells him and then Melissa sees you watching out of the corner of her eye. “Alright, I’m sorry.” She says and then he gives her a kiss before going back to his friends. You see Melissa let out a sigh and you order 2 shots of vodka.

“Here. Looks like you need it.” You say as you hand her one. She looks at you and you offer her a smile before she takes it, cheers with you and then takes the shot.

“Thanks.” She says softly.

“He seems nice.” You tell her sarcastically and she looks down. “Why did you apologise?”

“Because I told him no and I shouldn’t have.” She says.

“You didn’t do anything wrong though, you didn’t need to apologise. He agreed to have it at your house without asking you first, you have a right to say no.” You tell her sternly and she looks at you and sighs.

She then orders 2 more shots and gives you one. You both take the shot and then you continue eating the nachos as you occasionally sip your alcoholic drink. An hour later and you order another pair of shots for you as you see her keep looking at Joe with sad eyes.

“Hey, forget him for now. He brought his friends with him and isn’t thinking about you right now.” You tell her bluntly and hand her the shot and she cheers with you before quickly taking the shot.

“You know, you’re more fun than I thought you’d be.” She tells you, slurring a bit.

“Really? I think I’m quite fun, even at school. I mean I don’t take anything seriously, you said so yourself.” You tell her and she chuckles. You then order more nachos and some water to help balance out the alcohol. “You know I still don’t know what you see in him, I still think he’s an ass.” You tell her and she shrugs.

“I fell in love with him, simple as that.” She says and you nod.

“Do you still love him?” You suddenly ask with the help of liquid courage.

“Of course I do, I-if I didn’t love him then I wouldn’t be with him.” She tells you, and it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than you. The Eagles then score another touchdown and Melissa sees Joe high-fiving his friends and cheering. You feel bad for her in that moment and without thinking, you grab a hold of her hand. She immediately gasps and pulls her hand back and looks at you confused. “What was that for?” She asks you, she isn’t angry, just confused.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I just feel bad that your husband is having fun with his friends and leaving you alone.” You tell her and she looks down.

“I don’t get much physical touch, or apologies.” She tells you while still looking down.

“What? He’s able to resist keeping his hands off of you?” You ask her, surprised and confused. “If I had a girl as hot as you then I wouldn’t be able to stop touching her.” You tell her and she looks up at you and sees you’re being genuine.

“Thank you.” She tells you softly and you nod with a smile. You both don’t notice that Joe is watching the interaction and furrows his eyebrows.

The game ends a couple hours later and you can tell Melissa is tipsy, maybe even drunk from about 5 beers and 3 vodka shots.

“Ready to go Mel?” Joe asks her and Melissa looks at you with a smile.

“I had fun, I’ll see you Monday.” She tells you and you nod.

“See you Monday, Melissa.” You say and smile back at her. You watch as her and Joe walk out and you see Joe squeeze her ass and you give a disgusted face at Joe being like that to her in public.

Melissa and Joe get home and Melissa stumbles a bit into him as she giggles. He then pushes her up against the door.

“Oof.” Melissa says and grabs onto his arms.

“Were you flirting with that girl?” He asks her and she looks at him.

“Who?”

“Y/n.” He simply says and she shakes her head.

“No, we were just hanging out.” She says and gets close to his face. Joe then picks her up and gets her to put her legs around him. He then kisses her roughly and she lets out a squeak before wrapping her arms around him. He then brings her into the bedroom while stripping her clothes off.

Melissa spends Sunday morning with a slight hangover and then she goes downstairs around noon when she doesn’t feel like the sun is blasting in her eyes.

“I see you’re alive.” Joe tells her a bit loud and she groans.

“Not so loud please.” She tells him and he chuckles.

“You drank quite a bit with that new teacher.” He tells her.

“Ya, we had a couple shots.” She says and sits down on the couch beside him.

“Do you remember everything that happened yesterday?” He asks her and she nods.

“Of course, from the moment we got there right up until we had sex.” She tells him and he nods.

On Monday, you pull up to her place on your bike and you put it in the backyard before knocking on her door.

“Hey Y/n.” She says with a smile and swings her keys around her finger as she walks up to her car.

“You look good.” You tell her as you see a low cut pink top and leather pants.

“Thanks.” She says and both of you get in the car. She decides to listen to music today and you watch as she sings along happily.

“You’re in a good mood today.” You tell her.

“I get to meet my little eagles today.” She tells you and you smile.

“Of course you call them little eagles.” You say and she winks at you before turning the music up and you both sing along. You pull up to the parking lot and you already see some students waiting outside.

“They only show up early on the first day.” She tells you and you nod before walking up to them. About 15 minutes later, you’re talking to Janine and Jacob when someone calls out your name.

“Looking for a Ms. Y/l/n.” This man says and you think he works in the front office.

“Yes? That’s me.” You say and he looks at you before telling 4 kids that you’re their teacher. “Hey kiddos. I’m Ms. Y/l/n and I’m going to be your teacher this year.” You tell them with a big smile and you don’t notice Melissa staring at you. “You know, for me, second grade was much better than first grade.” You tell them and then 3 other kids are brought to you.

“Hello my little eagles.” You hear Melissa say and you look at her. “I think I’ve seen some of you here since kindergarten.” She tells them. Melissa then checks her list and sees that she’s got all her students. “Alright my little eagles, ready to see the classroom and pick your seats?” She asks them and they nod before she goes inside and she passes you by and smiles at you.

You get 13 more students handed to you and then you see you got all 20 of your students.

“Alright, line up and let’s get inside and in the air conditioning.” You tell your students and they line up. You bring them inside and lead them to the classroom. “Alright, and this will be your classroom for the year.” You say and they go inside. “Pick whatever seat you want.” You tell them and they all pick a seat. “I’m just going to do attendance first to be absolutely sure.” You tell them and then start going through the names. You go through all of them and realise you’re missing one but you have 20 names on the list and 20 students. “Who did I not call out?” You ask and you see a student raise their hand. “And what’s your name?”

“Amaya.” She says and you check your list and don’t see her there.

“Well it’s lovely to meet you but I don’t think you’re supposed to be in my class.” You tell her and she shakes her head. “Do you know where you’re supposed to be?” You ask her.

“In Mrs. Schemmenti’s class.” She says and looks down.

“Why are you sad about that? Mrs. Schemmenti is an amazing teacher and person.”

“My friend isn’t in her class.” She tells you and she points to her friend.

“I’m sorry about that but I do have to bring you back.” You tell her and then step out of your classroom for a second. “Mr Johnson, perfect, can you watch my class for a minute, I need to bring one to Mrs. Schemmenti’s class.” You tell him and he nods before you go back into your classroom. “Ok Amaya, let’s go.” You say and she walks up to you and she takes your hand. You walk across the hall to Melissa’s classroom and you knock on the door. Melissa opens it a few seconds later and smiles when she sees you.

“Ms. Y/l/n, I was just about to come see you. I have one of your students.” She tells you.

“What a coincidence cause I have one of yours. This is Amaya.” You tell her and she looks at her.

“Welcome to my class Amaya, why don’t you go find an empty seat. Gracie can you come up here with your things?” She tells one of the students. Amaya goes to take a seat and Melissa looks at you. “It’s not a coincidence, the two of them agreed on a swap to be with their friends.” She tells you and you hum.

“I wonder why I never thought to do that when I was their age.” You tell her and she snorts, then a young girl comes up to you both.

“Gracie, this is Y/l/n, your teacher this year.” She tells the student and Gracie looks at you.

“Sorry about swapping places on you.” She tells you both.

“That’s alright but we gotta go to the classroom, I left the janitor in charge.” You tell the student and then you grab her hand. “See you later Ms. Schemmenti.” You tell her and then walk back to your class. “Alright Gracie, go and find your seat.” You tell her and she finds the empty desk and sits down. “Alright class, how about we start by going around the room and saying your name? I’ll start. My name is Y/n Y/l/, but you can call me Ms. Y/l/n.” You tell them and you miss Melissa glancing at you while interacting with your students.

You get your class to line up a few hours later so you can bring them to the caf for lunch. You and Melissa end up bringing them at the same time so you both just walk your classes together.

“How was your morning newbie?” She asks you as you both walk to the caf with your classes.

“Good so far. Did a few welcome games, did some drawings and even story time.” You tell her and she smiles.

“That’s good.” She says and you both reach the caf and drop your students off. You make sure that everyone has a lunch before you and Melissa both head to the lounge.

“You know we did a couple of name games and I still can’t remember anyone’s name.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Give it a week or two of having to tell people to quiet down and you’ll know everyone’s names.” She says and you smile.

“Good to know. How was your morning?” You ask her.

“Kids are so excited to see their friends again and not too keen on paying attention. So it’s been good.” She says and smiles. “By the way, I wanted to thank you for showing me a good time on Saturday.” She tells you and you shrug.

“You know I shouldn’t have had to. Your husband should have included you since you went together.” You tell her and she hums.

“Well whether he should have or not, I appreciate that you did.” She tells you and you nod.

“Anytime.”

“Careful, or I might take you up on that.” She says playfully as you reach the break room.

“Well it’s good that I really do mean it then.” You say and she chuckles. You both enter the break room and everyone stares at the fact that you both seem to be having, not just a civil conversation, but a playful one.

“How on earth did you make friends with Melissa in a week?” Jacob asks as you sit down.

“Not friends, just acquaintances.” You say and turn to Melissa. “Actually, is it safe to call you an acquaintance, Melissa?” You ask her and she turns to look at you and thinks about it.

“I mean you do know my favourite colour so ya, I guess you could call us that.” She tells you with a smile before turning back around and talks with Barb.

Everyone gets up to go get their class as lunchtime is ending and you and Melissa end up walking beside each other.

“So any plans for the afternoon with your class?” You ask her.

“Yep, I’m going to give them a paper of animals and get them to name them.” She tells you.

“Awww, that sounds cute. I loved learning about all the animals in school.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you.

“You really are an enigma.” She says and you shrug.

“I did warn you about that.” You say as you both reach your classes outside. “Ok class, we’re gonna be spelling numbers and then we’ll play a game after.” You tell them and they cheer at the game part. “Amaya, back to Schemmenti’s class.” You tell her as you see her sneaking in your line with her friend.

“Nice catch.” Melissa says to you before she brings her class inside and you smile.

At the end of the day, you’re helping a student with their laces and then stand up and their mother comes up to get them.

“Sorry about that, still teaching him laces. Probably should have gotten Velcro.” She tells you and you smile.

“Not a problem, he’s gotta learn sometime right?” You say and the parent smiles and nods.

“I suppose so.” She says.

“My name is Janice, and I guess you're my son’s teacher.” She says and you shake her head.

“That I am, I’m Ms. Y/l/n.” You say and then say goodbye to your student and him and the parent leaves.

“Wow, you seem to just catch everyone’s attention.” Melissa says from her door frame.

“Must be my awkward personality.” You say and she chuckles.

“Must be.” She says and says goodbye to the last student. She then goes to grab her things and locks her door before turning towards you. “Ready to go?” She asks and you nod.

“Yep.” You say as you lock your door.

“So how do you feel after your first day?” She asks you.

“I feel great. My students are amazing and completely adorable. And I seem to have caught my coworker’s attention enough that she considers us acquaintances.” You tell her and she giggles.

“Well you met my husband and you know my favourite colour, isn’t that acquaintance status information?” She says and you laugh.

“I guess so.” You tell her as you reach the parking lot. You turn to look at her at the same time she does and you both lock eyes and you see a certain shine in them that you haven’t before. “I love the colour of your eyes.” You say in a complete trance and her breath hitches. You then snap out of your trance just as quickly as you entered it and realise what you said. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I mean, you do have beautiful eyes but… I’m just digging a bigger hole for myself.” You ramble and Melissa just laughs.

“You’re adorable.” She says and she unlocks the car and doesn’t realise the effect she has on you when she said that to you. “Thank you for the compliment.” She adds as you both get in.

“Well you’re very easy to compliment.” You say and she looks at you and sees you’re being genuine.

“Why do you give me lots of compliments?” She asks you with a tilt of her head.

“Because I want to.” You simply say and she looks at you. “And with the way you look, you have definitely earned them.” You add and you miss the blush on her face as she turns to face the road. Melissa drives you both to her place and you go and get your bike. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You tell her as you put your helmet on. “And I will survive this year and come back next year.” You say with a smile.

“We’ll see about that.” She tells you and you walk up to her as an idea pops in your head.

“Well how about we make a bet?” You ask her and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Well you certainly have my attention.” She says.

“That was about as far as I got. I honestly didn’t know if you’d agree to it.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“I never pass up a bet.” She tells you as she’s leaning on her car. “How about if you don’t come back next year or don’t survive the year then you take me to a candy store and I can get whatever I want.” She tells you and think about it.

“Ok sounds good. But if I win then I get to film you saying that I was right and you were wrong and also seal it with a kiss on the cheek.” You tell her and you hold your hand out. You see her think about it for a second before shaking your hand, sealing the bet.

“Deal.” She says and you wink at her before turning around and walk to your bike. You glance at her before getting on your bike and bike to your place.

Melissa watches as you get further and further away before she lets out a sigh. She then feels a slight happiness near her heart, one that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She lets out a breath after she realises what the feeling is and then looks at where you just were a minute ago. “Fuck.”

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