#these tags might get crass

[transingthoseformers]

Tfa Megatron x rodimus

I also thought the same thing 🤣,I don't know whether to feel pity or admiration for Rod

I cannot decide either because goddamn Rodimus how. How? How.

[colormepurplex2]

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  

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[comradeghosty]

Would My Lady Like to Dance? (NSFW)

NSFW Zoro x reader fic

Summary:

You are on a secret mission with some of the Strawhats to get some important documents. Things go awry and you find yourself hiding with Zoro.

Tags: nsfw, jealous Zoro, PWP, rough sex, light BDSM themes, hair pulling, vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise, possessive behavior, biting, a bit of blood, regency/ballroom attire

!!! 18+ !!!

I also posted it on AO3

The mission was simple enough: infiltrate the ball, find the documents, and get out. For some reason Nami needed these Grandline maps and you were definitely not about to argue with her. The plan was for you to dress up and pretend like you were a guest. Everybody had their own separate role to fill, so you split up into teams to prepare yourselves. Since you were dressing up as a guest, you worked with Nami to get a costume and go over all of the correct proceedings so you wouldn’t stand out. By the time you were done, you were a proper lady. All of you had to arrive separately to not arouse suspicion, so when you got to the ball, you tried to look around inconspicuously to find your crew.

The first person you saw was Robin. She was dressed plainly and playing the violin in the live orchestra. You saw Sanji running food from the kitchen, and Luffy dressed in a little chauffeur outfit taking peoples coats. He just was kind of tossing them into the coat closet in a pile and it made you chuckle. Your eyes scanned the ballroom, taking in all of the people dressed fancily. The last person you were expecting to see was Zoro since everybody else was staying on the ship in case a hasty exit was needed. Nervously, you smoothed your dress. It was light green silk that had a high waist and small bust. The fabric draped loosely down your legs and it bunched in small puffs over your shoulders. Elbow length gloves hid your calloused hands.

You took in your surroundings, people danced with their partners and chatted amongst the edges of the dance floor. The room was large and you noted faces of important people that you might need to talk with during the night, specifically looking and catching the eyes of the host, who began to wander in your direction. With a coy wave of your fan and a bashful look, you began your job for the night. 

As you talked with the host, you acted curious about him, in a way that made him feel intelligent and impressive. Men always revealed more when they bragged about themselves. Slowly, you started to catalog more and more information about him, feeling confident that he had the documents you needed stored away somewhere in his estate. You egged him on, about to request a personal tour of the mansion, when you were rudely distracted. If you were not so entranced, you would’ve been pissed at him for distracting you. 

Over the host's shoulder, a vision of a certain green haired man appeared. However, it was not the sweaty and crass swordsman you knew. He was a gentleman, draped in this beautiful white fabric with billowing sleeves that hid his muscles. The cravat accentuated the sharpness of his jawline, and his slick backed hair made his gaze more piercing than usual. He wore a pair of pants that hugged his slim waist, two columns of gold buttons fastening them. The metal of the buttons complimented the gold jewelry that hung from his ear. His hands were clad in black leather gloves, which he seemed to be adjusting a bit nervously. 

You were snapped from your trance by the host touching your arm, gently but insistent. He asked if you were alright, to which you nodded evenly and excused yourself, promising to find him a bit later. 

As you approached the swordsman, a startled look crossed his face for a moment before he corrected his expression. His eye roved down your body, registering your attire. You smiled, touching his arm briefly before curtsying. “Don’t worry, Zoro. We are allowed to interact here,” you reassured him, assuming his expression was anxiety about being recognized. 

He bowed deeply, one arm pressed against his torso and the other placed against the small of his back. Before he raised his body, his head peeked up to look at you. “I’m not worried about it, my lady,” he teased. His eye crinkled slightly, a wide smile stretching across his face. You felt yourself blush at his expression, unsure of whether he was making fun of you or was impressed by you. His teeth seemed to shine as he offered you a hand, which you took gracefully. Zoro pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, still smiling up at you. “Would my lady like to dance?”

God, what was going on? Of course, you had always noticed that Zoro was handsome. Who wouldn’t? But seeing him like this, all poised and dressed up, made you feel flustered. You could feel the blush on your cheeks as you nodded dumbly at him. If he could have smiled wider, he would have.

In a swift motion, his hand had gripped yours and you felt the other one on your waist. Zoro was suddenly very near, pressing your bodies against each other as he swept you up in a dance that led you to the ballroom floor. His swept back hair revealed the handsome planes of his face. Somehow, his features looked more intense than usual as you stared up at him. His face was twisted in a smirk, as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. 

“So the swordsman cleans up nicely, huh?”

Your hand tightened slightly on his shoulder, but you gave him a carefree smile. “Evidently so, you look very handsome tonight,” you praised. The compliment made Zoro quirk an eyebrow, hiding his smile out of your sight. He smelled incredible, which struck you as odd. The usual musky sweat, booze, and steel scent that cloyed to the swordsman was replaced by a leathery, sandalwood, citrusy smell. There were still remnants of booze, which most likely just leaked from Zoro’s pores.  

“I didn’t know you could dance, Zoro,” you teased.

The swordsman chuckled, spinning you expertly. Somehow you ended up closer to him, if that was even possible the way he pressed your bodies together. “Robin taught me, and dressed me, and put this perfume stuff on me… I’m guessing she did a good job then?” Zoro’s brow quirked at the inquiry. You nodded your head, blushing and hiding your face against his shoulder.

“Tsk, look at me. It’s not lady-like to hide your face,” he murmured in your ear. When you looked up, his eye gleamed with mischief. “You look lovely tonight as well.”

This time, you couldn’t hide your blush. Butterflies blossomed in your stomach at the compliment, and you were speechless for the first time all night. The music ended, signaling that your dance was over. “Get back to your task. Be safe, please.” Zoro whispered into your hair, and your breath caught in your throat. He pulled away from you, bowing again and kissing your gloved hand, before dismissing himself to roam the ballroom once more.

~

The crisp night air cooled your skin as you stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. In order to find the papers, you had agreed to meet the host in his study. You walked to the railing, crossing your arms and resting against it. Stars sparkled in the sky and the scent of pine was in the air. You thought about what you were going to do when meeting with the host. A few moments seemed to pass before a clearing of a throat made you startle. You quickly looked over and found the green haired swordsman staring at you intensely.

“Oh, Zoro, it's just you,” you breathed. A hand rested on your chest from being startled, and you missed the way Zoro’s eye quickly flitted down to your breast and back up. “I’m glad you’re here. I think I can get the papers soon.”

Zoro’s brow quirked up, his eye studying your face intently. It was clear he was waiting for you to finish explaining. You shuffle a little, a bit awkward but confident in your plan. As if Zoro could sense your nervousness, he looked out at the expanse of forest beyond the estate.

“He’s asked me to meet him in his study,” you stated plainly. Your cheeks burned a bit red at the potential implications of the host’s request. 

“Yeah, okay. Just don’t do anything stupid,” he muttered.

Your eyes flitted away from him, face red. A noise resembling a scoff escaped your lips rather clumsily. “Stupid? Please. I am very smart, the sneakiest one in our crew, actually. Thanks for the vote of confidence though,” you said flatly, rolling your eyes at the swordsman. 

“I… okay. Whatever,” Zoro dismissed you, slightly turning away from you.

“What?” you demanded him to say what he was going to say.

“Just…” he sighed, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You breathed out fast, frustrated by his vagueness. One of your hands gripped his firm bicep, prompting him to look at you. “Zoro, then what do you mean? I don't understand.”

The green haired man looked at you, his eye dark and stern. Fierce energy radiated off of him. “God, woman. You’re going to make me say it out loud? I… Just…. Don't do something he forces you to do. Call for me, and I’ll make sure you’re safe,” he grit out. Both of his hands were clenched in fists by his side, silently getting worked up.

“Oh… Oh. Well,” you snorted, a short laugh as you realized what he was so worried about. “Honestly, if it means that we can get the documents and get out of here, I don’t mind doing it. They’re kind of extremely important, y’know?”

You had never seen Zoro move so quickly, turning to face you in a split second. His eye glared at you, wide and intense. You could see the muscles in his jaw work as he ground his teeth together. It was as if his whole body was on high alert, and you blushed at his intensity. His mouth opened for a second, as if he was going to say something, but he closed it, jaw clenching again. You saw Zoro’s shoulders drop, his muscles relaxing slightly. His lip turned out in a small pout.

“Hmph… I… hmph. Just, call me if you feel like you’re in danger, okay?” You watched as he spun around, quickly hurrying away from the balcony. His shoes clacked on the stone and his white shirt flowed in the wind. You felt your stomach flutter watching him leave.

For a moment, you stood silently and stared out at the pine forest. Zoro’s reaction was hard to decipher, as much as you tried to understand it. Briefly, you wondered if he was jealous, but you brushed it aside. No way. As you made your way to the host’s study, nervousness rested heavily in your chest. Wanting to maintain your confident air, you straightened your shoulders and stood tall, steeling yourself for this interaction. You knocked on the study door and entered, unknowing of the swordsman lurking around the corner. 

~

About 30 minutes later, you emerge alone from the room. You habitually straightened your appearance since you were about to join the company again, which was not missed by Zoro who lingered nearby. He waited around the corner, not wanting to be seen accosting you, but knowing you’d run into him on your way back to the ballroom. As you turned the corner, found yourself face to face with the swordsman, jumping a little from the fright. 

“Oh! Zoro, you scared me,” you murmured, being startled by him for the second time this night. Zoro’s hand found the small of your back, ushering you in the direction of the crowd.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his mouth downturned and expression severe. “Come on. Did you get the maps?” Your heels clicked in tandem with his black boots on the floor. 

“Yes,” you nodded, eyes straying to look at his expression.

Zoro only hummed to acknowledge you, offering you his arm before entering the dance hall. For a moment, both of you stood there staring at each other. There was an indiscernible expression in Zoro’s eye. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, thinking, planning… he revealed nothing. 

You took his arm and followed his lead into the ballroom before parting ways. The intention was to split up and inform the crew about the completion of the mission. Weaving your way through the audience, you made contact with Robin before going to find Luffy. Zoro had made his way to find Sanji in the kitchen before reappearing. You searched around the ballroom for Luffy, unable to see his messy dark hair and bright smile, and worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Suddenly, there was a lot of commotion and clatter from the room adjacent to the one you were in. Your body froze, knowing that you were about to have to make a quick getaway, when you heard gunshots echoing through the halls. Just before you were about to make a decision, you made eye contact with Zoro from across the room. It’s as if your body moved on its own, sprinting towards him and grabbing his hand as he dragged you behind him to safety. If it hadn’t been for your panicked brain, you would’ve realized that Zoro was only going to get you guys lost, but you didn’t even consider it. Before long, you realized you didn’t recognize your surroundings anymore. You could still hear fighting, so you decided to duck into the first closet you saw to wait out the clamor. The abrupt stop and yank of Zoro into the closet had him off balance, and you couldn’t stop either of you before landing in a heap on some jackets. He reached behind him and slammed the door, and you winced knowing it would probably alert somebody of your presence in the area. You took stock of your situation, knowing that Luffy probably got you into said situation, and that people were probably scattering. You realized that you probably had to stay in the closet for a little while, with Zoro. Oh god, Zoro who currently had you pinned beneath him. 

You looked up, right into a piercingly dark eye that seemed to be taking you apart as you lay under him. Both your breathing and heartbeat increased, and you were suddenly very aware of the proximity to him. His eye roamed down your face, pausing for a second on your lips before traveling further. You felt it rake over your neck, lingering for a second before gazing unashamedly at your breasts. The dress you were wearing could be called revealing, showing lots of cleavage and giving the illusion that they were barely contained. You blushed as you felt him staring. 

“Z- Zoro?” You stammered out, “did you hit your head? You seem dazed.”

“No,” he replied. His voice was firm, confident, and it made you shiver. You watched his brows furrow slightly and his jaw clench.

You took a deep breath and tried once more. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head when we fell in here?” As your hand came up to check for any head wounds, it was stopped quickly when a large hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.

“No.” And this time you could tell he’s irritated. You swallowed thickly, nervous and shaking a little. The way he loomed over you made you feel like a prey animal, his demeanor dangerous in the same way he acts when he is facing down an enemy.

“Ah, Zor-”

“Shut. Up. Don’t fucking speak,” he grit out. He kept staring, unblinking, at your chest. You felt yourself start to shake, mind racing through all of the reasons he might be angry with you.

“Does it feel good? Huh?” Zoro snapped at you, his voice quiet and clipped. Your brows furrowed up at him, unsure to speak or be silent. The closet was way too small for the two of you right now, his energy emanating from him like flames. Zoro and you had always gotten along pretty well, often training together and napping together. He never used that tone of voice with you before. “Don’t play dumb with me, woman.” 

Zoro trapped you underneath him, his knees pinning the skirt of your dress. “You like playing dress up? Huh? You like when they look?” 

“Zoro, I-” 

You were cut off again, a gloved hand pressing into your cheeks. “Don’t. Talk,” he enunciated each word with a squeeze of his hand. “I saw you flirting with that man, giving him a show. He was fucking you with his eyes in the middle of that ballroom, and you were encouraging it. You like that? You want him?”

Desperately, you shook your head no. Your eyes were wide, trying to decipher his reaction. There was a certain hesitation in his actions, like he was trying to hold himself back. His shoulders and chest were tense, his jaw clenched and his breathing quick. 

For a moment, both of you just stare at each other, unsure what to do next before suddenly your mouths are crashing together. Zoro kissed with a desperation you’ve never felt before, like he’s trying to consume you. Both of your teeth clashed together, his tongue licking into your mouth. At that moment, everything was Zoro. His smell, his sounds, his touch, it changed you, like you've never been intimate with another person. The passion was a completely different caliber than you’ve ever felt before. Small whines and moans left your lips as Zoro kissed you, feeling completely at his mercy the way he pinned you beneath him.

“Ah, Zoro,” you whined as you felt his teeth scrape along your jawline.

Zoro pulled away from you, looking down at you. He scoffed, his brows furrowed. “Look at you. Listen to you. Fuck, in that fancy ass dress, wearing those ridiculous heels.” Embarrassment washed over your body, heating your skin from your cheeks down your chest. You felt yourself look away from Zoro’s gaze before his hand gripped your chin harshly. Zoro forced you to meet his eye again, his teeth bared. “As if you’re not the filthiest in the room, woman. Pretending you’re a lady, waving that stupid fan.” 

You felt Zoro’s hand move down your arm from where he was gripping your wrist, skimming over your peaked nipples, finding its place at your waist and squeezing. His smile was wicked, one side of his mouth curled up as he groped your body. The other hand found itself squeezing one of your breasts, thumb brushing over your nipple. A gasp escaped your lips as he touched you. “You like that, my lady?” He sneered, sarcastically and coldly.

“Zoro… please..” you whined.

“Zoro? Ha, I’m a gentleman, so I go by sir, remember?” He harshly pinched your nipple through your dress, eliciting a loud moan from you. One of his hands quickly clapped over your mouth, and Zoro tutted at you. “Ah ah, somebody might find us here, like this. Unless you want somebody to find us,” he teased. Zoro leaned down close to your ear, his lips brushing over your lobe. “Don’t let them hear. Those noises are only for me.” 

The top of your dress was yanked down harshly, and you heard the silken fabric tear. Before you could protest, his hands squeezed your breasts hard, pinching them in a way you know will leave a bruise. One of your hands came up to stifle your moans, your eyes watching him as he pinched your nipples harshly. 

“That dress was so fucking tight, your tits were spilling out,” he grit out. Zoro’s calloused hands played with your chest, pulling the skin between his index finger and thumb. “Couldn’t take my eyes off them all night… fuck.” His voice was breathy, needy as he touched you. A slicked strand of his hair fell from where it was stuck, the green hairs draping over his flushed face. His brow was furrowed in concentration, bottom lip sucked between his teeth.

“S- sir,” you whined, one of your hands moving to touch his arm. A small sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He gasped heavily as he ducked his head to your chest, burying it between your breasts.

Zoro’s mouth was hot and needy on you, licking and sucking the soft skin. He whined quietly against your skin as he sucked dark marks into your breast, not worrying about if they would be visible tomorrow or not. 

He began to bunch your skirt up around your hips, his knuckles grazing your bare thighs. You ground your teeth to keep yourself from whining when suddenly his mouth left your breast with a wet pop. It was filthy, the way his mouth was red and swollen from kissing and sucking you, the small string of spit that dripped from his bottom lip, his mussed up hair. The last thing you saw before he ducked under your skirt was a deadly smirk that shot arousal straight to your core.

You groaned and threw your head back when his hands gripped your thighs. Zoro licked a long, wet stripe up the inside of your leg before biting down on your inner thigh. He bit down hard, possessive, like he wanted his teeth marks to be a permanent scar in your skin. A moan escaped your mouth, and you could feel yourself blushing as wetness pooled between your legs. The delicate skin of your inner thighs was already bruising under his grip, and you felt Zoro smile against you. There was something about how easily your body responded to him that brought out something sadistic in him. 

Bright hickies bloomed on your thighs as his mouth and hands roamed the soft skin. Every once in a while, they would brush against your panties, making you whine. The way Zoro took his time had you desperate and needy for him. Your body started relaxing as he kissed you, his nose every so often brushing over the wet spot in your panties. The swordsman gripped your legs, keeping them from shaking, before biting down especially hard on the meat of your thigh. It broke skin, the intensity of which he bit you, and you could feel his tongue laving over the marks. You cried out before clapping a hand over your mouth, face flushed and chest heaving. The swordsman relished in your cries, suckling the spot he had broken skin. He moved to the other thigh, sucking dark marks all over. His mouth was so close to your core, that you could feel his warm breath fanning over your clothed cunt. 

You were broken out of the moment by loud footsteps outside the closet door. The breath caught in your throat and your heart skyrocketed. Getting caught with Zoro at all was not good, but getting caught like this was a nightmare scenario. You tapped on Zoro through the silk of your dress to stop and come out. His head peaked out from your thighs, and for a moment he turned away from you to grab something. Zoro returned to you, his head coming up next to your ear with a low chuckle. His gloved hand gripped your cheeks, forcing you to open your mouth before your fan was shoved between your teeth, like a horse with a bit in its mouth. “Don’t make a fucking noise, unless you want to get caught,” he whispered to you, his smile devious. The swordsman licked against your neck before disappearing again under your skirt.

He brushed against the damp spot on your panties as he smirked into your thigh. You could feel how red your face was, equal parts turned on and terrified of somebody hearing you and opening the closet door. Both of your hands gripped your skirt and you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, trying to focus and not make a sound. Your teeth ground down against the wooden fan between your jaws. Zoro knew how to tease you, how to coax sweet sounds from you, and he wasn’t holding back his efforts.

One of his fingers pushed aside your panties, and you felt him blow a stream of cold air against your core. You grit your teeth and cursed him in your head as you clenched down around nothing. A shiver wracked your body, and Zoro chuckled lowly between your thighs. He just barely skimmed his gloved index finger against your slit, causing your toes to curl. You felt him hum against you, his tongue licking your thigh as he slowly pressed the finger into you. It started slowly, gently pumping in and out as you tried not to give away your presence. 

You jumped when you suddenly felt Zoro’s tongue on your cunt, licking up from where his finger entered you to your clit. He licked against you, flattening his tongue against your lips in lazy strokes. The tip of his tongue flicked your clit every time he reached the top of your slit, building pleasure in your body. It radiated through you in waves as you tried to contain your voice. The steps outside seemed to pace as if they were searching the area. Your hand clutched your mouth, over the fan even, eyebrows drawn tight in desperation. Zoro’s finger curled in your cunt, pressing against the spongy wall and causing your mouth to open briefly and almost drop the fan. Your hands gripped your silken dress, pleasure wracking your body.

Zoro ate you like a starved man, sloppy and needy. You could feel the mix of his spit and your drooling cunt run down your ass, and you flushed with how filthy you felt. Heat nestled in your core and you felt your orgasm building every time Zoro brushed against your clit. Close, so so close, you cried in your head. Gritting your teeth, you resisted the urge to beg for him to keep going, keeping yourself from making noise. Tears slid down your cheeks as you came, throwing your head back in a silent cry. Zoro smirked against you as he felt you clench down around his finger, fucking you through your orgasm to the point of overstimulating you. He never let up, even after your orgasm had finished and you were squirming from the intense sensation.

As if Zoro had been listening for the person outside the door, as soon as their footsteps drew away from the closet, he bit down on your thigh hard again. At the same time, he added a second finger and fucked them into you with more intensity. There was no reprieve from him, he wanted to fuck you stupid. The fan fell from your mouth as your mouth dropped open. A deep moan escaped your lips at the dual sensations of pleasure and pain, as the green haired man licked the bite. 

Zoro drew back from your legs, looking at you intensely. The absolute feral look in his eye made your stomach churn with something primal. He smiled, his sharp canines gleaming dangerously with a bit of your blood. A pink tongue quickly swiped over them, cleaning his teeth with a deep groan. You watched his gloved hand come up to his mouth as he bit down on one of the fingers, yanking the glove off. “Wanna feel you bare,” he stated evenly, pulling the other glove off as well. 

One of his hands came up to grip the back of your neck, slamming you into a bruising kiss. The other of his hands roamed your body, finding a place on your breast to fondle you greedily. He pinched your nipple and massaged you tightly, breaking off the kiss to breathe. Zoro’s forehead rested against your neck, and you could feel him whine softly against you. You pressed your leg up between his thighs, feeling his hard cock against you. Slowly and languidly, he rutted against you. He whined and panted as he thrusted against your leg, growing more needy and desperate by the minute. Both of his brows pinched together and a bead of sweat gathered near his temple. 

Suddenly, he bit down on your neck, sucking a dark mark under your ear. His thrusts became more desperate, a growl escaping his throat. Zoro pulled back, his hands coming down to your hips.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait,” he bit out, his hands grabbing at your panties and tearing the silk fabric. Zoro was impatient, desperate at this point. He grabbed the waist on his own pants, not bothering to unbutton the two rows of golden buttons. One quick yank sent buttons flying around the closet, clattering against the walls. His chest heaved with want, his hands quick to free himself from his pants. Zoro rested back on his feet, pumping his cock with a groan as he looked down at you. His eye was dark, almost glazed over with want.

With one hand, he gripped your waist, hard and bruising. Using the other, he lined himself up with your hole. He barely gave you any time to breathe before bullying his cock into your cunt, sinking deep into you in a fluid motion. A cry escaped your lips as your back arched, your jaw open and gasping. His cock was large, girthy and long, and it stretched you so well. Your body clenched down hard around him, causing him to shudder and grit his teeth. Zoro breathed out slowly, bending down and resting his hands on either side of your head. 

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, thrusting shallowly inside you. His teeth skimmed your jawline as he lowered himself onto his elbows, your chests pressing together. It felt to you like he was taking up every sense, as if he was all you could experience in this moment. Nothing outside of this closet even existed to you anymore. He bit down on your neck, at the spot where it joins with your shoulder, and you moaned loudly.

“Aah, Zoro, feels good,” you mumble out, your mind dazed from the mix of pain and pleasure his mouth gave you. 

He thrusted into you with a hard and punctuating rhythm, emphasizing his words. “Haa, yeah? Better,” thrust “than that no good,” thrust “stuck up,” thrust “host?” 

“Wh- what?” You whined when his hands tangled in the back of your hair, forcing you to look up at him. His brows were furrowed. 

“Say it,” he growled, glaring down at you. Your breath caught in a strangled sound when he thrusted deep into you, holding himself there. The head of his cock was bruising against your cervix, and you squirmed with the mix of sensations. It was overstimulating, and you whimpered under him. 

“Zoro, sir, move. Please,” you begged. Tears sprung to your eyes as you tried to move against him. One of his hands flew to your waist, gripping it firmly and holding you still. You cursed him silently for being so strong. 

“I’m not moving until you say it.”

“Say what?,” you cried, your eyes searching his face wildly. His jaw clenched in irritation.

“Say that I fuck you better than he ever could,” he ordered. Zoro’s chest heaved with his breath, you could tell he was barely containing himself. His bicep flexed and you felt his grip tighten on your waist.

“God, yes. You fuck me better than he ever could, you feel so amazing. Please fuck me, please,” you begged, desperation dripping from your cries.

A predatory grin spread across his face with your words, his eye crinkling with pleasure. “That’s my girl,” he praised, lips ghosting across your cheek. Zoro pressed his lips against yours and rose up, grabbing your waist with both hands and dragging his cock out of you slowly. As you looked up at him, you shuddered at the fierceness of his expression. 

His thumbs brushed against your skin before slamming you down on his cock with abandon, thrusting into you repeatedly. Zoro watched as your tits bounced, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he concentrated. Your hands clenched the fabric under you as he fucked you hard, and you watched as his blouse rode up as he moved, his abs flexing with each thrust. 

You cried for him, his cock battering your poor cunt. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you up roughly to slam his mouth against yours. He kissed you insistently as he fucked you, before removing himself and turning you over onto your stomach. Your dress piled around you as he dragged it up, exposing your ass to him. He gripped one of your asscheeks in his hand, pinching hard. The hand dipped under your abdomen to pull you onto your knees, and he sheathed himself back in you. The new angle was world shattering, every thrust bumping deep inside you, causing your legs to shake and breath to catch. 

Zoro’s hand gripped your hair, dragging your back to his chest. His teeth sunk into your shoulder, breaking the skin as he thrusted into you from behind. You felt him as he licked the bite mark, moaning as your blood stained his tongue. He was relentless, slamming into you over and over. At the same time, his voice was like honey as he moaned into your ear.

“That’s fucking right,” he grunted. “You take me so well.” Nobody had ever fucked you so well before, pleasure spiking through your body. He fucked you like he knew you could take it, like a bit of roughness wouldn’t break you. Pain blossomed through your ass as he smacked it harshly, causing your cunt to clench down. “Nobody can fuck you like this,” he promised. “Only me.” 

You mumbled incoherently, the feelings of pleasure and need causing you to feel brainless and light. Zoro’s hand pressed you into the pile of coats underneath you, his hand on the back of your head. The pressure you felt from his hand was so good, rendering you immobile. The other hand on your waist pulled you back into him as he fucked you. You felt yourself drooling into the fabric under you, drunk on the pleasure. Everything was Zoro, from the feeling of his hands on you and the way his cock dragged in your cunt, to his leathery perfume, to the sounds of his groaning and skin slapping together.

The pleasure built in you again with each thrust, and you trembled with overexertion and overstimulation. Zoro’s hand moved from your head to snake past your waist to your clit. Never once did his thrusts let up, his endurance endless. Small, quick circles were rubbed on your clit with his first two fingers. 

“Zoro please, please please, fuck,” you mumbled, pleasure reaching deeply into your fingers and toes. 

“Let go, cum around my cock. Wanna feel you,” he mumbled out. His voice was less demanding now, more needy. The swordsman rubbed your clit insistently, and your orgasm hit you gradually, washing through you in hot waves of pleasure. You moaned as you came, feeling your body weaken like jelly.

Zoro fucked you through your second orgasm, his thrusts hard and erratic. He held you up, both hands on your waist. You could hear his breath stuttering, his voice tight and strained. “Haa… Gonna… Cum in you… Make you mine…” he grit out, leaning forward to kiss and bite at your shoulders. 

You cried out as his teeth sank into your flesh, Zoro groaning loudly. His cock slammed as far in your cunt as it could go, emptying himself into you as he came. The man licked at the bite mark and he mumbled against your skin as he kissed your shoulder blades. He pulled out of you, and you whimpered at the loss of fullness. 

For a moment, you didn’t move and neither did Zoro, watching his cum dribble out of your cunt with a smirk. You heard him hum, before feeling his hands flip you over to look at him. He looked at your messed up hair and smudged makeup, also noting the tear in the bodice of your dress before snorting. “Oops,” he laughed, obviously sarcastic. You were so fucked out that you didn’t even care how much of a mess you two looked, seeing his appearance sort of mirroring your own. “C’mere.”

Zoro gathered you up to him, kissing your hair and smiling affectionately. It was too late to go back now, not that you’d want anything to be different. “Now, I just gotta figure out how to get my girl outta here safely,” he chuckled.

[fanaticsnail]

The Duality of Sir Crocodile

Synopsis: The duality of a dominating gentleman. Spoiling and endearing, encumbering and brutal.

Themes: Nsfw, mdni, nothing too crass but a content warning all the same. Sir Crocodile x gn!reader.

Notes: needed to get these thoughts out of my head. Might turn it into a full fic one day. Less than 100 words, just thoughts.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @carrotsunshine @i-am-vita @gingernut1314 @mfreedomstuff

Sir Crocodile, both romantic and intentional. Serviceful and obedient out of blind devotion for you. Shopping trips, spoiling you with his ever expanding wealth and refusing for you to lift a single finger to help carry the smallest of trinkets home with him.

Sir Crocodile, both worshipful and feral. Unbridled and unrestrained out of blind devotion for you. Rough treatment, overstimulating you with his vicious pace and refusing to let up for even a moment as he brings you to the blissful ignition of another orgasm with him. 

[licorice-tea]

Duty At The Expense Of Desire

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: mild cursing, lots of arguing between reader and Law, reader is nervous to be in a relationship, platonic luffy and reader <3, reader loves the strawhats a lot :)

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: i spent so long just rereading this, i don’t know why but it feels kind of hard to understand? so i might revise it again in the future idk yet! i hope you enjoy reading, again this is very very loosely based on kate and anthony’s season in bridgerton! it was originally going to be 2 parts, but it’s looking like a full on series now… lmk if you want to be tagged in future parts! enjoy! <3

Part 2 | Part 4

Now that your feelings for Law have been revealed- not only to him but to yourself- you find the tension between the two of you is undeniably different from before.

What were once looks of contempt now harbor some quiet desire. Chances of accidentally brushing shoulders when you pass by each other are avoided altogether, for fear of fueling a fire neither of you know how to deal with. And any crass or biting quips are cut out of your minimal interactions completely, as you both now feel they come off as flirtatious rather than standoffish.

A few days have gone by since you confronted Law and he admitted his true feelings for you, all of which have been spent at sea. Nami says there won’t be an island to dock at for at least another three days, given how the weather is slowing the ship, so your crew’s only source of entertainment is each other.

“Y/n,” she asks while the two of you along with Robin relax on the deck, “what happened between you and Traffy the other day?”

Your breath hitches and you cough unnecessarily, already giving away your nervousness to the two very observant women. “Uh, not much.”

“Well, what did you two talk about? You didn’t come back to the table after, so I thought you must have stayed together…” Robin smiles softly, baiting you to reveal more.

“What? No, no, oh my god no… We just…”

Nami urges you on with a sing-song voice; “You just?”

“We… talked.”

“Talked about what?”

“I don’t know. Our issues with each other.”

“And you resolved them?”

“Come on, y/n, tell us what happened!”

“Nothing happened.”

You stand up then, too annoyed to continue talking to your friends. It’s not even their fault really; you would want to know what had gone on too, if the roles were reversed. Maybe you’re just annoyed with yourself for not being able to face your own feelings.

~

With no particular destination in mind, you find yourself in the Thousand Sunny’s library. When you open the door, you see Law browsing the selection of books your crew has accumulated throughout your travels. You shouldn’t be surprised to see him, but you are.

That’s what it must be; what other reason could there be for the sudden raving of your heart and your breath hitching? Any feelings you ever had for him were buried deep inside after last night; too deep to allow yourself to feel them to the extent you were currently, and so these must all be signs of surprise.

You steel yourself and walk in, letting the door close behind you. Law looks up to find out who the person intruding on his studying is, but his eyes are blown wide when he makes eye contact with you. Neither of you speaks as you turn away and cross the room in quick strides to another section of the library.

“Stupid Law,” you think as you try to calm your mind- an impossible task when he’s standing anywhere in the same room. “Stupid weather,” preventing you from getting to an island so you can get some damn space from him. “Stupid library, ” because of its shelves that make it all too easy and tempting to peak through and catch a glimpse of him.

Actually, maybe that’s not too risky of an idea. Cautiously, you bend down slightly and pretend to scan the titles on the shelf. You allow your eyes to slowly wander off the books until you can see Law by peering upwards. But low and behold, he’s staring right back at you.

You gasp and stand up straight, silently cursing your silly plan.

“Y/n.” He walks over to you, 2 books tucked under his arm. “l was under the impression you wanted me to keep your distance from me.”

“I do.”

“I find that hard to believe with the way you’ve been acting around me.”

“It’s just weird. You made me admit that I had feelings for you, and now things are weird.”

“I made you? You didn’t have to say anything, you could’ve rejected me and we both would’ve moved on.”

“I did reject you.”

“By telling me you feel the same? That’s some rejection.”

“You shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.”

“I had to, you told me that you thought I hated you.”

“But I didn’t make you say that you have feelings for me, and so now you’ve made it impossible to ignore.”

“Believe me, I tried to ignore it. To ignore you. It was pointless.”

“Then you weren’t trying hard enough. I could’ve gone a lifetime without bringing up the way I feel for you if it means my crew will be able to continue this alliance for our goals.”

“Don’t give me that shit, your captain made this alliance because he thinks we’re friends. You seriously think he had a goal in mind while doing so?”

With a roll of your eyes, you cross your arms over your chest. “Maybe not, but Luffy is the captain- I trust him, and so I follow him in any endeavor he believes in.”

“Well, I’m the captain of my own crew, and I believe that whatever we have going on is a little more than ally-ship.”

“Regardless of whatever is going on between us, is it really a smart idea to complicate such an important alliance?”

“…No. I suppose it’s not.”

“Then drop it-” You turn, ready to forget about this conversation and continue hiding your feelings away when he grabs your wrist.

“But they wouldn’t care, y/n, and you know that. Your crew thrives on-” he gestures vaguely with his free hand, “-friendship and rainbows and joy.”

Shaking off a smile, you bite back. “That might be true, but you know what’s even more important to my crew? Protecting each other. They wouldn’t like me being with you; even if we are temporary allies, you’re a Captain of another crew and one of the Supernovas. So don’t tell me what they would and wouldn’t be ok with.”

Law seems to think for a second before he releases your wrist. “Hmph.”

Finally, you take your leave to find somewhere- with no Law and no watchful friends- to just think.

~

You settle on the bow of the ship. If you had an ability like Luffy’s or any guarantee that you wouldn’t slip right off and into the sea, you would like to sit on the masthead of the Sunny. A clear, unobstructed view of the world ahead, and the breeze to keep the hair out your eyes could be so peaceful. But, this has some sort of charm to it as well; you do seem to love a challenge (even if it’s one as simple as having to lean over the railing of a ship to see the horizon).

With a cheerful call, the man you had just been thinking of joins you on the railing by the ship’s bow. Luffy speaks animatedly of his plans for all sorts of things, but during a lull in conversation, he asks you something unexpected.

“Do you love him?”

“What?”

“Traffy! Do you love him?”

“I…”

“You’ve said how much you hate him, but that just means your feelings for him are strong. So you love him, right?”

You’ve never been more bothered to hear Luffy say something so uncharacteristically observant.

“I love you guys.”

He hums. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t love other people, too.”

“…I won’t ever leave this crew, Luffy.”

“Of course you won’t!” He latches onto you in an iron-grip hug, and you smile ever so slightly. “But, y/n.”

“Yeah?”

He releases you and instead grabs your shoulders to talk to you face to face. His face seems especially serious- the same way it does when he makes a bold declaration of his dreams or beliefs. “If you love someone, you tell them. You don’t hide it, because you never know when they could be gone.”

Finally, your barely-there smile opens into a full grin. “When did you get to be so wise?”

Luffy shrugs. “Shanks told me that once, I just felt it made sense for you too.”

You and your captain stay there a while longer, giggling over this and that until the sun starts to set on the horizon.

“I'm gonna go sit on Sunny- you wanna come with me?”

Though you’d been fantasizing over what it would feel like up there just a few minutes ago, you shake your head. “No thanks. But, uh, Luffy?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you… not tell anyone about what we talked about?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, for sure!”

You would come to regret being so vague with your captain, even if he does occasionally display astonishing emotional intelligence.

~

At dinner- where there’s always something going on- you make an effort to sit far from Law. Your attempt is in vain, however, as he ends up right across from you. Luffy sits to your left, and while he takes a small break from stuffing his mouth, he nudges you with his elbow.

Your eyes meet your captain’s as he winks at you, then looks over at Law, and back to you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he had some sort of… plan in the works. With a wide grin, he asks, “Soooo Y/n, when are you and Traffy going to get married?”

A moment of silence passes before laughter erupts around the table from everyone except you and “Traffy.” The latter covers his face with one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose while you look simply horrified.

What had happened to not speaking of your earlier conversation? Admittedly, you had spoken of several subjects after your discussion of your feelings for Law… and knowing Luffy, he could have mistaken your vow of silence to be for any one of those subjects.

Since you’re sure your captain didn’t mean to embarrass you with his straightforward view of relationships, you just shake your head and give a muttered response. “We- we’re not, um, going to….”

Law, on the other hand, appears too bothered to stick around and listen to any more jokes. He stands abruptly and disappears in a flash of blue light.

You stick around long enough to finish your plate, then thank Sanji and leave quietly. Some unknown force draws you to Law, when you see him in Nami’s little grove of orange trees. Cautiously, you approach him.

“…Law? I- I’m sorry about that. I don’t know why Luffy said that.”

“It was embarrassing.”

“Okay, Law, they were all just joking. And I can’t even really blame them, because this entire situation is pretty fucking ridiculous.”

“No, y/n, it’s embarrassing that everybody knows how I feel and that you feel the same, and they’re all happy with the idea of us together, but you still don’t want to be with me.”

“It’s not personal, you know that.”

“How can it not be personal?”

“Everything I do is for my crew. I have a duty to them, and not even you or my own feelings will get in the way of that.”

“Do you seriously still believe that they would care if we were together?”

You purse your lips.

“I took your word for it at first, because you know your own crew better than I do, but clearly they have very little regard for what we do. Now I am inclined to believe that you made it up when you said they wouldn’t like us being… being something. And as foolish as I feel after believing that ridiculous excuse, I still want you, y/n. Tell me you want me too.”

“How much?” You ask with a fierce look.

“How much what?”

“How much do you want me, Law? You keep talking about your feelings for me, but you haven’t even said what they are.”

Again, you seem to find any way to continue arguing with the man before you as a means of releasing pent-up feelings. Just kissing him might be easier, but also a whole lot more terrifying and uncertain.

“Desire, attraction, whatever you want to call it-“

“Well, I’m not going to put everything on the line for someone who is attracted to me.”

“It’s more than that, you know that-“

“You know what I think?”

“…What?”

“I think that you can’t even admit to yourself- let alone aloud- the extent of your feelings for me. You want me to say it first so that nothing bad will happen if you put yourself out there, and that’s not going to happen.”

“I-“ He starts to speak, but can’t think of a rebuttal. You have him pegged. “I may not know exactly what my feelings are yet, but I can feel them, y/n. You remain on my mind constantly- so if you want me to stop feeling for you, then you need to stop.”

“Oh, I need to stop?”

“Yes, you-“

“You’re the one constantly making me reconsider everything I tell myself. You are the one who needs to stop.”

“Before what? Before we give in to this… obvious desire, and put aside duties to do something for ourselves?”

Heavy breathing fills the silence. He always manages to rile you up, and you can’t stand it.

“You should go. No, in fact,” you raise your hands in a gesture of surrender, “I’ll go.”

Without giving him the chance to respond, you flee down the stairs to the main deck and through the doors to the cabin hall. All this back and forth with Law is giving you a headache.

You can’t deny it any longer though; now that your captain knows too, it’s like you’ve spoken it into permanent existence. You’re in love with Law, and there’s next to nothing stopping you from being with him in the way you truly desire. Not even your sense of duty.

You should never have counted on the Strawhats to hold you back from something- or someone you love.

Taglist: @augustanna @lavanderdreamve @pinksaiyans @khaleesihavilliard @jennapancake @pinki-minki @loserbee14

[lizzy-bonnet]

I love Jane Austen's work and I love podcasts, so naturally I follow several JA podcasts (please drop recs in the tags). I'm enjoying Live from Pemberley from Hot and Bothered, but a comment from literally the first episode of the series has been circulating in my brain since I listened to it several months ago: one of the hosts expressed surprise (and disappointment?) in the fact that when we first meet Lizzy, she is "employed in trimming a hat". This comment literally comes right after a conversation about how Austen tells us so much in the very short space of Chapter 1; without wasting any words, we know exactly who Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are (lightly toxic relationship), understand their family situation (need to marry well), meet the main driver of the first act (rich man in the neighbourhood), and understand a social dilemma (girls can't meet him if Mr. Bennet does not make the first overture). So what is Austen telling us when we meet Lizzy in the employment of trimming a hat?

We so often read a sort of modern girlboss feminism into Lizzy because she is smart and stands up for herself, but I think that's something that really gets embroidered on to the text. Lizzy trimming a bonnet is telling us several things about her:

She is frugal - new hats and bonnets are really expensive (my casual hobby is shopping for reproduction bonnets and this remains true), because the straw is braided by hand, the bonnet shape is assembled and blocked by hand, feathers have to be gathered from real (living or dead) birds, ribbons and flowers are hand-finished, the whole situation is fuck expensive. Lizzy is most likely putting new trim on a straw or wool bonnet she already owns to make it work better for this season's fashions, or a new dress, and possibly recycling trimmings from other hats. Contrast this with Lydia's spending all her pocket money on an ugly hat in Chapter 39, just so she can reduce it to parts, even though she acknowledges she'll also have to buy some extra satin too, to finish the project.

She cares about fashion - we don't get a lot of information on sartorial choices in Austen's work, and when characters are discussing fashion, it tends to be a framework for explaining something about their characters; Miss Steele's need to know how much Marianne's dresses cost (rude, crass); Mrs. Bennet's loving description of the lace on Mrs. Hurst's gown (shallow); Catherine Moreland's agonizing over what to wear to the Assembly (young, a bit flighty); Bingley wears a blue coat (has probably read The Sorrows of Young Werther, is fashionable). The fact that Lizzy is trimming a hat tells us she is fashionable, but paired with the fact that she will get a petticoat muddy in order to see her sister, and does not spend a lot of time worrying after fashion like Lydia tells us that she does not live and die on fashion.

She is creative - I've trimmed various hats and bonnets over my years of interest in historical fashion and honestly it's not easy. It's quite fiddly to get a nice ribbon edge, a ruched lining takes forever, and getting sprays of florals and feathers to be nicely shaped and all in a complementary palette is quite fussy. Getting a nice looking bonnet requires some thinking and planning. But it's also great fun! The Regency era is, in my opinion, a particularly good period for hats.

She is normal - I think Austen wants the reader to understand that Lizzy is a young woman with normal cares and concerns. She doesn't have cash for a new bonnet, she wants to look nice, she knows how to put an outfit together, she's not frivolous like her sisters, and she engages in the typical pursuits of someone who is not yet one and twenty who does not have a specific occupation.

A lot of modern readers are expecting Lizzy to be striding around the countryside unconcerned with "girly" things, or reading a clever book because we have come to think of her as proto-feminist in a way that suggests she might be a bra (corset) burner, but I think that comes from an outdated feminist lens that still wants to tell us that girly things are bad, or at least, a bit weak, and I don't see that in the text at all (I think some of this trickles over from the adaptations). Lizzy walks enthusiastically, she enjoys reading (but not to the exclusion of other employments), she dances very well and plays with mediocrity, she cares deeply about her friends and family, she has excellent manners, and dammit, she trims hats.

[xetswan]

The Switch Of Daylight- Reincarnate pt. 1

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[five] [six] [seven]

Bella was currently getting ready for the night of shopping with Jessica. I sat in her chair, watching her. She obviously was forcing herself to do this but I was proud nonetheless. I know how much this is probably taking out of her. She looks at me with her eyebrows furrowed. “What?” She suddenly speaks and I tilt my head. “What?” I repeat back to her. “Why are you looking at me like that.” She questions me. “Because I can?” I stand up, smiling in an annoying way on purpose. “Well, knock it off weirdo.” She throws a pillow at me from her bed, which was easily caught in my hands. I gently toss it back onto the mattress. “Shouldn’t you get going? That movie is in like 30 minutes.” I point out to her, changing the subject.

“Oh, I didn’t even notice.” She lets out a loud sigh, messing with her hair before grabbing a few things. “Uh, do you think you can come with?” She asks, a hand in her back pocket. “Jessica might get upset if I tag along.” I start to think about it. “More the reason to come, I guess.” I shrug my shoulders as Bella rolls her eyes trying to hold back a laugh. “C’mon, [Name].” She shakes her head, she turns her lights off and we head out.

We exit a theater, just getting done watching some Zombie film, I wasn’t really paying attention. A smell was bothering me the entire time and I couldn’t even tell what it was. “I don’t get why there are so many zombie movies.” Bell states out loud, and it sounds kind of muffled at first when she speaks. “It’s, like, a metaphor? For crass consumerism or something.” Jessica says and both Bella and I glance at her then at each other. “Not that you’d know anything about consuming, Bella. You didn’t buy anything. Surprisingly [Name] did.” Jessica announces, slightly lifting my bag that holds a few clothing pieces. “I bought something.” Bella argues. “Socks don’t count. ‘Course I was surprised you even called.” The girl says truthfully. “I’ve been kind of out of it.” Kind of? Girl was in mourning. “Kind of? I mean, at first I was worried. Then I’m like okay, she’s still bumming? It’s not like I wasn’t going through things too. Like Mike deciding he wanted to “just be friends?” That was really hard and…” Wow… way to make things about herself, Jesus Christ. “How ‘bout a ride girls?” A guy questions from across the street. “How about you fuck yourself?” I flip him off, Jessica and I start to walk off, listening to the guys whistle and talk about my little comment. “Come on.” Jessica tries to pull on Bella to follow with us. “I know them… I think.” Bella mutters and my eyes widen then give her a dirty look. “Bella Swan, come on right now.” I fold my arms. “Can we just go-“ Jessica pulls at her arm but it’s shrugged off. “I want to see something.” Bella walks away from us. Jessica and I watch my sister go up to these guys and I notice her heart speeds up and then for split seconds it has a weird beat to it. Her body stops realizing something. I don’t listen to the guys speak, just focusing on Bella’s movements and her heartbeat. Bella climbs onto the bike and I stiffen up .”Bella!” The bike already went to a movement and then I hear Bella tell the man to wait. Then she screams at him to stop and he does so, of course with a stupid ass comment. She scrambles off and comes back up to us. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Jessica storms up to Bella, meeting her halfway. I pinch my nose bridge shaking my head. “I saw something.” Bella was really just speaking to herself. “You are insane. Or suicidal.” Jessica walks in front of us. I observe my sister. “The more dangerous… the more real it was.”

“So, what, you’re like an adrenaline junky now? Go hang-gliding or bungee-jumping. Don’t be a complete freak.” Jessica tells my sister and Bella looks over at me to which I shake my head at her. “That was not okay.” I point to her chest, walking ahead with Jessica.

The next day I decided to do some research on a few things. I guess Bella went to the rez. I would’ve gone if it wouldn’t have been awkward around Sam now. Charlie’s been getting phone calls from Sam every two hours it seems. He’s been practically begging me to just answer it but I have nothing to say to the guy. I scrolled on my laptop, trying to find the myths of the Quileute tribe. Only to find the same ones over and over again about werewolves. I rolled my eyes, accidentally slamming the laptop closed, standing up as I do so. “Shit.” I mutter, I’m gonna have to go to the library the Quileute people have. And usually I get stares from the older generations because they can sense what I am somehow.

Placing my hands on my hips I think about what I’m going to do. Staring at the window I could sneak out of or just tell my dad the truth about where I’m going. I close my eyes and listen in on my dads heartbeat from the other room. It was steady and slowed. Definitely sleeping. That means I have about an hour until he wakes up to try to figure out dinner or whatever. I hurry out of the window and get my motorcycle. Since it’s going to make noise I glance around to see if anyone would be outside. Seeing as it’s clear I rush it down the road before starting it up and speeding down. Hearing the roar of it speed up made me think back to the feeling of jumping off that cliff. The little things that almost make me feel human.

I had to snap out of my thoughts before I get carried away and forget where I was going. Pulling into a parking spot I stared at the building in front of me. Bella said she went here before when she was trying to find out about the Cullens before. I got off my bike and slowly made my way to the building, looking around feeling something watching me. Trying to shake the feeling, I enter the library with a smile. The lady at the front desk goes to smile back but once she looks at me directly her face falls slightly. “Do you have any books on the myths of the incarnates?” I speak up, patiently waiting for her to calm herself down. “Yes, who is it for?” She questions me to which I raise a brow to. Taken a back obviously. “Myself? I am interested in knowing more about them.” I try to give her a smile again but she just gives a dirty look, walking to the back. Knowing she’s not going to want me to follow I just stand still. Moments later she comes back with two books in hand. “Here, books are usually taken out for two weeks, most I can give is maybe three. Unless you’re looking to purchase.” She doesn’t look me in the eye anymore. I figured that’s the response I would’ve gotten. I’m not an idiot. “Two weeks is fine.” I tell her. “Name.”

“[Name] Swan.” I can be just as short too but that’s not how I am. I stick with my sickly sweet attitude and still have a smile on my face. These people obviously have their myths for a reason. I’m not upset that she’s treating me like this because I have no idea the extent of what the vampires have done to her ancestors and others. “Email.” I give the rest of my information out to her and tell her to have a goodnight as I leave. Barely getting a mumble out in return.

I get on my bike, still feeling this odd sense of being watched I look around again. What the hell is going on? I speed off, going around people who decide they should walk in the middle of the road and not on the side walks. Of course getting middle fingers, I do it back.

Getting back to the house I sneak back into my window, hearing my dad’s heart beat still slow and steady I know he hasn’t even woken up. I close my window and turn on my bright ass light that’s on my ceiling. I stare at the books that now lay on my bed, wondering what I’m even going to find out.

I opened the first one. It’s definitely older. I feel like I shouldn’t even be able to hold this in my possession. My eyes scan the first page. The title sending shivers down my spine, “Reincarnate of Gods.”

For hours I read each page, observed each picture, reread many lines and paragraphs. Listening to my sister come through the front door didn’t even faze me. Along with my dad coming into my room numerous times just to stare at me. Not one word was said to me. Not even for dinner for some reason. Maybe he thinks I’m reading for school. Who knows.

I started writing down the information I was getting from the books as well. Knowing that I’m going to have to speak with Billy Black after this. There’s no way I can understand most of this on my own. Like how it says it’s a descendant from the Gods then to the Quileutes. I’m confused to say the least.

I then should’ve been an incarnate for Wolves. And if that’s true I can’t be a vampire. And I am. Most definitely am.

Sorry Tumblr is acting up I had to delete the last one. This one’s editing is a little worse but there’s really not much I can do🙄

[starryeyedjanai]

surface-level freak

kinktober prompts: teratophilia, rimming, prostitution (3 for 3 today!) explicit | 7k tags: werewolf eddie, transmasc human steve, full shift werewolf sex, vaginal and anal sex, creampie, come eating, somnophilia, little bit of spit kink and crying notes: full tags and cw are on ao3, but the gist is steve gets fucked by eddie while eddie is a fully shifted werewolf

read on AO3

This isn't exactly where Steve thought he'd end up in life, but he's absolutely not complaining.

What started as a desperate need for money after being disowned has turned into something he thinks he'd do for the rest of his life if he can.

The first time he gave a, probably subpar, blowjob in exchange for cash, he'd been scared out of his mind, dropping to his knees and trying to remember what Tommy liked the few times they had fooled around.

The first time he had a werewolf client, he didn't know that it would become his niche, his specialty, but it did. He took his first knot and took it well, and got paid handsomely for it.

That guy had friends, other werewolves who were lonely and yearning for someone to sit pretty on their knot, and a lot of them had the money to pay for it.

And so started his career.

Steve Harrington, Werewolf Fucker.

He thinks he should be able to put that on his business card, but Robin says it's a little crass.

He's on his way to meet a new client for the first time - a famous client, if his connection is telling the truth.

He's only a tiny bit wary, phone in his hand poised and ready to hit his proverbial panic button should he need it. Not that he thinks one of his clients would lie, necessarily, but when he said he had a famous werewolf that might be interested, Steve was imagining some commercial model or something, not Eddie Fucking Munson from Corroded Coffin.

He gets to the cafe and finds it eerily empty when he steps inside. It's nine in the morning on a Tuesday - people should be standing in line waiting to get their coffee. Which tells him this is the real deal.

Eddie Munson meeting him in a crowded cafe seemed like an odd choice when he texted him that they needed to meet somewhere in public first.

There's one table occupied when he scans the room and he marches over to it.

"You know, part of the reason for meeting in public is so that I'm not alone with a new client I don't know," he says, sitting down across from Eddie.

Eddie pushes his sunglasses up and back, pulling his hair out of his face.

"I couldn't really meet you here without having the place empty," he says with a grimace. "My fans are great, but I didn't exactly want to be talking with you while also trying to sign autographs."

Steve can appreciate that, he guesses. Still.

"You should have told me." He doesn't like not having the upper hand, especially with new people.

"Sorry," Eddie says sheepishly. "If it helps, my guy and your friend are standing right by the door."

Steve looks back and sees Robin and the tallest guy he's ever seen standing in front of the entrance. Robin waves when they lock eyes. Steve waves back, letting her know it's all good.

"Okay, fine. Apology accepted. Robin told you my rates. What were you thinking?" he asks, getting to business.

Eddie looks at him seriously and says, "Knotting, of course."

"Of course." People didn't come to him and pay his rates for nothing - knotting is par for the course.

"I was thinking the 17th. I leave for tour on the 19th, but I have no time between now and then to spend a whole night with you."

The whole night, Steve thinks. God, he's in for a treat. Most of his clients have him for a few hours, long enough to fuck him and knot him, sometimes long enough to spend a while cuddling after, but a whole night is going to absolutely fuck him up. He'll have to tell Robin not to schedule anything the few days after that.

When Steve doesn't say anything, Eddie continues. "And since it's the whole night, I want both of your holes." Steve tries to suppress the shiver that makes its way through his body at the sound of Eddie's voice. "I'll want to rim you, get you ready for me. And I'll probably want to eat you out after I come in you."

"That all sounds good. If you knot me twice in a row, I might fall asleep on you though," Steve says, intimately familiar with how his body responds to being rigorously fucked and knotted.

"Would you be okay with me eating my come out of you while you slept?" Eddie asks and Steve visibly shivers, unable to stop it this time.

"Yeah, that would be okay," he says, almost breathlessly.

It's not that he doesn't normally love his job, but the prospect of spending the full night with Eddie, getting fucked into oblivion over and over and then having Eddie eat his come out of him when he's not even awake to enjoy it has him shifting in his seat, his underwear sticking wet against him.

"Oh," Eddie says like he just remembered something. "I didn't see anything in the rate sheet about full shift sex. Is that off the table?"

He's caught off guard again, it seems. No one has ever asked for that.

He doesn't come by full shift werewolves often, but the ones that he has have all fucked him half-shifted like the rest of them, just claws and fangs and extra hair and their knot. Some of them have curled around him after fully shifted, taking comfort in him for a while, but none of them have asked to fuck him while shifted. He didn't even really consider that it was an option.

Steve's nothing if not good at thinking on his feet, though. He says, "It's a special request, so you'll have to work out the details with Robin, but it's definitely something that we can do."

"I'll talk to Robin then," Eddie says, licking his lips and looking him over. Steve's never felt more like a piece of meat and god if he isn't into it.

*

Once the payment details have been worked out between Eddie and Robin later via email - after Robin screeches at him and Steve reassures her that, yes, it is possible and safe - Steve sees Eddie's name pop up on his calendar and tries not to spend too much time freaking out about it.

He's not nervous, exactly. There's always the jitters he gets when he's fucking a new client for the first time because what if they see his body and don't like it, what if they thought he's a major asshole, what if it's the most awkward night of his life, what if, what if, what if?

He's feeling all that plus the apprehension of doing something he's never done before. He does a lot of research in the week leading up to it, subscribes to the OnlyFans of a lovely werewolf and human couple who do full shift knotting and make it look easy as anything.

Watching someone smaller than him take a knot bigger than his fist helps settle some of his nerves about feasibility. And he's taken knotting dildos that expand larger than some of the half-shifted weres' knots he's taken. He feels better about his ability to take it when he digs out his largest knotting dildo and spends a night devolving into an incoherent mess as he comes over and over from the stimulation of the knot pressing on his g-spot.

When the night comes, he gets himself ready to the best of his ability. He fingers his ass open in the shower thoroughly since Eddie requested that he not use lube before coming over and then slips a plug inside that's coated in the slick from his cunt.

Because he's been dripping slick in anticipation for days now. Thinking about it even remotely has him wet and open and aching about it, craving something inside him.

He gets a Lyft over to Eddie's place, or a place that Eddie's rented for the night - he's not sure.

When he steps inside the apartment building and is led to the elevator by the same comically tall man from before, he puts his game face on. Tonight is definitely going to be interesting, if nothing else.

Eddie opens the door to his apartment and ushers Steve inside. "Good to see you," he says, voice nervous, like he wasn't sure Steve was going to show.

"Good to see you too," Steve says, and it's not a lie. He's excited and nervous and horny and he's sure Eddie can smell all of that on him.

Eddie looks good. Steve takes a good look at him while he's grabbing some water bottles to bring to the bedroom.

He's not as put together as he was at the cafe. He's wearing a well worn shirt and soft looking sweatpants. He's barefoot and casual and this whole look is really doing something for Steve.

That, or the fact that he's about to get dicked down within an inch of his life. He's so fucking ready for this.

Eddie leads him to the bedroom, not really making small talk, which is much more pleasant than if he were. Robin always gives new clients the run down, but some guys don't really understand that he isn't there to be anything but a good fuck. He doesn't want to be anything else or for anyone to get any wires crossed. He knows he owes them a part of himself, but there are parts of himself that he doesn't share and doesn't care to know about in return.

And especially with someone new - Steve doesn't know him, so he doesn't really care how his week went other than if he was thinking of Steve. He isn't interested in hearing anything that's not related to him getting fucked right now, because it's the first time, because he doesn't have that kind of relationship with his clients - the ones who try to know more about him or get him to participate in knowing more about them quickly learn his boundaries.

"You can, uh, take your clothes off if you want," Eddie says as he closes the door behind them and Steve grins.

He's used to people wanting to get right down to business so he doesn't bother with elaborate outfits or lingerie unless requested. They both know what they're here for.

He strips down quickly and efficiently under Eddie's watchful eye, folding his clothes as he goes, placing them on the dresser he's standing by.

He lets Eddie look his fill, lets him drag his eyes up and down his body, as he walks towards him.

When he gets close enough, Eddie puts his hand on his hip and Steve shivers from the condensation left there by the water bottle he just set down on the nightstand.

"You're beautiful," he says, leaning in to press his mouth to Steve's neck, his lips right below his pulse point. He kisses down Steve's neck, his other hand coming up to grip the curve of his ass possessively.

Steve's cunt clenches reflexively at the gesture. Part of what does it for him, through all of this, is the feeling of being owned, feeling like he's owned and wanted, desired.

Eddie's fingers delve between his cheeks, looking to pet over his asshole, and he makes a surprised noise against Steve's throat when he feels the plug.

"I don't smell any lube on you," Eddie says, pulling back to look at him as he tugs at the plug lightly, too light to pull it out, but enough for Steve to feel the stretch of it wanting to slip out.

He shivers and says, "I didn't use any at your request. Not any that my body didn't create at least. And it's not a big plug, but I don't know how big your knot is and I wanted to prepare myself at least a little."

He's nervous he messed up or did something Eddie didn't like, but he was told to specify what he wanted beforehand and he didn't say Steve couldn't, so...

Luckily, Eddie just grins at him and tugs him closer so he's nearly pressed flush against him. He slips his fingers further between Steve's legs and says, "I think I want this hole first," petting over his cunt. "And I said I'd rim you before I fucked your ass to get you ready. I was thinking about doing that full shift if you're okay with it."

Steve can't help the way his entire body buzzes at the thought. "That's- yeah. Yes," he says intelligently.

Eddie's mouth twitches up like he's amused, but the hand on Steve's hip comes up to cup his neck and pull him into a kiss, so he can't be too mad about it.

Eddie kisses him deeply right from the jump - tongue pressing inside his mouth immediately, heads tilting so they can both lick deeper. Steve rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder, his other hand pressing against the front of Eddie sweatpants which have tented up.

Eddie pulls the hand from between his legs back a little to play with the plug again. He holds the base and presses the little button there, starting up the low hum of vibrations that makes Steve moan softly into his mouth.

At the sound of Steve's moan, Eddie pulls away from the kiss with a slick noise. He says, "Get on the bed. On your back," and steps back, his hands falling away from Steve's body.

Steve gets on the bed. He lays back and spreads his legs, his right hand settling between his thighs, stroking his thumb over his dick slowly.

He watches as Eddie gets undressed, just strips his shirt off and pushes his sweatpants down and off to show off his body.

He's not shifted at all yet so he doesn't have much body hair other than a light dusting of hair on his arms and legs and a thick thatch of hair above his frankly gorgeous dick.

His dick is thick - not the longest he's ever seen, but he's got girth and Steve's cunt clenches at the thought of how much bigger it's going to get when he shifts. Even half-shifted, he'll be bigger, stretching out whatever hole he wants to fill. When he's fully shifted-

He doesn't even know how he's going to manage not immediately coming all over his dick as soon as it gets inside him.

He didn't get into this particular line of work because he was anything other than a size queen. He knows this about himself and he luckily has the clientele to make sure that he never has to go without being filled again.

Eddie climbs onto the bed with him after grabbing a bottle of lube.

It's not a brand he's familiar with and when Eddie sees him looking, he says, "It's a brand made 'by weres for weres', kind of thing. Regular lube, even unscented, has a weirdly strong scent."

Steve hums. "I'll have to look into that," he says, trying to make a mental note to get the name of the brand before he leaves tomorrow.

He gets between Steve's thighs and tosses the lube up near the pillows next to the one Steve is resting his head on.

He leans down and presses his mouth to Steve's throat again, breathing in his scent briefly. There's a rumbling noise low in his chest as he does, not quite a growl, but Steve knows he likes what he smells. He probably wouldn't be here right now if Eddie didn't like how he smelled.

"Wanna put my mouth on you," Eddie says, lips dragging along his collarbone.

Steve nods eagerly. "You can. I want you to."

Eddie kisses down his chest and Steve feels the moment Eddie starts to shift, his teeth becoming sharper as he nips at his hip bones, his nails becoming claws as his hands push his thighs open wider.

He looks down and groans at the sight. Where Eddie's body was sparsely covered with hair before is now covered in it. His chest, his thighs, his arms, probably his back too - all covered in thick hair.

With his legs spread wide, thighs pressed into the sheets, he knows Eddie can see how wet he is, can smell it too - not just his slick, but his arousal. He feels like he's choking on it and he doesn't have the same senses as a wolf, so he can't imagine how thick the smell of his arousal must be right now.

The plug is still vibrating inside him, but it's not big enough and the vibration isn't strong enough to really be doing much for him.

Without much fanfare, Eddie dips his head and laps at the wetness between Steve's thighs, pulling another groan from deep within him. Steve reaches up to grab the pillow underneath his head so that he has something to hold onto as Eddie licks from his cunt to his dick and back again, one hand reaching down to play with his plug.

He presses the button on the plug again to turn up the vibration. At the same time, he presses his tongue inside him, and it's not the same for all werewolves, but Eddie's tongue when he's half-shifted is longer than a normal human tongue.

He presses it inside and Steve's thighs shake, another wave of slick dripping out of him when Eddie pulls back.

Eddie gets his mouth on Steve's cock and he knows he doesn't stand a chance. His fists grab harder onto the pillow and he bucks his hips up into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie wraps his hands around Steve's waist and hauls him up, letting him hook a thigh over his shoulder for leverage as he fucks up against his mouth.

He sticks his long tongue out and lets Steve grind up against it, the sight of it driving him fucking insane.

He hitches his hips up, grinding against his tongue and his eyes nearly roll back when he feels the tip of Eddie's tongue teasing at his slick hole at the same time.

One hand comes down to fist into Eddie's hair, holding him there as he comes, feeling like he's going to shake out of his body. He grinds his dick on Eddie's tongue as he pulses through his orgasm, crying out as he does.

When he sinks back into the bed, breath shaky and feeling like he's going to melt into a puddle, Eddie nuzzles his face into the crease of his thigh. Steve runs his hand down over Eddie's hair, smoothing it down where he tugged it up earlier.

Eddie presses the button on the plug again, holds down for a few seconds, until it turns off, and then he dips his tongue back inside Steve's dripping hole.

Steve sighs and lets Eddie attempt to lick him clean.

When he's had his fill of sucking the slick from Steve's cunt, Eddie puts his mouth on Steve's thigh, his canines digging in as he sucks hard on the skin, marking the skin there.

He makes his way back up Steve's body when he's done making his mark on his thigh.

"Can I fuck you?" Eddie asks like the idiot he is.

"If you don't get inside me right now, I'm gonna strap you to this bed, sit on your cock until sunrise, and not let you come once," Steve says like the cock-hungry whore he is.

Eddie grins at him, baring his teeth, his canines glinting in the warm light of the bedroom. He lines his cock up and presses inside, the slide made so fucking easy from the amount of slick Steve's dripping. He's sopping wet and they both hear the loud, slick sound of Eddie's cock fucking into his core.

Eddie scoops up Steve's legs, his knees falling into the crook of Eddie's elbows as he leans down to kiss him. He fucks in deep until he's buried inside him, his hips cradled between Steve's thighs.

He starts up a slow rhythm, as slow as the kisses he presses to Steve's mouth, and it's not enough. The hair of the scruff on his face that wasn't there before is a delicious burn against the skin around his mouth, but Steve wants more. He wants to feel that burn everywhere, wants Eddie to leave him covered in beard burn, his skin raw and red from it.

The thought of that spurs him to try and get some leverage to fuck himself on Eddie's cock. Steve doesn't have that much leverage with his hips splayed out like this, but he wraps his arm around Eddie's shoulders and tries to roll his hips up anyway.

He kisses Eddie, trying to deepen the chaste kisses he presses on his mouth, but Eddie apparently wants to take his time right now.

He lets his fingertips dig into Eddie's shoulder and clenches around him, but lets him take his time getting into it.

After a minute, Eddie pries his mouth open with his tongue and presses it inside Steve's mouth. Steve groans as Eddie fucks his tongue into his mouth, nearly hitting the back of his throat and Steve is done waiting. They can take it slow in the morning if that's something Eddie wants, but Steve wants to be fucked into the mattress now.

Steve doesn't know if Eddie's taking it slow because he's afraid of losing control or if he's afraid of hurting him or something else, but either way, he begrudgingly pulls away from Eddie's mouth to say, "Remember what I said about tying you to the bed? Fuck. Me. Or I'll find someone else to do it."

Eddie sits up a little and looks down at him, like he's deciding if he's serious - he's not, of course. Eddie paid for this time and he'll gladly suffer through the slowest, most vanilla, missionary fucking of his life if that's what Eddie wants. But Steve doesn't think it is, is the thing. He thinks Eddie wants to get rough with him, wants to drag his body closer like he's a fucking ragdoll and use him, and that's why Steve's pushing so much.

"You're kind of bossy for someone who's paid to lay there and take it," Eddie says - calling him out on it - his mouth pulled up into a grin, softening the words. He rolls his hips gently, his cock dragging against Steve's hole deliciously.

"I think you're afraid to hurt me, maybe. And I'm going to remind you that I do do this for a living, so I can take it. I like it, even. And I want you to stop being so gentle if that's not what you want. I want you to press me into this mattress and fucking knot me already," he says, watching Eddie's darken at his words.

Eddie's grin slides into a smirk and his tongue slides along his left canine. He says, "I was trying to ease you into it, but if you're sure."

He raises an eyebrow at him and Steve fights the urge to say something bitchy about how he's already told him what he wants.

"I'm sure," he says instead.

Eddie lowers his body on top of him, pressing his cock all the way inside again. He leans in and takes a deep breath of Steve's scent right at the nape of his neck where it's the most potent. His entire body seems to twitch as he presses his nose into his neck and scents him.

And then it's like a switch has been flipped. Because Eddie's hands come to rest on Steve's hips and press him into the sheets. Because Eddie spreads his knees and starts fucking into Steve like the animal he is - rutting into him in quick, harsh strokes, humping him really.

And this is what Steve was waiting for. He drops his head back and can't stop the whine that escapes his lips as Eddie's dick hits deep inside him.

The only reason he's not more embarrassed about the noises that can't seem to stop is because Eddie's whining too, making these whimpering little punched out sounds as he fucks into Steve's cunt roughly.

With Eddie whining into his ear and fucking into him deep, there's no way to stave off the orgasm that sneaks up on him. He's tensing up and shaking through it before he even realizes it's coming, digging his fingernails into Eddie's back and clenching around Eddie's cock.

Eddie groans at the feeling of Steve's cunt squeezing him tightly and he presses up onto his forearms, looking down at Steve.

"I'm gonna-" he says, a moan cutting him off.

"Do it," Steve says. "Knot me."

Eddie shudders, pressing his cock in deep again, and Steve can feel the way it expands, can feel the knot forming. He manages a few more shaky thrusts before the knot catches on Steve's hole and they both groan.

He pulls it out and bullies it back in and Steve's eyes roll back at the feeling of his hole being stretched out to let him back inside.

Eddie rocks his hips now that his knot is too big to pull back out. His knot is pressing right on Steve's g-spot with every movement of Eddie's hips and he knows he's going to come on his knot before it goes down.

He swears he can feel it the moment Eddie starts to come inside him, can feel the added warmth and wetness inside him and it makes his entire body burn.

He watches as Eddie shakes through it, biting his lip, but not being able to stop the groans tumbling from his mouth.

Eddie keeps rocking his hips, his knot hitting Steve just right and pulling on his hole and Steve's tensing up again, too soon, too soon, too soon. He gasps as he starts to come again.

His body goes taut as he squirts from the stimulation of Eddie's knot pressing on his g-spot relentlessly. He quakes as he barrels through another orgasm, barely able to catch his fucking breath.

Eddie groans as his muscles squeeze his knot, trying to milk the come from him.

The pleasure is blinding and all consuming and he thinks he whites out a little, floating and weightless for a minute before he comes back down.

He lays there catching his breath, sweaty, cunt aching from being knotted up, covered in his own squirt juice, and there's no better feeling than this.

Eddie's knot is still pressed tight against his g-spot, a constant point of white-hot pleasure that he can't shake and doesn't want to.

As they come down, Eddie sits up, the motion pulling Steve's hips into his lap. Steve groans at the way the knot pulls him along with Eddie's hand on his hips.

Eddie's kneeling back on his haunches, but he straightens up so that Steve's not laying in the wet spot he made. If he wasn't supporting Steve's body with his hands on his hips, he would be dangling from his knot and that thought makes Steve's eyes roll back, his cunt clenching almost painfully around the knot inside him as he moans and comes again.

"This is what you wanted, right? To be hanging off my knot?" Eddie asks, almost snarling down at him when Steve clenches around him again.

Steve nods his head and brings his hands up, one gripping Eddie's hand on his hip, the other coming up to stroke his belly where it's bulging slightly. It's going to be so much more pronounced when Eddie fucks his ass, when Eddie's fully shifted, and Steve can't help the way he shudders thinking about it.

Eddie licks his lips looking at the way Steve pets his stomach bulge. "Wish I could feel that from the inside too. Feel you petting the head of my cock through your stomach."

The words make Steve groan again and he slips his hand down to rub at his aching dick.

Eddie puts his hand on Steve's and pulls it away, sitting back on his haunches again and hauling Steve up so they're face to face again.

He presses his mouth to Steve's again, licking inside. Their tongues press together gently, a slow, sinking kiss that leaves him breathless.

Their tongues slide together for a good few minutes as they wait for Eddie's knot to go down.

Steve can feel when it's small enough to slip out of him because it feels like a rush of wetness drips out of him.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss and says, "I'm probably going to knot for a lot longer when I'm shifted."

"That's okay. I might fall asleep if you do," Steve says, knowing he's bound to come at least a few more times and he's already feeling the exhaustion start to creep in, his body feeling the strain of their fucking. In the quiet aftermath, with Eddie fully shifted and seeping warmth, he's probably going to fall right asleep.

"I'll clean you up if you do," Eddie says and Steve groans. He nuzzles into Steve's neck briefly, nipping at the skin there, before he moves them.

Eddie pulls him neatly off his cock and deposits him onto the bed, rolling him onto his stomach. The sheets are wet beneath him, but it doesn't make sense to move because he's just going to get them wet again when he squirts on Eddie's knot again.

He feels the ripple in the air from the subtle change in air pressure that means Eddie's fully shifted now.

Eddie drapes himself over Steve's body and Steve moans at the feeling of Eddie's hairy, hairy body covering him completely. He's bigger like this, taller and wider, and it's turning Steve's brain to goo thinking about how big his knot is going to feel inside his ass.

Eddie's voice is a low grumble when he speaks and Steve shivers about that too.

"Gonna get you ready now," he growls out and all Steve can do is spread his legs further when Eddie pulls his weight off him. "Take your plug out."

He'd almost forgotten it was there, holding his ass open, nowhere near as big as what's about to come. He grips the base of the plug and slides it out before tossing it on the nightstand.

He's damn near shivering in anticipation when Eddie presses Steve's hips down and spreads him out.

Eddie ducks his head and licks at the mess between his thighs, lapping at his cunt. The feeling is so much. His tongue feels rougher than before.

Steve's cunt is so wet, from Eddie's come and from the fresh slick that drips from him as Eddie's tongue delves into him. Steve can't stop the wails that come out of his mouth.

He's crying out, almost sobbing with it as Eddie continues to lick at his sensitive hole and then as he licks inside with his long tongue, longer than his human tongue, longer than his half shifted tongue.

He licks into his cunt until he's shaking and then he spreads Steve's cheeks. Steve looks back over his shoulder and lets out a weak moan as he watches as Eddie lets a mixture of his spit, his come, and Steve's slick dribble down onto his asshole.

The tip of his tongue presses inside his ass and Steve relaxes into it. Eddie presses more of his tongue inside, more of his come and spit lubing the way.

He fucks his ass like this for a couple minutes and it feels like Eddie is lazily doing this, taking his time and trying to build it up, but Steve is on a hair trigger, has been all night.

He gets a hand under him and rubs at his cock and that's it, he's coming again, cunt dripping onto the sheets beneath him.

Eddie keeps licking into his asshole as Steve shudders through his orgasm.

He must have grabbed the bottle of lube at some point because when he pulls away, Steve feels something slick, wet, and cold being dripped onto his hole.

He looks back and almost laughs at how small the lube bottle looks in Eddie's hand. He watches as Eddie squeezes the bottle and drips lube onto his cock and he groans.

Eddie's cock like this is fucking outrageous. It's long and thick and Steve knows it's going to stretch him out like nothing he's ever experienced before, putting any time he's said the phrase 'rearranging his guts' to shame.

Eddie pulls him up on his hands and knees and notches his cock against Steve's asshole and presses the head inside slowly.

Steve breathes through it - the head popping inside makes his cunt clench in sympathy. He wonders what it would feel like inside his cunt, pressing on places that probably haven't been touched before. He shivers thinking about it.

Eddie presses in a little bit more, drizzling more lube onto his hole. He pulls out and presses back inside and Steve feels like he can't get in enough air - it's so fucking big.

When he's fully seated inside him, Steve feels overheated.

And then Eddie starts to move.

If he was overwhelmed before, he doesn't know what he is right now. There's so much to focus on - the giant cock stretching him out, the feeling of Eddie draping himself over his back, the feeling of Eddie's arm hair under his hand when he reaches back to steady himself.

Eddie takes it so slow for a few minutes, rocking in and out gently as Steve's body gets used to the intrusion.

Steve lowers his chest to the bed so he isn't supporting his weight and lets Eddie drag him back onto his cock.

He groans at the feeling, getting a hand beneath him and on his dick again. He presses two fingers inside his cunt where he's soaking wet and lets the palm of his hand rock against his dick as Eddie picks up the pace.

It doesn't take longer than another minute to come, crying out embarrassingly loud as he grinds against his hand.

That seems to spur Eddie on and he fucks into Steve harder as Steve goes lax after he's done coming.

He doesn't know when he started crying, but the pillow beneath his head is wet with his tears and Eddie's bent over and licking at his neck and the side of his face like he's trying to soothe him.

He wants to feel Eddie's knot in him as badly he doesn't know what to do with himself.

He pushes back against him, the slapping sound of Eddie's hips hitting his growing louder.

Eddie fucks into him with deep strokes and Steve knows without looking or touching that his stomach is bulging out on every fucking thrust.

He's so deep inside him. It feels like every nerve in his body is on fire with the way he's lit up from the inside out.

His fingers are still tucked inside him and he curls them up, hiccuping wetly when he presses on his g-spot. He fucks his fingers in and out, trying to match the speed of Eddie's thrusts and as soon as he feels his knot starting to form, he's squirting all over the bed again.

The knot stretches at his rim and it's like he can't stop coming, clenching over and over and over as Eddie bullies his knot inside him.

His knot already felt like it was going to split him open earlier when he was only half-shifted and now it's pressing in and in again and shattering his whole world. Steve feels his eyes cross at the unrelenting pressure.

Eddie presses it in and it catches on Steve's rim, unable to come out again so easily, so Eddie just grinds his hips against Steve's as he chases his orgasm.

Steve comes again, gasping and crying as he feels the warmth of Eddie coming inside him. He's clenching both holes, milking Eddie's knot again and he can't stop shivering and sobbing.

They stay like that until Steve stops shivering, until it feels less like he's going to float out of his body.

Eddie moves them, his knot tugging at Steve's hole, making him hiss.

He drags them off of the wet spot and under the covers that were folded on the other side of the bed.

Steve kind of blinks back into reality with Eddie spooned up behind him, nuzzling his face into his throat.

"Drink some water, baby," Eddie says to him, his voice still a deep growl, so Steve hadn't missed him shifting back yet. He's still knotted inside him, so it makes sense, but Steve's brain isn't operating at 100% right now.

They've wound up closer to the bedside table than when they started so it's not a far stretch to reach over and grab a water bottle. He sucks down half the bottle, his dehydrated body needing it.

He passes the uncapped bottle back to Eddie and bites back a quip about him needing a water bowl. He's too tired to make it funny anyway - it would probably come out sounding a little mean and he doesn't want to be mean right now.

He just wants to be wrapped up and taken care of.

Eddie deposits the water bottle somewhere and drags Steve into his arms.

The entire room smells like sex, like both of them, and he can't even imagine what that must be like for Eddie with his heightened senses. Maybe that's why Eddie keeps burying his face in Steve's neck, overwhelmed by their mingling scents and the scent of their come in the air.

He's so sleepy - the warmth seeping from Eddie's body, the exhaustion of being fucked good, and the feeling of Eddie stroking his hand over Steve belly makes his eyes drift closed. He can feel himself falling asleep soon as he settles back into Eddie's embrace.

He drifts to sleep still knotted up tight.

*

He wakes up soon after falling asleep to Eddie's tongue inside his ass, his human-sized tongue licking deftly over him, eating the come from his hole. He gasps at the feeling, at the loud, wet noises coming from behind him.

He's on his stomach again, so reaches his hand back and fists it in Eddie's hair.

"Hi, gorgeous," Eddie says before going back to licking and sucking at his hole.

With Steve awake, Eddie fucks two fingers inside his cunt slowly, immediately curling them down to hit his g-spot.

Steve groans loudly. Eddie sloppily eating his ass and slowly, but expertly fingering his cunt is such a good way to wake up.

Eddie licks into him over and over, his fingers stroking over his g-spot, and when his other hand comes down to stroke at his cock, he doesn't stand a chance.

It's a slow building orgasm, but he quakes and whines through it all the same. Eddie keeps licking and fingering and stroking him through it, and after another couple of minutes, he's rolling through another one, this one edging on painful - the pleasure tipping over into pain as he jerks through it.

He pulls at Eddie's hair and says, "Enough," before dropping his hand onto the bed beside him.

Eddie pulls his fingers out and Steve can hear the way he sucks them into his mouth and if he wasn't literally aching, he'd want to go another round.

He manages to stay awake as Eddie hauls him up and into the bathroom to clean up. In the shower, Eddie presses him into the shower wall and kisses him as he soaps up his body.

They fall back into the bed with clean bodies and wet hair and Steve is asleep the minute his head hits the pillow.

*

He wakes up in the morning with Eddie's head between his thighs again, licking into his sore cunt. He's fucking insatiable.

Steve sighs and stretches his arms out, spreading his thighs a little.

He looks down at Eddie and finds him looking back up at him, tongue licking into him with little kitten licks.

"You're going to kill me," is what he says, voice rough with sleep.

Eddie pulls his wet mouth away and grins at him. He says, "Or ruin you."

Steve shivers. He already has. How the hell is he supposed to go back to knots that aren't from a fully shifted werewolf?

"Can I fuck you?" Eddie asks, crawling up his body.

Steve pulls him into a kiss, tasting his slick on Eddie's tongue. He reaches down and guides Eddie's cock into his sore cunt, sighing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie fucks him gently, slowly grinding into him, trading kisses the entire time.

After a minute, Eddie puts his hands under Steve's back and rolls them over so that Steve is straddling Eddie's lap.

Their lips never leave each other's as Steve rocks down against him, getting a good angle so Eddie cock is dragging over his g-spot.

The kisses turn desperate as they both get closer, Steve reaching a hand down to rub at his dick.

He comes on Eddie's cock, gasping into his mouth as he clenches around him.

It only takes another handful of thrusts before Eddie's coming too - he grabs Steve by the hips and fucks up into him, faster than before, but still gentle.

Eddie groans into his mouth as he comes inside him and they both collapse back onto the bed.

Steve lifts himself off Eddie dick and shivers at the feeling of his come leaking out of him.

"I don't suppose you'd want to clean me up before I go?" Steve asks, leaning back and spreading his legs.

He tracks the way Eddie licks his lips looking at the come dripping out of him and grins. He's got his number, it seems.

When Eddie presses him back into the sheets and licks the come dripping from his cunt and Steve starts thinking of how he's going to secure seeing him again, he supposes Eddie has his number too.

[mochinomnoms]

okay so i just read ptm and i'm really liking it^^ but i wanna ask, are your OCs twisted from certain characters or you just made them up ?? i tried to guess some of them but my brain is mostly empty rn :')

Hiiiii!!! I saw you in my notifs, I almost always notice when someone makes little comments in the tags, cause it makes me really happy when people comment and talk about my fics (─‿‿─)

By now I think most people have guessed their inspirations, so I'm happy to talk more about them and explain a bit for each one! I'll go one by one and share a little fun fact!

Yev Quispe is based on Yzma from the Emperor's New Groove! A fun fact is that Yev's signature spell is called “Creature Feature”, which allows him to temporarily turn someone into an animal of his choosing, though it's limited to one person at a time and larger animals require him to use more energy than a smaller one. His uncle is the botany professor at NRC!

Timothy O'Hare, mostly goes by Timmy, is based both on the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland and Thumper from Bambi! He has 9 younger sisters and 3 older sisters, and would regularly get beat up by them if he was rude to a girl. His signature spell is “Reverse the Clock” which allows him to turn time back by a few seconds, 10 at most, however he has to wait at least 30 minutes between each use due to the massive amount of blot he accumulates from use.

James Bartholomew is based on Captain Hook, though he has no hook (yet). He was raised at sea for most of his life among much older and crass sailors, so he has a hard time talking with others. His signature spell is “Hook, Line, and Sinker” which allows him to cast a barrier that “hooks” his opponent to his vicinity, up to a 5-foot radius; if they attempt to leave they will be dragged back like a fish on a hook. The farther they try to get away, the heavier their body will get.

Wynfred Salson is based on Winifred Sanderson from Hocus Pocus, but likes to go by Winnie. He's the eldest of the triplets and is extremely protective of them. He likes foraging and making his own potions from scratch, so he joined the Mountain Lovers Club to collect his own materials. He is very socially unaware and thinks he is the epitome of the ideal human, though most people are put off by him.

Marion Salson is based on Mary Sanderson from Hocus Pocus and is the shyest of the triplets. He's Winnie's shadow and idolizes his brother, and even tried switching clubs but was denied. He has a very acute sense of smell on par with beastmen, so he hates how perfumed Pomefiore is, as he'll get migraines from the smell. Marion would like to become a healer, like his mother, and volunteers in the infirmary as much as possible.

Silas Salson is based on Sarah Sanderson, though they like to go by Sy. Sy likes to dress up in both masculine and feminine clothes and sometimes will ask everyone to refer to them as he, she, or they, depending on how they feel day to day. They also like to eat bugs and will snatch a flying cockroach from the air and shove into their mouth to eat. They say it's because they like how the texture feels in their mouth. Sy is also an excellent singer and would like to study bardic magic.

Aspen Albamar is based on Morgana from the second Little Mermaid, though his name references her green skin. He tries to be composed, but it's quite easy to push his buttons and get him riled up, unintentional or not. He is a wonderful musician, but actually has trouble with magic, as he was a late bloomer. He's originally from the Arctics and moved to the Coral Sea very young,

Tony Lombardi is based on Undertow from the second Little Mermaid, and is extremely small for his type of merfolk, which is a tiger shark. He, unlike the rest of his mer peers, is really into flight class and surprisingly excels in it. It might come as little surprise, but Tony has a big ol' fat crush on Aspen and has since they were children, but has kept it on the down low. Despite his warnings that Jade most likely views him as a little brother, Tony will begrudgingly help Aspen in pursing him since it makes him happy.

Yaqub Fahim is based on Iago from Aladdin and is a parrot beastman. Yaqub is arguably the most level-headed of all the Ramshackle freshmen, and gets along with most if not all of his peers. He does not like Kalim and Jamil at all, as both are off-putting to him for different reasons, so he is not particularly attached to Scarabia as his dorm, so he prefers to stay in Ramshackle as long as possible.

Amara Goethel, also known as Nurse Goethel, is based on Mother Gothel from Tangled. She is in charge of the infirmary, but also teaches the health and wellness curriculum, which has classes that correspond with both science and health, so she works with Vargas and Crewel often. She has a very hot wife who is covered in tattoos and

I wanted to establish a cast of side characters to make up for the lack of the third years, so I decided that new freshman would be the best choice! A lot of their background and 'lore' won't be relevant in the main story, but I would like to write more about them in little side snippets!

Some of them will end up together or with an unnamed background character. Two technically have partners already, but one of them doesn't really count. Anyways this was fun thanks for asking about them, though I think I shared more than asked lol.

[pictureinme]

cheri cheri lady – kitten braden (1)

❧ you go to a peepshow. you meet kitten. your life is flipped upside down.

patricia 'kitten' braden x f!reader tags: voyeurism, oral sex, p in v, etc. (see ao3 for full list) parts: 1 (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

You make your way into the part of town you swore you’d never step foot in: the red-light district. The only women around were streetwalking or advertising their clubs.

You were here to do neither of those things.

Being a closeted lesbian in London might seem like an easy job, that is, until that said lesbian gets horny. Who doesn’t? You considered paying for an hour or so, but you weren’t made of money. Plus, what if someone saw you? That’s why you were laying low in your unassuming trench coat and slacks.

If you walked quickly enough, no one would notice you aren’t a man looking to throw his money away to see some naked ladies.

Taking it slow, you decide to go to a peepshow. It’s easy, there isn’t any chance you’ll get into trouble.

In glimmering neon, you see the sign: Xanadu. You heard it was run by a union of sorts, and it was fully legal. No busts to get caught in.

Entering through the tinsel curtain, the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume hung in the air. Exciting.

You walk quickly through the booths and their curtains, until you find one unoccupied. Shutting the curtains, you sit on the stool, wiping a trickle of sweat from your brow.

Fumbling through your coin purse, you put the allotted amount for twenty minutes into the slot.

The view quickly reveals itself: a lovely young blonde woman, dressed in a blue slip, was sitting on a flower adorned swing.

“Well, hello there.”

Her deep voice, coupled with her lusty blue eyes, had you stifle a choke, which was caught on the microphone.

She giggles, quite over the top.

“You’re an absolute beauty,” you manage to whisper, forgetting your preamble about how you’re a woman and if that would offend her in some way.

Her swinging stops, and a smirk finds its way onto her face, “Oh, a lady paying for a peepshow? How unusual.”

You scramble, “If that bothers you, I can leave, no problem. You can keep the money, of course and...”

Her finger comes to her plush lips in a shushing motion, “Don’t get all uppity, darling. In fact, I wish more ladies would come in. Make this a lot more fun, hm?

“I have to agree, Miss…?”

“Call me Kitten, love. May I know yours?”

Kitten’s tongue goes to lick her lips quickly, making your breath shudder.

“You can call me… (Y/N).”

‘Why did you give her your real name, you dunce?’ you think to yourself.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. What made you brave this side of London just to see little ol’ me?” One of her straps falls from her shoulder, you can’t help but stare.

You chuckle, blushing slightly at the compliment, “Can you blame a girl for being horny?”

“Not at all, dear (Y/N),” Kitten leans closer to the glass, “I must say, I like it when girls talk so crass.”

“Yeah? I like it when girls wear pretty blue slips… especially when they let them fall so low.”

Your confidence grows by the minute. You know she can’t see you, but she sure as hell acts like she can.

“My, you’re quite the dirty girl. What would you like to see, love?” She bites her thumb, letting her lips wrap around it.

“Anything. I’m honestly content just… talking with such a beautiful woman.”

Kitten smiles widely, “You’re such a flirt, dear. I’ll show you something nice…”

You watch as she moves her hands down to between her legs, still covered by the slip. With a gasp, you find yourself imitating her movements.

“You like that, Miss (Y/N)? Do you like seeing pretty girls doing dirty things?”

“Yes, Kitten, but I especially like it when you do it.”

Giggling, she starts to touch herself around her clothing, “I thought you might say that. I wish I could see you, I know you’re doing the same thing I am, hm?"

You nod, but realize she can’t see that, so you let out a noise of affirmation.

“Miss (Y/N), you were so brash before, what happened? Cat got your tongue, or was it a… kitten?”

“You’re driving me crazy, such a doll, you are.”

Her eyelids flutter closed, in seemingly faux ecstasy, “Your words make me the crazy one.”

Kitten’s slip falls from her chest, revealing her petite breasts. Eyes glued to her, your mouth falls open in a slight whimper.

“You know, all the men that come here think they’re rather disappointing, but you…”

She grins, and moves one hand to touch one of them. Still mimicking her, you whisper, “Kitten, you are something else.”

Just as you both start getting into the rhythm of it, a chime signals one minute till the end of your time. You have no more quarters.

“Oh, shame. I hope I see you around again soon, Miss (Y/N). You’ve certainly put me in a good mood,” Kittens seems genuinely saddened by this, but her peach pout is just too erotic for you to handle.

“I’ll definitely be back soon, Kitten. You’ve got me addicted.”

The view slides closed, and you’re left with both a soaked hand and underwear. Fuck.

[dotdotdotdotsometingidk]

Headcanon: Imagine having a mental breakdown and going to different people when you're feeling down and scared and need company

(Idk if I read something like this recently? If I did, and if I got inspired by that and copied anything, I'm so sorry. If you know something like that please tell me I'll tag them in the end of the post)

One piece x platonic reader

Characters: luffy, sanji, zoro, law, doffy

Luffy:

He's surprisingly good in these situations. He'll listen to you, hugs you and tries to make you laugh before you start hyperfixating on the situation. And obviously, if the situation can be solved or bettered by punching some bad guys, he's gonna promise you to do that and try to really do it.

He won't tell anyone about anything unless you want it to. He won't check on you afterwards with asking anything, since he's excellent in reading people's emotions. He'll definitely tries to joke around and bound with you as a friend more afterwards so you know you're not alone.

Sanji:

He went through trauma. He knows a thing or two about mental breakdowns. He tries to calm you down first, probably give ypu water and some salt to keep your blood pressure up, massage on the shoulder and listens to you. If you're an adult he gives you a cigarette. Than hell probably tries to sympathies and make you feel more validated and heard.

He'll check on you casually afterwards but cooks your favorite meals for a few days and focouses on you in conversations and jokes so you feel more involved and overall better.

Zoro:

He's awkward. Straight up awkward. If the problem is something you can drink away he'll drink with you, if not, he'll probably do his best to find someone else to help you. Not because he doesn't care, but he knows he's not the best for these situations.

If he had to be there for you and drinking didn't work, he'll listen to you talking about it. He might give you a brutal comment once in a while that makes it worse, but he'd probably didn't want that.

Afterwards, he checks on you casually the day after once and won't bring it up again. However, he keeps an eye out for you, juat in case you're not feeling ok.

Law:

Now, it depends. As a doctor, I think he feels a need to take care of people's health, be it physical or mental (can't think of anything instead of be it just roll with it). But if you're part of his crew, it's way more personal for him. He won't juat care about you as a doctor, but as a friend, that really cares.

If you're part of his crew, he'd probably sits besides you and tries to comfort you with smiling and crassing your arm. He'd listen to you talking about it and if he has any advise, anything that'll help you, he'd tell you and try to help you solve the problem that caused it as much as he can.

If you're really doing bad, he'd hug you in silence till you feel better. And after it's over, he'd probably check on you for a while and keep and eye out for you for a little while after that.

Doffy:

If you're part of his family, specially if you're a child, he cares about that. However, since he cares about sharp minds and people with strong wills, if you have too many of them he might see them as a sign of weakness.

He'd probably let you stay nearby if you're freaking out and check up on whether you're better or not the next day, but it probably won't get much more than that. However, it's a point in your life he might try to figure out, so he can use it for later references. He'll remember that.

[fanficonly]

Wenclair- "I get paid in favours" -Part 2?

As requested a part 2 to the one-shot. I can't believe how many people enjoyed this lil fic and as a little thank you I thought a part 2 was definitely necessary, might continue on with a few more scenarios they find themselves in but I don't know yet

@paroovian @thatonefurry @paintato @allow-me-to-ruin-that-for-you thought I should tag y'all so you don't miss it... Thanks for your interest

P.S keep in mind the general consensus is that the sequel is never as good as the original

----

Enid paced back and forth in her dorm room at a rapid speed, fiddling with her hands and occasionally biting at her nails nervously. It was 6:45pm and she had spent the entire day anxiously awaiting 8'O'clock. After agreeing to see Wednesday for her needs, she had used the rest of her time to carelessly consider other options, some of which included running off into the abyss that is Nevermore woods never to return. Others that allowed her to see Wednesday without forcing herself to surpress her urges.

As the full moon approached Enid could feel the wolf inside her, screaming and clawing its way to the surface. And with less than 24 hours to go she grew more impatient and frustrated by the second.

She had been told about a werewolf's uncontrollable nature when going into heat and considering Enid had never had a sexual experience before she knew the feeling would not go away unless she had help. "Medical help" She mumbled to herself over and over and over again. All she needed was suppressants to get her through the full moon so she could continue on in her daily life.

But as the light tick... tick... tick of her wall clock invading her ears, it only seemed to grow louder and louder with each shudder of the hands.

Tick... Tick!... TICK. The noise was incredibly irritating and with Enid's emotions all over the place she couldn't seem to tune anything out.

Complete sensory overload.

She unwillingly found herself bounding towards the noisy device,claws where her hands used to be, and slashing at it aggressively. As she watched the clock fall and break into pieces she growled loudly and began to breath heavy.

This feeling was too intense. Everything in her body began to burn. Images of Wednesday flooding her vision, while she panted in and out, clenching and unclenching her fists restlessly.

The whisper of Wednesday's words ...."Let's see if your bark is worse than your bite" tempted the Werewolf like the last pull of a smokers cigarette before they decided to quit. "Urghhhhh" she groaned to herself and as she closed her eyes slowly a picture of Wednesday lay where darkness should have been. When she opened her eyes her vision was glazed, her panic had not subsided and eventually she completely blacked out...

...

Enids vision was unfocused and blurry but she noticed she was no longer in her dorm. In fact she was stood outside a different door, arm raised and poised, ready to knock. When she blinked hard to remove the inhibiting fog she finally became aware of her surroundings.

Here she was, standing right outside Wednesday's door, unable to recall how she had got there. She tracked her eyes towards her hand which was in the middle of de-tranforming.

"Oh God" she whispered to herself. Had she really let her wolf control her like that? Enid hadn't even remembered how she made it to this door, but evidently her impulses were in full control at the time.

Clearly, she wanted to be here but this was absolutely terrifying for Enid. Even now she still felt a deep desire to do some incredibly explicit things to the next person she saw, which was a new and undisciplined feeling to her.

But before the wolf could scold herself for being so crass the door flew open, startling Enid out of her dazed state.

And there she stood, Wednesday Addams in all her glory, standing stoic and proper at the door looking at the blonde with a twinge of confusion in her eyes.

Enid noticed immediately the small surgical knife, dripping with goo, in Wednesday's gloved hand and she couldn't help but imagine all the morbid things she had been doing before Enid had arrived.

"I'm-" she started to explain

"Early." Wednesday finished for her. "You're early" she quirked an eyebrow up.

"No I don't even know how I -" she attempted to explain it all away but her curiosity got the better of her and she cut herself off to ask "is that a knife in your hand, what were you doing?" She furrowed her brow in confusion unable to tear her eyes away from the blade in Wednesday's hand. She knew it wasn't for her but it still seemed oddly threatening in her possession.

"It is acceptable. Early means eager and I tend to spar well with an unpredictable opponent" she commended Enid, lightly excited for what was to come, however you wouldn't be able to tell by the look on her face.

"Opponent?" Enid zoned in on that word, imagining herself in a duel with Wednesday to the death.

"My apologies." Wednesday spoke "I meant customers" she stepped back opening the door wider and gesturing for Enid to enter.

"Thanks" Enid mumbled growing more anxious by the second. She walked in stroking at her upper arm as if to hug herself for protection. The feeling settled when she heard Wednesday's voice and immediately turned to embarrassment.

"An hour is a little too eager maybe?" Wednesday's eyes followed Enid's as she walked past her, as if drilling into her head to excavate all her deepest darkest thoughts.

"No no I didn't- I don't even know how I ended up here!" The werewolf stammered out flustered by how desperate she may have looked. She turned to the darker haired girl and held her hands up in defense.

"Fascinating." Wednesday admired the blonde before removing her latex gloves and placing them in her trash can. Enid just scanned the room with curious eyes, clasping her hands together for comfort.

"What were you doing?" Enid continued to search the room and was mortified to see what she could only describe as the graphic murder of a frog, as her eyes landed on Wednesday's desk... Or more accurately her Autopsy Table.

"It's for science" she explained "Also I do so enjoy a fresh corpse for an all revealing autopsy" Wednesday spoke plainly with a twinge of sinister pleasure escaping her tone.

"You're like totally sadistic Wednesday" the blonde squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to erase the image from her mind before turning away from the crime scene and back to Wednesday's ever-staring eyes.

"Can't argue with that" Wednesday shrugged, not at all fazed by her reaction.

"Umm so ..." Enid rocked back and forth on her heels nervously, waiting for Wednesday to take charge of the exchange.

"Give me a moment to cleanse myself" she said and of course Enid didn't argue. She moved across to the table and removed the items from out in the open, without waiting for an answer.

"Okay" was all Enid said as Wednesday then removed herself from the room, heading for the bathroom. She just breathed deeply to calm the inferno that was currently coursing through her body.

After calming herself, Enid took the opportunity to walk quietly around Wednesdays room, picking up trinkets to examine them and running her hands along the walls that were covered in a collage of strange images. Her body still felt unsettled as she forced her impulses down into a deep dark hole somewhere in her mind but the exploration on Wednesday's room was a nice little distraction for her.

She was startled by a voice very VERY close behind her say "You are a rather invasive Little wolf aren't you?" Enid jumped and let out a small squeak. Wednesdays chin was practically perched on her shoulder with how close she had gotten without Enid being able to realise. 'So much for super human wolf senses' she thought to herself before turning around to meet Wednesday's accusing gaze.

"Sorry I was just ..." Enid smiled innocently moving backwards inadvertently hitting a wall "Curious" she spoke after a thud could be heard from her heels hitting the wood.

"So was I at one point in my life" Wednesday smirked "But then I reached the conclusion that I know exactly what and who I desired" Enid was a bit frazzled by this point. Was that.... Did she just? ... Wednesday Addams seemed to enjoy speaking in riddles or at least sentences that could be left up to different interpretations and honestly Enid wasn't sure she could decipher these with how clouded her state of mind currently was.

"A-and what's that?" Enid asked feeling a little bit like a cornered Animal, with a hunters gun pointed directly at her.

"See" Wednesday observed "So curious' she scanned Enid's face, ignoring the question. Wednesday noticed the wolf's nervousness and as she was not able to determine whether it was uncomfortable for her or not she stepped back to give her some space to breathe. She was of course hoping to tease Enid but that did not mean she had to be so predatory about it.

Enid sighed. Even she couldn't tell if she feared Wednesday or was attracted to her but after that interaction she just cleared her throat and spoke trying to avoid looking too interested. But Enid could not deny the warmth she felt at the closeness and the twinge of annoyance she felt after it had left.

"Do you have what I need?" She asked timidly. She scaled her eyes across Wednesday's body, her mind betraying her with thoughts of what she would look like writhing underneath her.

"Depends on what you came for?" Wednesday smirked again, as if reading her mind and rather proud of the reaction she had received from Enid. The blonde bit her lip to stop herself from giving in and continued to fight the urge to play into Wednesday's little game.

"The suppressants" she nodded, mostly trying to convince herself to agree that that is what she needed. They stared at each other for a moment, Wednesday giving Enid the chance to re-evaluate all of her options before she finally broke eye contact turning away from her.

"So incredibly dull" Wednesday sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. She had been rather charmed by Enid and was fascinated with werewolves in general so for this opportunity to pass by was a troubling concept for her.

"Hey I told you not to say that" Enid spat out still offended at Wednesday's obvious insult.

"I can say whatever I want" Wednesday folded her arms in protest. She wasn't one to keep her opinions to herself and she sure as hell would not let anyone dictate her free speech... No matter how cute they were.

"No you can't" Enid corrected her, somewhat delighted that the conversation had turned sour. Atleast this way the attraction may subside and she could actually focus on not getting to close and personal to the infamous Wednesday Addams. A journey like that is known to be insanely dangerous and Enid was 100% certain she would not survive.

"Care to waver?" Wednesday challenged. Enid took a moment to process what Wednesday had said. The vocabulary she used was so proper and every word had a somewhat disarming aroma around it. It intrigued Enid.

"Could've just said Bet but I'll bite" Enid rolled her eyes and smiled, feeling unnaturally comfortable in a conversation with Wednesday Addams all of a sudden.

"You promise?" Wednesday spoke quietly but the smug look on her face revealed to Enid that she had heard correctly and she let out a breathy chuckle in response.

"what?" She asked anyway anticipating that Wednesday would repeat herself. Did she realise the effect she was having on Enid or was this all just a game for her amusement. Was this even real? Was Enid actually still dreaming right now? What was happening?

"Nothing" she hummed, momentarily allowing herself to be comfortable.

"Bet!" Enid panicked and slashed her hand imitating one of her favourite memes joyfully, attempting to make light of the suggestive conversation. It was extraordinary what her brain told her to do in these kinds of situations, never fails to surprise even Enid herself.

"Why on earth would you do that?" Wednesday asked, leaning back lightly to avoid being karate chopped by the curious girl.

Enid was on the verge of becoming feral and lecturing the other girl on all things social media.. She debated with herself... It could either be a brilliant distraction or a mind numbing task that would surely push her over the edge so she stayed put for now settling on...

"Its a meme like wanna bet but just bet with like the button and- it's funny Wednesday" Enid raised her voice a bit at the blatant disdain the Addams girl had for anything remotely interesting to a normal teenager.

"Debatable" she said "Frivolous nonsense really" she criticized naturally.

"To you maybe" Enid blurted out defensively.

"It should be to most but we spend an alarming amount of time as a society attached to our phone screens like zombies, scrolling through brainless posts and memes as you say" Wednesday spat mocking the word.

Enid just sighed again. There she was. The cold and distant Wednesday she knew and ... Well she knew... Well kind of knew ... Whatever you get the point. But atleast this would deter Enid from jumping her bones.

"Whatever Wednesday. Can I have the pills or not?" Enid decided to just get on with the transaction. No games. No suggestive undertones. No problems.

"You said 8 O'clock" Wednesday raised her eyebrows.

"I know but surely you have-" Enid suddenly panicked and distressed at the idea of having to wait an entire hour before this feeling went away.

"No I do recall the time being 8 O'Clock" Wednesday rubbed her chin and pursed her lips as if to mimick a philosophers thinking face.

The shameless teasing was starting to get Enid worked up and her eyes glowed as she huffed.

"I need them now!" she growled out her fangs appearing effortlessly as she became unable to control the wolf inside her.

"It is not my fault that you're too punctual" Wednesday remarked, barely flinching at the outburst.

"I'm cutting it a bit close as it is Wednesday!" She began pacing back and forth in a worrisome way. "My whole body feels like it's on fire" Enid admitted, gritting her fangs, while clenching and unclenching her fists in an attempt to settle her wolf.

"Well then some even more unfortunate news for you then" Wednesday started and Enid's face weakened at her dull demeanor "My guy is running late so it's more like a 2 hour wait" she clasped her hands together professionally.

"Typical" the blonde grumbled out, her skin becoming itchy and her face faltering with every breath she took.

"Or opportunistic" Wednesday thought aloud, unclear whether this was deliberate or not Enid looked at her with doubt.

"Do I even wanna know?" She asked but before the Seer could answer Enid had doubled over in pain only looking up to bare her fangs towards Wednesday.

"Enid your fangs are captivating" Wednesday stepped forward daringly raising her hand up to Enid's face. She seemed captivated, smitten absolutely entranced by the sight in front of her.

"Again thanks but umm Wednesday I feel all jittery and nervous and helple-" her words wavered as Wednesday ignored her and grasped Enid's chin with her hand, lifting her chin ever so slightly to examine her features.

"I have that effect on people" she stated, while Enid groaned. Wednesday was well aware that her so-called off putting presence was actually rather appealing to plenty of students at Nevermore. She blamed goth culture for this and put it down to mindless mass adoration.

"It's not you it's the full moon" she let out a breathy laugh, watching Wednesday's eyes scan across her face before meeting her own. Although she had acknowledged that realistically she could be having these thoughts about anyone and the fact that it was Wednesday Addams meant this wasn't exactly true.

"Listen if you would prefer to lie to yourself to make you feel better then that's absolutely fine... But I'm almost 100% certain you're also nervous because of me" Wednesday's lips twitched with the threat of a smile as she looked down at Enid.

"Bit full of yourself aren't you" she attempted to snark at her but her words became drowned in a low growl when she felt another sharp pain in her side.

"Not entirely" Wednesday told her honestly "But..." She moved her hand to stroke up the werewolf's cheek and held it in place. Enid's sharp breath slowed as she steadied her breathing and raised her head to look at the pale girl in front of her.

Wednesday guided Enid upwards and she straightened her body, following Wednesday's eyes and letting the girl guide her into a now standing position. Enid's mouth opened as if she was going to speak yet no words came out. She remained speechless at how rapidly the pain had subsided with nothing but a light touch to her cheek from the captivating woman in front of her.

"Feeling better?" Wednesday asked, although it was obvious she knew the answer.

"What was that? What did you do?" Enid asked, taking into consideration that Wednesday was basically a Witch so who's to say that wasn't just something of a spell.

"Nothing" she spoke, uninterested, removing her pale hand from her warm cheek. It was clear to Wednesday that Enid was in denial so she would be patient and let the blonde come to her own conclusions.

"That wasn't nothing Wednesday the pain just completely disappeared!" Enid was shocked at the own volume of her voice but she couldn't help it, she was absolutely baffled.

"Again I did nothing, no spells, no remedies just good old fashioned healing properties of contact to an animal experiencing touch withdrawal" she explained but Enid still stared at her accusingly "In fact it won't last long you should be experiencing the same discomfort in about 3-2-1 ..."

And of course on cue she kneeled over in agony "Ahhhh" she screamed, followed by a harsh and loud growl as her claws shot out aggressively. "Wednesday what are you doing to me?!" She strained out, pleading up at the Addams Girl.

"Enid... It perplexes me how little you know of your own species" Wednesday scolded her instinctively.

"No I know werewolves have a chance of going into heat before a full moon but Its not suppose to hurt-urhhh- this much is it?" Enid questioned her, while still clutching at her sides.

"Only when denying yourself the touch of someone who is as alluring as I am I'm sure" Wednesday smirked again and Enid bit her tongue to avoid outing herself further.

"You didn't get told about this and you didn't have any surpressants? Do you even have anyone who teaches you these things honestly it's-" Wednesday was about to lecture Enid on her own species, she had had a fascination with werewolves and thier behaviour ever since she was a little terror.

"Fuuuuck ow! Touch me again" Enid groaned out cutting Wednesday off and inching forward. She couldn't help it the pain was unbearable and it wasn't like she wasn't attracted to the Addams girl. In fact the truth was she knew exactly why her wolf had guided her to Wednesday and it sure as hell wasn't for pills.

The words came out much more sexual than she had intended and this was clear when the raven haired girl's eyes went wide before a smirk grew on her face once again.

"Excuse me?" She tilted her head, still unfazed by Enid's pain, although it did disparage her to admit she wasn't enjoying it like she usually would. Torture was a topic Wednesday was an expert in. But when she was not inflicting it herself and the innocent girl in front of her was not only beautiful but didn't deserve it, it was less appealing to her sadistic side. Enid also fell under the rare list of people Wednesday didn't intend to bring any harm to at Nevermore, so she couldn't even enjoy this.

"Touch me!" She growled out harshly, baring her fangs and lunging towards Wednesday with ferocity.

Wednesday moved swiftly to the side, allowing Enid's claws to narrowly miss her face as she reached the side of her. But in one brave move Wednesday caught the werewolf around the waist, spinning them both around and moving her back into her arms.

Enid gasped at the movement, mouth slightly open in shock, her arms still lightly swinging at her sides as her whole body untensed at Wednesday's touch.

"Gladly." Wednesday whispered holding Enid in place.

Enid took sharp, shallow breaths panting as she looked into Wednesday captivating eyes. She only looked away when she felt Wednesday cold fingertips grazing lightly up her forearm. Her thoughts turned primitively crazy but her body completely settled as her eyes followed Wednesday's hand.

"This is such a bad idea" she visibly gulped, but there wasn't a single urge in her mind, body or soul that wanted to remove herself from Wednesday secure grip.

"Exhilarating though isn't it?" Wednesday pulled Enid closer with a light tug and in response she moved her arms up to wrap them soundly around The other girls neck. "Now watch this" she whispered softly against Enid's lips before closing the gap between them with no resistance from the werewolf.

Their lips collided in a passion filled frenzy, Enid's hands travelling around Wednesdays body gripping at her clothes, feral with the other girl's touch and letting her impulses take over.

Wednesday smiled into the kiss, infatuated with the idea of Enid desiring her to the point of self destruction, only pulling back to ask "Are you sure?" Out of respect for the werewolf.

The absence of Wednesday's lips caused Enid to blink out of her amorous state and pant breathlessly. Wednesday stared at her awaiting confirmation of consent.

"Yes I'm sure" she nodded frantically absolutely infatuated with how incredible it felt to finally kiss Wednesday.

"Because I was just teasing-" Wednesday tried to give further information and the opportunity to change her mind.

"Wednesday" Her own name sounded melodious to her ears,coming from Enid's mouth.

"Yes little wolf" she allowed a small reassuring smile to grace her lips.

"Touch me" she connected their lips again, finally allowing herself to fully submit to her animalistic urges with none other than Wednesday Addams. WEDNESDAY FREAKING ADDAMS.

Hope y'all enjoyed 😋 This turned out way longer than expected but I had fun writing it so...

[voxasks]

–    G  U  I  D  E  L  I  N  E  S  .

     ⭑      BLOG  INFO.

this  is  an  independent  roleplay  ask  blog  (wow  that’s  a  mouthful) .

i close my inbox when it gets to 30 asks so i can get through them quicker and reopen asks quicker.

vox  has  an  editor  (me)  who  manages  half  of  the  blog  and  writes  out  his  responses  to  send  out.  vox  knows  he’s  speaking  with  the  living  world  but  doesn’t  know  he’s  in  the  show  called  ‘hazbin  hotel.’

       ⭑      CRITICISM.

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       ⭑      PORTRAYAL.

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this  one’s  specific  and  it  is  actually  the  reason  i  had  to  do  a  heavy  update  on  my  guidelines,  but;  i  have  had  people  come  into  my  inbox  saying  they  take  pleasure  in  indulging  in  the  following  :  dr*gs,  m*rder,  ab*se,  s*icide,  sh,  and  more  along  these  lines.  asks  like  these  aren’t  allowed  unless  you’re  clearly  joking  or  using  it  as  an  expression.  however,  merely  mentioning  these  topics  IS  allowed.  i  understand  some  people  will  still  not  be  comfortable  seeing  it  being  used  as  such,  but  as  someone  who’s  had  experience  in  the  last  three  topics  listed,  i’m  not  easily  fazed  and  do  not  wish  to  censor  this  blog  too  much.  here  are  some  examples  of  what  i  do  not  allow  : 

asks with harmful phrases such as ‘k*ll yourself’ will be deleted, same goes with other phrases of a similar vein.

if  you  are  stickler  for  canon,  in  all  technicality,  vox  probably  wouldn’t  condone  asks  like  these  either  to  keep  him  and  his  brand  highly  professional / lighthearted to put others at ease.

the  rest  is  only  the  obvious  :  i  will  not  condone  homophobia  and  racism,  and  will  not  be  entertaining  asks  over  political  views. 

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       ⭑      RESPONSE  TIME.

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       ⭑      UPDATE  LOG.

03.04.24   —   more  clear  guidelines  hehe

03.07.24 — inbox closes at 30 asks .

[artemisia-black]

I was browsing your Sirius tag for therapy and I have some quick thoughts about Sirius and lewd jokes:

There’s a high chance Sirius was raised with the policy of “private life stays behind closed doors.” I think that’s a lesson he did adapt (ie: to Harry, “Nevermind me, what about you?”).

And his Kreacher snogging his mom’s trousers quip is pretty mild. I also don’t think he’d go as lewd as the fandom likes to portray. I can see sly quips with a significant other something along the lines of “Why are you asking me if it’s alright for you to walk around the house shirtless/in a bra? Of course I don’t mind 😏”

Or if Sirius decides to give into his significant other caring for him when sick, he might be a smart ass and request they wear something on the risqué side. Not like, full sexy nurse getup, but like form fitting robes that show some cleavage or something like that- but when it’s just the two of them.

And that’s the key- just the two of them. On top of all of this, I think he’d make sure his partner was entertained by any jokes like that. He’d want to “know his audience,” so to speak.

I can also see him making only subtle lewd jokes with the other Marauders if the subject seemed ripe for one - but really, with only James when they’re joking around. Especially since I can see Peter going crass and Sirius getting disgusted and Remus being too uptight for such a thing .

Side note on muggle clothes: I can see Sirius and James etc actually wouldn’t be wearing a lot of muggle clothes until the war- they’d need to know how to blend in for stealth if they’re trying to stop an attack. Muggles wouldn’t think anything of a pair of teenage hooligans wearing shirts with the Phoenix emblazoned on them- to them, they’d look normal. To wizards that are familiar with the concept of the Order, they’d think they were being arrogant dumbasses

I completly agree. On occasion, I have him make a crude joke. It's to someone he trusts, and it's never directed at them.

In Dog and Deer, I have him say:

"In any case," he continued, "I think they should be grateful that Regulus has found an actual human to speak to; maybe it'll stop him from spending his evenings whispering sweet nothings into our mother's knicker drawer."

But this is him attempting to cover up the fact that he's deeply hurt and his attempt to appear flippant.

I also agree that he's actually quite a private person when it comes to his emotions. He definitely isn't someone who airs his dirty laundry (hence retreating when his emotions get bad).

Also re the clothing: other than the Elvdendork prequel, he's never described as wearing muggle clothes. I also find it interesting that despite being cooped up in Grimmauld and his hygiene taking a dive, he's never described wearing Pajamas, or anything overly informal.

[m-jelly]

Levi X Reader where she makes horrendous jokes and stuff. Like just sitting at the table in the dining hall and someone says something outta line and reader is like “ Instead of being a little bitch, how about you go pull some for a change?” Or something like “ Hey I get why you’re such an asshole, I would be to if my dick was the size of a thumb.” It can really be any type of outta pocket joke. But how would Levi react to that. Can this be non established relationship so he is still trying to hide his admiration but when she says stuff like that it’s gets hard and he just full on laughs at one of her jokes one day infront of everyone

@kenkopanda-art <3

Funny joke

Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Genre and tags: Canon world, fluff, hidden feelings, mutual pinning.

Concept: While gathered together in the dining hall, you are cracking your usual jokes and setting Hange and Mike off laughing. Levi enters the hall and notices you right away. He hurries over to take his spot next to you and enjoys how you rip into others. You crack one joke that sets him off laughing so hard that it shocks everyone.

Warning: There are some very rude and crude jokes and comments made by the reader.

Taglist: @levisbrat25 @ladycheesington @skittlelover69 @li-anne @nyxiieluna @notgoodforlife @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @nbinairyn @demonsimp6

Levi was exhausted and in desperate need of sleep. He wanted just to rest and he wanted you. Levi had strong feelings for you and had held them for a while now. He wanted to tell you how he felt but he wasn't sure how to go about it because he'd never felt this way about anyone before.

He released a long sigh as he dragged his heavy feet down the stone hall. He cringe a little when he heard the loud voices of cadets and fellow vets coming from the lit up doorway. He paused in his tracks and huffed another sigh as he got ready to face a rowdy bunch of people.

He turned the corner and saw the hall was full. He scanned the room with his tired steel blue eyes until his heart skipped a beat. He locked onto you as you grinned at Mike laughing hard. Levi felt a blush creep over his cheeks. He hurried through the hall and collected his food and tea.

You turned your head and smirked at Levi as he sat next to you. "Alright, Captain?"

Levi cleared his throat. "Lieutenant."

You winked at him before turning to Mike. "Seriously Mike, I'm pretty sure you're dealing with a tree in there. You'll knock a poor woman out if ya turn and she's on her knees."

Mike laughed. "You might be right."

Oluo clicked his tongue. "Do you have to be so crass?"

You smirked. "Why don't you stop sucking on Levi's towels to get his body fluids inside you so you can be him and just accept you have gnats dick so we can all move on with our lives. Honestly, it's getting a bit sad now."

Oluo blushed hard. "I'm not-!"

"Bet you snort his dandruff."

"I would never!"

You smirked and mocked his voice. "Oh Levi you taste so gooood."

Everyone started laughing hard, but one laugh seemed to cut through everyone. You all slowly turned to look at Levi laughing so hard he was crying. You blushed bright red at seeing the man you adored so much getting a kick out of your joking and banter.

Levi wiped his tears away and cleared his throat. "Sorry."

You smiled softly. "Don't be sorry. I'm honoured you find me funny."

He cleared his throat. "You're hilarious and very right. He does seem like he does all that."

You hummed a little laugh. "He does, right? I love your jokes too. You're so funny."

"Thanks." He felt so happy in his little world with you, but then he noticed a strong gaze on him. He slowly looked over to see Hange grinning at him. "Tch, fuck off four eyes."

You stood up and sighed. "Well, I'm off to my office. Thank you for the fun chats, but I gotta work."

Mike glanced at Levi. "Hm, Levi?"

Levi peeled his eyes from you walking away and looked at his tall friend. "Yeah?"

He nodded towards you. "Follow her. Go to her office and help her with paperwork. She's seen you in a different light. It's not or never."

Levi shot to his feet and nodded. "You're right. I'll go to her."

"I won't wish you luck because I know that the next time I see you both, you'll be a couple. So, see you soon."

Levi bowed his head a little. "Later."

[agent-cupcake]

what's your process on writing dialogue, and do you have any tips? i feel that no matter what i do, what i write is cringey and robotic.

MOST IMPORTANTLY, you're going to be your own harshest critic. People reading fanfiction are familiar with the characters, and their imagination can fill in a lot of what you might think are weak points. Also, practice is basically the biggest factor here, no amount of advice from a hack fraud like myself will matter if you're not out there on the grind.

BUT I'm an egomaniac and love talking about myself so here is my process and advice.

I watch/listen to their scenes a million times and pay attention to intonation, physical movements, vocal quirks or way of speaking. Emet-Selch, for example, uses archaic English words and is very formal VS OPLA Buggy who is a snappy, crass boy.

I write the scene so I know what their dialogue has to convey and get a general idea of mood and tone. Sometimes I do dialogue only, sometimes I just skip dialogue and leave a note about what they need to say. The point is that I've got material to work with.

Reread the bullshit I have just spewed out onto the document and have a minor breakdown about how terrible of a writer I am.

Remind myself that I am God and everything I type is gold.

Work and rework the lines while referencing canon material, reading them out loud (which helps to check the cringe factor too), and making sure the conversation and dialogue work together to have the scene do what I need it to do. I am garbage at technical editing but almost every piece of dialogue in my stories has probably seen at least some revision to fit it to the scene and character. The most important thing for me, ultimately, is that I can imagine exactly how the character would deliver the line. I've mentioned it before and I will again that getting Buggy's "voice" right was hard for me.

As for advice, tagging dialogue is your friend. In my opinion, it is the best way to make the dialogue flow more naturally. People very rarely speak in unbroken monologues. They're gonna be gesturing and moving and pulling faces and all that sort of stuff. You'd be surprised how much of a difference adding something as simple as a 'he said' can make when it comes to the way the dialogue is read. Words aren't entirely static, there's power in creating visual space between things on the page itself.

Since you're asking me specifically I'll use an example from my own writing for what I mean. I think there's a valuable difference between-

“Hey. What’s with the attitude?” Buggy asked.

and

“Hey,” Buggy said irritably, reaching out to tug on one of your twintails to force you towards him. You yelped, grabbing his hand. “What’s with the attitude?”