#He saves that all for not giving a shit about my sibling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blublublujk · 4 months

Text

closer

oneshot

word count: 12.7k

genre: step-siblings to lovers, dead dove (proceed with caution)

pairing: dongsaeng jungkook × noona reader

summary:

Jungkook had always known there was something wrong with him when he realized his obsession with his Noona was far too intimate consider their relationship, but she was perfect for him. Can anyone really blame him for falling in love with his beautiful older step-sister?

warnings: [PLEASE READ] dead dove, eat with caution (they are step-siblings and it's a bit romanticized), there's mentions of the pairing as minors but nothing too oversexualized and in detail, mentions of violent behavior (not towards reader), mentions of jungkook possibly being asexual or gay (he's not lol), pairing has shit parents and jungkook's father is an alcoholic, parent issues to the max, petite reader (fit the plot better), explicit sexual content: dirty sexual thoughts, jk has a huge dick and he jacks off so much, someone's a virgin in this and it is NOT the reader, there's a lot of crying in this one, jungkook probably needs therapy and the reader lol, extremely possessive and obsessive jungkook, DADDY KINK, hickeys, unprotected rough vaginal sex, dubious consent but they both want it, dirty talk, the reader slaps jungkook, squirting, blowjob, cunnilingus, come tasting/swallowing, slight ass play, choking, multiple orgasms, passing out and overstimulation, creampie, pregnancy (oopsie)

a.n: well i have no fucking words. im actually a bit shy and embarrassed to release this after my last post but we move on! this wasn’t apart of my drafts either SIGH. wrote this because i was insanely horny and ovulating so have fun ig. please enjoy it nicely. i certainly did. if you look past all the dark stuff you might find it’s actually pretty hot. i cant even believe i wrote this. im really scared … if anyone is crazy enough, please comment your thoughts. tempted to do more of these deranged stories. since tmr is christmas i leave this as a final parting gift for this year though it has nothing to do with chirstmas. byebye angels and merriest of chirstmas to you all <3

—> m.list

—> find me on ao3 & twt

Jungkook has officially hit rock bottom.

He has officially lost his mind. Again and again he comes back to what he knows he shouldn’t and knows that, but he’s only a man after all. Can anyone really blame him?

For the third time that night, Jungkook has fisted his cock empty. The younger’s dick was raw and swollen– sticky from the amount of beatings he had pumped. His ballsack had nothing else more to give him and Jungkook started to grow frustrated. His dick was still heavy in his palm, aching for something he knows he could never fucking have. It simply wasn’t fair.

Jungkook pants loudly, wiping his dirty come all over his black sheets. He’s dripping sweat and he feels his dick might fall off if he keeps masturbating this much, but it was simply impossible. He’s a growing man after all, it was totally normal for him to have such a high libido. His doctor even said so (he asked him during a typical yearly routine exam and the professional confirmed it was more than normal, that usually as he ages he’ll simply grow out of it). Jungkook doesn’t even believe him anymore. The more he fucks his hand, the more he grows the urge to stuff his cock in his step-sister’s tempting pussy.

He knows it’s disgusting. He tried to overcome the disgusting need to fuck her until she begged for more, the compulsive thirst to eat her juicy pussy from behind, the lustful desire to ruin her for anyone else that dared lay hands on his older step-sibling. Jungkook has had too much time to think about these sinful– incriminating thoughts. He imagines how his step-sister would look all heavy and round, carrying Jungkook’s seed for nine months straight. What amazing mother she would be. He thinks about this all the time.

And he’s not just saying this out of his ass. His step-sister saved him. He had one-on-one, firsthand experience to all her angelic glory. She’s patient, extremely caring, and she’s the sweest thing he’s ever known. Jungkook is in love with her.

Can anyone really blame him? His Noona is the best. He’ll say it over and over, a million times until the whole world gets to hear it because his Noona deserves that and much more.

Jungkook believes he’s the only one that could please his Noona. He truly believes that there is no better man in this world for her than him. He doesn’t care how selfish that seems. His Noona has been hurt too many times and Jungkook has unfortunately witnessed it all. Every heartbreak, every break-up, every stupid relationship he has had to tolerate. He falls sick to his stomach every time because he knows she deserves so, so much more and only he could do that for her. He knows how happy he could make her.

After all, only Jungkook knows what is best for her.

Jungkook hears the living room door close hard, the house shakes from the harsh movement. The noise startles him from his current position. He quickly wipes the come off his abdomen and the sweat off his body. He’s sure he probably stinks or at the very least his room does, but the heavy footsteps coming from the stairs worry him more.

“Noona?” He calls out and nobody answers him, by the time he’s shoving on the first pair of sweats he can find his bedroom door opens wide. Jungkook still has sweat dripping down his bare back, praying that it goes unnoticed. He simply got carried away, fucking his cock into his hand for thirty minutes straight.

“Noona…” Jungkook reaches out the second he hears you whimper. The second he has you in his arms you completely let go. Tears stream down your face with no plans on stopping and Jungkook feels his heart break in two. In a way, he feels conflicted.

On one hand, he’s extremely upset about whatever caused you any trouble and he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you. Buy you your favorite ice cream. Take you to watch a movie. Cook you a yummy home meal. He would do anything if it meant he could make you smile again.

But on the other well, Jungkook’s fucking pissed. He needs to know exactly what happened, who fucking did this to you, and how the fuck he even let this happen. He’ll kill whoever did this to you. He will. Jungkook would do anything for his Noona, even if that meant killing someone with bare hands.

“What’s wrong, Noona?” Jungkook’s gentle when asking the question, watching you cry your heart out. The younger rubs circles into your back, comforting you in a time of need. “What happened? Tell me. Jungkookie will help.”

You sob into his chest hard and Jungkook can’t help the way his insides flare. He wants to burn the world down. That way, nobody can harm you and he can take care of you like he’s meant to. Jungkook was born to love and care for you. He feels that deep in his (dark) heart.

“Oh, Jungkookie…” He keeps rubbing circles, desperate to make it all go away for you. His Noona didn’t deserve this.

“I found the messages.” Between hiccups, you cry harder trying to explain the problem. It hurts. It hurts so bad, maybe you’ll never be good enough. For him, or for anyone.

“What messages, Noona?” Jungkook’s nose bumps into yours, cautious doe-eyes stare down at you. Fire lights deep inside them, but they don’t scare you because Jungkook could never hurt a soul. Not your innocent little step-brother. Certainly not your sweet dongsaeng.

“S-Seojun’s.” You have trouble breathing and Jungkook pats your back softly, being extremely patient, but deep inside him, he can’t wait to beat Seojun’s ass regardless of whatever you say next. “He— he cheated on me.”

Jungkook no longer exists in the same universe you do. The first thing he sees is red. Jungkook’s going to fucking murder Seojun. How fucking dare he!

How could he ever cheat on you? Seojun must have a death wish and Jungkook can’t wait to deliver his wish personally. He should cut off each fin—

“Jungkookie… m-my heart hu—hurts.” He snaps out of the dark space in his head and starts drying your tears with his thumbs.

“Noona… he— he doesn’t deserve you.” Jungkook starts, holding you up with a strong grip. He could feel your squishy breast pressing hard against his upper stomach. In a different moment, different situation, he would have popped a boner and it would have been extremely awkward. Jungkook is not small in any sense but he’s a bit insecure. He wonders if you would love the feel of his huge cock invading your guts, but that’s for another time. “I’ve told you this before but you deserve someone that doesn’t make you question their love for you. Someone that loves you so much it could kill them. They should love and care for you so much that they would be willing to do anything for you. You shouldn’t have to deal with this, Noona. He doesn’t deserve you. Nobody does. They can’t ever love you. They won't. You’re safe here Noona, I love you.”

“My sweet Jungkookie…” You sigh as tears begin to slow down and stick to your face. “That’s right. Only you could ever love me this much I think. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook snaps. If anything Seojun should be crying buckets, begging for forgiveness and mercy because after Jungkook’s done with him, he’ll regret ever meeting you. Jungkook can’t wait to make the motherfucker pay for his unforgivable crimes. “He’s just a coward. Not a real man.”

“Oh my Jungkookie, when did you become so big? Huh? So grown up.” Your tone wavers as you continue. “You’ve always been such a romantic. Isn’t that right? Noona’s so proud of you Jungkookie, the best dongsaeng I could ever ask for.”

Jungkook melts with every compliment.

When you first met Jungkook, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. He would get so fucking nervous around you. His stomach would flip whenever you stepped into his line of sight. He doesn’t remember a time he didn’t have the biggest crush.

Like anyone else, Jungkook assumed this was nothing but a minor crush. It was his first crush. Jungkook didn’t have experience with girls or dating for that matter. He wasn’t at all interested in any of that. For a cool minute, the younger assumed he must be gay, clearly it was the only explanation that made sense at the time, but then he realized not even then he felt anything. His best friend, Taehyung is extremely gay and pretty handsome (if he must admit), but he could never be with him, much less fuck the man.

His next thought is he has to be asexual. Jungkook didn’t ever think about sex, much less want to participate in any sexual activity. The thought used to disgust him. There was no one worthy. No one he would like to stick his dick into. Jungkook was broken!

Then, his father came home one night, shit-faced couldn’t even hold himself up. Jungkook had to carry him to bed that night. He was only fifteen years old, he had no busy doing that, yet had no choice.

“Son. W-Wan you to meet someone tu—tomorrow.” His father begins, Jungkook winces when he reels him in close, breath stinking of some sort of strong alcohol. “Yu— got you a ma—mother. S-Stepmother.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. He doesn’t need a fucking mother. Jungkook is happy with the way things are right now. Just him and his dad. No matter how broken their relationship is. He doesn’t need a mother.

“Appa, I don’t—”

“Quiet. Shh.” His father ends the conversation with a finger tap to his mouth. Forbidding the younger to get another word out. Jungkook feels he could sob because knowing his father, he was impending doom. “Sleep now child. Come here. Sleep with Appa.”

That night, Jungkook unfortunately sleeps in his father’s bed which reeks of musk and cheap cologne with a hint of mixed perfume. He doesn’t sleep all night, worried that he’ll wake up and his father will have choked during his sleep. He’s afraid that if he turns his head, he’ll find his father dead. Maybe that would have been better. That his father never woke up that next morning. Then he wouldn’t be stuck in the situation he was in today. His father’s at fault.

Jungkook’s father brings his “step-mom” over the next day and Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel. He hates her. He absolutely despises her. Jungkook feels it in his heart that she will completely ruin his life.

Jungkook already has a mom. She died giving birth to him. It’s not her fault. Jungkook’s mom is incredible and he’s heard great stories. Nobody will ever compare to his mother. Even though Jungkook never got the chance to meet her, he knows he would have loved her and she him. In another lifetime, Jungkook would have loved to spend his entire life in the warm arms of his mother.

What he wasn’t expecting was his step-mom to bring company. Jungkook obsesses from the very, very start.

“Jungkook-ah, meet your step-sister, Y/N. She’s two-years older than you. They are moving in with us, so I hope you will be a good dongsaeng to your Noona. We’ll live as a happy family from now on. Ain’t that right, Yeobo?” His father leans in kissing his step-mom with passion. Jungkook thinks if the situation was different he would have thrown up the sandwich he had for lunch, but as he looks up at you, he finds you playing with the ends of your sweater. You’re tiny. He doesn’t believe you’re older than him. You can’t be. Barely seventeen, but you have yet to grow into your lady parts. Jungkook couldn’t stop staring at you. Your lip was swollen from how hard you were sucking it from nerves. This had to be just as difficult for you as well.

With careful steps, you stretch your hand out, making peace with your new step-sibling. “Hello Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you. I promise to be a good Noona. I look forward to moving in. I hope you can accept me. I promise to take good care of you.”

The younger almost falls to his knees. He’s never seen a more beautiful smile. Jungkook takes your tiny hand in his. His hand is bigger than yours, he’s tempted to compare sizes. He’s even slightly taller than you. Jungkook puffs his chest thinking about how he’ll only grow taller. He’ll soon tower over you.

Jungkook doesn’t even say anything to you that night. Not a single word. He can’t. He shakes your hand awkwardly with a deep blush setting on his cheeks. Jungkook promises one thing. He promises to care for you too. That promise stays in his head for now, but Jungkook is certain now. He’s definitely not gay and he isn’t fucking asexual. Not anymore. Not ever.

Since then, it’s like you’ve been attached by the hip. Jungkook grew to become a man. Now twenty-three and you twenty-five. And you grew into a woman besides him.

He was the best dongsaeng you could ever ask for. Jungkook was sweet. He would cry about everything and anything. While trying to get closer to one another and build a bond, you thought it would be a good idea to watch classic romance films. Jungkook would cry to every single one. A true romantic at heart and you, being the best Noona ever, would be there to comfort him. Like you would your own baby brother.

Back then, you used to dream of having siblings, you’re extremely lucky you get to live that with Jungkook. You didn’t mind that he was a big cry-baby, it was endearing that a boy could have so many emotions and show them without holding back.

He was extremely sweet. Jungkook was protective, like any usual brother was. Always looking for ways to watch out for you and even though he was the younger, he took care of you, a lot.

Your mother wasn’t present much. And his father was much worse. They simply weren’t there. Not then, not now. But Jungkook was there. He was the shoulder you could cry on, the person you could run to, the only person you could fully depend on. Jungkook was always there.

Jungkook was very kind-hearted, so innocent and pure. He was never the kind of guy to bring girls home. Talk about sex. You aren’t even sure if he’s ever had a girlfriend or even ever had sex for that matter. He even watches his mouth around you. He doesn’t cuss and he certainly doesn’t act out. He’s a very good boy, the best and kindest dongsaeng.

“Thank you, Jungkookie.” You pull him closer, hands wrapping around his solid back, with a sniffle you question. “You— you’re hot?”

Jungkook blanks, very confused. Were you realizing your love for him? Is this the way it will happen? Jungkook’s not sure he wants it this way. Not after he just helped you get over another man. He hopes this time for fucking good. He cannot bear hearing about Seojun and his stupid face ever again.

“Do you have a fever, Jungkookie? You’re sweating!” You start to pat him all over, trying to measure his temperature with your hand. “Oh no my baby, let’s get you to bed!”

Jungkook nearly awes. You went from having one of your worst days to completely being concerned about his well being. The younger beams in relief, he’s lucky his Noona is clueless. So fucking unaware. Doesn’t even realize the sheets are still filled with his filthy release. All thanks to her beauty.

“I’m okay Noona, you should head to bed. It’s been a long day.” The younger leans in for another hug, a thank you for being so kind.

You keep insisting. “But you’re dripping! You have a fever, Jungkookie!”

Jungkook chuckles with you in his arms. “I worked out before you came home. I didn’t have time to shower. I don’t have a fever, everything’s okay. ”

You fake a gag. “Yuck! Don’t even warn me either! Jungkookie, you’re an animal!”

Oh, if only you knew. :)

Jungkook doesn’t allow you to slip from his arms, only holding on tighter.

“Scared of a little sweat, Noona?” The younger teases with a sly smirk.

“When it's you, yes. Don’t want my dongsaeng’s sweat on me.” Jungkook tries to look past the “when it’s you” because what the hell does that mean? Would you like sweat if it came from someone else? Would you touch him if he was someone else? Would you lick it off if the situation was different? Jungkook swats all those thoughts away. He almost popped a boner and he doesn’t understand how that’s even possible after the day he’s had today. He is done for today, but his dick sadly has a mind of its own.

“Whatever. Go sleep!” Jungkook unfortunately has to let go which is the worst part, but is surprised when you’re blushing against his still, very bare chest, your smaller hand resting on his abs.

“Can… can you come sleep with me Jungkookie?” You get so shy Jungkook has to hold back from babying his own Noona.

Like music to his fucking ears. Of course, he’ll sleep with you. He silently thanks Seojun for being a fucking dumbass. Jungkook’s about to pick up all the pieces he just broke earlier and never, ever give them back.

“Don’t get all shy on me Noona, of course I will! What type of dongsaeng do you take me for?” Jungkook dramatically in offense holds his chest.

“Only the best, my sweet Jungkookie, but go shower first. You reek.” The younger gasps, feigning offense.

“No I don’t!” Jungkook is quick to defend himself, coming close so he could smell his pits. He’s probably smelled better, but he actually doesn’t smell, not that he knows of. If anything he’s surprised his room doesn’t reek of that crappy lotion he uses to get himself off. “See!”

The taller brings you in once more and you push him off hard. “Absolutely not you maniac! Go shower now!”

“Fine!” Jungkook gives up and just as he’s about to retrieve the stuff he’ll need for his shower, he asks. “Your room or mine?”

He silently prays you pick your own because he cannot stand the smell of his own room any longer. Plus you still have yet to notice the come on his sheets. Jungkook would be so embarrassed if you saw his soiled bed like this. His Noona deserves nothing but the best. A clean, comfortable environment. His room was probably a safety hazard right now and he wasn’t willing to risk the chance for conversation.

“Mm, mine!” You decide with a pretty smile.

“Okay, Noona. I’ll be there in five. Don’t wait up for me.” With one last hug and a kiss at your temple, Jungkook goes off to shower and you retreat to your room.

Yes, it was a bit strange. Sleeping with your grown step-sibling and all, but that’s the bond you and Jungkook had grown. The bond was so strong. You guys did just about everything together and by each other’s side. There was never anything super strange about that to you.

Your friends once commented how it was just a bit weird. The strange relationship you carried with your step-sibling and that maybe you were just slightly a bit too close. That made them uncomfortable.

Every time they would come over, Jungkook was just there. Jungkook always came first. They heard it too many times and saw it with their own eyes. When they finally decided to speak to you about it, you freaked saying it was nothing like that! Your relationship was nothing short of platonic, if anything. Jungkook was just your sweet little dongsaeng. Nothing more, nothing less. What was so strange about that?

After that, your friends never brought it up ever again. There was no use. You would never see things in the way they would. It still made them uncomfortable from time-to-time, but Jungkook made you so happy so they kept to themselves for your sake.

Jungkook rushes while in the shower. He scrapes his body clean and practically flies out the shower. Jungkook knows it’s useless right now, but he applies a bit of his costly cologne. Only because he knows you love it so much, you compliment him every time he wears it. Since then, he has bought at least eight more times because he doesn't go a day without wearing the damn scent. He knows you will likely be dead asleep by the time he gets to climb in bed, but he wants it to stick to his skin and last until tomorrow then you will cling and smell the cologne until your nostrils get used to it.

With one last look into the mirror, Jungkook makes it to your room. The younger is obsessed with your room as much as he is with you. Your room smells, tastes, and looks just like you.

Every time you aren’t home, Jungkook practically lives in your room. The amount of times he’s masturbated in this exact bed. Your sheets are incredibly soft, very pink and the best part is you leave your scent all over them. Jungkook smells and smells your honey-like scent until he grows desperate, then he’ll make a mess all over himself, being careful so he doesn’t leak into your sheets. However, sometimes he’ll catch himself leaking all over your stuffed animals. The younger doesn’t even feel bad about it, not one bit. He probably should, he’s disgusting and shameful. For now, Jungkook lives with himself and his rancid thoughts.

When Jungkook gets to your room, he finds you already fast asleep, leaving the left side of your bed open for him. The younger salivates when he sees that your blanket isn’t covering your body, not at all. It’s almost like you’re inviting him, the whole world wants him to fail miserably and you clearly don’t care about his well-being.

By now, Jungkook is used to the way you dress. It kills him inside whenever he watches you walk out the house, perky breasts and that fat juicy ass tempting every walking man alive the minute you step out that front door. When you’re off to bed, you wear these little boy shorts that drive him insane because they cover nothing. Your plump ass falls right out from the stretchy material and Jungkook desperately wishes he could touch and squeeze until his heart’s content, but he would never touch you without your consent. He’s not an animal!

“Kookie?” He hears you slur in your sleep, small grabby hands reaching for him. Jungkook immediately places himself in bed, letting you wrap around his broad, strong figure. Even in the dark, he can see your ass hanging from outside your shorts. You must have gotten hot while waiting for him given that your blanket was nearly kicked down to the floor. Jungkook doesn’t care to pick it up.

And why would he? He’ll keep you warm now.

Jungkook falls asleep with ease that night. His nostrils breathing that sweet scent and your light calm exhales lull him straight to dreamland, where his dreams consist of a love so precious and extremely forbidden.

The next morning, Jungkook wakes up before you, which wasn’t usual at all. He was used to finding you up and running bright and early, cooking him breakfast before leaving to work, like you usually did for him.

Before he even gets to open his eyes, he feels something push up against his stiff morning wood. It’s almost like he feels something constantly rocking against him, little-by-little. Jungkook shoves his erection deeper into the pillow-like sensation, chasing the enticing— irresistible feeling.

Jungkook’s hips start moving on their own accord, pushing and thrusting into the soft feeling of clouds. His morning wood grows tenfold when he hears a quiet whimper. He only drives his cock faster and further into that unknown realm, searching for heavenly release. Cock heavy and aching inside his briefs.

The younger almost jumps out of the bed when he hears the prettiest moan. He’s heard this delightful sound before. Only his Noona has the sweetest of sounds. He hates to admit it, but he’s heard these same moans before. And they didn’t come from his own doing, but Seojun’s. There were nights Jungkook couldn’t catch a wink of sleep because he overheard his step-sister getting fucked for hours on end.

…

“Fuck. Oh my god. Don’t stop.” He would throw his pillow over his head and squeeze, praying the fucking ended soon which it probably did because Seojun was disappointing as fuck. Pathetic fucking punk. He prayed for that or that he suffocated himself to death, either was fine for him. As long as his suffering was put to an end.

You sounded fucking perfect though. Jungkook could admit that easily. His Noona sure had a filthy mouth on her. Jungkook wanted to plug it with his fat cock. He wishes it was him instead and maybe one day it will. For now, he’ll continue dreaming.

“Yeah? Like that?” Seojun would grunt while Jungkook rolled his eyes until they would hit the back of his head. He couldn’t do this anymore. Jungkook knows it’s as easy as bringing it up, but how could he look at his perfect step-sister and say that to her! He simply refuses.

“Yes, like that. Yes please. Fuck, fuck, fuck— nghh!” And Jungkook was truly the worst. He could only hold himself back so much!

Jungkook rips the drawer open in his room, feeling around for lube, lotion fucking anything that will get his dick wet and when he finally finds it, he squirts a considerable amount and starts fisting his slicken cock. He grows thicker in his own hand. Jungkook wonders how his cock would look if it were your hand instead. He moans just imagining the idea.

“Coming.” Seojun’s muffled groans also echoed in his room. He doesn’t know how you do it and to be frank, he wishes Seojun would just shut the fuck up and do his job. The younger smirks knowing he’s struggling, leaving you in disappointment. He’s positive he’s never had his dick wet for more than ten minutes. What a bum! Can’t even please his girl.

Jungkook hears your moans grow louder. He swears he can hear them ringing in his fucking ears. Like you purposely wanna get caught. Jungkook gets too much into his head because he starts growing desperate, nearly coming all over himself.

If the situation was different, Jungkook knows he wouldn’t stop fucking you until you were passed out. It was only fair. You needed a real man, someone who could satisfy you without question. He knows he could do it. Fuck being experienced. Why does someone need all this experience if Seojun is proving that even by being a manwhore that doesn’t guarantee you a happy sex life or jackshit.

Point is, Seojun sucks and Jungkook will imagine it’s him instead of that lame fucker. He’ll imagine it’s him that’s making you feel all those things, that’s making you scream into the pillow. Though if it had really been him, Jungkook would snatch that pillow away from your mouth. He would want to hear every single sound that comes from your pouty mouth. Fuck, Jungkook couldn’t wait for you to be his and only his.

That night, Jungkook came all over his hand, some landing on his face. He wishes you were there to lick it clean.

…

Even in his fucking dreams, Jungkook feels like he can’t catch a fucking break.

His hips still, he doesn’t wanna further embarrass himself by humping into his step-sister’s ass like some horny desperate teenager. Jungkook knew this was a terrible idea, especially considering that he’s had the hardest time keeping his dirty— filth of thoughts to himself. Jungkook didn’t know how much longer he could live without knowing the taste of that perfect little pussy. How snuggly you would fit around his huge cock. He knows you could take him so well, you were made for him after all.

“S okay Jungkookie, ‘s normal. Noona isn’t mad.” The younger pretends to be asleep while he hears you babble in sleep, but you know he isn’t and to save his dignity (and yours) you allow it. Jungkook can’t help, but to think maybe you wanted it too. Was that crazy?

You both fall back to sleep. This time Jungkook gives you a respectful distance so he doesn’t commit the same mistake as before and when he wakes up, you act as if nothing happened and Jungkook appreciates that. He had the absolute best Noona, always looking out for her dongsaeng, no matter the situation.

As the days pass, you and Jungkook spend a lot of time together. Maybe it’s because you are single again or maybe it’s because you just wanna spend time with your (not so) little step-brother.

Jungkook’s the happiest. He no longer has to listen to you talk about Seojun and he gets to spend all the time in the world with you. For some time, he believes things are perfect.

Every night, you fall asleep on his chest. Waking up in his arms and Jungkook falls in love harder. Sometimes he steals kisses while you are sleeping. You wouldn’t mind, right?

He kisses your chubby cheeks, kisses your cute button nose, he’ll even kiss your smaller fingers, one-by-one. He has yet to taste those plump lips, but he doesn’t doubt they don't taste of flowers and honey.

“Jungkookie, you think you could fetch me my shoes? I left them near the closet door.” The younger hears you call out to him and being the good step-brother he was, he snatches your shoes up and starts walking away. It seems you forgot something else because Jungkook snaps his eyes to your phone, which starts buzzing with notifications.

Jungkook knew your password of course, you didn’t hide anything from your baby step-brother and he knows it would be wrong to invade your privacy, but he simply wants to see who it is. There’s absolutely no harm in that!

The taller snatches up your phone, disconnecting it from the charger and he sees red for a minute.

Three missed texts and two missed calls, in bold texts your phone reads, Seojun❤️.

He immediately smashes in your passcode without hesitation and any permission. What he finds is absolutely disgusting. Jungkook feels sick.

Seojun❤️: i miss you baby :( been thinking of that pussy can’t wait to stuff you full soon

Jungkook goes back to the messages from before, his ears are hot. He doesn’t know whether to scream or cry his eyes out.

Seojun❤️: coming over

Asshole doesn’t even ask for permission, just does what he feels is right and that only riles Jungkook further.

Me: don’t can't tonight jungkook's home

Good girl, good Noona. He knew he could trust you, if only this asshole understood that you didn’t need anyone else and left you alone. Jungkook took care of you just fine. Just you and him. Always.

Seojun❤️: that never stopped us before?

Me: jun, please. not tonight.

Seojun❤️: so when? you guys are close again or what? you know how i feel about that guy.

Jungkook’s burning inside. He knows how you feel about him? The fuck was his problem. Jungkook’s tempted to smash your fucking phone in pieces. He’ll buy you a new one and it certainly won’t have this asshole’s number.

Me: he’s not just some guy. he’s my younger brother. of course we are close. soon. i’ll come see you soon.

Seojun❤️: step. step-brother.

Me: what does that have to do with anything jun? he’s like a little brother to me.

Seojun❤️: can he say the same?

What. The. Fuck.

Jungkook was gonna kill this stupid fuck.

Me: don’t talk about him that way. talk to you later.

Seojun❤️: whatever.

Then Jungkook rereads the messages over and over again. He’s fucking fuming. The younger hears the door before he hears you coming.

“Jungkook.” Your voice drowns in his ears. He snaps a mean gaze towards you, your phone is in his hands and he’s shaking. “Oh Jungkookie… I can explain.”

Jungkook throws your phone, landing hard against your bed, it bounces and falls to the floor. You jump in fear, your eyes widen, mouth parting slightly.

“Don’t. I’ve seen it all.” Your step-brother’s voice trembles. His voice is cold and rough around the edges. “How fucking could you Noona?”

You gasp at the sudden use of cuss words. Jungkook doesn’t cuss, not in front of you, not ever. He was a good boy, a very good boy.

“Jungkook, listen—”

“Shut up!” Jungkook snaps harshly. Those doe-eyes turn violent. “How could you!”

“H-He— we were just testing the waters.” You explain with a pout, your tears already threaten to fall. Jungkook isn’t a yeller. He never loses his patience, no matter how upset he could be, but you’ve officially cracked him.

“Testing the waters?” Jungkook ridicules with a dry laugh, eyes rolling. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re back with him.” The younger one says as if it’s a statement. His tone is sharp, dripping of disbelief and hatred. Jungkook scoffs. “I can’t fucking believe you, after everything!”

“Puh— please stop yelling at me.” Jungkook’s eyes soften for a little when he hears your voice shake and eyes dampen with tears.

His voice is still rough as he continues to spew the fire. “You really think he could keep you happy? That he could satisfy you? When will you finally see it, Noona? He’s fucking pathetic. Loser excuse of a man.”

Your pout grows bigger and you start crying softly, embarrassed that the scolding is coming from someone younger, coming from the one person that should be learning from you. Shamefully, you can’t even look him in the eyes, you avoid his sharp gaze and continue crying pretty tears.

Jungkook keeps spitting his words at you and you can’t bear them much longer. “You really think he will ever know what is best for you? That he could provide for you? I bet he—”

“And you do?!” You yell between your blur of tears, feeling like shit.

“I do! I fucking do. Everything I do is for you, for us Noona. I’m here working my ass off to rebuild you and you let him break you over and over! Aren’t you sick of him? Sick of this? Because I am. I fucking am. I hate him and I hate that you let him come between us!” The taller uses his height to his advantage, towering over you while he spews his truth.

“For me? For us?” You speak in disbelief, scoffing and wiping off your tears roughly with your long sleeve. “Jungkook, you speak like we are together! This isn’t normal. The way you care for me, it— it isn’t normal. You should be getting lost in the lights at your age, dating around. I’ve never seen you even speak to another girl besides me! It’s strange! Plus, Seojun… he’s truly the only one that cares for me. Besides you.”

Jungkook explodes. The taller tugs you towards him, a strong hand on your throat while he squeezes mercilessly. You immediately wrap your hands around his wrists, trying to shove him off, but Jungkook’s much taller, much stronger than you are. It’s no use, the more you pull, the more he tightens his hold. You struggle to breathe, hiccuping dry tears.

“I really tried to do this your way Noona. I tried to be patient and do this at your pace, but you’re fucking clueless. I love you. Don’t you see it? Of course I care. I’ve always cared. I’ve loved you since the very first day. I tried to overcome these emotions but the more I denied them, the stronger they became. I let them consume me. I’ve never been more at peace, but I can’t stand here and watch you ruin yourself any longer. I can’t. You and Seojun are done. Do you understand?” Jungkook’s hand is still on your throat and you just nod desperately, hoping that he lets go some time soon.

You should have known, should have seen it coming. People warned you, at least, they tried. You wouldn’t listen and refused to believe it (or see it). Jungkook wasn’t a bad person, he still isn’t. He’s just confused and young. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s not in love it’s just fascination, yeah, you’ll say that for now because it makes you feel better. Not because you definitely feel something splur in your own (tainted) heart.

“Good baby, good. I never wanna see, hear, or know anything about that stupid fuck ever again.” Jungkook loosens his grip a bit and you immediately take a gush of breath. “He’s not good for you. Never will be. You deserve so much more Noona, isn’t that right?”

Between a few tears, you keep nodding.

“Yeah, only Daddy knows what’s best for you. Right?” The younger one doesn't even blink when saying the words. For a second, you think about who he is referring to as daddy, but then you realize. This was so fucking wrong, and yet you feel yourself slipping already. Maybe he was right. What’s the point of denying it? “Only I could ever love you the way you deserve to be loved. Uh baby?”

You nod with a muffle cry.

“Speak.” Jungkook orders. “Tell Daddy that he’s right. Let me hear it.”

“Y-Yes Daddy.” He hears you sweetly comply and even through a blur of tears, you see him smiling down at you.

“Good, good girl. Now, give Daddy a kiss baby.” Jungkook leans down and you hesitantly meet him halfway. The kiss is very sweet considering the pressing situation. Jungkook curls his lips around yours like there’s nothing off or wrong about this situation. He doesn’t seem to mind this at all, like he’s been dying to get to do this with you. You don’t know whether to be happy about that idea or fall sick to your stomach. Either way, you continue to kiss him.

The taller pries your mouth open with his tongue and you allow him access, pouty lips slack. Jungkook sucks and licks into your mouth, greedily tasting the juices on your tongue. His tongue clashes with your messily, spit mixing in the process. It's dirty and filthy. And it is extremely wrong.

You feel so guilty because you’re the older one of the two. You should be the one putting a stop to this, but the more his tongue explores your mouth, the more you dip into the dark— alluring abyss.

“Been dying to do that.” Jungkook breathes into your lips savoring the taste of your salty tears and cherry chapstick in his mouth. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited.”

You whimper quietly and the younger soothes you in his arms. “W-We shouldn’t, Jungkook, not yu—you.”

His smile wavers for a second. “Don’t be scared, Noona. Who else other than me huh? Who can love you like I love you?”

You close your sad eyes to imagine what would have happened if you just came to grab your shoes yourself, wishing you had done that instead. You would have seen your phone and picked up the call instead. This was so wrong. With a deep sigh, you let the darkness consume you too.

“I love you, Noona.” Jungkook whispers, his eyes awfully speaking the truth.

“I-I love you too.” The taller smiles and kisses you once again, this time you don’t even fight it. You don’t hesitate. You take time to enjoy the feel of his lips moving passionately against yours and let yourself be loved. For once, you feel loved and that’s enough for you.

Jungkook takes your cheeks in his calloused hands and starts kissing everywhere. Leaving his trace all over your face. He kisses your nose, your forehead, your lips again. Jungkook brings his nose across your jaw, leaving little pecks here and there. When he reaches your neck, he starts licking and sucking every inch of sensitive skin, hoping to leave his marks behind.

The younger is satisfied when he sees the dark spots he’s left to beautifully decorate your skin.

“Open.” He taps two fingers against your mouth, wrapping his other hand around your neck and you slightly slack your jaw on command. Jungkook shoves those two fingers into your mouth, pushing them down against your wet compliant tongue. He watches you struggle to take them further, gagging a few times around his sloppy fingers. Jungkook was right, you look so fucking good when something is fucking your mouth. “So good for Daddy.”

Whining against his fingers, Jungkook pulls them out. Cock already feeling tight and heavy inside his pants. He couldn’t wait to get out of these and you weren’t doing any better. You could feel slick start to dampen your panties.

“So pretty, Noona. The prettiest.” Jungkook starts to kiss you again. It starts off a bit slow, but there’s hunger in the way he looks at you. He’s waited so long for this moment, he doesn’t wanna hold back any longer. The younger wants to let it all go tonight. It’s only right. There’s no more hiding, no more secrets. Jungkook was gonna claim what was so rightfully his.

“J-Jungkookie, maybe we should–” The taller licks into your mouth before you can continue and you grow really desperate, feet shuffling from nerves. You need to stop this before it gets any further, before it gets to the point of no return. “Wuh-we should s-stop.”

Jungkook ignores you. He sucks and bites your bottom lip into his mouth and you’re starting to lose sense of everything so quickly. Suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is at your throat again, but he doesn’t squeeze it. He just holds it, kisses around your face with gentle movements. “You have the nerve for sure Noona, don’t you think you owe me an apology. Huh baby?”

“I– I’m sorry.” Jungkook would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on the way you quickly adapted and complied.

He shakes his head, squishing your cute cheeks together, tempted to kiss them both and he does after he’s done speaking. “That simply won’t do. Think that’s enough for everything you’ve done to Daddy? For all the hurt you caused? Get on your knees baby.”

And what else can you do, but drop on your fragile knees. The second your knees hit the hard, cold floor, you whimper in pain.

“Hurts? Here, my love.” Jungkook awes with empathic doe-eyes, without hesitation he reaches for one of your softest pillows and places it down below your knees, helping you onto the comfortable cushion. “Better?”

It is shocking and not at the same time, how quickly Jungkook seems to be okay and fine with this whole thing. If it’s true that he’s been dying to do this for years then in a fucked up way, it kinda makes sense, but it doesn’t change the fact that you guys are family, on paper and in every way that it matters. Your parents are married for fuck’s sake.

“Yes.” You simply respond and Jungkook smiles contentedly.

“Yes what?” He asks, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You hesitate, but end up giving in. Does it even really matter anymore? The deed had been done. You fucked yourself over the second you let him take control of the situation. Jungkook owns you. “Yes Daddy.”

Jungkook towers over you, thick muscular thighs stand tall before you. He hums satisfied with your response. “Open up wide for Daddy.”

The taller has quick hands on his belt, snatching it off himself. Then he pulls his jeans down and tosses them aside without care. He keeps his briefs on for now. Jungkook needs to have you work for it, just a bit. It’s his right after all.

“Pull my dick out.” He rasply orders and you gulp at the sight. He’s packing, you can’t even see it yet, but you are sure the real thing is not much different. Your hands shake as they come up to the waistband of his boxers. You’re about to see your baby step-brother’s cock and you don’t even seem bothered enough to care.

Carefully, you pull them down slowly, revealing inch-by-inch. The tip of his dick pops out first, his slit already dripping pre-come. You practically salviate, gums aching to feel the weight of it on your tongue. Jungkook swears he might fucking burst all over your face before he even gets to stick it in. Though he hates Seojun’s guts, he kinda gets it now. Your soft touch on his sensitive girth nearly makes him shiver.

To be fair, it is Jungkook’s first time! He’s never, ever done this before. He saved himself for the only person that deserved to have him. It was easy for him actually. There was not a damn person that made or could ever make him question his choice. He knew from the very beginning, it was you or no one else.

Jungkook would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit terrified. He doesn’t wanna ruin this whole thing, he’s seen plenty of videos online, mainly through Twitter courtesy of Taehyung. Jungkook is extremely grateful. Seriously, he doesn’t know what he would have done without him. He doesn’t trust much people, but when he confessed at his grown age of twenty-two that he was still a virgin during a night of mixed drinks, Taehyung simply brushed it off and told him there was nothing wrong about that!

Taehyung understood him to some degree. Sex is an intimate experience and you should only ever share it with the people who you truly love, but he was a manslut, through-and-through, so he couldn’t comprehend how Jungkook has lived so long without it. Major respect and props to him, but Taehyung could fucking never.

Either way, Taehyung would send clips here and there as pointers to what some people could possibly like and enjoy during sex. Jungkook took plenty of mental notes, he was beyond ready. He shouldn’t be this nervous, but now that he has you right where he wants you, he’s shaking inside. He doesn’t know how sex workers do this on the regular.

Finally, his dick is out, the whole nine-inch monster and you don’t even have the ability to face him anymore. His cock weighs heavy on your smaller hand. It’s the perfect fit, Jungkook thinks.

With a shallow swallow, Jungkook tugs your head toward it. His tip leaks a bit and Jungkook hopes you don’t notice that he has no clue what he’s doing. After watching porn for so long, he can only hope that everything he’s doing so far is pleasurable for you both.

“Lick it.” He says, voice rough and you do as told.

Cautiously, your pink tongue slips out and experimentally starts licking. The second your moist tongue is on his cock, Jungkook’s guttural moan escapes his throat.

This was gonna be much harder than he thought, but Jungkook’s been practicing. Jungkook is determined to last longer than any other fuck you’ve ever had. He’s determined to be the best and show you exactly what you’ve been missing, wasting all that time on stupid fucks that could never please and love you the way he could.

“Open wider baby, yeah just like that.” Along with the tip of his cock, Jungkook shoves his thumb inside. Your mouth is so wet and warm, taking him exactly how he imagined you would. The younger wonders how much more you could take.

“Gonna fuck your mouth now.” With one last warning, Jungkook plants his feet firmly and thrusts himself deep, causing you to gag so prettily around him when the tip hits the back of your throat.

Clearly, you aren’t used to taking so much cock at once, Jungkook supposes he could go easier on you. But do you really deserve that from him?

Jungkook doesn’t think so.

So he fucks into your mouth harder and faster, his thumbs cleaning the tears that run down your face. Jungkook doesn’t hold back any sounds, he moans roughly when you suck a bit harder on it like you want it to hurt him. Good thing Jungkook likes the pain. It’s why he tatted himself so many times. Jungkook embraces everything, even punishing pain.

“Easy with your teeth baby, don’t wanna hurt Daddy, do we?” The younger is a bit taken back when he sees you nod furiously, mouth full of cock, struggling while taking him deeper. God, you truly do look the best this way. “Oh? How will Daddy fuck you then silly?”

You whine muffles with his girth down your throat, secretly rolling your hips on the pillow, rubbing friction against your clothed sex.

“Huh? What’d you say?” Jungkook teases as he continues to brutally fuck your sloppy mouth, spit leaking down your chin. “I can’t understand you. Sorry!”

But he’s not sorry, not one bit! He practically eats you alive with his eyes, feeling the heat start to form in his stomach. Jungkook’s ready to come.

He forces you to deepthroat him with a ruthless thrust, pushing your head down on his length, as far as you could go. Jungkook doesn’t dare let go until your eyes water beyond control and he doesn’t hear you breathe through your nose. When he releases the tight grip on your head, you are desperately breathing heavily, coughing spit.

“Puh—Please.” Your voice breaks. Jungkook looks down and almost feels bad, you look a mess. Pretty little mess. “N-No more.”

He considers it, but he won’t let you go that easy. “Make me come, then you can beg for mercy after.”

Even after all this, Jungkook’s words surprise you. How? How was it fucking possible? For so long, you believed Jungkook was a certain person, a kind-hearted, romantic sweetheart. In a way, he still is. Jungkook truly believes that this was meant for him. That his whole purpose was to be yours. He never showed this side of himself ever and maybe that’s why it terrifies you. How much is he capable of and how much are you willing to give up for him?

Jungkook throws his head back and moans loudly when you start sucking with purpose, your intentions set clear. He’ll come within seconds if you continue like this.

You don’t let up. If he wants to come, he will. You suck down hard, taking his cock as far as your throat allows. There’s no need to lie, Jungkook tastes and even smells amazing down there. You’ve always known he’s been a clean freak, but he really does take care of himself well.

Gargling him down, Jungkook starts to whine and slow down his pace, but you continue your menacing behavior, sucking him off the way you imagined he would like it. And Jungkook starts seeing stars. He knows that after this, he’ll never want to not do this. This was much, much better than fisting his own cock. You’ve completely ruined him.

“I— I’m gonna come.” Jungkook says and almost immediately comes, bursting his release inside your mouth. “Swallow it.”

There’s no doubt that you won’t. You continue sucking until he’s completely empty and swallow him down.

Jungkook’s eyes are unrecognizable. Not that he looks any different besides his fucked out state, but they are so sharp and dangerously sexy. “Show me.”

You stick your tongue out as far as you can and show him how nicely you’ve cleaned up after him, Jungkook could come again.

Once he’s satisfied, his rough voice booms. “Come here.”

You stand on two feet, your cunt is surely dripping because you feel your panties sticking to your folds. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take you back in his mouth, not bothered one bit about the fact that you just swallowed his semen. He licks into your mouth like he’s famished, tasting himself on your tongue. Jungkook doesn’t know how he will survive without this now.

“Lie down. On your stomach.” Even though you’ve pretty much gone as far as you can with this, you still hesitate. Maybe it's your guilt or maybe it’s because you are liking this much more than you should, that you still comply even when you shouldn’t.

Your pillow gets left and forgotten where it currently sits and you lay down, stomach pressing into the mattress. Jungkook pats your head and you nearly purr.

“Lift yourself up baby.” Jungkook’s so fucking hard still, he doesn’t get how this is possible. Staring at your perfect petite figure, he starts to get it. “Gonna take these off now.”

Jungkook slowly tugs on your shorts and you shake your head, stopping him once again, your hand flies to his wrist. “N-No.”

“Don’t make me tie your hands Noona, be good for me pretty.” And once again, Jungkook wins. You don’t see yourself winning any time soon. “Gonna undress you now, keep those precious hands away from me for now.”

Repeating his actions from earlier, Jungkook pulls down your shorts and your ass falls right from out the lousy material.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, taking in the view as you whimper softly. Your ass is even better, almost bare, your fat pussy peeks through your thin panties. He runs his finger along where your slit should be, feeling your slick dampen his fingertip over the fabric, moaning quietly. The large wet spot on your soiled panties, told him all he needed to know, you wanted this just as much as he did.

With his index finger, he curls his finger along your waistband and brings your panties off as well and the sight doesn’t disappoint. Jungkook licks his dry lips and starts to get to work.

The younger spreads your folds into a “V” and sticks his nose so far into your glistening cunt without warning. Jungkook starts to eat you out like never before and you crumble, moaning and squealing against the feeling of his perfect lips munching on your dripping pussy.

The taller doesn’t let you get any further, heavy-hand on your hip while he keeps you in place. He slurps your sweet slick into his mouth, swallowing down every drop greedily without any fucking plans on stopping soon. Jungkook has found his purpose.

Jungkook was made to eat your fat juicy pussy. There wasn’t anything better than this. Not even the blowjob felt as good as this is making him feel. Jungkook knows that it has nothing to do with your skills or anything of the sort, but because he loves the way you push and pull away from him. The more you run, the more he feels like chasing. He’s addicted to the strangled sounds that escape your lips, crying out loudly against your will. It was perfect!

You squeal when you feel him suckle on your sensitive bud, playing with it between his teeth. He’s almost tempted to bite, but he’s hurt his baby enough. “S good Noona, tastes like candy.”

His words vibrate inside your cunt and you already feel your climax coming in heavy. He was gonna drive you insane!

“Please… oh my god. Please. I can’t.” You swear you feel Jungkook smiling even as he’s eating you out, nose deep inside your cute little cunt. Guess that answers his question, you are definitely enjoying yourself way more than you should.

“You can baby, you fucking will.” He nearly growls into your folds, licking and eating everything he could swallow like a madman. Jungkook didn’t wanna stop until you had nothing more to give, until your pussy stopped oozing out that sweet essence. But it seems the more he licks, the more that squirts out!

Jungkook doesn’t mind though, not at all, not even one bit. He’ll eat your pussy until it kills him.

“Ohhhh, nhmmm fuck. I- Daddy, I’m cominggg.” He hears your fucked out slur and sucks harder on your clit, lapping at all the juices that kept drizzling down. He’s surprised to hear you call him Daddy, he didn’t ask you to, but you were so good for him either way. Jungkook didn’t need to ask anymore, you were so far gone to care about anything else when his tongue kept slipping inside your messy hole.

“Come on my tongue baby. Come for Daddy.” With a strangled cry you come and Jungkook feels the second you explode, because your pussy almost flushes out everything it can give him. He sucks it all up though and doesn’t stop until he feels you trembling under his touch, barely holding up. “Good, so good for me baby. God, I love you.”

Jungkook tosses his shirt aside because he’s grown super hot and looks down at your fucked out figure. All he did was eat pussy, imagine what else he could do with that humongous monster cock he drags around.

He didn’t fail to notice how pretty your tiny hole was from behind, both of them. Jungkook wanted to eat your ass too, but maybe that was for another time, when he gets the pleasure to focus on one at a time.

“Turn around for me baby.” The younger one softly speaks.

There’s a bit of a struggle, but you land on your back successfully and whine when you see his bare figure. Jungkook’s worked his ass off to get it. He’s so strong and shredded, but nonetheless, the sight of his sculpted body makes you drool nearly every time.

“Gonna put it in now.” The way he says it throws you off, he seems a bit embarrassed, shy maybe? And it doesn’t make sense because not even seconds ago, the younger was so confident about every little thing he was doing to you, ruining you entirely for anyone else.

“W-Wait.” You rush, pushing your hand against his chest. Jungkook freezes in place, his hand already wrapped around his cock. “Condom?”

And like that, he snaps again, those once innocent doe-eyes turn dark again and you regret even reminding him. “We won’t be needing that silly Noona, I’m gonna fuck a baby into you and you’re gonna be the perfect Mommy. Won’t you?”

You wanna shake your head so bad, your mind is screaming at you to say no, to fucking stop him before it’s too fucking late, but your body speaks for you. Your pussy keeps leaking your arousal and you can’t believe your reality. You want it so bad, you don’t really care what comes with the consequences of your actions. If your step-brother wants a baby, well then…

“Isn’t that right Noona? You’ll be the perfect Mommy.” Jungkook’s voice sounds sinister and you can barely recognize the person he is. “Daddy will take care of you both. Don’t you want that? Huh my love?”

With sick, deranged thoughts in your head, you slowly nod in agreement and Jungkook scrunches his nose into a sweet, kind smile. “Of course you do. You're the best Noona. Gonna fuck you now okay?”

You nod again. This time, you pry your legs open for him. Letting him use you the way he wants and needs. Jungkook licks his lips and takes his heavy cock in hand. Before he lines it up, he spits perfectly along his length, coating his dick all around so it could slide in without further complications and then he pushes the tip inside.

The minute you feel the intrusion, just the fucking tip, you gasp loudly, trembling into his surprisingly gentle touch.

“C-Can’t. Won’t fu—fit.” You say breaking between whimpers.

Jungkook’s gaze is dark and heavy on you and he gets right into your face when he whispers the next words. “Oh but you will. You already did.”

Just as you are about to question him, in one powerful blow, Jungkook thrusts himself all the way inside your tight velvety-walls and you run away from his hold.

And like always, there’s no point. Before you realize it, Jungkook’s pulling out and ramming back inside you. Doesn’t even seem bothered by the painful whines coming from your lips, his eyes are too focused on the way his cock disappears into your perfect pussy.

There was no better way to lose his virginity, Jungkook thought. This was exactly what he’s been fucking missing all his life.

The pain simmers eventually and it starts to feel overwhelmingly good. Your pained whimpers turn into high-pitched cries and Jungkook sticks his face into your neck, moaning roughly against your ear while he continues to work his way into your walls.

Jungkook will never, absolutely never, go back to his fists. The heat, natural slick, and tightness. His fists don’t even come close.

Skin is clapping on skin, brutally setting a rapid pace. His dick is so sensitive right now, he’s surprised he’s even lasted this long. Jungkook doesn’t even know how fucking long it’s been. Or if your guy's parents will come home soon. He doesn’t even give a fuck. You are his.

His to fuck. His to play with. And his to love.

“Gonna come so deep inside this pussy. Gonna make sure you end up swollen and pregnant once I’m done with you. Noona’s so tight.” He breathes heavily into your neck, sweat dripping from the younger.

His words start to rile you up for some reason. Do you even get a fucking choice? The dicking is almost that good you let yourself fall for a few seconds, allowing Jungkook to fuck into you like some fuck-doll.

Without thinking, you reach for his fluff of sweaty hair and tug. Hard. When he comes up to question you, you slap him so hard that his face snaps towards that direction.

Jungkook’s merciless pounding stills.

For a moment, all you hear is heavy breathing, yours mixed with his. It takes Jungkook a while to look back at you and when you do dare look into his eyes, all you see is dark, dark lust. Lots of it.

Jungkook pulls you in roughly from your throat for a bruising wet kiss. His cock slips from inside you and you whine into his mouth at the loss. You already want him back inside, you took it for granted.

The taller chuckles dryly, almost too sexy for his own good when he catches you grinding your folds desperately against his wet length. “Baby already misses Daddy’s dick. This is how it’s gonna be huh? Okay. I’ll play by your rules baby, don’t fucking say I didn’t warn you.”

You don’t even get the chance to catch your breath when you are already pressed face down into the mattress. Jungkook parts your fat ass, slides his cock between them and teases your sweet little hole menacingly.

Jungkook slaps his cock down a few times, the whole nine inches, right onto your dripping folds. They practically were screaming for attention and not to worry, Daddy was home. Slick would stick to his cock, maybe he should make you lick him clean.

“Why?” The younger one hears you crying softly.

“We’ve been over this Noona, only I’ll ever love you how you deserve to be loved. Stop worrying so much. Want you to come on Daddy’s cock. We’ll talk after m’kay?” Jungkook reasons and stabilizes the situation like if you have any choice in this and as if this wasn’t absolutely sick. “Let me take care of you Noona.”

The choice was made before you even realized it.

“Okay… but don’t— don’t come inside Jungkook. I’m not on birth control.” Seojun would always make use of a condom, you forgoing those hormonal-consuming pills. You don’t get to see this, but the younger one smiles wide like if you just gave him the green light. What you don’t know doesn’t harm you. One day, Jungkook thinks.

“Okay Noona, whatever you say.” Jungkook spits on his cock one last time before he carefully pushes back inside. The prodding feeling still leaves you in between sharp gasps and painful whines, ripping right through you.

“Oh my god… Jungkook- too big.” You grab your closest pillow nearly tearing through the thin fabric, using it to have something to tug and bite on.

“Yeahhh, but Noona takes it so well.” Jungkook moans when he feels you squeeze hard around him, basically watching your asshole wink at him too. “Fuck baby, maybe I should fuck this tiny hole too.”

You whimper when you feel his thumb brushing against the fluttering muscle, back arching into the frail sensation. “Mff—no please, I’ve n-never done it. Please.”

“Okay. Not today baby.” Not today or ever again you hope. You pray that whatever is happening today starts and ends today, but for now, you settle for that answer.

But the second Jungkook’s thumb leaves your delicate asshole, he grips onto the fat of your ass cheeks and starts mounting you from behind like an animal. The stretch still burns, not used to taking so much at once, but he can tell when it starts feeling equally as good for you because you squirm on his cock like a worm. He watches you pull away from him, but he’s gripping you hard, feeling that ass bounce back on him. Jungkook curses when he hears you start moaning into your pillows.

“Nu-uh, wanna hear it.” He pulls you by your throat, your back flushing against his sweaty rising chest. In this position, he’s reaching deeper inside your cunt, g-spot being constantly abused.

“Fuck-k-k, oh fuck —nghh.” Jungkook practically soaks in every noise that comes from your mouth, hips clapping hard into your ass. He takes the time to enjoy this, squeezing the fat that jiggles. Maybe he’ll convince you next time to let him fuck your tight ass. After all, he knows Noona could never say no to her sweetest dongsaeng.

The younger sucks more hickeys onto your skin, anywhere that he can really. Jungkook sucks one on the side of your neck, shoulder, and your back. He’s obsessed. Tomorrow he shall do the exact same thing, he’ll keep you on his cock forever now that he knows what it is like. Taehyung was so right. Sex was amazing.

“Let me hear you Noona, think I’ll come just like this.” Jungkook moans roughly in your ear as he continues to pump your walls full of cock, pussy dripping buckets around his length.

You let out moans like water, feeling his dick destroy your insides, he must have rearranged your guts by now. “Think—think m’ gonna come Daddy.”

Jungkook smirks, grabbing your chin roughly and kisses you sloppily, including tongue and all. He loves the sound of his name and title from your pouty, gasping mouth. “Fucked you so good baby doesn’t know if she’s coming or not. Daddy’s the best, isn’t he?”

“Ye–yeah Daddy.” You slur in a trippy haze and just like that, you’re dropped into the sheets again, and flipped with ease in his hold. Jungkook’s dick surprisingly doesn’t even slip out and you don’t know if you moaned again because of the feeling of his dick impaling your pelvic walls or because he can toss you around like some rag doll and have his way with you. Daddy’s the strongest.

Either way your moans are like sin, high pitched whimpers and incoherent mumbles coming from your plump lips like hushed prayers. “Gonna come Daddy, ‘m gonna come ‘s hard.”

“It’s okay baby. Come on Daddy’s cock. I got you.” Jungkook goes feral when he sees the way you practically convulsate on his dick, squirting all over yourself. He’s only ever seen this on those shitty videos Taehyung sends him and he warned him that it wasn't an easy thing to do, not unless done right and when the other person is really into it. Jungkook’s flying over the moon right now knowing that he’s the reason why you can’t help, but squirt messily all over his cock. “Perfect. Noona’s perfect.”

The taller grips your thighs for support, fucking you through your intense orgasm until your inner thighs are all covered in your silky juices, being pounded into overestimation. Jungkook is really close himself and he knows nothing would compare to coming deep inside your walls, but he should respect his Noona’s wishes, at least this once.

“Where should I come baby? Huh? Tell me.” Sweat accumulates on his forehead, dripping loads of it. Jungkook’s thighs burn from the same constant movement, practically bunny jackhammering into your pussy. He never imagined such a practice could be so tiring, he doesn’t even have to go work out tonight!

By this point, you are in and out of consciousness. Jungkook hasn’t stopped splitting you in two, your aching everywhere, but the feeling is mind-blowing. Not even Seojun could make you feel this good, not anyone.

You were in doubt. Jungkook had to have been experienced by the way he fucked. There’s not enough stamina to fuck the way he does. Jungkook’s a beast and he fucks like one too, using your cunt like a toy he can stick his dick into. Your pussy is stretched in ways unknown to man, perfectly molding around his cock, squeezing him in all the right ways. The more you feel his cock pressing into your pelvic floor, the more you start to realize, Jungkook belongs right here. Where he has been.

“Tell me baby. Want Daddy to come all over your pussy, give you a little facial? Tell me— fuck!” Jungkook’s pants grow hot and heavy, his orgasm approaching him hard. His cock is sensitive to the max, but he doesn’t stop, fucking you relentlessly through it all.

Another realization hits within that moment. It’s already gone to the point of no return. You’ve sucked your baby step-brother off and let him drop his seed in your mouth. He’s kissed and licked every part of your pussy, like any good boy would. You’ve let your dongsaeng use your most intimate parts for his own personal pleasure and the worst part is you’ve actually enjoyed it all. Selfishly, you decide he’s the only one that could ever be right for you. Jungkook had been right all along, he was made for you.

“Inside Daddy, wan— you inside.” Jungkook’s hips freeze as he hears you plead so prettily, tears streaming down your flushed face. God, he almost busts the moment he hears your honey-like voice begging for his release. “Please Daddy. Come inside muh— Noona’s pussy.”

“Yeah, want me inside baby?” He goes back to thrusting, but this time it’s slower, more precise and spot-on, deeper. You’ve completely lost awareness of time as well and maybe a sense of who you were to him. Jungkook fucking you senseless and watching you fall deeper into the heat of haze with no remorse or regret. After this, there was no more to discuss, you were completely his.

“Yeah— yeah wan it Daddy. Want it.” Jungkook happily complies, knowing you would come around if he just fucked you good enough to forget that you were off that horrid pill and that he could plant his ssed in your fertile little pussy and give you his child to bear.

His brows furrow as he concentrates on the mess between your legs, it’s beautiful and all his fucking fault. He wants to bury his head into it, but first, he’ll come deep inside that swollen pussy and finish you off. Jungkook takes a moment to adjust and starts jackhammering your cunt again, this time his only purpose is to plant his seed as deep as it can go, claiming even the most sacred parts. Birth control be fucked!

Jungkook’s thrust grow sloppy by the minute and you don’t know how much longer you can take until he’s fucked you completely faint. Mouth starting to feel parched, Jungkook attaches his lips to yours, kissing you through rough strokes. He devours your lips like honey and feels you start to clench around him again. He feels a little gash of juices trinkle along his slit and Jungkook realizes he’s made you come again by the way your walls clench around his cock.

“Fuck baby, Daddy’s gonna come inside now.” All you can do is nod between blacking out, not wanting to waste his precious, healthy come.

With one last growl, Jungkook’s coming deep. The last thing you remember is the heavy weight of Jungkook’s cock twitching and releasing the milky substance across your plushy warm inviting walls.

—-

“Hey honey, how was work today?” Your voice is soft and light as petals while you watch the food come to a boil on the stove, whisking it around and adding a bit more salt for taste while you wait for your husband’s response.

“Fine baby. Had a long meeting with one of our staff members about missing numbers, but the problem was taken care of.” Your husband’s voice is manly and smooth all around, almost husky-like. He goes to kiss your delicate cheek, watching your eyes flutter as he wraps hulky arms around you, bringing your back flush to his front. “Hope you haven’t been on your feet all day, my love. You should be resting, my love.”

You smile at your caring husband, enjoying his musky scent and broad body. “Of course not babe, I’m almost done with the stew. Help me grab a bowl?”

“Mm.” Your husband hums and retreats to grab a bowl from a cabinet that is far too high for your reach with a quick pat to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze. “This one okay baby?”

“Yeah!”

The taller comes back with the empty bowl and you are quick to serve the steamy stew into the dish, always making sure your husband comes home to a warm homemade meal after his long days at work. He watches you from afar admiring the beauty and power his precious wife holds.

You barely had time to pamper yourself today, but you managed to clean up well. Your hair was in a beautiful half-up half-down pony with the cutest white bow attached. Your makeup was perfect, a little bit of everything to fix the small imperfections you saw in the mirror earlier. And the most perfect little flowy dress with flowers decorating the material to fit your current body shape. You were absolutely perfect. An angel drawn to Earth.

“You’re so beautiful baby.” Jungkook whispers into your ear, tickling your neck with his cool breath. “Smell so good.”

“That’s the food.” You both laugh a bit, a hand cupping your swollen stomach pressing himself against your back-end yet again. The feeling was alike anything. He was starting a whole new life alongside the center of his entire world. Jungkook was the happiest he could ever be.

“Nu-uh, that’s all you. Although, the food does smell impeccable. My tastebuds are craving for something else. Can’t wait to eat you—”

“Stop!” Jungkook laughs as you wack his hands away from your belly and continue to serve his bowl full.

“Okay, okay.” Jungkook takes his bowl and waits for you at the dining table, you follow closely behind and sit beside him. “Thank you, Noona.”

You don’t get to hear that word often these days, mainly because it reminds you both of your previous relationship, but the younger one lets it slip from time-to-time, still as sweet as before, always by your side and doing his absolute best to please and look after you and the new addition.

Coming from a broken family, Jungkook never imagined a life could be so simple and beautiful. Lately, Jungkook’s life is like a movie. He can’t believe this all belongs to him, what more can a man ask for. He has the kindest, most beautiful wife and she bears his healthy infant in her huge pregnant tummy. He owns a huge house, working his ass off to get it and established himself pretty early in his career, buying his wife only the best of things. Jungkook settled only for the best and he found that besides you, a true happily ever after, if you will.

The rest is simply history, unimportant through your eyes. The only thing that mattered now is that you were both happy and extremely loved.

The end!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x noona #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x y/n #jungkook smut #dead dove do not eat #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot

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lucrezianoin · 8 months

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Here is how to get astarion approval so high he will proposition you before the tieflings party. No evil choices, just some chaos. The score you want is 40.

Not all of these are necessary btw, if you di all of this you'll get over 40. Avoid what sounds too evil and check that you're getting up to 40. Also remember that for the party romance you actually only need 20.

- When Lae'zel is in the cage, talk to her before releasing her and ask her to say "please"

- Attacking the thieves at the ruined temple

- When Shadowheart mention needing a cure (at camp) make sure to choose the option about being cautious

- When you meet with Zevlor, refuse to help saying you have your own problems. (you can help anyway, don't worry)

- When Lae'zel meets the tiefling and ask him to bow, go along with her at least once, then you can stop her and apologise to the poor man

- When you meet Wyll, you can talk with the guy training the children. Tell the children that they will all die

- After saving Arabella, tell the druid woman that you just wanted to see what would happen

- When you meet Auntie Ethel at the refugees' camp, let her fuss over you and then tell her about the tadpoles

- You know the kid with the magic ring trick? Pocket that ring

- When you meet the two siblings mourning their dying brother, Astarion will approve of you send them to face the owlbear (but I never choose this, because it makes me sad). But I think the big approval comes in the dialogue just next, where you can say that using the tadpole seems like a great idea

- At the blighted village, when the goblin spots you, you will get approval if you attack them back

- Say boooo to Volo

- Open the door where the sexy moans are happening

- At the entrance of the goblin camp, if you can, thow shit at the guard

- There's a goblin that will ask you to kneel and kiss his foot. Uno reverse it, and intimidate him

- Let the cleric at the goblin whip you

- After you free the owlbear, pet them at camp

- Get the necromancy of thay, and the amethyst that fits in it and give it to Astarion

- Recruit Karlach with him in the party

- Killing the monster Hunter will also shoot up your approval of TEN POINTS. I usually never kill him, but if you're close to the party and you really want to get to 40, this is also an option

- When you meet Raphael, agree with Astarion that you should not trust him

- If you decide to do auntie ethel too, make sure to convince her to free Maryna and get the deal at the same time

Now, I think the majority of approval will come with how you talk with him at camp.

- Go along with his dialogue about killing you if there's any tentacle showing. Just play along, don't shut him down

- Go along with the "whose blood would you drink" dialogue. Your answer doesn't really matter as long as you don't shut him down

- When he bites you, of course, offer to give him your blood

- During the mirror dialogue (sometimes it happens pre-sleeping together) you can insult him a bit (you're not aging gracefully), but at the second reply reassure him. The last reply is fine for all the lines and they seem to all get approval, as long as you don't just leave.

In general this is usually all I need to get to 40, which is pretty high. In my last playthrough I managed to also get to 40 without doing many of these.

But as I said, you only need 20. Just remember that he likes being petty and asserting dominance over others, he loves the tadpole, he is cautious, he's a little silly and chaotic, he's selfish, he likes joking and talking so don't shut him down.

Just remember that he's much more explicit about sex being an exchange if you get the proposition before the party, and you end up missing the scene of the party. Up to you! If you see that he's at 40 he will proposition the moment you talk to him, so if you accidentally got his approval too high and want to see both scenes you can technically kill the goblin leaders and free halsin, talk to him, then when you sleep you get directly to the party where you will have the party scene too.

#astarion #Act 1 #Baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #Astarion romance #Most of his approval and disapproval are just 1 point so don't be too worried

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months

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Capture the flag was coming up and your cabin was next to participate alongside the formidable Hermes cabin, but instead of being overjoyed at the opportunity to finally bring glory to your cabin like the rest of your siblings, you were off sulking elsewhere and busying yourself by plucking one blade of grass at a time; unaware that someone had notice your absense and decided to follow after.

‘Hey stranger.’ A voice came from beside said, making you flinch, only to relax when you saw that it was only Luke. ‘Why so sad, you normally love capture the flag.’ He adds, nudging your arm playfully as he flashed you a charming smile.

‘Yeah but after a string of repeat losses, you naturally begin to resent the game you once loved.’ You replied. There was no point denying the obvious fact that you cabin never had the best of luck when it came to capture the flag, it had always been that way even before you first arrived at camp, but at the time all you truly cared about was getting claimed by your godly parent.

You had only started truly resenting capture the flag after your second or third loss by the Ares cabin. Ever since then you hated the game because each time it ended the same, with your cabin loosing while the opposing cabin mocking you by rubbing their victory in your faces. Luke, much like everyone else, was well aware of this but didn’t feel it was necessary to keep bringing it up, especially not when he was trying to cheer you up somewhat and would try to divulge your attention elsewhere instead.

‘Well nows the chance to change all that.‘ he began. ‘To bring triumph to your cabin and be the one to revel in victory for once.’

You scoffed. ‘Yeah because we’ve had the great Luke Castellan, best swordsman in camp half blood, carry us on his back to our first ever win.’ You said bitterly, looking anywhere else than the boy with the dark, kind eyes. ‘What a joke.’

‘That’s not true.’ Luke tried to argue.

‘Yeah it is, you don’t need to lie in order to save my feelings Luke, I’m not stupid and neither is my cabin, why do you think we look our most happiest when any other cabin that’s not ours is up to play?’ You asked rhetorically, knowing that he very well knew the reason why. Luke, not wanting to wave the white flag of surrender then said, ‘even if that maybe the truth then they’ll also have to recognise that out of your entire cabin, you are the most determined and hardworking even in the most dire of circumstances.’ You could only look at him with an unreadable expression as Luke continued his speech.

‘Even when you know you’ve already lost, you still give it your all to make even the slightest bit of change. If it was anybody else, they would just give up but not you, not my y/n.’ Luke said fondly as he clasped one of his hands with your own, smiling softly when you squeezed his hand. ‘You’re too stubborn to accept defeat unless all other options were exhausted. An admirable trait to have if you ask me.’ You chuckled, feeling somewhat better from his words, not entirely but it was better than sulking the rest of the night and well into the next morning.

‘Some people would call that desperation to win.’ You told him as he shrugged his shoulders. ‘Then they’ve obviously never had to fight for something they always wanted but could never have.’ He replied oddly serious, looking at you intently as he said those words; which made you wonder if you were still talking about the same thing. ‘What do you mean by that-‘ before you could finish, Luke stood up abruptly, pulling you up with him as a result of your hands still being firmly clasped with one another. ‘Give me a warning before you pull that shit again, yeah?’ You said, smacking his arm lightly, causing him to laugh.

‘I’ll take that into consideration for next time, but we should probably try and get as much sleep as we can so we don’t look like the walking dead before the game even begins.’ He playfully chided and it felt more of an excuse as to avoid having a deeper conversation about something, but you were already staring to feel the effects from that mornings activities beginning to weigh on you as you tried to bite back a yawn.

‘I second that decision.’ You said, tugging your hand from his own, feeling Luke’s hesitance in letting go and thinking nothing of it other than something your mind made up as you began to depart for your cabin. ‘I shall see you bright and early tomorrow, will I?’ You questioned.

‘Yes but you better not try and wake me up earlier than necessary like last time.’ Luke replied as you made a face. ‘Me? Prank you? I would never.’ You said dramatically at the accusation being thrown your way, seeing you get back to your old self was enough to reassure Luke that you’d be more then ready for tomorrow as he crossed his arms over his chest, brow raised as he smirked. ‘Oh yeah? How do I know you and the Stoll brothers haven’t done something to my bed back at the Hermes cabin, hmmm?’

‘You’ll just have to take my word for it that I don’t have any connections in any one of their pranks that may happen tomorrow, and if they tell you otherwise, they’re dead wrong.’ You said before disappearing up the trail towards your cabin, leaving Luke to watch on as he chuckles to himself. ‘Guess we’ll have to wait and see.’

#pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #pjo tv show

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minhosimthings · 4 months

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Girl Dad!Skz headcannons

Pairings: husband!Skz × wife!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, mentions of pregnancy, reader wears a dress, mentions of food, teensy swearing

A/N: GUESS WHO HAS BABY FEVER AYY ITS THIS BITCH RIGHT HERE. I am so DONE with watching my fav idols play with babies and not expect me to die. WHERE IS MY CHAN WHO'LL GIVE MR A BABY HUH? anyways enjoy my very drunken headcannons

Bang Christopher Chan

DID I JUST HEAR BEST DAD IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD

This man was born to be a dad istg

He'd be so amazing when you're pregnant, like he'd ask his mom for advice, give you belly rubs if your ask and will willingly lend his entire closet to you.

Would be so supportive through the birth process, is not disgusted or anything because he is him.

"She looks just like you."

Would be just a teensy bit overprotective, just a teensy bit.

"And you will bring her back by 7 yes? Oh and what's your address for unrelated purposes?"

*sends the address to Minho incase he needs to murder anyone*

Would be so comforting when she gets her period

"you know I used to do this to your mother.", While massaging her back.

The baby would grow up multilingual and Chan would be so smug about it

"my daughter is my second producer

Lee Minho/Lee Know

Would have such mixed emotions when you tell him you're pregnant

On the one hand A PERSON MADE UP OF BOTH OF YOU? WOAH

On the other hand OH SHIT A PERSON WHO HAS BOTH OUR GENES

Cooks all your weird ass cravings for you but not before giving you a side eye

"Alright y'all are gonna get a sibling." *Is talking to the cats*

Buys everything cat themed

"baby what if the baby is a dog person?"

Y'all have twins, a boy and a girl (manifesting my twin dad Minho fantasies)

Would dance for them when they're babies and would get elated when they try to copy him

Pouts when their first word is mama

Brags so much about them

"I mean they are MY spawn, obviously they're better at dance than your kid, Susan"

Seo Changbin

GIRL DAD GIRL DAD GIRL DAD

So elated when you tell him you're pregnant

PREGNANT CUDDLES KZKSNSNJ

Would be a 100% on board with lifting your belly to save your back

When you find out it's a girl, he straight on sobs.

"I CAN'T HANDLE ANOTHER PAIR OF ADORABLE YN EYES LOOKING AT ME"

Holds the baby extra carefully in his buff ass arms

She looks like you part 2

Tea parties with her are serious buisness for him

"jagi can't you see im currently discussing with the princess about her magical dragon I'll do the dishes later."

Would probably ask her if she wants to go to the gym with her dad and when she says yes he'd be so happy

"you're better than your mother she can't even lift her ass up and go to the gym"

Hwang Hyunjin

When I say this man would paint you a portrait when you tell him you're pregnant-

HE'LL PAINT YOU A FUCKING PORTRAIT

So sweet with you all throughout but also a nervous wreck

Much like me

Would love to paint your belly if you allow him to

Would try your weird cravings with you

And actually like them

Let's not pretend like Hyun doesn't do the pregnant woman pose everyday

Cries so hard when your baby is born

He doesn't mind the gender or anything, but when he found out it's a girl-

"GUYS ITS A MINI Y/N"

She looks like you part 3

Such a clumsy mess when it comes to taking care of her

ART CLASSES ART CLASSES ART CLASSES

"Darling, we painted this for you."

Han Jisung

Immediately freezes when you tell him

Jisung.exe has stopped working

"wait so the protection didn't.... Protect?"

Now Y/N.exe has stopped working trying to figure out whether you actually used protection or not

Talks to your belly all day

Treats the baby like a gossip partner

"girl you won't believe what Hyunjin did today."

"what did he do?"

"yn shush I'm talking to our baby girl."

Is your personal high school cheerleader during the birth

"jagi you are slaying right now you can do this."

Cries when baby is born part 3

Calls her a co-producer part 2

Spoils her shitless

She has him wrapped around her finger, much like her mother :)

Making playlists with her is his love language

Lee Felix Yongbok

Did I just hear breeding kink

Cries when you tell him

Bakes so many brownies when you tell him like one time that you're craving his brownies

Makes your weird cravings part 3

Idk what it is with me and DanceRacha making all your weird cravings

Runs you baths, with bath salts, bath bombs, scented candles and massages your aching muscles I WILL DIE RIGHT NOW

Is the best during the birth, holds your hand allowing you to squeeze it as hard as you want

Dresses baby up like the fashionista she is

Is so amazed and ecstatic when the baby gets an Aussie accent

"JAGI SHE JUST SAID BREKKIE"

Kim Seungmin

Tsundere daddy meow

Will literally melt like his face will be like 🥺

Buys all the cute stuff on day one

I'm talking cradles, blinkies, toys, bonnets for some reason

"of course she needs a ponyo outfit darling come on"

Tones down his teasing a bit

Still makes fun of your penguin walk tho

And if you cry, he will comfort you and never forgive himself for it

Is kinda disgusted by the birth process but he's a strong soldier

Cries when baby is born part 4

Like Kim Seungmin crying is a real thing chat

Singing lessons are free for her, and she has her dad's angel voice!!

Also inherits her dad's roasting style, and she's the only one who can roast him back hehe

He kinda died inside when she told him he was old (he's never been prouder)

Yang Jeongin/ I.N

Bruh this guy istg

Mixed emotions part 2

"IM TOO YOUNG TO HAVE A CHILD"

Calms down eventually (after a slap on the head)

BELLY RUBS

Spoils the shit out of you because obviously

Asks his mum for advice part 2

Sings to your belly at night when he thinks you're asleep

Secretly hopes baby will have his dimple

He loves kids, so parenting is a natural thing that comes to him

Probably more experienced at holding a baby than you are

Feeds her for the first few days when you're tired

Perfect husband honestly he should marry me

Loves braiding her hair and giving her fashion advice

Mini fashion shows!!!

Dances with her a lot

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eoieopda · 6 months

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sweatshirt season | ksy

your fuck buddy is good at a lot of things. taking hints isn’t one of them.

pairing: kwon soonyoung x reader type: one-shot / fluff + smut rating: 18+ (minors do not have my consent to interact) au: one-night-stand to fuck buddies to ? wc: 4.5k cw: gn! and afab!reader (no pronouns used); time skips; protected penetrative sex (p in v); hoshi is kinda a himbo, lmao; ft. cameo by minghao and roomate!gn!sibling OC; reference to the movie they're watching, which is hereditary (brief mention of decapitation + demonic possession); barely proofread, sorry! a/n: this is based on a headcanon i did a while ago! i've been in such a horrible rut re: writing for the past month and a half, so it was a major struggle to write this because i feel like i don't know how to do that anymore 😵‍💫 i'm hoping that himbo hoshi can save me from this hell. also, this is told in vignettes!

[APRIL]

“Babe?”

The voice from nowhere is barely loud enough to drag you from sleep, but the effect it has on you is far from soft. Those consonants dig in where your dehydrated brain shrinks away from your skull, pressing in so hard that they throb.

Bleary-eyed, you blink as rapidly as you can to adjust to the bright, white light beaming in through your open shades. The sound that escapes you is something akin to a hiss; it gets the point across, nonetheless. You sit up just enough to see the figure standing in front of your window, looming overhead with crossed arms, laughing.

Clearly, your roommate doesn’t give a shit or a fuck about your hangover.

“What’s the deal with the stray you brought home last night?” Mei asks, the corners of their mouth tilting wickedly.

You don’t have the brain power for this conversation, so you respond with a groan and bury your face back in the pillow from whence it came. Never one to give up, Mei drops down on top of you so that the full weight of their body rests against yours.

“C’mon,” they urge. “Spill your guts, chingu.”

Funnily enough, if they don’t get off your guts, you might do exactly that.

Your reply comes in the form of a croak, some pathetic little sound that reads as lifeless as you feel. “Why do you care?”

There isn’t a single reason you can think of for their sudden interest in your bad decisions. You’ve been making them left and right for the past few months without much more than a concerned glance, and until now, you didn’t realize that you’d taken the lack of follow-up questions for granted.

What a fucking travesty it is to be perceived.

“Your business is your business.” Mei shrugs. You quirk an eyebrow, ready to jump in and point out their lapse in logic, but then that smirk comes back. “But your business is currently burning eggs in our kitchen, which makes it my business, too.”

Sitting up quickly, the force of your sudden moves nearly knock Mei to the ground. Beyond horrified, you squeak, “He’s still here?”

Faster than you’ve ever moved before, you clamber out from underneath your roommate and crawl to the edge of your bed, kicking wildly at your blankets until your legs are free.

You’re already up and swaying on your feet, panting from the effort, when you finally think to look down and assess the state of yourself. Thankfully, you’d remembered to dress yourself before falling asleep. You glance upward and salute whatever deity was looking out for you, ignore the look on Mei’s face entirely, and dash out of your bedroom.

As soon as you reach the kitchen, you skid to a stop, socks sliding across the hardwood until your hip bone collides with the corner of the kitchen island. You hiss again, far louder than the last time. The shape standing at your stove turns around wide-eyed; his mouth is frozen in the shape of an “o”.

Just as quick, recognition flashes, and the shock wears off.

“Good morning,” he chirps, and he’s all fucking sunshine.

You blink back at him without a single idea of where to start — with the fact that he’s still here after you could’ve sworn he left, that he’s wearing your apron but has no clear grasp on the simple act of frying eggs, or that you cannot for the life of you remember his name.

Fuck.

You should really start keeping a guest book.

Whatever his name is, he’s witnessing you at your worst — certifiably crusty with your standard bad attitude — and that alone makes you want to wither and die, right on the spot. Unbothered by your ghoulish appearance, he gestures to the kitchen island you just collided with, pointing to a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

Items he would’ve had to open two (2) separate cabinets to find.

In the kitchen he shouldn’t even be in.

You open your mouth, primed to explode all over him, but the way he’s looking at you disarms you immediately. His expression is so chipper — so friendly and childlike in its innocence — that you swallow down the shit you’d readily hurl at anyone else. You gulp, and without saying a word in acknowledgement, you grab what he’s laid out for you.

He smiles when you choke down the aspirin, then turns back around to pull the scrambled, half-burnt mess off the burner.

“You must have a pretty low alcohol tolerance if you’re this hungover after three drinks,” he muses.

It’s an accurate observation — a harmless one, too — but you did not ask. Once again, he shoots you a smile that prevents you from snapping at him. Instead, you set the now-empty glass back down on the island and stare vacantly over at him.

Seonghwa?

“You’re still here,” you say flatly. You may be stating the obvious, but that fact speaks for itself. “You’re still here, and you’re also in my kitchen.”

Seokjin, maybe?

He smiles at this, either unaware that he’s violated the unwritten one-night-stand code of conduct or unfazed by his own rule breaking. Rubbing the back of his neck, he laughs awkwardly, “It was the least I could do, you know? After all you —”

What the fuck is your name?

“Sungwoo!” You cut him off with a gasp and a palm raised, all but begging him not to recount what he’s grateful for within earshot of your roommate. “Really, you don’t need to do this. Any of this.”

He corrects you gently, “It’s Soonyoung.”

Then, without even a hint of offense taken, he nods his head towards one of the stools tucked under the counter of the island. Your eyes flit between his hopeful face and the seat, frozen solid with indecision.

You see two options, and both feel like a trap:

Holding the line risks squashing this clueless boy’s marshmallow heart; and you don’t want to be the gash that ruins his day at the very outset. If you feed the stray — rather, if you let the stray feed you — then you’re an enabler, contracting a residency when the show was supposed to be one-night-only.

More perceptive than you’ve given him credit for so far, he senses the conflict inside your skull and attempts to tip the scale with a bread-cheeked smile and a shoulder wiggle. “Your breakfast is getting cold,” he nudges in a soft, sing-song tone.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Begrudgingly, you dump yourself onto a stool without a word. With your elbows now propped up on the countertop, you drop your chin down to rest on the heels of your hands. More than anything, you try like hell to ignore the way it all makes his face light up.

“I don’t understand how you went from demonically hot to…” Your voice trails off as you try to find a word for whatever this is. A beat passes before you give up, waving dismissively. “Domesticated, or whatever.”

And his cheeks go pink.

“You think I’m hot?” He all but gasps, like this is brand new information to him.

Like you would’ve brought him home from the club if he wasn’t — and goddamn, was he ever. Carrying himself with the kind of confidence that made your knees wobble; saying all the right things in a low, smoky tone with his lips at your ear; moving his body in ways that still fluster you to think about.

And yet, here he is.

Adorable, if not completely obtuse.

After grabbing plates from a nearby cabinet, he snags two pairs of chopsticks out of the drawer to the left of the sink. It takes all you’ve got not to roll your eyes. He shouldn’t know where either of those things are, but he does.

A satisfied sigh slips out of his mouth when he takes the seat next to yours and scoots a plate full of eggs and kimchi in front of you.

“Here you go,” he sings as he holds out a pair of your own chopsticks to you.

He’s beaming when you accept them into your hand, and it leaves you with no choice but to take a bite of the food in front of you. Intently and chronically hopeful, he watches you pluck a piece of scrambled egg from the plate, like the trajectory of his life hinges on your approval. There’s no turning back now. Reluctantly, you pop it into your mouth.

While you chew, he leans in a bit closer. From this distance, you can see your own reflection in his irises; there are tiny flecks of honey brown amidst the dark, you realize. Little details you didn’t notice last night when he was much, much closer — like the heart-shaped curve his upper lip takes when he smiles as big as he is now.

“How is it?” He asks, walking the borderline between eager and unbearably shy.

You swallow hard as you snap back to attention. If letting him stay for breakfast was a bad call, getting caught gawking at him is a flagrant foul. Somehow, you need to get the point across without being too cruel; to remind him that you signed up for the night and not the morning.

“Um. Well,” you start with a grimace, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Are eggs supposed to… crunch?”

[JUNE]

“Oh, fuck, just like that —”

Your back arches off the bed as you grip uselessly at sweat-drenched sheets. Between your spread thighs, Soonyoung and the punishing pace he’s set make quick work of pulling you apart, again. His right arm loops under your left leg to anchor you to him while his left palm presses down on your lower abdomen, making damn sure that every thrust drags over your g-spot.

This — this right here — is why you keep calling him back. He may overstay his welcome, but that’s an occupational hazard. His perpetual presence is a risk you’re willing to take, so long as he fucks you like this.

“Shit. You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?”

He’s panting as he says it, which surprises the hell out of you. His stamina is unearthly, and when you manage to keep your eyes open long enough to look up at him, you don’t see any hint of effort. It's just the ragged sound of his breathing, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“I think this might be a new personal record.”

Unfortunately, his little announcement is genuine. He’s merely stating a fact, not trying to tease you, because his only concern outside of making you cum is outdoing himself.

To Soonyoung, sex is a performance he’s trying to perfect. He approaches it like an Olympian — an athlete or a god? — and the bar he sets for himself raises every time you see him.

You find it the tiniest bit endearing how focused he is on self-improvement.

Kind of.

That doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes, though.

“Not if you keep —” A moan that you didn’t mean to let out cuts your sentence in half. “— talking.”

Your head crashes back against the pillows, which only spurs him on. Deeper, more deliberate strokes leave you writhing underneath him, babbling like a fool. He grins so wide that his eyes almost disappear.

“I’m just saying…” Another thrust, a thousand more stars dotting the periphery of your vision. “If you hit five, you owe me dinner.”

There it is, right on cue: another piece of evidence to prove that Soonyoung still doesn’t know what he signed up for.

It’s a conversation you’ve had more than once — never because you want to have it; and never because he seems to be consciously seeking something more than what you have.

At some point over the past few months of scattered nights with you, a seed seems to have taken root in the back of his brain. A zombie parasite, more likely; one that’s overridden the controls and completely undermined his understanding of the situation.

Whether he means it or not, these throw-away comments make you wonder if, deep down, he’s not wired to fuck without feelings.

Not like you, anyway.

Your self-preservation instincts don’t let you get that far. Risk-averse to your core, you don’t see the point of gambling when the stakes are that high. And even if you weren’t wary of getting yourself hurt, it wouldn’t change the fundamental truth that you enjoy your own company enough not to need anyone else’s.

The way you see it, Soonyoung can have a cameo in your weekends, but the plot of your life right now doesn’t need anything more than that. Changing the lineup now could fuck your whole season. So, why try?

To his credit, he seems to get that there are currently more pressing matters at hand than the same old conversation. He pats your hip and says, “Let’s switch it up.”

You’re as grateful for the subject change as you are for the hand he extends to help your boneless body sit up again. Thankfully, the one lesson he has learned is that no one can compete with his perpetually full battery. If he’s going to change positions as often as he wants to, he has to be the one to position you.

This time, you wind up with your back flush against his chest, skin slick against yours. To keep him close, you reach back until your hand finds the nape of his neck. After weaving your fingers through the damp hair at the base of his head, you tug slightly, pulling a low groan out of him.

“Fuck, yeah,” he grunts breathlessly. “Pull my hair.”

You do as he says, albeit a bit harder than you meant to; you can’t help it. That’s the exact moment he chooses to grab your hips and slam your ass back against his pelvis, perfectly in time with his forward snap. He’s in your guts now, there’s no doubt about it, and you’re falling to pieces.

Wailing, you have to squeeze your eyes shut to survive the surge of pleasure coursing through you. “Oh, my god,” you choke out.

The only way you manage to stay upright through your orgasm is with Soonyoung’s arms caging you in. Without him, you’d be a trembling fucking mess, collapsing face-down onto your bed in a useless heap. He keeps holding you even when he lets himself go soon after, spilling into the condom with a moan you feel as it leaves his chest.

“Goddamn,” he sighs, voice rough. The heat of his breath on your neck almost makes you want to cling to him, curl up and let your eyes flutter shut. “Every time I fuck you, I feel like I should thank you.”

That flicker of affection goes out in a flash as the memory of consequences comes back around. You snort. “Please don’t cook for me again.”

You leave it at that, and so does he. When he finally pulls out of you, you give into the safer urge; the one that can’t possible give him the wrong impression. Slumping forward, you hit the mattress so hard that you practically bounce, like the dead weight you are.

Soonyoung misses that spectacle, thankfully. He’s already on his feet, tying off the condom before dropping it into the wastebasket on the other side of the room. You hear it drop against the plastic bag, then the soft pad of his footsteps as he makes his way back to you. You unbury your face from the pillows and crane your neck to look over at him.

In a rare display, he looks exhausted. Moments like this might be the only time he ever finds himself depleted, and you figure he’s earned that right. Part of you wants to let him lay here with you — maybe even let him sleep it off — but you can’t let him get tangled in the strings you refuse to attach.

He’s halfway to you when he finally looks up at you and catches you watching him. You’re not sure what he sees in your expression; you’d bet it’s as confusing on the outside as it feels on the inside. Whatever he finds there, it makes him pause. There's a quick nod, like he’s reacting to something neither one of you has said out loud, then he changes course.

“You have to be up early,” he says, like he’s finally learned the script. “I’m gonna head out.”

You nod but say nothing else. You just watch as Soonyoung grabs the clothes you’d tugged off of him earlier, piece by piece, and puts everything back to the way it was before.

The way you want it.

Once he’s fully clothed, he shoots you a smile that only uses half of his mouth. Neither of you offers a word as he walks over to the door, although you can tell he’s moving more slowly than usual. Hoping you’ll stop him, maybe.

You don’t.

It’s not until he pulls it open that he looks back over his shoulder at you; and this time, when he smiles, it looks like he means it.

“Sleep well, yeah?”

[OCTOBER]

“I’m just saying that if her shithead brother bothered to include her in his night, maybe she wouldn’t have been decapitated."

You tear your eyes off the television screen in time to see Minghao’s eyes roll all the way back into his head. Across the coffee table from where you sit, he and Mei occupy the couch; his head crashes against the back of it with a muffled thump while his younger sibling continues their rant.

“I’m being for real,” Mei urges, jabbing their finger emphatically through the air in his direction. “If you ever bail on me like that, and my head ends up falling off, you deserve whatever consequences come next.”

You snort. “Up to and including… what, demonic possession?”

“Absolutely,” Mei sniffs.

Minghao sits upright again slowly. He chews thoughtfully on his lower lip, leaving you and your roommate in suspense. Knowing him, he’ll lecture you both on karmic energy and how Mei shouldn’t fuck around with it. To both of your surprise, he frowns. “Is it bad that I kind of want cake now?”

You and Mei respond at the same time, although your responses are nothing alike:

“I think we have some left over.”

“Yes, you’re a monster.”

Despite what they just called him, Mei is nothing if not a good host. With a beleaguered huff, they push themselves off the couch, step carefully over the legs Minghao doesn’t move out of their path, and stalks off towards the kitchen to forage for food.

Left alone in the living room, you and Minghao fall into an easy silence, eyes glued once again to the screen. It’s always been easier to get through a movie without Mei’s commentary; this one would’ve been finished an hour ago if they hadn’t kept pausing it to ramble. You’re so immersed in it that you hardly hear the way they’re tearing through the kitchen like a cyclone. You almost miss the soft knock at the door, too.

Immediately, your optimistic eyes flick over to Minghao. He’s closer to the door, and if you stare at him long enough, he might let you stay in the armchair you’ve all but fused to.

“Nope,” he says coolly, without even looking.

Whining, you peel off the blanket you’ve wrapped yourself in and unfurl your knotted legs. You shiver when your bare feet touch the cold wood below, but bravely, you don’t retreat. You push forward on tiptoe and skip across the living room until you reach the front door.

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead when you open it to find Soonyoung standing there for the first time in several weeks. While overstaying his welcome is his signature, showing up uninvited never has been. That’s apparently one line in the sand he won’t stumble over.

“Hey,” you peep.

For reasons unknown, you have to pause to let your gaze sweep over him, like something might’ve drastically changed about him since you saw him last. There’s a tiny flutter in the center of your chest that begs you to greet him more emphatically than that, but you ignore it.

Soonyoung looks more apologetic than you’ve ever seen him, which makes your pulse quicken even more.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” he swears. “I think I left my headphones here last time. I’ve looked everywhere, I promise, but they’re just — gone.”

Your first instinct is to ask why he brought headphones to a dick appointment in the first place, but you talk yourself out of it. The next is to find out why he came all the way over here on a hunch, rather than simply texting you; he hasn’t in a while, not that you’ve taken it to heart. But you don’t do that, either, which strikes you as odd.

Instead, you step back and push the door open wider, once again letting the stray inside. “No worries,” you breeze.

Since when?

As it turns out, letting him in doesn’t bring the sky crashing down around you. Taking a single brick out of the wall you’ve fastidiously built doesn’t bring about the end of days. It just brings a shy bow and a quiet “thank you” while he toes off his shoes.

He turns to head toward your bedroom with you following behind him, but he stops short after a few steps. Crashing into his back — god, he’s broader than he looks — you grab his biceps to keep from bowling him over entirely.

“Shit — I’m so sorry.” He wheels around, failing to realize that you’re as close as you are. You can see panic light up his eyes, now mere centimeters from yours. “I didn’t realize you had somebody over.”

What is that scribbled all over his face?

It’s not anger, you know that much. Nothing about the way he’s looking at you reads like jealousy, either. If anything, he seems genuinely torn-up over what he assumes is date-crashing. Guilty, maybe.

So, why do you feel bad?

“Mei’s brother,” you explain quickly, as if he’s owed one. “Our annual horror movie marathon. We — all of us — do it every October.”

Why did you add that qualifier in there?

Soonyoung’s face brightens immediately, and you feel the tiniest bit warmer now that the corners of his mouth aren’t curved downward anymore. You wish that surprised you, but it doesn’t.

Why should it? You’ve given into him more often than not, haven’t you?

All he says is, “Oh,” in the tiniest voice you’ve ever heard, like he’s embarrassed himself for the first time in his life.

It grows quiet while the two of you continue to stand there in the half-light. If you discount the screaming, the flickering colors coming from the television screen make it feel almost — cozy?

But you’ve been gazing up at him for far too long, so you clear your throat. “Your — umm — your headphones. Do you remember where you left them?”

You nudge him slightly to get him moving, which he does without complaint.

“I think they jumped out of my pocket when you…” Soonyoung’s voice trails off. As you pass by, he glances over at Minghao, who either can’t hear your conversation or doesn’t give a shit about it.

With that indifference confirmed, Soonyoung looks back at you with a smirk. “You broke my zipper, you know. I had to take those jeans to a tailor to fix it.”

Immediately, your cheeks start burning.

Resident fuck monster, reporting for duty! Here to rip clothes to shreds and —

He touches your wrist, just for a second. “It’s cute,” he assures you, even though you haven’t said a word.

And it doesn’t do a damn thing to keep that heat from rising up your face.

You step into your bedroom before you can think of what to say in response, so you let the moment pass and flick on the light. Just as soon as he joins you inside, Soonyoung lays eyes on what he came for — which is a miracle. That thin, white cord is practically invisible under your dresser.

“Ah!” He chirps, bending down to grab it.

Looking triumphant as hell, he tucks it into the pocket of his joggers and shoots you a grin. Suddenly, you find it hard to mimic his smile, although you don’t know why.

He got what he came for, didn’t he? He’ll be out of your hair in a matter of moments, which is exactly what you’ve been demanding of him for months. You had to train him to get in and get out, and when he eventually learned, the relief was immediate.

So, why don’t you feel relieved now?

Soonyoung must hear your trains of thought derailing because he comes in hot with a distraction. As usual, it’s out of left field, just like the soft brush of his fingers on your bare arm.

“You’re cold.”

It’s not a question.

There aren’t even goosebumps on your arm; and there’s no reason why he should know by looking at you that you are, in fact, freezing. But he does, and before you can ask how the fuck that’s possible, he spins around to the dresser nearby and grabs the handle jutting out of the bottom-left drawer.

How does he —?

You open your mouth to speak. The words disappear when he stands upright again, now holding out a sweatshirt from the drawer you keep them in. He’s only seen you open it once before, and the fact that he remembers is making you dizzy.

Soonyoung’s expectant eyes lock on your face, looking at you the same way he did when he handed you those burnt fucking eggs. This time, though, you don’t hesitate to accept what he’s giving you. You tug that sweatshirt over your head without missing a beat, instantly learning that it’s much bigger on you than you remember.

Stunned, you blink back at him from underneath the hood, which obscures most of your forehead. “Is this —?”

You grab the fabric from the front of it in your hands as you look down. At first glance, it looks like the million other white sweatshirts tucked into your drawer, but —

“This isn’t mine.”

Your eyes flick back up to Soonyoung, who’s fighting for his life to bite back a smile.

Six months ago, you might’ve knocked him on his ass for this, but now, you can’t keep it together, either. You crack wide open, laughing so hard that your eyes almost disappear.

“When the hell did you sneak that in there?” You wheeze, wiping tears as they spill over your lash line. The smack you land against his arm is cloaked in a sweater paw, dealing no damage except to crack him open, too. “God, I was never going to get rid of you, was I?”

Beaming, he slips his hands into the kangaroo pocket on the front and tugs you closer; you let him. “It was just in case I get cold, I swear.”

“Is that it?” You narrow your eyes playfully. “Are you sure?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, although you don’t believe him for a second. “It does look good on you, though. Maybe you should hang on to it.”

“To the sweatshirt?”

Watching him blush like that may never get old. Still, he maintains his bluff and nods.

“Yeah. I mean, why not? Right? It’s comfortable.” He shrugs, not even the slightest bit casually. “A cotton blend, I think. Pre-shrunk, so… It’ll — uh, never be your size, I guess. That’s — um — that’s kind of a bummer, but…”

“Soonyoung!” You cut him off with a breathless laugh, prompting him to shut his rambling mouth.

The rare use of his name seems to startle him. His eyes go wide with that typical, hopeful anticipation that he never seems to leave home without. That look hasn’t disappeared after six months of getting shot down on a weekly basis, and neither has the way he hangs onto every word you say.

This time, it might actually be what he’s been waiting to hear.

“Do you….?”

It might be a new personal record, you caving like this after holding someone at arm’s length for so long. The relief is automatic, spreading through muscle that you didn’t even realize had been aching.

“If you’re not busy, do you want to stay?”

#svt #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #hoshi smut #soonyoung smut #hoshi fluff #soonyoung fluff #svt fic #svt smut #svt fluff #jade writes #re: sweatshirt season #ksy #kvanity

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macsimagines · 8 months

Note

I cannot thank you enough for now incredibly you bring my silly little ideas to life~

May I request for Yan! Shin, Izana, & Ran on how they are as a husband to their darling and how they are as fathers? (like them after they’ve finally achieved their Yandere dreams of marrying their darling and having kids with them and everything ) ʚ♡ɞ

TW: YANDERE CONTENT, MINORS DNI, BABY TRAPPING, MANIPULATION, COERCION

Yandere!Shinichiro Sano

Is so happy that you've made him a husband and father. It wasn't easy trying to convince you to go out with him, but eventually he called in enough favors and 'saved' you enough times that you relented and dated him for a short period.

Short because after that he tried very hard to get you to marry him and when it was obvious you weren't going to relent he eventually started to just poke holes in condoms and simply waited for the great news.

"Oh? You're pregnant? Well shucks, looks like I gotta take responsibility. When are you moving in?"

Ya he's not hiding the fact that he's all too pleased to put a ring on you and have a baby in you. But he does his best to provide and make you happy.

He comes home with flowers all the time, just cause, and sometimes he'll bring your son with him to the shop. "You need a break baby, I can take over today."

Shinichiro loves having JR. around. He of course loves his son, but it does help he's the perfect combination of you and Shinichiro.

Yandere!Izana Kurokawa

He had to force you to marry him. You had tried to leave him and he wasn't going to let you live any kind of life without him. Those first few years were less than marital bliss.

The fighting, the screaming, the crying. It was honestly hell. Izana almost let himself think you weren't worth the trouble but he was kidding himself if he thought he could live a life without you.

That all changed when he found out you were pregnant. Now it was real, now he couldn't afford to fuck up.

"Y/N, I know you hate me, I can accept that, but please for our babies sake, lets make this work."

Izana is like a changed man, he's kinder and even gentle. He can tell you're still resentful and bitter, but he'll accept that. He just wants his child to feel loved and know he did all he could to make that happen.

You finally go into labor early, Izana doesn't know why or what he did wrong but this was obviously his fault. He was going to loose you both. You really were going to leave him and take the one thing he wanted most in the world with you.

But you pull through. You and his precious and perfect daughter. She's puny in his hands, even for a newborn, just barely bigger than his own palms, but she's perfect. And he'll never let her go.

"Hey, princess. You don't know how happy I am to finally meet you."

Yandere!Ran Haitani

Made you his wife after he found out you had his Twins. One boy and one girl. His brother was the one that had to break the news to him about it 4 years after he had told you to get lost.

"Hey bro, remember that trick that said you knocked her up?" "That bitch? Like I'd ever forget to wear a condom." "...You might wanna have a look at her insta."

Well shit. Obviously the rubber ripped because he was staring at his little clones on your feed. It was very apparent he was the father only a fool would deny it.

"You ain't my dad!" Your son hisses at him "Ya! You ain't!" Your daughter will parrot back. Clearly introducing himself as their father while they were beatingtheshitoutof playing with other kids wasn't the best idea.

"Our hair is pretty an' black!" "Ya! Yours is purple and ugly!"

Ran might not like how the kids are giving him shit, but he certainly does love the idea of another infamous pair of Haitani siblings running amok in Roppongi.

He also doesn't like the fact that you try to fight him tooth and nail for him to not bother your family. "Our family baby, C'mon. Let me take responsibility."

You have no choice but to relent to his threats of custody and courts, knowing damn well you don't have the connection he does.

And he doesn't love the fact that you're a huge bitch to him or the fact that his twins seem to live and breath violence more than he and his bother did back in his youth. But he must admit he thinks it's way more hot how cold and unforgiving you are compared to your old self. You keep him entertained at least.

"Guess who just had to bail our little ankle biters outta jail~ Why not thank your husband for a job well done."

#yandere tokyo revengers #yandere izana kurokawa #yandere izana #yandere izana kurokawa smut #yandere ran haitani

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wheresarizona · 6 months

Text

Learning to Live Part 25

summary: Javier is taking you on a trip to Miami to meet the Murphys, and baby fever hits hard when you see each other interacting with their small children.

rating: E (18+! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), explicit smut, chair sex, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, anal play (f receiving), kinda double penetration, masturbation (m), sneaking around (you don’t want the Murphys to hear you), baby fever, (MASSIVE) breeding kink, dirty talk, spanking, (1) Papí, spit as lube, traveling, Javier being really cute with children, Javier losing his mind at seeing you with children, Steve giving Javier so much shit, Steve trying to keep you from fucking in the guest room and you two doing it anyway, grumpy Javier, feelings of insecurity/body insecurity (and Javier making you feel better), pregnancy discussion/talks of the future)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 18.2k+

a/n: Happy Halloween! This is my treat to you for Halloween and the end of Kinktober. I hope you enjoy! This Miami arc is either going to be two or three chapters long. Thank you to the lovely @senorabond for betaing! And also, thank you to @juletheghoul for ensuring my Spanish makes sense!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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Javier’s cell phone only rang for four reasons: his dad was calling, you were calling, it was one of the Murphys; Steve for their regularly scheduled Thursday chat, or Olivia wanting to talk to her tío and sometimes needing help with her Spanish homework. Last, and the phone calls he always ignored outside of business hours, were from his office.

The first time your boyfriend took a call while he was with you, you’d barely been dating a week.

While the two of you were cuddling on the couch on a Monday, watching some movie you couldn't even remember the name of because your brain at the time was focusing on getting naked instead of actually watching it, his phone on the coffee table in front of you started ringing. He apologized when he picked it up to check the caller ID and apologized again when he told you he had to answer it since it was his niece and got up from the couch.

It should’ve been an endearing moment, but your confusion had overshadowed it because you knew he had no siblings. You could admit it was pretty cute overhearing him in the kitchen talking to her in the sweetest voice he clearly saved for children, asking about how her summer was going.

After he hung up and returned to you, he’d explained: she was his best friend, Steve’s daughter, and he was her godfather, a role he took very seriously by being the best uncle to her and her younger brothers.

That was many months ago, and with today being Friday and Javi’s phone ringing on his bedside table in your shared bedroom, you had a feeling it was Olivia since he talked to his dad on his way home—the problem, though: your boyfriend was in the shower.

This seemed like an order-in kind of night, with it being the end of the week and you both wanting to relax. You’d just set the bag of Chinese food on the coffee table when you heard his phone going off. In less than thirty seconds, you had it in hand, the caller ID reading ‘Murphys,’ which was their landline, and confirmed your suspicion. Stepping inside the bathroom, the sounds of water roaring and splashing in the shower stall and the overhead fan humming greeted you; the large mirror over the sink was fogged up, steam permeating the air.

“Babe?” you said loud enough for him to hear.

The frosted glass door rolled open enough for Javi to stick out his head, his hair lathered in shampoo.

“Yeah?”

“Olivia’s calling.” You held up the ringing phone.

“Can you answer it and tell her I’ll call her back later?”

Now, Steve and his family were well aware of who you were, and you knew all about them, but you’ve never spoken to any of them. So this request had a nervous flutter erupting in your belly.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I can do that.”

A swoon-worthy smile appeared on his face. “Thanks, mi amor (my love).”

Immediately, you clicked the answer button, putting the phone up to your ear as you said, “Javi’s phone,” before making your way back into the bedroom and shutting the bathroom door behind you.

“You’re not Javi…” said a deep male voice that had your eyes going wide.

“You’re not Olivia…”

There was amusement in his tone, not expecting the smooth southern drawl. “No, I’m not. I’m her father, Steve Murphy, and you must be the woman my best friend is madly in love with.”

With a smile, you replied, “That’s me,” and introduced yourself.

“It’s nice to finally meet you—well, talk to you, at least. I gotta say I don’t think I’ve ever seen Javi this happy in all the time I’ve known him. You’ve been real good for him, and I’m glad he finally found someone who can put up with his grumpy ass.”

Warmth spread through your chest, his last comment making you giggle.

“You wanna know a secret?” you whispered.

“Yeah?”

“When he’s with me, he’s not grumpy. He smiles a lot and laughs. He’s really adorable, to be honest.”

“I don’t know if I’d call him adorable, but he’s like that with my kids, too.”

“Oh, Javi with kids is my kryptonite—he’s so good with them.”

“Let me tell you, when I came home to Miami after getting Escobar, he stayed with us for a while, and it shocked me how good he was with Olivia.” That didn’t surprise you. He’d grown up with practically all his cousins being younger than him, and he has a lot of them. “I don’t know if he told you, but not too long after he quit the DEA, he lived with us for a bit ‘cause he was having a hard time being in Laredo—from what I understand, there are some people there who aren’t too kind to him.”

“That’s an understatement, but yes.”

Javi staying in Miami for a time was something you were aware of.

Being back in Laredo had been hard for him, like Steve said, and he was known to run from his problems, so he went and lived with the Murphys for almost a year in their guest room. Then, one day, his dad called and told him not to worry, but doctors were running some tests after finding a mass on his liver that could possibly be cancerous. Javier’s mother, Antonia, died from breast cancer that wasn’t caught in time, so when he got off the phone, he packed his bags and was on the first flight home.

It was the kick in his ass he needed to realize his dad was all he had left and was worth braving his hometown. Chucho’s mass was benign, and Javi annoyed the fuck out of him his first month back by being a mother hen and fussing over him nonstop.

“Well,” Steve continued, “he came and lived with us and was a huge help with Olivia and Stevie. He was a natural with them—they love Javi more than their actual uncles.”

A grin was on your face, loving to hear that he’d done so well helping them with their children. “And he loves them like they’re his biological niece and nephews.”

“He really does.” There was fondness in his tone. “You know, when we were in Colombia, all the guys we worked with thought he was a giant asshole since he didn’t put up with their shit—I was his partner, and I thought he was a giant asshole, but all the women in the office seemed to love him because he was sweet to them. Your man only lightens up for women and children ‘cause I sure as hell did not have a partner who smiled and laughed a lot. Like, I’m looking at this holiday card y’all sent, and I barely recognize him with that big ‘ol grin.”

The holiday cards had been your idea.

Chucho did the photo shoot, and the picture you both chose had Javi and you in matching outfits of red sweaters and jeans, with him holding you from behind as you both smiled at the camera. Daphne and Velma, the seven-month-old calves you lovingly called your bovine children, were on either side of you wearing fake antlers, all of you in front of the red wooden barn, the bottom of the card reading, ‘Happy holidays from us to you,’ typed in a fancy script.

It was very cute.

It delighted you people were finally getting them, now wondering when you’d get that disapproving call from your mother. You knew it was looming on the horizon when your parents finally got theirs.

“It’s nice, though, right?” You chewed on your lip.

“Oh, it’s more than nice—it’s fuckin’ great! That man has been to hell and back, and it’s about damn time he finally gets to be happy and relax for once. Which reminds me why I called—were you guys able to get that time off next week?”

The two of you hoped to go to Miami the following week; there were just some issues with you getting days off.

“Yes! Javi was going to call you tonight. We can do Thursday through Saturday, but we need to be home Sunday for his birthday because we’re celebrating with his dad.”

“That’s fine! We’re just happy you can come! Excuse me, ma’am, Connie just came in the room and has a question for me,” It sounded like Steve covered the phone, hearing his muffled voice say, “Yes, baby, they’re coming… Thursday through Saturday, they need to be home for Javi’s birthday Sunday… It’s not Javi, it’s his girlfriend… She’s great… You know Javi, he doesn’t want a fuc-flipping birthday party… Fine, I’ll ask her.” Now you could hear him clearly. “My apologies, ma’am. My wife wants to know if you’d like us to throw Javi a birthday party?”

“Oh, you guys are already letting us stay with you. I couldn’t ask you to throw a party.”

“Okay.” He spoke to his wife. “She says that’d be too much since they’re staying with us.”

Noise sounded over the line like the phone was being passed, followed by a woman’s voice now speaking, “Hi, is this Javi’s girlfriend?”

“Yes,” you replied, giving her your name. “Is this Connie?” A baby was babbling in the background, and you thought she might be holding their youngest child.

“It is! It’s so nice to meet you! I can’t wait for you to visit next week.”

“I can’t wait either! I’ve heard so much about all of you, and I’m excited.”

“We’re just as excited! Now, it’d be no problem throwing Javi a little party, and the kids would love to celebrate with him. I mean, they love any excuse to eat cake.”

Giggling, you replied, “Well, we can’t deny the kids cake. If you insist, I’m sure Javi would be touched by the gesture.”

“Great! We’re going to have such a wonderful time. Javi’s told us how much you love the beach, so we’ll have to spend a day there, and I need to go grocery shopping. Is there anything you want to eat while here?”

You were hoping to go to the beach, and happy she mentioned it.

“I can’t think of anything. I’m not picky.”

“If you think of something, just give me a call. We want you to have a great trip.”

“I know it’s going to be amazing,” you said truthfully.

“I hope so! Okay, Steve wants the phone back. Nice to meet you, bye!”

“Nice meeting you, too!”

“It’s me again.” Steve was back on. “Are you guys going to need a ride from the airport?”

The bathroom door opened, and you looked over your shoulder to see Javi coming out in just a white towel wrapped around his waist, his hair blow-dried and styled.

“I don’t know…?” you distractedly answered. With you going on the trip soon, you had been refraining from sucking marks into his skin to avoid any awkward conversations with the Murphy kids. Still, there were fading hickies your eyes took in as they moved down his torso to the tantalizing trail of hair that disappeared beneath the cotton.

With the fan on in the bathroom, he could hear Cielito on the phone; however, he was unable to make out anything she was saying, thinking she might be talking to Robyn or one of his family members. He walked into the room, and she looked over her shoulder at him, his chest puffing out a little at how she was checking him out.

“Who are you talking to?” he whispered.

Her gaze snapped up to meet his. “Steve,” she answered just as quietly.

That had him taken aback since he was pretty sure his best friend and wif-girlfriend had never spoken before. Was it Steve who called and not Olivia? Has she been on the phone with him this entire time?

What were they talking about?

“What does he want?” Javier asked.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she said to the other man. “Javi’s here, so give me a sec.” She turned in place to face him, covering the speaker. “He called to find out if we could visit next week—which I told him yes, but he just asked if we’ll need a ride from the airport, and I don’t know the answer.”

Immediately, he held out his hand.

She uncovered the phone, talking to his friend again, “Steve, Javi wants to talk to you.” A big smile was on her face. “It was nice talking to you, too… Oh goodness, that’s so sweet… He makes me happy, too. Like super happy.” She shielded her mouth so Javier couldn’t see it, her eyes locked on his, while she whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s an amazing boyfriend and so goddamn dreamy. Literally, the best partner I’ve ever had, and I cannot wait to marry him, so he’s mine forever.” What she said made him smile, and his heart skip a beat. Steve must’ve said something funny because she laughed. “Bye, Steve.” She passed the phone to him.

“Hey,” Javier said, with the cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Hey, Jav. Your girlfriend’s great, and we can’t wait to meet her.”

After his last relationship with Lorraine, and how he missed the red flags and ignored his mother’s warnings about her, having his family love the woman standing in front of him, and now Steve also liking her, it reassured him he was making the right choice for who he was going to marry—not that he had any doubts. Javier knew for a fact she was the one he was spending the rest of his life with. It just made him feel great that others could see how amazing she was.

“Yeah, she’s fucking incredible.”

“You’ve got it so bad for her.” Steve chuckled. “I got your holiday card, and I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes—the way you’re smiling, the matching outfits, and the dressed-up cows—”

“Daphne and Velma,” Javier interrupted.

The girls behaved well for the photoshoot—with the help of many treats and pets. He loved how the card turned out and was beyond happy Cielito even wanted to do something like that with him. It made him think of the future and the cards featuring the additions of tiny Peñas and seeing their family grow with each holiday season—showing their friends and relatives how their family had grown. Not that he loved the idea of rubbing their happiness in her parents’ faces or anything…

“These are your—what do you call them? Your bovine children?” He’d mentioned the calves on previous calls.

“Yeah,” he answered. “The red one is Daphne, and the other is Velma.”

“Okay, I’ll admit they’re pretty cute.”

“They are. So anyway, we don’t need you to pick us up,” he said, getting back on topic. “I’m gonna rent a car like I always do.”

“Sounds good.”

He turned away from his future fiancée as he spoke a little quieter, “Did you say anything embarrassing about me?”

His question made his best friend laugh, and he frowned. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Javi. We talked about how great you are with my kids and that you’re only nice to women and children.”

That didn’t sound too bad.

He whispered, “How’d she react about me being great with the kids?”

Steve laughed again. “Positively. A direct quote is, ‘Javi with kids is my kryptonite.’”

Javier smiled. “Good. Tell mis sobrinos (my niece and nephews) I need them to be extra cute when we visit.”

“Will do. Speaking of the kids, Connie needs my help, so I gotta go.”

“Give them all my love, and I’ll see you next week.”

“I will. Bye, you asshole.”

“Adiós, pendejo (Goodbye, asshole).” He clicked the end call button, walking over to set the phone back on his bedside table.

“You’re a dork,” she said.

Turning toward her, amusement was clear on her face.

“Why am I a dork?” he asked, taking a few steps to stand in front of her.

“Asking my reaction to how good you are with his kids.”

His hands went up to cradle her face. “He said I was great with his kids.”

“Yeah, he did, and he said you were a natural with them.” Her eyes had darkened, her fingers dipping into the top of the towel at his waist as she bit her bottom lip—she was turned on, and it made him smirk, his cock beginning to harden.

“You like that?” he asked, leaning forward until his mouth was a hair's breadth away from hers, her eyes closing. “You like that if I got you pregnant, I’d be great with our baby?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

This was the moment his brain decided to remind him he needed to book everything for their trip right away.

His eyes squeezed shut, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“I’m sorry, Cielito,” he sounded pained. “We can’t fool around right now. I’ve got shit I need to do.”

“But we were about to have really kinky sex,” she groaned.

“I’ll make it up to you after I get all our stuff booked and we eat dinner.” He sweetly kissed her. “Anything you want,” he said when he broke away, looking her in the eyes. “Anything.”

“Okay. That’s acceptable. I both love and hate that you’re a responsible adult.” She pouted. “Use my credit card and book us in business class since it’s two seats in a row. That way, we won’t have to worry about anyone sitting with us.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I didn’t want anyone sitting with us either and planned on booking business—maybe first, depending on the price.”

“Meh, stick with business.”

“Okay. Window or aisle?”

“Window.”

“Good, ‘cause I like the aisle.”

That made her grin. “It’s like we’re meant to be or something. Next, you’re gonna tell me I can have your peanuts.”

“Oh, yeah, I never eat them. I usually just have a drink.”

Whiskey on the rocks.

“We’re soulmates.”

“We are.” He agreed with a nod.

“Ugh.” She stepped away from him, and his mouth turned down, his hands falling. “You’re basically naked, and I want to jump your bones. Put on some clothes, you saucy temptress.” Her head turned, shielding her eyes with her hand.

“Saucy temptress?” he chuckled, walking so close as he passed her their arms brushed, heading toward his dresser.

“You heard me—seducing me with your manly wiles and, god, your rockin’ bod. Okay, I’m going to the living room because you are so close to getting your dick sucked.” He opened a drawer, pulling out his sweatpants. “You know,” she said, still standing in the same spot but shuffling to face him. “You’re gonna be on the phone, right?” The towel dropped to the floor as he pulled on the pants.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“So, I mean, while you’re talking, theoretically, I could suck your dick while you’re doing it.”

He sucked in a breath, his half-hard cock twitching at the thought.

“You’re the saucy temptress,” he rasped, bending down with a groan to grab his towel and moving to toss it in the nearby dirty clothes hamper. “No, mi amor (my love), that’s how I end up accidentally booking us on a flight to fucking Australia or some shit.”

“You’re no fun.” She was pouting again, looking adorable.

“But I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The Laredo Airport wasn’t very big.

Built by the U.S. Government during World War II, it was used by the United States Air Force, then during the Cold War, it was a pilot training base. With the defense cutbacks after the Vietnam War, the military presence ended by the tail end of 1973, with commercial air service not arriving until the summer of 1975.

The commercial air service? It would take you to exotic destinations, like Dallas/Fort Worth and Houston-Intercontinental. Basically, you flew from Laredo’s tiny airport to one of the larger Texan airports and, from there, headed to your desired location.

This is how you ended up on a flight from Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport at 8:45 AM on a Thursday morning in December.

The trip would only be three days long, so you both packed carry-ons that Javi insisted he carry, or roll, for your suitcase; he brought a leather duffle bag for himself. He safely stored the luggage in the overhead compartment, and you had seated yourself by the window and buckled in, your boyfriend beside you in the only other seat in your row.

For a comfortable flight, you wore leggings, an oversized T-shirt, and tennis shoes. Javier? The man refused to look anything but his best out in public, so he was in his usual tight-ass jeans, a white button-up with a blue patterned design, and his black leather jacket—to go to Miami, where the weather was hot and, from what you were told, humid.

The things he did in the name of being the sexiest man alive.

Your leg was bouncing, your shoulders tense, chewing on your thumb.

Warm fingers laced with those of your free hand, Javi gently squeezing it.

“You a nervous flyer?” he whispered.

Turning your head toward him, you answered, “Little bit. It’s mostly take-off and landing. Once we’re in the air, I’m fine.”

“Yeah? How can I help?”

“I don’t know. Talk to me? Are you a nervous flyer?”

A little smile was on his lips, barely shaking his head. “No. I’m used to it with all the traveling I did for work. I will say I prefer planes over helicopters, though.”

The last of the passengers were boarding, but you aren’t paying any of them mind, in your little bubble with Javi.

“Did you fly in helicopters a lot?”

“Thankfully, no. We used them mostly when we needed to go out into the jungle, which I always fucking hated.”

“The helicopter ride or the jungle?”

“Both. It’s hot in there, and the animals. I, uh, don’t like snakes…”

His answer made you smile as you replied, “That’s very Indiana Jones of you.” A thought came to you. “Oh! Would you wear a fedora if I got you one?”

His eyes squinted. “No...”

The pilot came over the speaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight AA319 with service from Dallas/Fort Worth to Miami. We are currently second in line for take-off and should be in the air in approximately ten minutes. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for take-off. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Thank you for flying American Airlines. We hope you enjoy your flight.”

You frowned at Javi, going back to your conversation. “But you’ve got the leather jacket—” You patted it over his pec. “—and the button up, that we can sluttily unbutton to show some skin, and we’ll get you a pair of khaki pants.”

His eyes remained narrowed. “Why do you always want me to dress up as characters played by that guy—what’s his name? Harry Ford?”

“Harrison Ford, and it’s not my fault he’s played some iconic characters that you’d look hot dressed up as—don’t lie to me and say you wouldn’t enjoy dressing up as Han Solo. You think he’s the coolest guy.”

He was frowning now. “Han’s okay, but Boba Fett’s cooler.” He shrugged.

Your eyebrow rose. “Do you want me to get you some Boba Fett armor so you can pretend to be a space bounty hunter, and we can make it horny and have you hunt me down?”

The wheels were turning in his head, and he seemed to be thinking it over, which made you giggle.

“It’d be too uncomfortable,” he finally answered. “And I wouldn’t be able to see shit in the helmet. If I’m gonna dress up as a Star Wars character, I’ll stick with Han.”

“Smart man.”

Javi kept talking to you about nothing important to keep you distracted as the plane started moving, only pausing when the flight attendants went over the safety briefing.

What you didn’t expect was right before take-off, he kissed you, and not a chaste kiss but a toe-curling, forgot-how-to-think, skin-heating, breath-stealing, tongue-tangling kiss that had you so caught up in him, you didn’t even notice the plane had left the ground, or rose thousands of feet into the sky.

When you finally broke away for air, you felt dazed; your eyes had closed, panting breaths and smiling. Arousal swirled in your belly and dripped into your panties, feeling the cotton dampened and sticking to your skin.

“Still feeling nervous?” he asked, kissing your chin.

“God, no.” You replied breathily. “Feeling horny.”

A ding sounded, the light showing ‘seat belts needed to be fastened’ turning off, a flight attendant announcing, “Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign, and you may now move around the cabin.”

“Javi?” Your eyes opened.

“Yes, Cielito?”

Leaning close to press your lips to his ear, you quietly asked, “Have you ever joined the mile-high club?”

He audibly gulped. “No.”

“Would you like to?” His jacket was unzipped, and you walked your fingers over the skin on his chest, revealed by the top few buttons being undone, his aviators hanging in the dip.

“Hold on.” Suddenly, his seatbelt was clicking open, and he was rising, keeping his head ducked until he was in the aisle, hastening toward the front of the plane. Watching curiously, he opened a lavatory door and went inside, coming out a minute later, a grumpy look on his perfect face as he made his way back to you and sat down beside you with a grunt.

“It’s too fucking small,” he said, turning his torso to face you. “And I think we’d get caught if we tried.” He looked so disappointed, and the news made you sigh.

“It’s good one of us is a responsible adult making the right decisions.”

Leaning closer, he whispered, “I can get a blanket from the flight attendant and finger you under it if you really want to get off while we’re flying.”

The idea caused your cunt to clench hard around nothing.

“That sounds so good, but I’d want us both to get off. Guess we’re just gonna have to fuck when we go to bed tonight, and you’ll have to keep me quiet.” Your hand rubbed along his thigh, his eyes darkening.

“I love you so fucking much,” he rasped.

“I love you, too.”

“Steve would hate us fucking in the guest room.”

“That just makes you want to do it more, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah.” He smirked.

“You’re such an asshole to him,” you giggled.

“He deserves it,” he replied, closing what little distance was between you to kiss your lips.

The flight was barely three hours long, which you spent reading the small book stashed in your purse, your boyfriend beside you with his reading glasses on, his big hand holding his own book you’d kept for him.

When the flight attendant came down the aisle with the drink cart and snacks, Javi got a whiskey, while you got ginger ale and both bags of peanuts.

The books were put away when it was time to land, and he held your hand tight while the other caressed your face as he distracted you with another mind-blowing kiss—you’d never enjoyed taking off and landing so much.

Off the plane, Javi had the bags—carrying his duffle by the handles and rolling your luggage through the airport to the rental car agency. You took his bag when you got to the counter so he could fish his wallet out of his back pocket, passing the employee his driver’s license with you standing beside him.

The dark-haired man on the other side was smiling as he read the card and started inputting the information into a computer, his name tag reading Martin and beneath it, ‘Hablo Español.’

“Welcome to Miami, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” Martin said, his words heavily accented. Your eyes rounded, Javi’s arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into him. “I hope you had a pleasant trip!”

“It wasn’t too bad,” your future husband replied. “Right, Mrs. Peña?” He was smirking when he turned his head toward you, looking beyond delighted.

“Right, Mr. Peña,” you answered with a smile, getting closer to him by hooking your arm around his middle, resting your head against his chest. “The flight was pretty great.”

“Awe,” Martin replied. “Newlyweds, no? Here on your honeymoon?” He glanced up from what he was doing.

“Something like that,” Javi responded, kissing your hair.

The conversation transitioned to business, with your boyfriend having to sign a lot of paperwork before he handed you a small stapled stack and the employee directed you where to go to get the car, which involved getting on a shuttle bus.

The sun was shining down from the clear blue sky, the temperature hot and humid, Javi having to take off his leather jacket. You were more than happy to carry it along with the papers for the car while he took care of lugging around the bags when they dropped you off at the car lot. A stop had to be made in a small, blissfully air-conditioned building to get the keys and have someone take you to where the vehicle was parked. You would think for such a short trip and the small amount of stuff you had, he would’ve rented a full-size sedan at most—nope, Javi rented an SUV, a brand new forest green ‘98 Ford Explorer, to be exact.

His aviators were on, leaving you with the bags on the ground at your feet. At the same time, he meticulously inspected the SUV’s exterior for any scratches or dings that needed to be reported so they weren’t blamed on you, rubbing his thumb over some spots.

Sometimes—well, a lot of the time when you were out in public—he had an intimidating aura about him, ‘just don’t fuck with me’ vibes wafting off of him with the grumpy expression on his face and how confidently he moved about. It came in handy when you were in crowded places because people stayed out of his way and didn’t bother you—instead of scary dog privilege, you had scary boyfriend privilege. An issue with scary boyfriend privilege: he was making the rental car agency worker extremely nervous, the poor man holding his clipboard and sweating profusely, which you didn’t think had anything to do with the weather.

He was standing by you as Javi did his thing, shorter than your boyfriend with light skin, brown hair, and if you squinted, he kind of looked like Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle—same hairstyle, same forehead.

“He’s a teddy bear,” you whispered to the employee.

There was confusion on his face when he looked at you. “What?” he asked.

“Javi—” You nodded in the direction of the man, who was crouched at the passenger side door and using his thumb to see if a mark was dirt or a scratch. “—he’s a teddy bear. It’s just how his resting face looks. Watch this.” You called out to Javi, “Find anything, baby?”

“No,” he answered, grunting as he rose to stand. His hands were on his hips as he gave the side of the vehicle another look over.

“I love you,” you told him.

His head turned in your direction, giving you a beaming smile. “I love you, too, mi amor (my love).”

He looked back at the SUV, and you said quietly out of the corner of your mouth, “See.”

“I didn’t notice anything,” Javi told the employee, heading your way and wiping his hands on his jeans.

“That’s great, sir,” the worker replied. “I just need you to sign here.” He pointed at a place on the paper clipped to his clipboard with the pen he showed your boyfriend. Javi was quickly signing and taking the offered keys.

“Thank you,” your boyfriend said, shaking the other man’s hand.

“No problem. If you have any issues, just give us a call.”

“Sounds good.”

The employee went away.

The vehicle was already unlocked, so Javi walked over to the front passenger-side door. “Let me get your door, Mrs. Peña,” he said as he opened it.

It made you giggle, moving his way with his jacket and the paperwork still held in your arms and hand, avoiding the bags on the ground. “That really made your day, didn’t it?” you asked, leaning in to kiss him when you were in front of him.

“Yes, Mrs. Peña,” he murmured against your lips, feeling him smile. One of his hands was on the top of the door with the keys tucked in his palm, his other grabbing a handful of your ass.

“You’re adorable, Mr. Peña.” Breaking away, you continued, “Give me the keys so I can get the AC going.” There was a grin under his perfectly trimmed mustache as he dangled the keys in front of your face, and you maneuvered the stuff in your arms to free up a hand to grab them—he pulled them away before the tips of your fingers even touched the metal.

You glared at him when he said, “Ask nicely for them this time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Inhaling deeply, you let the air leave your nose in a huff. “My love, may I please have the keys so I can get the AC going?”

“Of course, baby.” He handed them to you. “I’ll take care of the bags.” Leaning in, his lips met your cheek in a loud smacking kiss, slapping your ass before he walked away.

Miami had become a home away from home for Javier. It was a place where he could relax and be surrounded by the Murphys, whom he considered family even though they didn’t share blood.

Colombia never felt like home.

He knew he wasn’t welcome down there, finding his sparse apartments cold and lifeless, the only personal touch he made in the later years being the ofrenda for his late mother. There was no relaxing in South America when each morning he woke up could’ve been his last. Sure, he had Steve and Connie for a lot of it, but they were just as stressed as he was, and more so when Olivia came about, to the point Connie just up and left, back to the States.

Colombia was never home, and at the time he was sent back to Texas after his fuck up with Los Pepes, Laredo didn’t feel like home either.

He hadn’t known where he belonged when a good portion of the people in the town where he was born and raised still judged him for something he’d done over a decade earlier, a handful even hostile toward him.

After Steve finished their work and got Pablo Escobar, he returned to Florida to his wife and kid. They invited Javier to visit and stay in their guest room for however long he needed, and he had. They wouldn’t take any money he tried to offer them, but they accepted his help around the house and caring for Olivia, who was five by then.

Then he was called back to South America, and upon returning to the U.S. after that stint, he stayed with his dad for a month before he was in Miami again, that time for about a year, where he helped out with their barely ten-month-old, Stevie, and seven-year-old Olivia.

After going back to Laredo to be with his dad, he’d take occasional weekend trips like he and Cielito were doing now to stay with the family. Those trips became less frequent when they adopted Nate—he felt it was important they all had time to bond with their new addition without him being in the way.

He spent so much time in this Florida city, he knew his way around pretty well, like how it was faster to take 874 South instead of Ronald Reagan Turnpike, and as a bonus, they’d avoid tolls.

The air conditioning was cranked high, whooshing loudly while a Spanish station played loud enough to hear. He had one hand gripping the steering wheel, the fingers of his other laced with those of the woman he was going to marry, resting on her thigh.

She was looking out at the scenery in interest as they drove.

“Why’d you get this car?” she asked, staring out her window.

“So we’d have room for the little passengers.” Bringing her hand up, he kissed the back of it.

She looked at him. “The kids are gonna want to ride with us?”

He glanced at her, resting their hands back on her leg, smiling. “Oh, yeah. At least Olivia and Stevie—Nate’s too young to care. Doing the whole car seat thing in a smaller car fucking sucks.”

“So, what I’m hearing is we will be getting something like this when the baby-making starts and my car will have to go?”

Her car was a tiny two-door Honda, and just thinking about getting a car seat in it was making his back hurt, her question also causing his chest to go tight from happiness.

His eyes were back on the road. “Sorry, baby.” He squeezed her hand. “I know you love your car. I was thinking something bigger than this.”

“True,” she replied. “We gotta have room for all those babies you’re gonna knock me up with.”

A shock of arousal shot through his belly.

He had to clear his throat, his voice a little deeper. “Yeah…”

“I can’t believe that innocent comment turned you on,” she laughed, and he frowned.

“Don’t laugh,” he grumbled, having to wiggle a tiny bit in his seat with how blood had rushed to his dick.

Immediately, she stopped but still sounded amused. “I’m sorry, babe. I know it excites you a lot.”

“Excites you a lot, too.”

“Yes, it does. So, let’s talk about something safe. How long before we’re there?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“That’s not too bad.”

She questioned him about what they lived close to, and he answered they were near a zoo, some parks, and the ocean was a ten-minute drive.

The Murphys lived in a one-story ranch-style house with an A-shaped gable roof extending over the front porch. The stucco on the outside was painted a golden yellow with crimson trim, and the window panes were outlined in bright white.

In the driveway, Connie’s minivan and Steve’s little truck were parked. Javi pulled in behind his best friend’s rig, and not even thirty seconds later the front door was opening, hearing muffled, high-pitched squeals.

“Hey,” he said to Cielito, getting her attention. “Relax. They’re gonna love you. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Promise?”

He smiled, letting go of her hand to hold up his pinky. “I pinky promise.” That made her smile as she looped hers with his, and he leaned in to kiss her quickly.

“Okay, we better get out,” he said.

“Okay.”

Out of the vehicle, Javier walked around the front, a tiny dirty blonde toddler screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran out of the house, “Tío (Uncle)! Tío! Tío! Tío! Tíoooooo!”

It made him smile, crouching and opening his arms to catch the little boy, holding and hugging him as he stood back up. “Mi sobrino (My nephew)!” The child was securely sitting on one of his arms, looking more like his dad than the last time he saw him. “You’ve gotten so big, Stevie!” He tickled the toddler’s belly, making him laugh and squirm.

Connie came out with Nate on her hip and Steve smiling beside her.

“What are you feeding him?” Javier asked his friends. “How has he grown so much in, what, eight, nine months?”

“Kids grow fast, Javi,” Steve answered. “Nate’s already walking.”

His eyes went wide, getting a good look at the baby who’d only been six or so months the last time he was here and now was over a year old and a toddler—he was bigger, his olive-colored arms not as chubby, the black curls on top of his head longer, and eyes still as dark as he remembered.

“You’ve gotta be fuc—” The other adults gave him looks, quickly correcting himself. “—freaking kidding me. He’s walking? Already?”

“Yep,” Connie answered. “And talking. Right now, he’s tired because it’s nap time. Isn’t that right, baby?” she cooed, kissing Nate’s hair, his head resting against her shoulder and babbling.

He was stunned at how quickly they grew in so little time, feeling a ball of anxiety form in his gut, thinking about his future children and losing so much time with them because of work. Dread was heavy like a stone on his chest at the thought of missing milestones of his kid’s growth.

Fingers snapped in front of his face to get his attention, hearing his name and realizing it was Steve, Javier swallowing hard.

“What?” he asked.

His best friend’s eyebrow rose. “I asked if you were gonna be polite and introduce us to your girlfriend.”

“Oh, shi-shoot.” She was on the side with his empty arm, and he rubbed his hand up her back, smiling. “Sorry, Steve, Connie, this is the woman I’m gonna marry—” He told them her name. “—or I just call her mi Cielito, my little heaven.” He kissed her temple. “Cielito, these are my best friends, Steve, Connie, Connie’s got Nate, and—” Straightening, he looked at the child in his arms. “Hey buddy, you wanna tell her your name?” he asked gently. Stevie hid his face in Javier’s neck, and his big hand went to the back of his head while his parents laughed. “Awe, it’s okay, bud.” He rubbed over the boy’s hair. “I know she’s a new person. She’s really nice and excited to meet you, and she makes amazing cookies.”

His little head popped up. “Cookies?” his tiny voice asked.

Javier smiled. He knew that’d get him. “Yeah, she makes amazing cookies.”

“I want cookies,” Stevie replied. His attention turned to Connie. “Can we have cookies, Mommy?”

“One second, baby boy.” She walked toward Cielito to whisper something in her ear.

His girlfriend nodded her head, answering, “Sure! I can do that!”

“Is it really okay?” the other woman asked, meeting her eyes.

“Yeah!”

“Okay.” Connie looked at her eldest son. “The nice lady says she’ll make cookies with you, but you’ll have to tell her your name.”

The boy looked past Javi to excitedly shout at Cielito, “Stevie!” Reaching his little arms toward her, and it made warmth spread through him when, without missing a beat, she took the toddler from him.

“Hi, Stevie,” she said with a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

They were facing him, and Javier pointed at her. “She’s gonna be your tía (aunt), Stevie.”

The child’s eyes moved from him to her. “Tía?” he asked, shoving a finger at her chest.

“Yeah, bud, she’s your tía (aunt), and I’m your tío (uncle).”

Tiny blue eyes met his. “Tío—” His head turned to her. “—Tía.”

“Yes.” She confirmed. “And you’re Stevie.” She gently poked his chest.

“Stevie!” He clapped his hands. “We’re gonna make cookies, Tía?”

“Yes, your mom said after your nap.”

“Well, let’s head inside then, guys,” grown-up Steve announced.

“Come with me,” Connie told his girlfriend. “The men can get the bags, and I’ll put the boys down for a nap.”

“Okay,” she replied.

It made him smile how easily she went, his eyes on her back with the toddler on her hip, whispering to him, and Javier thought it looked so perfect, so right; his mind was running wild with images of what she’d look like holding their child—wishing she was holding their child. Stevie looked like a miniature version of Steve; would Javier’s child with his future wife look more like him or her? Or would they be a mix of them both? What he knew for sure was they’d be perfect, and he would love them more than anything in the goddamn world.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get married.

Hands landed on his shoulders from behind.

“Jesus Christ, Jav,” Steve laughed, giving him a playful shake. He got out of the hold, spinning around to see his friend’s grinning face that made him clench his jaw. “I knew you had it bad, but this is something else—you’re really in love with this girl.”

His eyebrows creased, frowning.

Steve had known about his girlfriend since their relationship began and even gave him wanted and unwanted advice when he did and didn’t need it—he knew damn well Javier loved her. He’d been on his ass to fucking tell her, like how he’s been on his ass to get him to fucking propose, and only now was he actually believing it was all real?

It pissed him off that his best friend doubted his feelings for her.

“Fuck you, man,” he replied, shoving the other man’s shoulder and watching his face fall. “Yeah, I fucking love her. I’ve fucking told you.”

“Hey, hey—” Steve put up his hands in a placating gesture. “—I know you love her, Javier. I’ve known from how you’ve talked about her, but seeing it in person is something else.”

“What do you mean?” His hands were perched on his hips, ignoring the beads of sweat dripping down his spine under his shirt.

Steve smiled. “That ugly mug of yours—” He gestured at Javier’s face. “It’s clear in how you look at her. It’s like you’ve got fuckin’ hearts in your eyes or some shit,” he chuckled, Javier sighing. “I’ve known you for a long fucking time, Javi, and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at her.”

The explanation mollified him.

“I’ve never felt like this with anyone but her.”

“I know.” His friend clapped a hand on his bicep. “And I’m really fucking happy for you, Jav.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sweating my balls off. Let’s get inside.”

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot,” he replied, heading toward the back of the rental.

He didn’t need help carrying the bags or directions to the guest room.

The house was nice and cool as he walked inside along the stone tiled floor and directly into their formal sitting room containing a long beige couch against the far left wall with a walnut-colored coffee table in front of it; a smaller version of the sofa along the wall beside the front door and under the large white-framed window, a chair that matched the same style across from it, and end tables at the sides of the couches.

They never actually used this area unless they were hosting guests or during Christmas when Connie would rearrange the furniture to make it picturesque with their tree. Steve thought it was a waste of space; his wife could never know that.

His shoes came off with everyone else’s by the front door, where Connie had a shoe rack overflowing with pairs for adults and children, leaving his next to Cielito’s on the floor. Going further into the room, Steve headed for the kitchen while he turned down the hallway that opened to the right and led to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Olivia’s was the first door on the right. The second was a full bath themed around dolphins, her favorite animal, with them on the shower curtain, the art on the walls, painted on the toothbrush holder, and soap dispenser.

Next was Nate’s room, his door closed and across the hall from his parents’ master suite.

The two boys’ rooms happened to be connected by a bathroom between them. Javier stopped in his tracks at Stevie’s open door—the woman he came here with, the one who made him the happiest man in the world, who he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with, was sitting on the edge of his nephew’s bed with her back to the door, her attention on the child lying on his side facing her with his eyes closed under a light blanket as she rubbed small circles on his shirt-covered back.

Javier’s eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“She volunteered,” Connie whispered behind him, causing him to jump in his skin. “Sorry for scaring you—“ She squeezed his arm reassuringly. “She volunteered,” she continued. “Asked me how she could help and what Stevie’s nap time routine was, and it looks like she’s a pro. She’s great with him.”

“Yeah, she is.” He spoke just as quietly, glancing over his shoulder. “Rubbing his back still puts him to sleep?”

She playfully slapped his arm. “That’s your damn fault.”

“It makes him fall asleep, doesn’t it?”

“Quickest way. We do it with Nate, too.”

“Then why are you mad at me?”

“It’s not right you out-parented us. Now, you better marry this woman, Javier. It’s about damn time you become a father.”

He scratched at his mustache. “You, uh, think I’d be a good dad?”

She looked at him like he was stupid.

“Javier, you’ve always been so much help when you stay with us, and the kids adore you. Yeah, you’re gonna be a fantastic father.”

His throat was feeling tight. Steve arrived at Connie’s back, holding a beer.

“What are y’all whispering about?” the other man quietly asked.

“Javi being a great dad,” his wife replied, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Oh, yeah, we’ve known that for years,” Steve said. “We just didn’t think you’d ever pull your head out of your ass and settle down.”

“Didn’t find the right person until now.” Javier shrugged. He peeked into the room, seeing his future wife was still occupied. Turning his head, he told the other two, “Follow me to the guest room. I need to ask you a favor.”

To be honest, you were really nervous about helping with nap time and stayed a little longer than necessary, rubbing the sleeping three-year-old's back to ensure he truly was passed out.

There’d been whispers in the hall that hadn’t helped your nerves, wondering what the other three adults were saying amongst themselves and knowing it was probably about you, hoping it was positive. Steve and Connie seemed to like you, and she had trusted you to help with her child, so that was a good sign. They’d disappeared into the guest bedroom, down and across the hall, Connie had pointed out earlier when she gave you a very quick tour.

You figured it was probably safe to leave now, ensuring the toddler was tucked in under his dark blue blanket before you’d gotten up and quietly tip-toed out of the door you closed behind you with a soft click.

It didn’t take too many steps to get to where the guest room door was cracked open, with light spilling out into the hallway, and muffled voices could be heard. You entered, finding your boyfriend and the other couple huddled at the foot of the queen-sized bed directly in front of you.

The walls were painted a soothing greige, the greyish-beige color accented by the eggshell white ceiling, trim, and doors for the closet and en suite. An interesting choice was the wrought iron bed frame that looked old and out of place alongside the nice newer black bedside tables and dresser across from it and the stone-colored armless accent chair in the corner—even the lamps were modern, making the dark, possibly rusting, iron stick out like a sore thumb. The large framed photos of ocean waves crashing and rolling decorating the walls made up for it, though, enjoying the room's atmosphere.

Javi’s head turned toward you, and he smiled. “Hey, baby.” He took a couple of steps to grab your hand and pulled you over to the Murphys.

“What were you guys talking about?” you asked.

“Going to the beach tomorrow,” Connie answered with a big smile. “Olivia’s staying home from school, and we were thinking we’d spend the day there.”

That made you grin. “I’d love that!” Javi pulled you into his side.

Your bags were on the ground in front of the dresser.

“I know,” your boyfriend said, kissing your hair.

It had warm fuzziness spreading through your veins at how thoughtful they were.

“Well, glad we’ve got that figured out,” Connie announced, clapping her hands together. “Javi knows, but let me show you where everything is.”

“Okay.”

She took you into the pretty standard bathroom—the combination shower/bathtub against the furthest wall from the door with a floral printed shower curtain on a golden rod; the bathroom vanity on your right as you walked in, painted white with a similar color laminate countertop and sink with red handles to open the drawers and cabinets under the sink, a large mirror hanging on the wall above it, and the toilet in the space between it and bath. She opened the doors under the sink so you could see where the towels and washcloths were kept and led you back into the bedroom to open the closet door so you knew where the extra blankets were.

“—and I’m sorry about the bed.” Connie grimaced.

“Yeah,” Javi interjected. “What happened to the old bed frame?” His hands were on the top of the footboard that looked like a wide, upside-down U made out of a thick pipe, with two smaller ones going across and others connecting those two in the middle. He gave it a little shake, the metal squeaking loudly.

“Steve saw this—” She pointed at it. “—and said it reminded him of a bed he’d slept in at his grandparents, and he just had to buy it. He thought it’d look great in here.”

“Right…” Javi replied, turning his head, and even though all you could see was the back of it, you knew he was glaring at his friend.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Steve asked, crossing his arms. “I have fond memories of spending time with ‘ol peepaw and granny. Like when he’d take me duck hunting.”

You were pretty sure you heard Javi mutter, “Fuckin’ hillbilly.”

Obviously, he was not happy about the sounds the bed was making, and you were a little disappointed about it, too—he hadn’t been joking about Steve hating you fucking in here.

The blonde man was smirking. “What was that?”

“I said it’s great you’ve got fond memories,” Javi sighed, looking forward again with the fingers of one hand pressed to his forehead.

“So,” Connie began, “again, I’m sorry about how squeaky the bed is—”

“I’m not,” Steve interrupted, which earned him a middle finger from your boyfriend, whom the blonde man simply laughed at.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” you said, trying to keep things civil.

“Hopefully,” the other woman replied with a nervous smile. “Well, we’re gonna get out of your hair ‘cause I’m sure you wanna freshen up after your flight.”

“If it’s okay with you guys, I might take a cat nap after I shower. Getting up so early and traveling has exhausted me.”

“Oh, that’s absolutely fine, honey.” She checked her watch. “We’ve got a little over an hour before Olivia is home, and the boys will sleep until right before she gets home. Come on, Steve, let’s leave them alone.”

“Yes, dear,” her husband answered, following her as she walked out of the room, Javi moving to close and lock the door after them.

He turned around with a grumpy expression, letting out a loud, long sigh.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is,” you told him as you took a couple of steps to the bed and started getting on it—immediately, high-pitched squeaks sounded with any kind of movement you made on the mattress. “Okay, so it’s worse than your bed at your dad’s…”

“He did this on purpose,” he seethed, putting his hands on his slim hips while all his weight went to one side.

You were lying on your side with your head propped up on your arm to look at him standing over by the door.

“Uh, yeah, that’s obvious. It was a lot of effort to put into cock blocking you. He really doesn’t like the idea of you fucking under his roof.”

“I told you he’d hate it—didn’t think he’d do this.” He pouted.

You didn’t like how upset he was, and you had a great idea of how to cheer him up.

Ignoring the ear-splitting sounds as you got up from the bed.

“Keep standing there, looking pretty. I’ll be right back.”

You saw the confusion on his face for only a moment before you were walking around the front of the bed and away from him to go through the bathroom door beside the dresser. In seconds, you were back in the bedroom and tossing a white towel onto the grey chair in the corner on the other side of the en suite door.

“Are you taking a shower?” he asked, watching with curiosity as you moved toward him, his eyes on yours.

“Not right now,” you answered. “I’ve got more important things to do.”

Finally, you were in his space. “Like what?”

“You,” you answered, grabbing him by his open collar and tugging him toward you to crush your mouth against his, swallowing his moan. His arm went around your waist, the other hand on your back, allowing you to lick into his mouth, his tongue eagerly moving with yours in a familiar dance you both knew all too well.

Arousal was burning in your belly, feeling your heartbeat at the apex of your thighs, your need for him seeping into your underwear.

Your fingers started working open the buttons on his shirt.

“We can’t fuck on the bed,” he breathily said between kisses, a big palm grabbing your ass.

“The chair,” you replied, nipping at his bottom lip.

Suddenly, he was pulling back to look you in the eyes, his reddened lips glistening from spit while his shirt was unbuttoned, hanging open.

“The fucking chair,” he rasped, a look on his face like he was only just realizing.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “There’s also the floor, the counter in the bathroom, the shower, and the clear space at the wall right there—” You pointed behind where the door opened. “—if you were in the mood for wall sex, but you’re really upset about the bed—” You rubbed your hands up his bare chest. “—so I thought you’d enjoy getting ridden on the chair.”

His lips turned up in a toothy grin. “I love you so fucking much.” He kissed you quickly.

You matched his expression, looping your arms around his neck. “I love you, too, and I’m not letting a sabotaged bed stop me from getting dicked down. We just have to be… creative and quiet.”

His eyes darkened, the pink of his tongue peeking out for a second, and when he spoke, his voice had gone deeper and raspier. “You’re not tired,” he said matter-of-factly, his arm pulling you into him so your bodies were flush.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p.’

“You don’t want to take a nap.”

“I don’t want to take a nap,” you confirmed.

His fingers slid along your cheek until he cradled your face, his gaze stuck to yours. “You want me to fuck you.”

“Very much.”

His head moved until his lips were grazing yours, nuzzling your nose with his. “What got you so worked up you couldn’t wait until we went to bed tonight, Cielito?”

His proximity was fanning the flames of arousal inside you, making your entire body heat, your nipples tighten, and your lips tingle where his barely touched.

Snaking your hand between your bodies, you palmed his hard cock straining against the zipper of his pants. “Probably the same thing that has you hard as a rock—I can’t stop thinking about having babies with you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, thrusting into your hand. “I can’t fucking wait.”

“To get me pregnant?” you purred, stroking him over his jeans. “Or to fuck me?”

“Both,” he growled, grabbing the hem of your oversized shirt and saying as he roughly pulled it up and off your arms to land carelessly on the floor, “and you fucking know it.” You did, and it made your pussy throb.

“I do.” You helped him shrug off his button-up, your hands going to his belt next. “And I can’t fucking wait either.” The buckle clinked as you effortlessly worked it open and unbuttoned his jeans, hearing the teeth pull apart as you unzipped them.

Warm palms held your face to make you meet the dark pools of his eyes.

“To get pregnant,” his voice had gone lower, seeing his tongue quickly wet his bottom lip. “Or for me to fuck you?”

His pants were undone, and with there being no underwear in your way, you reached in and took him in hand, his shaft feeling like steel wrapped in heated velvet—hot, hard, and silky to the touch. A thrill moved through you at his mouth falling open and eyes closing, his groan going straight to your cunt.

“Both,” you answered.

One word and he became ravenous, desperate, smashing his mouth to yours in a passionate kiss while he went about undressing you as he walked you backward toward the chair—your bra getting tossed somewhere to your left, his lips leaving yours and stopping long enough for him to tug down your leggings and underwear in one fell swoop. He ghosted kisses up your body when he rose again until your mouths were attached once more, continuing the journey to the corner chair, his arm holding you around your middle to help guide you, your hands hanging onto his shoulders.

He spoke between presses of his lips to yours, “You looked so fucking perfect holding the kid…. You’re gonna be an amazing mother to our children…. I need you so fucking bad…. I wanna give you a baby…. Let me fuck a baby into you…. Please.” The last bits made you moan into his mouth, your nails digging into his skin.

The lines were blurred, and you weren’t sure if this was him leaning into the kink you shared or if he was being serious. It was true you couldn’t wait to get pregnant, but you both were well aware the apartment you lived in wasn’t big enough for the addition of a baby and had been actively working with one of the only two architects in town to design the home you planned to build. There was also the fact you wanted to get married first, and the proposal was months away. As much as you both wanted a child, you couldn’t start trying for another year at minimum.

Why were you overthinking this? You would just have a discussion with him after the sex to make sure you were both on the same page.

“God, yes,” you gasped. “I want it.”

The soft fabric of the chair hit the back of your legs, his big hands gripping your asscheeks, murmuring against your lips, “Let me eat your pussy first.”

“Later,” came your muffled reply. “This has to be quick, so we don’t get caught.”

You could feel him frowning before he broke away.

“I don’t fucking care if we get caught.” His eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were turned down.

What he said made you sigh, another thing that had you overthinking. “I know you don’t care,” you kept your tone as gentle as possible, rubbing your hands over his bare back. “But I do. They’ve been your friends for years and already love you. I’m only just meeting them, and I don’t want to give them a bad first impression. Yeah, I’m okay with going against Steve’s wishes and fucking here, only as long as he doesn’t know. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I was an asshole for even thinking of letting us get caught.”

“It’s okay.” Your hands skated along his naked sides. “Now, let’s get back to the sexy—I am so horny.”

His hand fell. “Do you need me to finger you?”

“I think I’m wet enough. One second, though.” You held up a finger before turning around and spreading the towel over the seat. Facing him again, you ordered, “Pants off, Mr. Peña, and sit,” and moved out of his way.

He huffed out an amused breath, pushing down his jeans. “As you wish, Mrs. Peña.” Stepping out of them, a pained groan slipped from his throat as he straightened, taking the seat as you requested.

The armless chair was about as wide as a dining room chair with some cushioning and a channel-stitched back, covered in grey velvet, the wooden legs painted black. Javi sat down, getting comfortable as he sat back and spread his legs.

The sight before you had your mouth going dry.

His lust-filled gaze was looking up at you, taking in the broad shoulders, the expanse of his golden chest down to his soft tummy, where below his belly button, a trail of hair led your eyes to his big hand slowly stroking his hard cock; the tip was red and shining from the steady dribble of precum leaking from it, that he was using to ease the glide of his palm—he was the perfect picture of seduction and you were under his spell, willing to do anything he wanted.

A crooked smile appeared under his mustache.

“You wanna watch me jerk off?” he asked. “Or are you gonna ride me?”

The questions snapped you out of your reverie.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, stepping to stand between his widened knees. “You’re just so sexy, and you know, watching you jerk off really gets me going.”

“I know, mi amor (my love),” he chuckled.

His hand left his dick, the long shaft resting against the coarse hair on his belly. Gently, he tugged you by the arm down for a kiss, and you took over, slowly stroking him at the odd angle, making him groan into your mouth when you went lower to fondle his sack, his large palm reaching around to trace the curve of your ass before giving it a squeeze.

On occasion, your husband-to-be had the tendency to get caught up in kissing—Javi loved kissing, so when he pulled you forward by your backside, your arms went around his neck for balance, and you welcomed his tongue when it pressed between your lips. His palms slid up your sides to rest on your ribs as he plundered your mouth, your heart hammering in your chest, feeling slick coating your inner thighs.

The needy ache in your core got worse and worse with every passing minute, finally getting to the point where you had to get him inside you, or there was a chance you were going to combust from the pent-up tension.

You broke away, his lips chasing yours.

“I need you,” you panted.

His eyes met yours, his pupils blown so wide that only a thin sliver of chocolate brown remained.

“Okay,” he said through heavy breaths with a nod. “I’ve got you, baby. Stand up.”

You did as he said, watching as he spit on his fingers and rubbed the saliva onto his cock, doing it a couple of times until his entire length glistened in the bright overhead light.

Once satisfied, his hands were on your upper thighs as he helped you get one leg over his onto the ground beside the chair, then the other to have you standing on either side of him and straddling his hips. Not wasting any more time, you reached between your legs, guiding him to your entrance, and slowly lowered. That first stretch always stole your breath, resting your arms on his freckled shoulders, one of his going around your back to bring you flush to his front, his free hand skating down your back to grip one plump cheek of your ass.

Javi’s eyes had squeezed shut, his breath hitching, feeling how your walls were having to make space for the girth of him and relishing the slight burn from the lack of foreplay. He wasn’t even halfway in, and you rose until only the tip remained, dropping again to take a little more, doing the same thing over and over, taking more of him each time until he was fully seated inside you.

The familiar fullness made you smile, a deep sigh leaving you at how good it felt. Your skin was buzzing just below the surface, your body hot all over, sweat beginning to form on your brow, and you were in heaven.

His face was against your collarbone, his warm breath hitting your skin. “You feel so fucking good,” his voice was muffled, the hand on your ass tightening. “Fuck, te amo (I love you). No sé cuánto tiempo voy a durar (I don’t know how long I'll last). Úsame para hacerte venir (Use me to make yourself come). Úsame, por favor (Use me, please). ¿Puedes hacer eso por mí, Cielito (Can you do that for me, Cielito)? ¿Puedes hacerte sentir bien (Can you make yourself feel good)?”

“Sí (Yes),” you answered. “Sí, Papí (Yes, Papí).”

His chest rumbled under you from his groan, a hand coming down on your ass in a sharp slap that made you clench around him.

“Monta me (Ride me),” he ordered, smacking your backside again. “Monta me duro, mi amor (Ride me hard, my love).”

Grabbing the hair at the back of his head, you pulled on it as you straightened your spine to make him look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded when they blinked open, while yours narrowed in a glare.

“Javier, stop smacking my ass,” you hissed. “We have to be quiet, and you better make sure I don’t get too loud.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Lo siento, cariño (I’m sorry, sweetheart).” His warm hands rubbed along the sides of your spine. “Prometo, estar más callado y evitar que hagas mucho ruido (I promise, I will be quieter and keep you from making too much noise).”

“Thank you,” you replied, pushing his hair back from his face. Leaning in close, you gave him a gentle peck on his lips and the tip of his nose. “If you come before me, it’s fine—it would probably take me with you, anyway.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, feeling him twitch inside you. “With how you’re soaking my dick, I think you’ll get off pretty fucking fast.”

“Probably.” You shrugged and started rolling your hips, watching in delight as his mouth fell open in a moan and his body shuddered.

His arm wrapped around your waist, the other hand holding your jaw, keeping his eyes locked on yours, your own arm over his shoulder, and free hand caressing the side of his face. Both of you were sharing in the pleasure, your bodies fitting together so perfectly like two puzzle pieces, breathing each other in, losing yourselves in this moment.

He wanted you to use him to make yourself feel good, so you did.

Standing made it easy to rise on your legs, sliding up his hard cock to leave only the head and fall back down, thrusting your hips forward on the downstroke to take him to the hilt and make him raggedly groan.

Heat was blooming in your belly, getting hotter with every second you worked yourself on his dick. He pulled you in for a kiss, and you slowed to a grind, the rough curls at the base of his cock rubbing deliciously against the swollen bud of your clit, adding gasoline to the fire inside you.

Like this, he was in so deep you were sure you could probably feel him if you pressed on your stomach, and you knew if he knew that, he’d be a smug bastard about it, which was valid.

You started moving again, the kissing becoming sporadic as you rode him in earnest, your arousal spilling down his shaft to coat his balls. His fingers were digging into the cheeks of your ass, his arms flexing as he gave you momentum and helped you move.

The two of you were trying your best to stay quiet and hold back your sounds, Javi’s face flushed and forehead wet with sweat, both unable to keep some noise from slipping out. The loudest sound was between your legs, hearing the wet suck of your slick gushing around him when his dick pushed into your drenched hole.

Something about fucking in places where there was a chance of getting caught really turned you and him on. Add in, you were told without explicitly being told you weren’t allowed to have sex here, and the higher risk had you rocketing toward your orgasm—Javi was right; you were going to get off quick.

His hands went to your tits, his thick fingers zeroing in on your pebbled nipples, pinching and rolling them before his mouth's hot, wet heat pulled one stiff peak into his mouth.

“God, yes,” you moaned, pleasure shooting directly to your cunt as you bounced on his thick cock.

The muscles in your belly were tightening, adjusting your hips so every time you sunk down, he was pressing into that one spot that dotted your vision with stars, his mouth giving your other breast the same treatment.

This all felt amazing, but there was something you needed…

“Touch me,” you panted, rising and falling in his lap.

His head popped up, glazed over eyes looking at your face.

“Anywhere?” he breathily asked, and the question made you stifle a moan.

“Yes.”

“I’ll get you there.” And you had no doubt.

He started with tweaking your wet nipple, roughly pinching it, his other hand going between your bodies to rub his thumb against your sensitive clit, the sensations feeling like electricity arcing up your spine, making your rhythm stutter for a moment—the heat in your stomach was growing and getting hotter, the closer you were to your climax.

“Hang onto my neck,” he told you.

“What?”

“Lean forward and hold onto my neck.”

You did as he said, pressing into his front and hanging onto him.

His hand on your breast moved to cup your bottom, and he adjusted in the seat, grunting as he sat up, the chair creaking beneath him. Your tempo slowed while he continued circling your bundle of nerves with one hand, his other arm reaching around your thigh to spread two fingers around where his cock was impaling you, feeling how he was stretching you open.

“Your tight little pussy takes my dick so well,” he spoke into your breasts with how you were raised up on your feet, his cock halfway inside you. “I swear I was fucking made for you.”

A moan slipped from your lips unbidden when those same fingers slid through the abundance of your slick on his length and continued up, swiping along the edges of your puckered hole, causing sparks to dance in your center. One thick finger slowly pushed into the tight ring of muscle to the first knuckle, your eyes rolling back in your head and toes curling at the added fullness, biting your lip to keep yourself from making any noise. You worked yourself faster on his dick, tilting your pelvis so he was pressing into all of the right spots, his digit fucking in and out of you at the same pace, it all making you go dizzy with pleasure.

Your inner walls were fluttering.

“Come on, baby,” he rasped, not stopping what he was doing. “Once you come, I’m gonna fill you up.” His head lifted. “Gonna fuck you full of me.” He kissed your clavicle, maintaining your pace. “Stuff you so full of my come, I knock you up.” You whimpered and were almost there. “Isn’t that what you want?” His fingers were still circling your clit and pushing in and out of your asshole, your hips rolling on his cock. “For me to finally get you pregnant?” he asked. “I’ll fuck a baby into you, Cielito, all you have to do is ask.”

And you knew he meant it, the thought entering your mind that you could throw out your birth control today, and odds were he’d have you pregnant by next month—that was what made you crest, sitting all the way down in his lap as you came, your body tensing up tight as euphoria exploded out from your center, spreading through your system. His hand on your front was suddenly over your mouth to smother your loud cry, your body trembling as you slumped into him.

“Good girl,” his words came out thick and rough. “You’re so good to me.”

Your chest was heaving, enjoying the aftershocks and the feel of your cunt spasming around his dick that was still hard inside you.

His hand left your lips to ghost up and down your spine, and he removed the finger from your ass.

“This baby stuff is getting dangerous,” you sounded drunk, slurring your words, your face in the crook of his neck.

“What?”

“Our breeding kinks. You wanna know the thing that fucking got me?”

“Yeah.”

Leaning back to look him in the eyes, you told him, “The thought that if I tossed my birth control today, you’d probably have me pregnant by next month.” His cock jerked hard inside you. “I got off on you being fucking virile.”

His eyes were practically black, licking his lips before he spoke. “We, uh—” He cleared his throat. “—we, uh, could test your theory…?” The hope was there on his face, and it made you feel like utter shit to have to deny him of his dream. This man wanted to be a father so fucking bad, and you more than wanted to make him one. It just wasn’t feasible at this point in time.

You held his face in your hands, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks.

“Javi, I love you,” you started. “I want to have all of your babies, but as we both know, the apartment is too small for us and a baby. There’s also the whole I want us to be married thing, too.”

“Pop said we can move in with him while the house is being built, and we’ll be married before a baby is born.” He sounded very sure of himself.

Your eyebrow lifted. “How are you so positive we’ll be married in less than ten months?”

He smiled. “Because you pre-accepted my proposal and told me you didn’t want a big wedding.”

That was something you told him.

Standing in front of a giant room full of people you actually only knew a fraction of and being the center of attention sounded like a literal nightmare scenario. A tiny wedding with only close friends and family in attendance was something more your speed—hell, eloping seemed like a goddamn dream.

It hit you then the possibility of how soon the two of you could be married, and excitement bubbled up inside you, doing the first thing that came to mind and kissing him deeply, cradling his smooth cheeks in your palms. His lips were soft and plush, his tongue delving into your mouth with a moan, it turning into one of those kisses that drove you wild.

You needed to make him feel good. You needed him to feel your love and happiness.

His dick was still throbbing in your pussy, and you started rolling your hips, his hands cupping your backside, keeping you in charge of the rhythm while he assisted in your movements.

The way he liked it when you were on top was for you to go hard and fast, so you lifted and slammed back down in quick succession. It was slippery between your thighs, his cock sliding easily in and out of your wet heat, the kisses turning messy with how you were moving on him.

In this position with both of you sitting up, you could get him to come pretty quickly if you sloppily made out with him and occasionally clenched your cunt around his cock; he’d say that was playing dirty if this was a regular romp, but under current circumstances, they were legal maneuvers like how he toyed with your clit and put a finger in your ass. These were all finishing moves that generally only came into play during quickies, though, when he was in the mood to make you come multiple times, he was liberal in their usage—and every time you were about to utilize a move, the fatality screen from Mortal Kombat came to mind, hearing in your brain the announcer say, “Finish Him.”

His eyebrows were knitted together, and his eyes were closed, the effort he was putting into being quiet causing pitiful whines to escape his throat. He was tense beneath you, every muscle in his body pulled taut like a bowstring close to snapping, and you knew he was almost there, clenching up around him on your downstrokes.

“‘M close,” he murmured, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your behind and spreading your cheeks while helping you rise and fall.

“Yeah?” you replied through heavy breaths. “I want you to come for me, Javi.” Your kiss landed on the side of his mouth. “I love you.” This kiss made it onto his lips. “I want to marry you, have your children, and spend the rest of my life with you.”

He pressed his face into your chest, kissing what he could while you moved up and down—over the tops of your breasts, along your collarbones, up the line of your throat; all the while, he was saying against your skin, “Te amo (I love you). Me voy a casar contigo (I’m going to marry you). Te voy a dar todos los hijos que quieras (I will give you as many children as you want). Voy a pasar el resto de mi vida contigo (I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you). Fuck, te sientes tan bien (you feel so good). Eres perfecta (You’re perfect). No puedo esperar a verte embarazada (I can’t wait to see you pregnant).”

“Embarazada con tu bebé (Pregnant with your baby),” you panted.

A strangled noise came from him, shoving his face in your neck to mute it as he pulled you down to completely bury himself inside you. His teeth sunk into the spot where your neck met your shoulder, and you hissed at the pleasurable pain; his dick thickened, feeling it jerk, and the familiar wet pulse of spurts and spurts of his come gushing deep in your depths to fill you.

You ran your fingers through his sweat-damp hair, his heaving breaths hot against your skin as he soothed over the bite with kisses, your own chest rising and falling rapidly, his arms hugging you close to him.

The solutions he had so you could have a baby were rolling around in your head, and you wondered if it really would be that easy.

Chucho would be over the goddamn moon if you guys temporarily moved in with him, and then a baby on top of that? His first nieto (grandchild)? The thing he constantly brought up? Chucho wanted to be a grandfather just as bad as Javi wanted to be a dad, and you knew he’d do anything for you both.

Why were nerves fluttering around in your belly? You should be ecstatic, but there was a voice in your brain that sounded a lot like your mother pointing out you haven’t even been together a year. For all intents and purposes, you were still in the honeymoon stage of your relationship, and that’d have to end at some point. Would you both still feel the same after a year has passed? Two? Five? Ten? Would he still be as attracted to you after your body changed from pregnancy?

These questions were stressing you out.

“Javi?”

He hummed in reply.

“You know how you feel about me right now. Do you think you’ll still feel that way in a year?”

His head came up with his eyebrows pulled together.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“What about in two years?”

He was giving you a look like the answer was obvious.

“Cielito, I’m gonna love you like this for the rest of my fucking life.”

Your voice was small, “How can you be sure?”

His hands had started rubbing comforting circles on your hips, looking at you with a tender gaze.

“I’m my father’s kid,” he said, “and when we find the person meant for us, that’s it; it’s game over. We dedicate our lives to them, and we love them so fucking deeply we feel it in our souls—this is going to sound stupid, but Pop says we’re penguins.”

“Penguins?”

“Yeah, he watched some nature documentary and found out they mate for life—we’re penguins.”

It made you grin. “That is the absolute cutest shit I have ever heard.”

He smiled. “I knew you’d like it. Does that make you feel better?”

“Yes,” you answered truthfully. “We’re mated for life.”

“Yeah, we are, and I know it’s not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. We’ll have our ups and downs like all couples do, but there’s no one else I’d rather go through the good and bad with.” The look on his face changed to something unsure. “Do you, uh, think your feelings will change?”

“I don’t think so. My love for you is so embedded inside me that it sometimes feels like you’ve always been with me, and I just didn’t know. So, I think I’m a penguin, too.”

He chuckled, leaning in to sweetly kiss you. When his lips left yours, he nuzzled your face.

“Anything else you need reassurance about?” he gently asked with his nose sliding along yours.

“Um, the other thing was if you’d still be attracted to my body post-pregnancy…”

A thing you loved about Javi was how you could basically tell what he was thinking from the expression on his face, and right this second, as he stared at you, he was trying to work out how to politely tell you it was stupid to think he’d find you unattractive after having his baby.

“Are you talking about the body that grew our baby and kept them safe for nine months?” he asked, and yeah, you realized now how dumb it was to think something so absurd. “Yeah, I’m still gonna be attracted to you,” he continued, “the woman I love, who made me a father. I’m not gonna care about stretch marks or if you put on weight or any of the other shit that’ll change. You did something fucking incredible, and honestly, it makes me hard thinking about you being pregnant, so if there are things to remind me of that, I’m probably gonna be all over you constantly. Feel better?”

That eased your worries.

“Much.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you. Now, let’s go take a shower.” You started to move, and he stopped you.

Hope was swirling in his eyes. “Is this a yes to a baby?”

“This is a maybe on the baby, and we will need to have a long discussion with your father.”

The smile he gave you was so blinding, you were sure it outshined the sun, a joyous laugh coming from him as he hugged you into his arms and squeezed you tight.

“I’m so fucking happy.” The emotion was heavy in his voice. “Thank you so much.” He sniffled in your ear.

Your hands slid over his back. “Don’t thank me yet. It’s not set in stone.”

He pulled back, his eyes rimmed red, tears falling down his cheeks.

“No,” he replied. “Thank you for loving me and being with me and wanting to have kids with me. I know it’s not a sure thing, but it’s the fact there’s a chance.” His voice cracked when he said the last word, his shoulders shaking.

“Oh, babe.” You wrapped your arms around him and held him close to your body.

This reaction for a maybe made you want to throw all caution to the wind and say fuck it, and just start trying, the rational part of your brain telling you to cool your jets. It was an angel and demon on your shoulders situation, with you leaning toward the baby, and it wasn’t going to help that the two of you would be around children for the next few days.

The way Javi interacted with Stevie? Almost killed you. He was so sweet, and the child clearly loved him so much it had your ovaries aching. Three days, you were going to have to watch him with the Murphy kids, and you weren’t sure if you were going to survive or keep from throwing your birth control in the trash.

You had to be strong.

Javier knew this trip would be important since he was bringing his wif-girlfriend to meet his best friend’s family. He just didn’t expect also to get the news they might be able to start trying for a baby sooner than they had planned.

Don’t get him wrong, he was excited about having their house built and getting to have a say in the design, but they were looking at twelve to fourteen months before it’d be ready to move into, and he did not want to wait that long to start their family—he was feeling… impatient. He’d already wasted enough of his life, and with him turning fucking forty on Sunday, he’d been plagued with thoughts of how many years he had left above ground.

A couple of weeks ago, his therapist told him he was having a mid-life crisis, which he scoffed at because he sure as hell wasn’t buying some expensive sports car or chasing women half his age—he outright owned his dependable truck and was more than happy in his amazing and healthy relationship with a woman slightly younger than him. Then the therapist went for his jugular over why he’d begun wrestling with feelings of his mortality and how it started with him planning their trip to Miami and thinking about the Murphys and Cielito. What it boiled down to was he regretted the time he lost to his job and now felt unfulfilled that, at his age, he didn’t have a family of his own like Steve.

The guy was right, and it annoyed him.

It gave him a swift kick in the ass to figure out some things, though.

Like how he went out to his dad’s last Tuesday after work to have a beer with him and ask if he was serious about them living with him if they were ever expecting and their home was still under construction—he said yes, and told Javier when Cielito eventually got pregnant he was planning to turn the guest bedroom into a nursery anyway.

There was also the ring box he rolled up in a pair of socks tucked away at the bottom of the duffle bag he brought.

He was ready to make some big changes, and by the end of this trip, he hoped more than anything he’d have a fiancée.

After he got all of his happy tears out, they kissed and got off of the chair to take a shower, stopping on the way for her to grab her toiletry bag from her luggage.

They washed each other and stole kisses, his hands wandering over her soapy skin with her giggles echoing in the stall. It didn’t take them very long to finish, going through their after-shower routines to get dry and do their hair. They changed into clean clothes, and he put on a lavender-colored button-up and some jeans, his eyes glued to her ass in the high-waisted denim shorts she was wearing as she bent over to put on her socks. He found himself closing the distance in two long strides to grab her hips, carefully bumping and rubbing the front of his pants against her backside.

“Are you seriously humping me while I put on my socks?”

He frowned. “I’m not humping you. You’d know if I was humping you.”

“Fine. Are you seriously grinding on me while I put on my socks?”

“Maybe…”

She finished what she was doing, her socked feet planted on the floor, standing back up and turning in his arms.

There was an exasperated look on her face as she smiled. “You’re so fucking ridiculous.” Her arms went around his neck.

“They’re nice shorts,” he replied, making her laugh when he grabbed handfuls of her ass.

“Well, you’ll be excited to know I only brought shorts and leggings.”

He smirked. “I’m very excited about that.”

“Good. Have we been in here long enough that they’ll believe we showered and napped?”

Checking his watch, he answered, “We’ve been in here about an hour, so I think we’re in the clear.”

The look on her face shifted to something nervous.

“Do you think we made too much noise?”

For her comfort, he slid his hands up and down her sides.

He’d never lie to her, so he told her the truth. “They’re on the opposite side of the house, and between them and us is their master bathroom that’s on the other side of that wall—” He pointed at the wall next to the door to the guest room’s en suite. “—then their walk-in closet, their big fucking bedroom, and finally you’d end up in the kitchen. Unless they used their bathroom or came down the hall to check on the boys, which I doubt because they have the baby monitors, I don’t think they heard anything.”

“You’re sure?”

The smile on his face was reassuring. “Yes. I’m not lying, Cielito.”

She let out a breath, and her body seemed to relax. “Okay, fingers crossed they didn’t hear anything. Let’s head out there.”

“Bésame antes de irnos, por favor (Kiss me before we go, please),” he said, puckering his lips.

“So polite.” She leaned in to kiss him.

When they separated, he took her hand, leading her out to find his friends.

They found Steve in the actual living room they used at the back of the house, having to walk through the kitchen and dining room to get to it. There was a massive brown leather sofa in the middle of the room, Steve’s recliner next to it, a coffee table, and a decent-sized television in their entertainment center against the wall in front of the couch that had an abundance of VHS movies aimed towards children, and it looked like Connie had cleaned up after the boys, all of their toys put away in their toy box or back in their designated spots in the part of space designated for the kids.

Walking in, they were behind the sofa, seeing Steve was watching ESPN and the highlights of a basketball game from the previous night between the Chicago Bulls and Orlando Magic, a beer held in his hand.

His head turned toward them, his lips turning up in a shit-eating grin. “How’d y'all sleep on the bed?”

Javier’s eyes narrowed. “Like babies.”

Cielito moved to stand beside him in his friend’s view.

Steve sputtered into laughter, and Javier frowned at the sudden outburst. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” the other man finally said. “Matching shirts?” He looked over at his future wife and her V-neck that was the same lavender color as his, he matched out of habit—all the shirts he brought had counterparts to what she had in her luggage. It was their thing. His friend wiped at his eyes. “Who are you, and what have you done with my asshole of a best friend?”

“I don’t see what the big deal is about us matching,” he replied, crossing his arms. “So what if we like to look good together? Where’s Connie?”

“Doing laundry.” He nodded toward the door that led to the laundry room, and as if she were summoned, it opened, and she came in holding a large basket full of clothes against her hip with one arm.

“Oh, great!” she exclaimed. “You’re up!” She paused after shutting the door. “Be honest with me, how bad is the bed? If you can’t sleep on it, I’ll pull out the air mattress.”

Just the thought of sleeping on an air mattress made Javier’s body ache.

“It’s pretty squeaky,” Cielito answered. “But we’ll survive. It’s seriously okay.” She waved away the concern.

“If you’re sure.”

Sounds started coming from the baby monitors on the coffee table, Stevie and Nate both in their separate bedrooms calling for their mom.

“Oh,” Connie said. “Looks like the boys are up. I’ll go put the laundry in our bedroom and get them.”

“Don’t worry about it, Connie,” Javier told her. “I’ll get them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s not a problem.” His head turned to the woman next to him. “Do you want to come with me or stay out here?”

She smiled at him. “I’m sure you can use an extra set of hands—I��ll come with.”

He nodded with a matching look, taking her hand once more and guiding her back to the hallway where the bedrooms were located.

First, they stopped in Nate’s room, finding the tiny boy standing at the railing of his crib, crying for his mom.

“Oh, mi precioso (my precious),” Javier cooed, quickly making his way over and scooping the child up. He held him on his hip, bouncing a little while rubbing his back. “You’re okay, buddy. Shhh, you’re okay. We’ll go see your mom in just a minute.” Turning to look at Cielito, she had a soft expression on her face. “Baby?” She was just staring, and it made him grin. “Mi amor (My love)?”

She visibly jolted. “Sorry. Yes. Did you say something?”

“Was trying to get your attention. I need to change his diaper. Do you wanna go get Stevie?”

“I can get Stevie, yes,” she answered, nodding. “Be right back.” Immediately, she turned and left the room.

Nate had calmed down and wasn’t crying anymore, murmuring mom over and over again with his hand in his mouth.

“That was your tía (aunt),” he informed the little one as he walked him over to the changing table. “I know you can keep a secret,” he whispered, laying the child on the cushioned top. “I’m gonna propose to her tomorrow.” Grabbing a clean diaper and the wipes from the shelf underneath, he went about changing the toddler. “I figured out how I’m gonna do it last weekend,” he continued talking, his hands working. “So, she’s gonna be your tía, and hopefully soon you’ll have some primos (cousins).” He tossed the dirty diaper into the lidded bin he opened with the foot pedal, the kid now in a clean one as Javier buttoned back up his turquoise onesie with a sleeping long-eared, white, spotted dog on it.

“Who’s that?” Came his soon-to-be fiancée’s voice from the doorway. He turned his head to see her holding the other boy in her arm while she pointed at him with a smile.

“Tío!” Stevie shouted, grinning. “Tío and Nate!”

Javier picked up the younger of the two children and smiled.

“That’s right, buddy,” he said, turning toward them. “Who’s holding you?”

The three-year-old pressed his finger against Cielito’s chest. “Tía!”

“Good job!” He was close to them now, affectionately ruffling the kid’s dirty blonde hair with his hand and making him laugh. “You’re so smart.”

Stevie held out his arms to Javier, and he quickly took him in his free arm, both boys sitting comfortably on each of his hips.

“Oh, no,” his future wife breathed, staring at him with wide eyes.

Concern was etched on his brow. “What?”

“My ovaries feel like they’re gonna explode.”

“Is that a bad thing…?” He wasn’t sure.

“For my self-control? Yes. For you getting that thing you want really bad? No.”

“What thing do I want…?”

Her answer was to point at Nate, and his heartbeat stuttered, sucking in a breath.

This meant she really was contemplating them not waiting to have a baby, and it made hope swell in his chest. He didn’t want to be an asshole and deliberately wear down her resolve. Still, he also couldn’t control how he usually interacted with the Murphy kids, which apparently was getting to her—it made him happy that she was so affected by him being great with the children. He was beginning to think this trip was going to show her that he’d be a decent father.

He didn’t have a chance to respond, hearing from down the hall in the living room, Olivia shouting, “Is he here?!”

She must’ve just gotten home from school.

“Sissy’s home!” Stevie exclaimed.

“It sounds like she is,” Javier replied. “Let’s go see her.” He looked at Cielito. “Ready to meet the oldest?”

“Yep.”

Running footsteps could be heard as they made their way out of the room, his wif-girlfriend behind him on their journey toward the sound of voices. The young girl seemed to have run to where her father was in the living room because she came speeding back through the dining room that connected it to the front sitting area and finally found them.

“Tío!” Olivia had a big grin, missing a couple of baby teeth in the front, throwing her arms around his middle when she reached him, hugging him hard.

“Hola, mi sobrina (Hi, my niece). Lo siento, no tengo brazos para abrazarte en este momento (I’m sorry, I don’t have arms to hug you right now).”

Steve and Connie felt that Olivia should learn Spanish and had enrolled her in after-school classes for it since she first started going to school. Her dad’s Spanish was shit, and her mom’s wasn’t much better, so any time she needed help with homework she’d call Javier.

“Está bien (It’s okay). Estoy feliz que estás aquí (I’m happy you’re here).”

Connie was walking up, having come from the kitchen. Nate immediately reached toward her and chanted Mom.

“I’m here, baby,” she said, taking him from Javier and returning to where she’d been.

With a hand free, he patted Olivia’s back.

“Hi, Sissy!” Stevie greeted.

“Hi, Stevie,” she replied.

“¿Cómo te fue en la escuela (How was school)?” Javier asked the nine-year-old.

She let go of him to look up and meet his eyes.

“Bien (Good). Aprendí sobre (I learned about), ¿cómo se dice dinosaurs (how do you say dinosaurs)?”

“Los dinosaurios. ¿Qué te enseñaban sobre los dinosaurios (What did they teach you about dinosaurs)?”

“Oh, my teacher wasn’t teaching us about dinosaurs today,” she said, switching to English. “I don’t know what she was teaching.” The girl shrugged. “I was too busy reading this book I got in the library about dinosaurs.”

He smiled.

“Which dinosaur is your favorite?”

“Triceratops! They could take on T-Rexes. I want to look for dinosaur fossils when I’m older!”

“You want to be a paleontologist?”

She looked confused. “What’s a pale—a palien-tol-gist?”

“Paleontologist,” he said slower. “They’re scientists who study fossils.”

“Yes, I want to do that!” She nodded enthusiastically.

“Sissy!” Stevie loudly called, bouncing in Javier’s hold. “Sissy!”

“Yes, Stevie?”

“Tía’s gonna make cookies with me!”

Confusion was on her face again. “Tía?”

It made him realize he hadn’t introduced the young girl to his other half.

“Yes, your tía,” Javier told her and moved the toddler from one arm to the other so he could wrap the free one around Cielito’s waist. “Olivia, I want you to meet the woman I’ve told you about who I’m gonna marry.” He introduced her to Cielito.

“Oh! Cielito!” She looked over at the older woman. “Hi!” She waved.

Cielito was smiling. “Hi,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you, Olivia.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I wanna make cookies! What kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“My favorite!”

“Mine, too.”

“Cookies!” Stevie shouted, making Javier snort and his future wife giggle.

“Better head to the kitchen,” Javier said.

“Yeah,” Cielito responded. “Let’s all go make cookies. You too, Olivia.”

“Yes!” The girl did little jumps of excitement.

In the kitchen, they found the ingredients for the cookies waiting for them on the counter, Connie having already gotten them out along with measuring cups and spoons, a large bowl, and an electric hand mixer. Hands were washed, including Stevie’s, who had a little stool to stand on so he could help as well as a toddler could.

Cielito entranced the children as she walked them through step by step how to make the cookie dough, and Javier left the room for only a minute to run to the bedroom and grab his camera.

She had Stevie in front of her on the stool, holding the toddler’s little hand to help him scoop the flour and sugar into the bowl, and Olivia next to her. She showed the young girl how to crack the eggs, and when they got to adding the chocolate chips, they all took handfuls to snack on—and through it all, Javier took pictures, getting candids of them laughing and others where he asked them to look and smile at him, Stevie always grinning big and saying cheese.

Baking with a three-year-old was chaotic with how he wanted to touch and get into everything, but Cielito handled it like a champ and had the patience of a saint.

It all had him thinking about their future, easily picturing her doing this same thing with their own kids. It reminded him of how some of his favorite memories growing up were cooking with his mom, and it made his eyes burn that his children would get to have similar experiences.

What he has known, and was being proven right, was he’s found his perfect match and the person he was supposed to spend his life with.

From the moment he met her, there was something about her, some kind of pull—he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and as he got to know her, she engulfed him, and he fell hard. After their first date, on his drive home, he experienced something new: he imagined what his future would look like with her in it. A lifetime played out in his mind of them dating, getting engaged, married, buying a house, getting a dog, and he’d never felt so much hope before.

He didn’t think he had a chance in hell to make it a reality. He was positive he’d fuck it up before the third date.

By some miracle, he didn’t.

When he thought about those first few dates, the second was when he fell in love with her—that was when he knew she was it. By the third date, he knew he was going to marry her.

A thing about Javier was when he put his mind to something, he got it done, and he didn’t like to waste time—this evidently also included relationships. He fucked up when he said he’d propose on their anniversary because there was no way he was going to be able to wait that long—and he cracked quicker than an egg hitting a wall.

How could he not when she was so perfect?

Life was dull before her, empty; he always felt like something was missing. She was what was missing, filling that space inside him, turning everything vibrant and lively. There were an infinite number of ways their lives could’ve played out, and he knew in every single one the path he chose would always lead him back to her—they were meant to find each other.

His love for her burned brighter than the brightest star in the night sky, and she was a part of him now—he could feel her burrowed deep down in his bones to the point there was no him without her any longer. She was his first and the only love of his life; there was no one before, and there wouldn’t be anyone after because she was the one for him.

And when he held her, he held the entire world in his arms.

She was his world.

She was everything.

And in less than twenty-four hours, she would hopefully say yes when he asked a particular question while holding a ring.

Until then, he’d try to stay calm while watching her interact with his friend’s kids and ignore how his chest was filled with so much happiness he thought it might burst. These glimpses of what she’ll be like as a mother were driving him crazy, and it was taking everything in him not to haul her back to the bedroom and show her how much he loved it—they couldn’t, anyway, with the kids wanting to spend time with them and the damn bed. Fucking Steve.

He didn’t want to rile himself up, so he’d do his best to avoid thinking about her being the mother of his children or how earlier she said maybe to a baby.

Who was he kidding? It was all he could think about, and he was dying to get her alone.

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